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#Like Im coming as someone who likely has PTSD. I relate to N a LOT. and people acting like he cant heal...genuinely hurts me deeply
jaredthebc · 1 year
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Random late night thought but I noticed a lot of AU content regarding N makes it so he’s either still being abused, or just straight up killed before he gets the chance to heal
I get I can’t police people and how they write stuff but I won’t lie, its getting a bit overbearing and has me very uncomfortable to see how people want to just boil him down to angst with no payoff
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blusheher · 4 months
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Tw: Abuse- slurs- sh-
Anxiety is weird- bc I have a package outside the garage door and I feel physically sick when I go to grab the door knob and feel like Im going to puke- but a walk sounds pleasant rn- like wtf brain?! You are supposed to be on my side here. Maybe its a trauma response- back in February I moved in with my mom but before that I was living in an unsafe place (Abusive grandparents) where to feel safe I went for walks when I was stressed or needed to think- I can't sit down and think and part of that was made worse by my abusers bc i process words and data really slow and they'd scream at me and get extremely mad if I didn't respond to what they said or asked which led to a lot of being accused of lying and I feel a lot of people can relate to thisM I remember coming out as trans and I got a sports bra that covered me pretty well- it was abt 98°F outside and I needed a walk- I had the sports bra with an un buttoned flannel on and jeans and went for a walk- I got back and my grandpa called me a Whore and a Slut- I've even been called a faggot and tranny. I have a lot of ptsd and cptsd from living there- Im still getting used to feeling safe. My stepdad is a bit homo/transphobic but he'd never hurt me- Ive worn a sports bra outside in the garden while planting stuff with him and my mom and he doesn't say anything abt it- we've gone to the bar and I went in a dress and he said nothing- anyone in an abusive situation know it will get better and you are strong.
Another way abuse has effected me is my ex- they had really messed me up- accused me of shit that never happened and gaslit me until I believed it- it got so bad mixed with the stuff above I tried to take my life multiple times- said ex would switch back and forth saying how much they loved me and where happy and then turn around and say they where only with me because they feared me- which was odd bc we where never left alone together- they said their mom wouldn't let us cuddle or even kiss because their mom didn't like boys (Christian homo/transphobic mom)
When we broke up they started dating someone else a month later- funny enough it was a guy I didn't trust who they had dated in the past- I didn't trust him bc my ex never told me they dated in the past and was always talking to him and when we dated I later found out they would hang out and not tell me- my ex also wouldn't let me talk to him while we where dating- within a weeks of dating they where making out and he was even sleeping in the same bed with them, I was told this by my ex and their mom. I also didn't trust him bc I knew he was not very nice... I knew his last partner and had found her crying on the side of the road not wanting to go back home with him- he came over shirtless in jeans with no shoes or socks on- he grabbed her by the arm and wouldn't let her go- I dont think I need to explain why this was a bad situation and why he seemed unsafe to be with- I had told my ex that info who called me a lier.
My ex and him later broke up. While they where dating I had found out info that really fucked me up- they cheated on me- many times- not just with that guy but multiple people I had considered friends. My ex also claimed to be ace and well... Obviously if you are fucking your partners friends you aren't ace...
The way this has effected me is i can't enjoy certain things like certain music and media- like stranger things, cave tow,n stuff we enjoyed together. Another way it effected me is worrying Ill hurt my current partner even though Ik I wont and Ik I never hurt my ex- I sometimes need my husband to reassure me Im not bad, or that he really is happy with me- I feel bad when I need reassurance because I don't want him to feel bad- or like he made me feel bad- its never my husbands fault when I feel insecure or need reassurance-
My husband makes me feel safe and loved and Im glad I found him.
A Lot of people tht are close to meknow some of this but not all of this so this was all really hard for me to talk about, even my husband doesn't know all this- well ig he does now lol- about my ex cheating on me lol.
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just wanted to say that you are not pathetic or embarrassing in any way because of your situation. i’m so sorry to hear about what you’ve been through. it’s not a problem with you but the disgusting world we live in…i am the same age and have gone through a v similar situation. my ptsd has made it near impossible to hold down a job. i’m in massive debt bc of it. you are super talented and resourceful and such an interesting and unique individual, i rly truly believe you will find your way to stability. your blog alone is a huge comfort and source of inspiration to me and so many others. i just know something good will come your way. sending all the love and good energy in the mean time ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
thank you kind anon. i am very sorry u deal w similar struggles. i try rly hard to transmute the suffering into putting nice things back in2 the world so im rly glad it brings comfort to u❤️‍🩹
i feel like no one rly talks about how when ur 21 everyone is all like "dont worry, u have so much time, ur whole life is ahead of you, there is hope ^_^" but once u hit 30 its like dangg...u still havent figured that out?? well shit uhhh that sucks but good luck surviving n stuff 🤷‍♀️ like a lot of ppl have the subconscious expectation that u should be functioning when ur older, and their compassion wanes. most my peers have careers, degrees, salaries, cars, apartments, good credit..they take vacations, they invest in stocks, they go to the cafes, its like, a lifestyle i cant even imagine. its alienating as hell and just further discourages me from wantin to spend time w anyone or try and get another job. it is comforting to sometimes hear from ppl like you who r in the same boat.. like yeah we exist its not just me ToT the only other real frame of reference i had for growing up as someone who's like me was my friend who died last year and yeahhh its been sooo hard to relate to ppl since then. ilu anon thanku for reachin out to me i hope we can heal and find greater purpose in life❤️‍🩹together
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girlfromplut0 · 10 months
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a short letter
hi friends ! wanted 2 share a couple thoughts nd ideas with u if thats alright . ive been finding it really hard to connect with people lately , everyone seems so far away . idk if its dissociation from ptsd or just growing apart but it feels like there is a lot of distance between me n a lot of ppl in my life . n idk thats a bit strange . i feel like a stranger in a lot of places where i used 2 feel like an important piece . i suppose thats what happens when u grow , some things make less sense but eventually things will make sense again . most things dont make sense anymore honestly . even typing this i dont really feel real . dissociation has been really hard for me . after getting out of an abusive relationship its been hard to feel how i think things used to feel (and even on tumblr im kind of scared of saying those words out loud, im really afraid of that person even though i dont want to let that fear control me). idk ptsd is really scary . its not like anything ive faced before in my life . people tell me it gets easier and i believe them but a part of me is scared that things just keep making less and less sense . but in another way , every problem you face u have the wisdom and growth of every problem u have faced before at ur back . i used to have an eating disorder but cooking has become a super important part of my life , and i think im really good at it and its been rewarding to share that with my mom and people i love . im the highest weight ive ever been in my entire life and ive for the most part overcome my disorder and eating related trauma . so even if im sad and disconnected from people , at least i am giving my body the fuel it needs to continue living . i haven't spoken about really any of this in public and i guess this kind of secret tumblr acc feels safe for me to be a bit more candid and long form for once . i can't really use twitter in that way anymore , mainly for boundaries and mental health reasons . but yeah i guess a lot of things have been strange lately . idc if nobody rly gets my music anymore . even if it doesnt appear to be , if u see it as jus being like flexing or some shit whatever , it is like a deep expression of a lot of emotions im feeling . n i dont feel the need to explain it 2 anyone i prefer 2 let my art speak for itself . my art is the only place i feel like i can be free and honest and genuine nd create something that is a true expression of myself and that matters more 2 me than anything else . a lot of ppl i kno wld be lost w/o seeing a bunch of numbers . but when u making music for someone else u have already lost , u have chosen to surrender your space to what u are guessing someone else wants . no truly meaningful art can come from a place like that . sharing a little song i made , was produced by maiden who is an incredibly talented and kind soul nd i will link their sc under this u should listen 2 their songs ! im not sure if this song will ever be a part of something larger but since u read my long rambling thing i wanted 2 share one of my favorite songs ive made , in case its never on anything else . thank u for caring about my art and supporting me. often the love i feel from all of you overpowers the discord in my mind. and even if my art is made for myself, seeing that this expression of myself connects with so many people is deeply deeply meaningful to me. im excited and incredibly grateful for the opportunity to connect with as many of you as i can during tour next month. if you see me around before or after the show feel free to say hi, your support means so so much. i love you - meadow (pluto)
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luque-moreau · 3 years
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y'know i think its about time ive refurbished my psychonauts headcanons/theories
what??? me??? rewriting my psychonauts headcanons in a more comprehensible and informed way???
ye
alright, i think everyone knows what im talking about, by headcanons i mean headcanon as in singular, and as singular, i mean my "raz is somewhere on the spectrum of adhd".
so lets just get into it:
what is adhd actually?
adhd by definition stands for attention deficit hyperactive/hyperfocus disorder (yes, let me get into the details in just a sec). it is a nerodevelopmental disorder that is almost completely reliant on genetic factors, however conditions during pregnancy can sometimes contribute to certain aspects of how adhd manifests itself.
long story short, people with adhd have a smaller frontal lobe, and therefore less dopamine in general (even though yes, it is more complicated than that).
theres also a little bit of "chicken or the egg first" goin on here, certain behaviors or personality tendencies can also affect how adhd is presented in one individual to the next, however its still not clear if that is because it is an accommodating for a certain thought process or if someones experiences and personality shape their symptoms of adhd entirely. its a very blurry line, and the answer is different for everybody.
hyperactive type
hyperactive type is probably the closest to most stereotypical depictions of adhd, think the 5 year old whos parents brush off their child’s hyperactivity as something that will “go with age”. however, this isn’t only present in children, adults with adhd have to deal with a constant need for stimuli to make up for the lack of dopamine their current activity is providing them. this results in someone fidgeting frequently in repetitive or predictable motions, unable to hold attention to a specific task for long periods of time, or many other of the symptoms associated with adhd.(i sadly cannot provide more information in this area, i am not knowledgeable enough to...)
hyperfocus type
hyperfocus type is a tricky one, it can look like the complete opposite of adhd in theory. hyperfocus can look similar to special interests or hyperfixation, a great deal of time and knowledge dedicated to a very particular thing (although it is important to note that even though hyperfixations and special interests are incredibly similar, special interests is a term more typically used within autistic-circles, and isnt really the best word to use if you happen to be neurotypical). Think of maybe that kid who knows all the cool animal facts and won’t shut up about them. Its because certain trains of thought or activities might release more dopamine then others, so to get more of that dopamine, someone of hyperfocus type will be mentally unable to stop thinking or doing a very specific task or topic. this results in someone seemingly always spacing out, unable to change subjects or changing subjects too fast or with little to no correlation, or being completely unable to have enough motivation to do simple things.
personally i tend to fall under the category of hyperfocus myself rather than hyperactive, however the two are not mutually exclusive, its more common to find people with both types rather than just one. even myself, i might exhibit more tendencies to place me under the label of hyperfocus, but that doesn’t mean i don’t have any symptoms of the hyperactive type. its my personality that affects my mannerisms, which then makes certain aspects of my symptoms more or less apparent. Thats because im an INTP-T, i just tend to be more to myself and constantly in a state of thinking abstractly. I have trouble communicating and even sometimes recognizing my needs, and get to a point where im unable to do the simplest of things without feeling emotionally drained. Thats just my experience though, everybodys different. 
so what the fuck does this have to do with raz then?
well lets think about it, rather than have it just be me projecting myself onto a comfort character:
raz finds issue with connecting to kids his age
lets be honest. none of the campers really like raz that much. or at least some do the bare minimum to be try and be polite. it doesn’t seem like any of the other campers besides dogen, whos also socially outcasted, are really fond of raz. lili might like him, but that can definitely be interpreted as curiosity in someone new and different from the norm. It might not be that the kids despise him, but nobodys opinionated enough to care whether he is around or not.
social isolation is one of the most damning things i had to experience from an early age and still feel even today. there is a sense of feeling that you are different among your peers, whether that is a good thing or bad thing. it feels difficult to interact with other people you are not familiar with, and can really stunt you emotionally and socially. from a really early age, theres somethin in you that knows something is very different between the experiences of your peers compared to your own, and it can feel incredibly isolating.
raz and his borderline stupidity
time to get real again. raz is a fucking idiot. at least in the sense that sometimes his decisions seem incredibly spontaneous and not really thought through. he runs from home to attend a summer camp, not really thinking about the logistics of how he will get there, how the staff will react, how long its gonna take for his parent to find him, and so on. it doesn’t seem like he over or underestimates his abilities, he just goes for it without considering. that doesnt seem like the smartest thing to do, even though we know hes incredibly intelligent when it comes to larger, abstract situations. its the little details that he misses, small minuet things that seem unimportant that he overlooks, which can sometimes make things harder for him in the end.
i think its obvious that impulsivity is one symptom of adhd. however i cannot stress how difficult it is to think at supersonic speed and still feel incredibly stupid. i mean, thinking faster doesn’t inherently mean you will have better ideas, you can always be stupider faster, but being able to realize stupid mistakes or inconsistencies in your own thought process is annoying as hell. it feels like every time you try to recognize the issue, fix it, and move forward, you only end up not paying attention to another issue that gets bigger and more annoying than the first. Its always two steps forward, one step back, constantly making the same mistakes even though you try everything in your power to avoid them or grow as a person. The simplest of facts, ideas, or just things to remember end up being forgotten, and once youre reminded of them you remember them and feel like an idiot. however, arbitrary things and complex issues are much easier to digest and remember for me, things like history and the whole blame game charade of it all, biology and how every minuet thing has a greater impact on others and intertwines with every single factor of its environment, philosophy and theorizing why we think the way we do and what can be changed. but oh shit, im a dumbass i forgot to do my laundry. shit. god fuckin dammit.
empathy over sympathy
one of the basic themes of psychonauts is empathy. simple as that. raz goes around into other peoples brains, and tries to help them as much as he can, even if his efforts are not always successful in the way he intended. he never demonizes anyone to the point of unredeemability, and can empathize and understand other peoples perspectives. hes open to new ideas and
although some studies out there theorize that empathy is impaired due to adhd, from my perspective i feel like that is simply not true. if anything, i would say the sensitivity that comes with adhd (hypersensitivity) only enhances that empathy. i could definitely see social disconnection being one of the reasons it might appear that someone with adhd is less empathetic, however i would doubt that adhd would impair a persons empathy. adhd tends to also entail heightened emotions, this doesn’t necessarily mean a more outwardly emotional person, however it definitely shifts a persons perspective of their own emotions as well as others. the concept of hypersensitivity also completely contradicts the idea of people with adhd be less empathetic.
miscommunication and disconnect
sigh, the dad thing. yup. raz has that very iffy relationship with his dad at the beginning of the game which is eventually resolved. very abruptly, might i add. but thats not what this is about, thats a topic for another day. miscommunication seemed to be the root of the issue, however we only get razs side of the story. not to mention the severity of his claims and willingness to seemingly drop everything afterwards. kinda sus, ngl.
alright this ones a doosey. this, i feel, cements my theory pretty well. like i mentioned before, social disconnect and hypersensitivity are side effects of the symptoms of adhd.  this means people with adhd are highly more likely to either misinterpret someones words or actions if those in question are not completely transparent, its because they tend to overthink and interpenetrate responses with too much thinkin n such. the social disconnect makes a whole lot of it worse, it can just pile on top of already established feelings of inadequacy and isolation. and oversharing as a poor coping mechanism isnt an exclusively adhd related thing, it tends to be shared within similar neruodevelopmental disorders such as autism or even ptsd. i find it incredibly easy to disconnect myself from my own emotions at times and think critically at what i feel and how it affects me. which is a bad thing. if i dont acknowledge my emotions like they are my own for too long, everything falls apart. its not fun. but, that disconnect can make talking about certain more traumatic experiences or instances that had deep personal effects on my life and development as a person much easier to just share. and not always in an appropriate manner, comedic opportunity can be   v  e  r  y   enticing. this also explains why raz might have been able to drop everything about his dad after he apologized. he didn’t really, he probably still suffers just as much afterwards as he did before. but he probably wont realize that for awhile, since logically, the issue has been resolved. long story short, he has not had the time to cope, and to put that off he detaches himself from those feelings. w a c k
of course i have other reasons why i feel like raz could potentially have adhd, or at least be accurately represented in headcanon with adhd, some minor mentions being:
he uses his camp map as a journal to track his in-game progress, list of goals, and notes/snip-its of information. writing down information on some form of notepad or book is a common tool used by kids and even adults with adhd to help them keep track of minuet, individual tasks. its just using a planner, but with a bit more information. 
just from my personal perspective, the lengths raz goes to pursue his dream of being a psychonaut feel more like a special interest/hyper fixation sort of thing. he can jump between having genuine conversations with his fellow campers and just exploring the campground, to investing himself entirely in obtaining his goal, even when it seems almost impossible. thats some serious dedication to one very specific thing, y’know?
this one isnt as solid as the other but: m̶̖̰̯̫̍͝o̵̦͖̟͈̹̤̥̝͐̿̄̀̀̎̓ņ̶̛̭̠̐̊̆̍͝ķ̸̝͈̺̙̰̊e̶͉͚̼̅̔͗̂͐̍̕͝͝y̶̦̖̼͖̪͎̝̖̠̐̑͋̾̔̑́͐͘ ̵̢̲̘͎͉̔̀͒̄͌͊̀͌̀m̴̲̫̮̪̖̍̐͆̕͜͝ͅả̶͙͚͗n̶̗̳̩̙̘̼̦̦͇͝ ̷̡̨̡͔̗͕̘͍̥̑͒̎̐̃g̴͔̔̈̅̐̏́̌̔̈́́o̶̥̱̽̆̂͌̀͗ ̶̝̩͙͕͛́s̴̛͓̥̲̜͓͚̣̠̆̓̌͌p̶̜̹̯̦̫̯̣̎͐̽̉̾ḙ̴͇̬͑̈́̐̈́͘͠ͅȅ̶̡̗̞̩͔̫̪͈͑̓͗d̵̠͇͎̜͔͇͒̈́́̀̅̈́̒͘y̸̡̦̠̻̖̥̿ͅ. yeah, its the most generalizing reason but look, hes moving nonstop the entire game, climbing and running around the entire goddamn place wrecking havoc. a bit of imp can be found in most people with adhd if you look hard enough.
so thanks for reading this far i guess? im oversharing even right now with this, like an i d i o t but yknow what i dont want to read the great gatsby rn, so ive got nothin better to do. who knows, maybe the second game will give us more info to either support/discredit this theory? gotta wait for pn2 i guess
:^)
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Merry Band of Misfits
Fandom: Alex Rider/ Hawaii Five-0
Summary: After an incident, child services questions whether Steve is truly a good fit for Alex. Steve won’t stand for Alex being taken from him of course, and Danny is right there with him.
A/N: This started out as a little angst, a little comfort, and a whole lot of cheese, but somehow it turned into a little cheese, probably a lot of inaccuracy of how the system works, and a ton of angst sprinkled with comfort. What ya gonna do, tho, lol.
. . . .
They were still chasing their suspect through the crowded outdoor market when Steve’s phone vibrated incessantly in his pocket for the third time. His mind immediately jumped to Alex, wondering if he was okay, but he couldn’t exactly answer at the moment. Ready to be done with this chase and praying the call wasn’t anything too serious, he jumped up onto a low, narrow wall. Now moving faster than the man attempting to push his way through, it took less than a minute to catch up. Launching himself off the wall, Steve tackled the man to the ground.
“Oh, just give it up,” Steve grumbled at the still-struggling man underneath him as he wrenched the suspect’s arms around and zip-tied his wrists together. He pulled the man back up to his feet as the rest of his team finally caught up. “Book ‘im, Danno.”
After they had pushed their way back out of the market, Steve finally fished his phone out of his pocket.
3 Missed Calls - Kapi’olani Medical Center
He stopped dead in his tracks, heart in his throat, as he played back the voicemail they’d left for him. It didn’t give him much to go on, unfortunately, but since the woman had introduced herself as a child advocate with the hospital, that didn’t bode well. He didn’t hesitate to call her back.
The other end rang twice before the same woman who left the message, Alana Kelekolio, answered.
“Yeah, this is Commander McGarrett. You called about Alex? Is everything okay?”
. . .
As Steve stormed into the office, he didn’t fail to notice the two people in the room who were clearly not medical staff, but for the moment he ignored them, opting to head straight for Alex, who had stood up as he had entered.
“Hey, you all right, kiddo?” Steve asked, wrapping him in a hug.
“Shoulder hurts, but otherwise I’m fine.”
Steve snorted. “Yeah, that happens when you dislocate it. What happened?”
Alex shrugged his good shoulder. “Got my feet tangled up with Nathan’s fighting for the ball during practice and fell.”
“Yeah, you might need to spice that story up a bit before you tell it to anyone else.” That comment finally pulled a small smile out of the teen as Steve turned to address the other two people in the room. “So we’re good to go then?”
“Not quite, Commander.” A man Steve vaguely recognized as Alex’s social worker stood up and stepped forward. He’d been by the house a handful of times, but Steve honestly had a hard time remembering his name; he didn’t leave much of an impression. Robert something, maybe? Robert Kent? That sounded right. “If I could have a word with you alone?” he asked, gesturing towards the door.
Once they had stepped out and the door had clicked shut behind them, Robert continued. “This is negligence at best, Commander.”
“What do you mean?”
“You are Alex’s only emergency contact.”
“Yes, and here I am. So what?”
“The only reason I am here is because the hospital couldn’t get a hold of you.”
“I was literally in the middle of chasing a human trafficker through Chinatown. What was I supposed to do, huh? Ask him to wait while I answer my phone?”
“And that is exactly why Alex’s case is going to be reviewed.”
For the second time in an hour, Steve felt his heart jump into his throat. “What does that mean?”
“It means I think someone was a little quick to hand you Alex’s custody, so there is going to be some careful thought as to if this is really the best situation for Alex.”
. . .
“I could have punched him, Danny. Was it oversight on my part? Yes, I’ll admit that it was. Initially I wasn’t sure who else to put down since chances are if they can’t get me then they wouldn’t be able to get any of you guys either. So I put it off -- a little too long evidently -- but reviewing his case over that?”
Danny sat quietly, watching as Steve paced, waiting for him to finish.
“I mean, isn’t that a little extreme? Especially coming from a guy who talks to Alex for maybe ten minutes in a month. He doesn’t know anything.” Steve stopped with his back to Danny, a long sigh escaping. “He’s finally starting to settle a little and they’re about to take all of the progress he’s made away.”
“That does seem like a little much,” Danny sighed when it seemed like Steve was done. “Especially for something that’s a quick fix. Did he tell you how soon they’d make a decision?”
“End of the week.” Steve plopped down into one of the chairs opposite Danny’s desk, rubbing wearily at his temples.
Danny nodded. “Okay. I’m assuming you plan to fight this if they decide to pull him, right?”
“You have to ask?”
“If it comes to that, you know I’ll do whatever I can to help. I’ve got your back, babe.”
Some of the tension bled out of Steve’s shoulders at Danny’s words. “I know. I know you do. Thank you.”
. . .
Alex stopped at the end of the driveway, staring at Steve’s truck with a frown. They’d left at the same time that morning so Alex knew Steve had driven himself to work. If it was here, that meant Steve was home already -- very, very early.
Which likely meant something was wrong.
He parked his bike next to the garage and went inside to find Steve sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees, chin resting on his clasped hands, face pensive.
Steve dropped his hands, face softening slightly, when he noticed Alex. “Hey.”
“You’re home early, which is never a good thing. What’s wrong?”
Sighing deeply, Steve motioned to the spot next to him on the couch.
Alex dropped his bag onto the stairs and sat down.
“I already tipped you off, so I’ll just get right to the point. You -uh, you remember on Tuesday when you got hurt at practice?”
“Hard to forget. Go on.”
“The hospital called in child services when they couldn’t get me right away, and that made them...less than happy.”
Alex’s stomach dropped. When he spoke, the words didn’t feel like they were coming from his own mouth. “They’re taking me away, aren’t they?”
Steve sighed again. “They want to, but I’m not letting that happen without a fight. I told you from the start that I’m not gonna leave you on your own, and I meant it -- I still mean it. I have a hearing with a family court judge in a few weeks to decide the final verdict.” He wrapped an arm around Alex’s shoulders, and the teen easily melted into his side. “I’m not going to let them take you, Alex. Okay?”
“Okay. I trust you.”
As true as those words were, they still felt hollow on Alex’s tongue. He wanted to believe them but he knew it wasn’t as simply as that either. No matter how much faith he had in Steve, they could still take him away.
And there would be nothing either of them could do about it.
. . .
The hearing was not going well and Danny knew it. Robert Kent seemed bent on removing Alex from Steve’s custody and was bringing up every even slightly questionable thing Steve had ever done, whether it related to Alex’s care or not.
And Danny was done listening.
“And furthermore, it was clearly negligence on Commander McGarrett’s part in failing to list a second emergency contact.”
“Your Honor, I’m sorry to interrupt, but to be honest, none of this is in any way relevant.”
“Detective Williams, this is not your forum, and I do believe I am perfectly capable of determining what is relevant and what is not.”
“Yes, I am aware of that, and I apologize -- I really do -- but if I may, I have something I need to say.”
“I do believe you will already be giving a statement.”
“I will be, but this has nothing to do with what I’ve planned to say, your Honor.”
The judge was silent for a moment before saying. “I’ll allow it, but keep it brief, Detective.”
“Your Honor, with all due respect, if you allow Alex to be taken from Commander McGarrett’s custody based only on what you have heard so far, then you will be making a huge mistake.” He paused, taking a deep breath. Steve was either going to hug him or kill him for this later. “I’ve known Commander McGarrett for a long time now, and I will be the first to admit that I hated his guts back then. I thought he was completely irresponsible and reckless. But here’s the thing: he’s downright terrible at first impressions. So forget the bad first impression you’ve been given here so far today because what you are probably thinking is exactly what I thought, too. But the fact of the matter is, your Honor, that I trust him with my life and, moreover, with the lives of my own children.
“See, first impressions don’t tell you everything about a person. My first impression didn’t tell me that his guy was going to give me a place to belong in a place that I hated and a family in a place where I had no one.
“If the other members of Five-0 could be here right now, I know they’d say the same because Steve McGarrett likes to fix broken things. He has again and again taken the outcasts and the misfits and given them a place to call home. All of us at Five-0 are a family.
“And Alex is part of that family now, too.”
Danny paused; he’d been told to keep it short and he was sure he’d already talked longer than the judge wanted, but he hadn’t been stopped yet either.
“Right now, Mr Kent is trying to tell you from a collection of ‘first impressions’ why Commander McGarrett is unfit to be a parent, so allow me to tell you why Mr Kent is dead wrong.
“In the past eleven months, Alex has gone from withdrawn and emotionally volatile to outgoing and emotionally stable -- as stable as any teenager can be, anyway. In the first three months alone Alex was diagnosed with PTSD, properly medicated to help mitigate symptoms, and started in therapy -- all things that should have happened much sooner but were easily overlooked as he was written off as a ‘problem child’ and quickly passed around between homes like he didn’t matter -- and maybe to those people, he didn’t.
“But therein lies the fundamental differences between everyone else Alex has been placed with and Commander McGarrett: instead of calling Alex the problem, he addressed the problems Alex had, and -- maybe even more importantly -- he has never once even considered giving up on Alex.
“Commander McGarrett may not be the perfect parent, but he is a good one, and he does genuinely care about Alex’s well-being and wants the best for him. One oversight that is easily corrected -- because make no mistake, that’s the real reason why we’re here right now -- should not detract from all the good that has already happened -- and it has happened, your Honor; I’ve witnessed it myself. And that is how I can say with absolute confidence, your Honor, that if you allow this to happen, you will be making a huge mistake.”
Danny sat back down in the eerily quiet courtroom.
The judge cleared her throat. “Thank you, Detective Williams. Your words will be taken into consideration.”
. . .
Alex couldn’t concentrate, plain and simple. Steve had offered to let him stay home from school but Alex had declined, thinking it would be a good distraction. But it wasn’t, and he was seriously considering going to the office and signing himself out for the day. His anxiety was the worst it had been in months so he doubted they would make him stay, but would it really be any better if he went home? He doubted it. So at school he would stay for the long four hours that still remained.
Maybe.
He really wasn’t sold on the idea.
(But, again, being home alone probably wasn’t the best idea either, but those were his only two options.)
He forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths; having a panic attack in the middle of World History would not do.
Somehow he made it through the rest of the class and to lunch, skipping the line and heading straight to his usual table, folding his arms and resting his head on them. Maybe if he could close his eyes and focus on his breathing for a minute then his stomach would dislodge itself from his throat and go back to where it belonged.
“Alex?” The clunk of a tray against the table and the thud of a bad against the floor accompanied the voice.
“Hm?”
“Maybe you should go home, man.”
“‘M fine.”
“Yup. That’s very convincing.”
Alex took a breath and raised his head just enough to glare at his friend. “I’m fine, Koa.”
“Ya know, I actually have to agree with him for once,” Nathan said as he slid into the seat next Koa. “You really don’t look good, man.”
Letting his head thump back down, Alex muttered, “It’s just anxiety. It’s nothing.”
A pause, then, “Alex. Go home. I’m serious.”
Alex knew they were right, but… He pushed himself all the way up, meeting their concerned gazes. “I really don’t want to be alone so school is the better option right now.”
Koa shrugged. “Then call Commander McGarrett.”
“Can’t. He’s in court right now, and I don’t know when he’ll be out.”
As if on cue, his phone vibrated in his pocket with a text from Steve.
Steve McGarrett: Hearing’s over. They’ll call with the decision sometime this evening. Are you doing okay?
Alex sighed in relief; Steve always seemed to know when he was struggling and Alex didn’t feel guilty about admitting it if someone asked first as opposed to him just saying it.
Alex Rider: Honestly not really. Steve McGarrett: Omw
“He’s coming to get you, isn’t he.” It wasn’t a question.
Alex nodded. “Yeah. I’m just...gonna head to the office then. See you guys tomorrow.”
“No, you won’t.”
Alex glanced at Nathan as he stood up. “What?”
“No school? It’s Thanksgiving.”
Alex stared blankly for a moment. “Oh. Right. Forgot. Uhm, Monday -- I’ll see you Monday.” I hope.
By the time he got to the office, Steve was already there, still in his dress blues from the hearing, and it took Alex a minute to realize that Steve must have been headed this way to get him already even as he’d texted.
“So how’d it go?” Alex asked as he settled into the passenger seat of the truck.
Steve let out a heavy sigh. “Well, not as good as I’d been hoping, honestly, but not horribly either. We’ve still got a shot.” He paused, shifting into drive and pulling away from the curb. “So what would you like to do with this suddenly school-free afternoon?”
Alex shrugged, worrying his bottom lip. His anxiety was still through the roof so he honestly didn’t want to do much of anything.
“Did you eat?”
Busted. Once again, Steve always seemed to know. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he shook his head, stomach still rather queasy.
Expression full of understanding, Steve nodded once. “Okay. I want you to try when we get home though, all right?”
Alex took a deep breath. “No promises on success.”
“That’s okay. Just try.”
“Okay.”
The rest of the ride was relatively silent apart from Steve assuring him that he didn’t need to worry about school or homework, that they would just relax until they had news. 
Once home, Alex changed from jeans to sweats; no need to be anything less than completely comfortable all things considered. Alex sat down on his bed, listening as Steve went down to the kitchen to find something for them both to eat. Simultaneously exhausted and restless, he honestly didn’t know if he’d rather take a nap or run a marathon. His breathing hitched, and he tried to push everything he was feeling into nice, neat compartments. He knew he shouldn’t, that he should just get it over with and deal with it now, but if he could shove it away for only a few more hours, then he wouldn’t have to deal with it at all. (Because in a few hours they would get word that he was staying -- he would be -- because if he wasn’t, he didn’t know what he would do.)
Calloused hands gently pried his apart, and as Alex’s eyes slowly focused on where Steve knelt in front of him, he wondered when the man had even come in. How long had he been sitting here that Steve had had to come up to get him?
“Oh, kid.”
Those two words were all it took to open the floodgates. An ugly, hysterical sob tore out at the same time Steve pulled him into a hug.
Alex wasn’t sure how long they sat there before the knot in his chest eased and the sobs pettered off into hiccups, but he did know that he didn’t feel any better. Wasn’t that what was supposed to happen? But he didn’t, exhaustion settling even thicker in his bones, his stomach still uncomfortably lodged in his throat. If anything, he only felt worse.
“How are you feeling, buddy? Any better?”
“Not really.”
Steve hummed in thought before he said, “Why don’t you come lay down on the couch and watch a movie with me, and we can go from there. Okay?”
He didn’t want to move, but lying down definitely sounded nice. “‘Kay.”
Steve took one corner of the couch, and Alex curled up next to him, head on the man’s thigh. Some Disney movie played quietly on the TV, but Alex wasn’t really paying attention. Time seemed to drag on; it could have been hours or only minutes before Steve asked if he was feeling up to eating. Alex could only shake his head in response and, strangely enough, Steve didn’t push it.
Then finally -- finally -- Steve’s phone vibrated with an incoming call. Glancing at the ID displayed on the screen, Steve murmured, “This is them,” before picking up. “Steve McGarrett.”
Alex sat up. He had thought he’d feel something when the call came, but all he felt was numb.
After a moment, Steve said, “Thank you very much for calling.” As soon as he’d set his phone down, he turned to Alex and wrapped him in a hug. “Remind me to thank Danny by picking up his tab at Side Street next time. Looks like you’re stuck with me for a little bit longer, buddy.”
It took a moment longer than it should have for the meaning of those words to register, but when they did, Alex almost felt like crying all over again. Instead he tightened his grip and breathed for what felt like the first time in weeks. He couldn’t help but think that maybe Steve really had been telling him the truth all along, that maybe it would actually be true this time.
Maybe he really would never have to be alone again.
. . .
“So, a little birdy named Lou told me you might be needing someone as a second emergency contact for Alex,” Renee commented as she mixed up a salad at the counter. “If you haven’t figured someone else out already, you can always put me down, you know; I don’t mind.”
“Really?” Steve asked, glancing up from the pan he’d just pulled from the oven. “I hadn’t figured that out yet, so I’d really appreciate that actually.”
“Shoots, a sista beat me to it,” Kamekona said from the doorway. “I was gon’ offer, too.”
“As was I,” Max added as Steve turned the corner, carrying the turkey to the table. “Given my profession, I surmised it to be highly unlikely I would not be able to get away if called upon.”
“Great minds think alike,” Jerry piped up next. “I mean, I don’t exactly ever have anything I couldn’t step away from if you needed me, after all, and when I work with you guys I’m not really in the field for all the dangerous stuff, anyway.”
Danny laughed as he came out of the kitchen, carrying more dishes. “So, uh, you think child services will be happy now with that many numbers to choose from?”
Steve couldn’t help but chuckle. As Alex came up beside him, he threw an arm around the teen’s shoulders. “I’ve definitely got a lot to be thankful for his year, you know that? So, thank you, guys -- I mean that; it’s been quite a year and I couldn’t have done this without all of you.”
“You don’t need to thank us,” Chin replied with a smile. “We’re ohana; it’s what we do.”
“Yeah, if anything we should be thanking you,” Kono added. “None of us would be here right now without you.”
Steve looked around at the people he called family and realized that Danny had been only partially correct. He may have created a space for them all to belong, but he needed it just as much as everyone else did. They had rescued him just as much as he had rescued them.
A merry band of misfits -- maybe that was just how it was always meant to be.
. . . .
Tags: @diekatimitdemhutohnehut @just-add-butter
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Text
The anchor in their lives - Chapter five
A/N: Thanks for 250 followers guys xx
Also, this is sooooo long sorry about that, but I couldn’t help myself and I didn't know how to shorten it. It all just fit in this chapter and I didn't want to split them up because I couldn’t be bothered so here is a long ass chapter. And it changes pov a lot which might be annoying. 
Also cursive writing is a memory is that isn't clear? this is shit, im sorry.
Summary: When two super soldiers lives get turned upside down, they move into an apartment in Brooklyn, trying to deal with their past and figure out their futures. So what happens when the apartment next door gets a new resident, one who has the potential to change their lives in ways they could never imagine. The question is; Will they let her?
Pairings: Stucky x Original Character Annie (eventually)
Disclaimer:  This story may contain strong language, polyamorous relationships and eventually smut, mental health talks( anxiety, depression, PTSD and so on. If you’re not comfortable with any of those, you might not want to read this series.
Interested in reading more of my stories? Well, you can find them right here. 
Looking for the masterlist for this series? Well, look no further. It's right here. 
Warnings: I don't even know. Cute fluffy broken Bucky.
Word count: 5k (My hand slipped?)
TAGLIST IS OPEN, for this series and my permanent one. Currently, those are the only taglists I have. Contact me either by an ask, message or comment specifying which one you prefer x
Previously... 
Chapter five
BUCKY'S POV
“Don't leave me, Stevie. Not for her” Bucky whispers almost inaudible into his neck but Steve does hear him, and his heart does a flip and then sinks.
Steve pulls back a little and places his hand on his cheek, trying to get him to look at him and when their eyes meet Steve does something he never knew he would, something that takes him by surprise but feels natural at that moment.
He leans in and ever so softly presses his lips to Bucky’s, and even more unexpected Bucky kisses him back. His lips react to him, and the kiss deepens. Their warm mouths exploring each other for the first time. Bucky grips Steve’s t-shirt and pulls him into him, and he grabs his neck deepening the kiss further.
Steve pulls back ever so slightly to mumble “I’m yours if you want me” against his lips and Bucky growls, grabbing his neck and pulling him into him again slamming his lips to Steve’s in an angry kiss that is all teeth and tongue. Their tongues dance with each other until Bucky suddenly pulls back, pushing Steve away from him so hard that he stumbles.
“Get out” He snaps, and Steve’s head is spinning around at the sudden change.
“What?” He asks in confusion, and Bucky repeats it this time louder.
“GET OUT!” Steve’s heart breaks into a million pieces in his chest as he walks out of the room not looking at him. 
The memory of last night spins around his head like a broken record playing over and over again. It makes Bucky feel dizzy and nauseous. He was also baffled about what had possessed him to, first of all, let Steve hug him and even crazier kiss him. His best friend had kissed him, and all he wanted was to kiss him harder and never stop. He felt sick to his stomach, not because of the kiss but because of Steve's expression when Bucky shoved him back and told him to get out. He had never seen him so broken and sad, and Bucky wanted to hurt himself for being the reason for his pain.
God, why was he such a fucking mess? He didn't know what to do with himself.
He wanted to grab Steve and kiss him again, but he also wanted to run away and never see him again out of embarrassment and guilt. But he settled with neither one of them instead he pretended it never happened.
When he saw Steve in the kitchen like always, he felt the guilt burn inside, but he pushed it down greeting him like he always did to which Steve sighed and greeted him as usual.
STEVE'S POV
Bucky seemed unaffected by last night which stung a lot more than Steve would like to admit. He quietly walked out to sit on the balcony watching over the city seeming without a care in the world.
Today was Steve's first day off since he had gotten his promotion, and he had promised to spend it with Bucky who now seemed a lot more interested in being alone than to be in his company. Steve was about to walk out to him when he heard a knock on the door. Instead, he walked out to open.
Annie was standing there wearing a grey sweatshirt and pajama pants with little pineapples on them, she had an apologetic smile on her pretty face as she greets him.
"Hi, Steve. Um, I didn't wake you did I?" Steve smiles softly at her.
"No not at all, what's up, Annie?" She grimaces and plays with her fingers looking up at him those big brown eyes staring into his soul, and he feels the warmth creep back underneath his skin completely overshadowing last nights heartbreak and replacing it with butterflies.
"Well, um, I was kind of hoping that you knew how to fix my radiator. I asked the landlord, but he claimed that he's too busy and that I have to it myself, which I would if I knew how." Annie rants her cheeks getting all flushed and pink, which Steve finds utterly endearing.
"Uh, sure. I'm not the handiest of guys, but I can take a look." Annie's eyes light up, and Steve realizes that he is willing to do just about anything to see her like that. He has it bad for her which only confuses him more. Because what about last night? He had kissed Bucky, and he could try and pretend it hadn't happened as much as he wanted, but that didn't change the fact that it did happen which left Steve confused and hurt.
"Are you okay?" Annie asks pulling him back to reality, and he remembers that he was talking to her.
"Uh yeah, M' fine." Annie nods a little uncertain, but she doesn't push the matter further. Instead, leading him to her apartment.
Her apartment is impressive, the layout is the same as theirs, but the interior is so different. Instead of the various brown colors that filled theirs, she had a lovely mixture of bright and light colors. Her walls were covered with beautiful paintings or cut-outs of what looked to be old newspapers or books. Speaking of books, she had a whole bookcase that covered an entire wall filled with books. She had this charming old red chair with a vintage lamp above it, it looked very similar to one Steve had in his childhood home. The spot was perfect for reading and judging by the stack of books and a mug of coffee that was probably what she used it for.
She had a decent size tv but no DVDs he noticed, in front of a small brown couch that had a ton of pillows and blankets on it.
Her apartment was beautiful, a bit messy but that was to be expected from someone who had only just moved in about a week ago.
He followed her down a hall into what must be her bedroom.
In the middle of the room, a huge bed stood in front of a maroon colored wall. Annie walked over to the radiator that must be the problem picking up a box of tools and grinning wide at him.
"I have a toolbox that I don't know how to use. My dad insisted on buying me one. Claiming that any respected woman has one, so yeah now I do but no knowledge of how to use anything in it.” Annie explains laughing, and Steve smiles at her.
“Clever man.” Steve points out, and Annie looks a little sad when she replies. "Yeah, he was.” but then clears her throat and moves to sit on the bed. Steve walks over to the radiator and prays that he knows how to fix it.
Turns out he did know how to fix it and actually managed to do so rather quickly, but he had started talking to her about the forties, and she got so excited that Steve couldn't bring himself to tell her that he was done, so instead he pretended to work on it whilst answering all her questions. It was a nice distraction as well, and a very welcome one. He enjoyed talking to her and found himself relaxing and letting his guard down around her very quickly.
The nagging feeling of hurt crept back into his mind, and he found himself having a hard time focusing, Annie noticed of course.
"Are you sure you're okay? you seem a little sad." Her brown eyes stare into his with such kindness and warmth, also a little worry, that he feels overwhelmed for a moment. He never expected him to open up to her so easily, but the words seemed to stumble out of him before he could stop himself.
"I kissed Bucky last night" Her eyes widened in surprise, but quickly returned to their normal size and yet he still only found concern and kindness in them.
"And that's a bad thing?" she asks, not sure how to read him. Steve sighs and walks over to sit down next to her. She turns to face him, and he meets her eyes.
"I don't know. I don't even know why I did it." Annie frowns a little, lost in thought for a moment before asking.
"Did he respond badly?" Steve nodded before elaborating.
"Not at first, he kissed me back but then out of nowhere he shoved me away and told me to get out. And now he acts as if it never happened and I don't know what to do." He huffs and continues "I don't even know why I'm telling you this." Annie reaches out and grabs his hand in hers, her brown eyes looking up at him and he feels the butterflies again, which only confused him further. Steve looks away, and Annie squeezes his hand.
"It's okay Steve. I'm not judging you. You two have a lot of history. And I can't say that I'm surprised." Steve's eyes widen in shock, and she chuckles at him.
"Oh come one, you think I hadn't noticed? It's pretty obvious that you two are more than just friends."
Steve sighs "Honestly, I don't even know what we are. It's so messy and confusing. Sometimes he looks at me, and I think that maybe he wants to kiss me but then the next moment he is distant and cold. I don't know what to do with that."
"I'm sorry. I wish I had some good advice, but I'm afraid I'm pretty lousy when it comes to anything love related" Steve meets her eyes, and he smiles softly at her.
"It's fine. I don't know why I told you."
"I'm glad you did Steve. It means a lot to me that you did." She smiles at him, and he can't help but smile back a little.
"I should get back. Bucky can't be alone for too long." Annie looks down at her watch and curses at how many hours had passed without her noticing.  
“Shit I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have kept you here.”
“It’s fine, it's not your fault,” Steve reassures her and holds onto her hand until he clears his throat and she releases his hand.
He gets up and walks to the front door, and Annie follows him.
"Steve" He turns around to face her, and she walks over to him, grabbing both of his hands.
"This might be too forward, but I'm going to say it anyway. I have early classes which means that I'm usually done around 11 every day. That means that, if you and Bucky want it, I could come over and keep him company while you are at work. I spend that time doing my homework but I can do that anywhere, so I could easily do it over there instead. And who knows maybe get to know him." That took Steve by surprise.
"You would do that?"
Annie smiles and gives his hands a squeeze.
"Sure, I mean if it could help. I imagine it can't be easy knowing Bucky is alone all day if he hates it so much."
"It's not that he hates it really, it's more that it makes him panic and freak out that's the problem. I think he feels abandoned."
Annie nods and chews on the inside of her cheek.
"I can't imagine going through what he has, but I want to help if I can. I like you Steve, and I want to help if you will let me."
Steve's heart swells, and he feels whatever he feels about her grow stronger.
"That would be amazing Annie. Thank you. Is tomorrow too early?"
Annie lights up and shakes her head "Tomorrow is perfect."
"Great and uh thanks for listening," Steve tells her with sincerity lacing his words, and she grins at him.
"Anytime Steve. And thanks for fixing my radiator." He walks out of the door but she calls his name, and he turns to face her. She is standing in the doorway with a serious look on her face.
"Talk to him. Tell him how you feel Steve." And with that, she waves and closes the door.
Steve stands there dumbfounded for a few moments before gathering himself and walking home.
Next day:
“No way” Bucky growls, his shoulders tense.
“Come on Buck, this might be good for you, you know? Seeing other people, it might even be healthy for you.” Steve argues, but he keeps shaking his head.
“I'm not some kid that needs a babysitter Steve” He snaps at him, and Steve sighs, taking one step closer to him.
“I know Buck. That’s not what this is.”
“Oh yeah?” He challenges him taking a step back away from him.
Ouch, that stung a little.
“It’s not like that, Annie is being nice and offered to keep you company. She isn't here to babysit you. I know how much you hate being alone and this is a way to avoid that.”
Bucky shakes his head again like a stubborn kid making Steve sigh, he is tired of arguing and he has to leave for work.
“Well, too bad because she is coming over at 11:30 so you better behave.”
That gets Bucky’s attention, and he scowls at him.
“And I don't get a say in this?” Steve shakes his head.
“It kind of sounds like she is my babysitter then. Why are you doing this to me?” He complains sending him an angry and anxious look.
“Because it will be good for you to make some friends and Annie is very nice. You two will get along great Okay? Just please behave. And try not to scare her off” He says as he walks over to the door, Bucky still scowling pursing his lips.
“Buck” He looks over at him. “I’ll be back later okay, give her a chance and if it’s awful after a few days, I will drop it okay? Just please try.” Bucky takes a deep breath and nods.
BUCKY'S POV
At 11:36 he hears a careful knock on the door, and he stops in his tracks having paced back and forth all morning counting down the minutes until this very moment happened. The one that had made him feel even more anxious than he had in a long time.
He slowly approached the door with careful steps, unlocking it and opening it.
Annie stands on the other side a bright but kind of shy smile on her face.
“Hi, It’s Annie. Your neighbor” She says sounding nervous.
“I know” He responds but doesn't move.
“Can I come in?” She asks, and he opens the door fully letting her pass him.
He follows her taking her appearance in.
She was wearing flowy black floral pants, the pants leg wide and move with every step she took. She was wearing a black and shirt with a white collar tucked into the waistband above her belly. And black vans, her hair was pulled up into a ponytail. She was carrying a yellow backpack, which she placed on the couch and stood there for a moment before she turned to face him.
“So, what do you like to do?” She asks him smiling at him. Bucky sighs internally and walks past her out into the balcony, leaving her in the living room confused and a little hurt.
ANNIE’S POV
It's been two hours since she arrived at Steve’s and Bucky’s place in the hopes of getting to know the supersoldier but so far he had ignored her every attempt, and she ended up walking inside leaving him alone on the balcony. He did not seem interested in talking to her and refused to answer her questions.
So here she was, alone on the couch working on an assignment trying to convince herself that he would warm up to her eventually although he made it very clear that she wasn't really wanted. Steve had given her his number and texted her a little while ago asking how it was going, she had to tell him that he was refusing to talk to her and he just replied with “Give him time, he wants this. He is just shy.”
She somehow doubted he wanted this at all, it felt more like Steve had forced him into his to please her and she felt kind of guilty.
She heard movement behind her and saw Bucky standing in the kitchen looking out of place and if possible, even more, uncomfortable than she felt. He had an angry little pout on his face, he looked kind of adorable actually, as he stood there with pursed lips, eyebrows scrunched into a frown and his feet kicking the ground. He looked more like a little kid than a dangerous assassin who could kill her at any minute. He looked so vulnerable that her heart clenched and she wondered who could ever want to hurt him.
He looked around, and his gaze fell on the fridge. Was he hungry? Could he not cook for himself? Steve hadn’t mentioned anything about that. Was she supposed to cook for him? I mean, she would gladly if it could make him like her.
“Hey, are you hungry?” She asks him, and his eyes meet her swiftly, before going back to the floor, he nodded gingerly, and she had to will her excited smile back.
“Do you want me to make you a sandwich? I’m very good at it.” Annie offers and Bucky nods again, and she gets up from the couch walking over to him in the kitchen.
“Okay then, let's see what we have” She looks inside and Steve has left a little note that said.
Annie, thanks for doing this again.
I usually make a BLT sandwich for Bucky, but I thought it might be an excellent way to bond if I didn't. You can find all the ingredients here, but a tip is to ask him what he wants and make him explain how he wants it. That can get him to talk to you if he is refusing, which he probably is if I know him. You can take anything you please, don't be shy to make yourself at home. Mi casa es su casa as they say. There is also coffee in the cupboards, and pretty much anything else you could want. If something is missing tell me and I will buy it next time.
-  Steve
She smiled at the note and wondered if Bucky had seen it, she doubted it, she had a feeling if he had it wouldn’t be there for her to find. She puts it in her pocket and turns to him.
“So what would you like to eat?” She asks him smiling sweetly at him, he sits down on a chair and seems to think for a moment.
“BLT sandwich,” He says simply. She nods and walks over to the cupboard finding at least five different kinds of bread and tons of other things, Steve wasn't kidding about the" we have everything you could possibly want."
She takes out all the types of bread placing it on the counter in front of him, Bucky looks at her confused.
“Choose one,” She tells him, and he frowns. He gestures to the whitest type there was with his head. Sneaky.
But she is determined to get him to talk to her, so she isn't planning on making this easy on him.
She removes the other types and looks for a cutting board and a knife. She was hoping Bucky would help her find things, but he merely watches her, his blue eyes burning into her skin.
“Do you want it toasted?” and then internally curses herself for asking him something where he could nod in response. Which he did.
“How many slices do you want?”
“Four” She then cuts four slices for him and two for her, when he looks at her in wonderment.
"I’m hungry too” she explains, and he nods once in response.
She goes to grab the other ingredients and gets another idea.
Turning to face him “Do you want low fat or normal mayo?”
“Normal,” he says. Annie puts the toast in the toaster and goes to grab the regular mayo. She grabs some bacon and prepares to fry it on the pan.
After all, the toast is made, and the bacon is cooked, she turns back to him and reaches for the lettuce and tomatoes.
"How would you like the lettuce cut?" She asks him, Bucky sighs and looks at her like she is a complete moron.
"Some people like whole leaves others cut into pieces, I'm just trying to make it how you like it" She explains ad he sighs.
"It's not rocket science. Just put it together for christ sake" He snaps at her, and she frowns.
"Well, you're welcome to make it yourself." she bites back harsher than she meant it and he cringes practically curling in on himself, and she feels guilty.
"I can't," He mumbles and storms off into his room, slamming the door shut behind him. Annie sighs and leans her head on the countertop groaning loud.
"Great job Ann, just piss off the guy you're trying to get to know. Oh yeah, why don't you hit him as well? That will surely make him open up to you. Idiot." She mutters to herself as she continues making the sandwiches, hoping she can use them as a peace offering.
She very carefully knocks on his door, no response, she feels brave and opens it a little.
"Bucky? I uh brought your food and some water, can I come in?" Still no response. She sighs and pushes the door open further. He is sitting on the bed his back turned to her, shoulders slumped and head down. She places the plate and water bottle on a table and says.
"Bucky, I'm sorry for snapping at you. Please don't hate me. I just want to get to know you." He ignores her, and she takes that as a "leave me alone." So she walks out closing the door behind her.
After about an hour or so Bucky comes sneaking out of his room and stands in the kitchen again staring at her, she looks up and smiles at him. Hoping that he has forgiven her.
“You’re welcome to sit down if you want. We don't have to talk if you don't want to.” She tells him, and he shuffles over to the couch sitting in the opposite end still staring at her. She picks up her mug of coffee that she had made earlier and looks over at him.
“Do you want some? there is a fresh brew on the pot” She offers, and he shakes his head.
She thinks to herself for a moment trying to figure out what he could want. Then she remembers Steve mentioning that he likes to watch movies.
“Would you like to watch a movie?” His eyes light up a little, and he nods carefully. She smiles and turns on the tv looking for Netflix, but she can't find it.
“Do you guys not have Netflix?” Bucky looks at her like she had asked him whether he had eaten a puppy before. She grins and says “Let me teach you the world of streaming movies then.”
As she teaches him how to use their smart TV and signs in on her Netflix account, Bucky listens carefully and observes her. He seems very interested in it and even asks a few questions, he chooses a movie, and she continues working sometimes feeling his gaze on her but never looking up.
They spend the rest of the day like that until Steve comes home before she leaves Steve stops her to ask how it went.
“It went okay." She decided to leave out the yelling at him part for now.
 "Although, He didn't seem to want my company at all Steve. Did you make him?” She asks him, and he looks a little guilty.
“Yes, but in my defense, this will be good for him. He wasn't exactly into the idea but I know he will be, he just needs a little time to warm up. Please don't give up on him”
Annie chews on her bottom lip “I don't know Steve. If he doesn't want me there, then I feel like I'm intruding.”
Steve puts both hands on her shoulder looking into her eyes intently.
“Trust me you aren't. If Bucky really didn't want you there, he would have scared you off by now. Bucky is a challenge, but he will warm up to you. Give him time” She sighs and nods.
“Thank you. This will be good for him plus I have a feeling that you two will get along well.” Annie smiles and tells him about the smart TV to which he grins.
“Also, doesn't he cook at all? I mean I don't mind making him a sandwich and such, but he seemed almost scared of the idea of cooking.” Steve frowns and scratches his chin.
“Well, he used to. But he uh, has had too many nightmares about accidentally hurting me or others so now he refuses to hold any knives or anything dangerous.” Steve explains making Annie’s heart sink.
That man really is a broken one, she just hopes that she can help him in any way.
“That explains it. Crap, I might have snapped at him, god, now I feel bad."
"Don't. He is fine, don't worry about it. He deserves to be told to behave." Steve reassures her, and she chuckles.
"Yeah well, he was rude."
"I bet."  
A week later:
BUCKY’S POV
He watches the brown-haired girl sitting behind a laptop with a frown on her face as her fingers move around on the keyboard. She makes occasional little huffs and grunts, but otherwise, she is silent. He noticed that she had given up trying to get him to talk after a few days and he couldn’t figure out whether he was grateful or disappointed with that.
He also noticed that today she had forgotten to make herself her usual coffee, which was unlike her. He had spent the whole week she had come over to keep him company observing her carefully, and she always made coffee. He had watched her so closely that he knew exactly how she liked it and for some reason, he found himself in the kitchen trying to figure out how to use the coffee maker. Annie didn't seem to notice his presence being so caught up in her own little bubble.
The coffee brews and he finds the mug she usually uses, he sees the milk she likes and puts it all on the counter waiting for the coffee to be made.
He had done it exactly as he had seen her do it and hoped that it was correct.
A few minutes later and the brew is done. Bucky pours it into the cup filling it a little over halfway, he then grabs a spoon finds the sugar and puts two spoonfuls into the brew before stirring it for about 30 seconds. He then adds the low-fat milk filling it almost to the brim but leaving enough space for it not to spill when he carries it. He then takes a deep breath and makes his way over to the couch carrying the mug as if its the most precious object to him. Annie looks up at him and smiles softly at him as he approaches her, he feels the butterflies in his stomach but ignores it.
Bucky tries to hand her the mug but she doesn't take it, she simply stares at him in confusion. She looks from him to the cup a small frown on her face.
Bucky sighs and tries again, this time more insisting and she understands now. "Is that for me?" He nods, and her whole face lights up in the most endearing smile he has ever seen. She grabs the cup from him and takes a sip before humming in delight. "It tastes fantastic and exactly how I like it. Thank you Bucky, that's really sweet of you." She beams at him, and he feels proud.
"How did you know I like my coffee that way?" She asks him, and he shrugs, he didn't know how to answer that.
"Well thank you. Would you like to watch a movie? You can choose" She offers, and he nods before sitting down on the couch.
Hours passed and a few movies later.
Bucky had been so caught up in the film that he hadn't noticed that she had fallen asleep until he heard soft snores coming from her. He grabs a blanket and covers her sleeping form with it he found himself feeling kind of protective of her. He watches her for a little while until he decides to go to his room he didn't want to wake her.
Way later than what he had planned Steve finally arrives home, he walks in to find Annie asleep on the couch and Bucky nowhere to be seen. That explains why she hadn't replied to his texts telling her that he had to work overtime. He decided not to wake her since she looked so peaceful, so he walks into his room instead. Passing Bucky's door on the way and hearing his snores from the other side he walks into his room and goes to bed.
Waking up covered in sweat and his mind disoriented he jumps out of bed breathing heavily. He takes a deep breath and walks out into the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face. The man in the mirror staring back at him looks familiar but also like a stranger.
His eyes wild and wide, hair soaked in sweat and sticking to his face. His mind is racing, and he needs some fresh air.
He walks out into the living room and finds Annie still sleeping peacefully on the couch, he stops in his tracks and instead of stepping out into the balcony, he sits down on the couch.
He observes her, her curly locks spread in a crazy mess around her head. Eyes closed displaying her long eyelashes, her mouth is slightly open as soft little snores leave her lips.
Bucky finds himself relaxing as he looks at her his racing thoughts being overpowered with a sense of calm and his racing heart slowing down to a steady rhythm.
This was new; he never felt anything like that from just watching someone. It was as if everything about Annie soothed his whole being. Slowly but surely started to heal his broken mind and soothing his soul. He stayed like that all night until morning came and he turned on the TV knowing his favorite program was about to start.
ANNIE'S POV
She wakes up to the sound of people talking which confused her immensely. She opened her eyes and was met with a view she did not expect, she was still at Bucky's and Steve's place. She must have fallen asleep, and they hadn't woken her up for some reason. She looks to her left and sees Bucky sitting on the couch all wrapped in a blanket, his hair is a mess, and he looks very adorable and relaxed. She hasn't seen him like that before, and it warms her heart. He is watching something on TV, a cooking program. He seems completely engrossed in it and hasn't noticed her being awake just yet.
He huffs and frowns as he watches the people running around on the screen.
Suddenly he exclaims, rather loudly. "God Damn Jackie, just put the goddamn eggs inside, you jerk can't you see you're running out of time!" making Annie giggle at his expression. His head jerks to the side as he stares with wide eyes at her. She sits up, and he looks to be freaking out, his cheeks have turned pink, and he looks so bewildered and adorable that she can't help but giggle and smile at him.
He panics and is about to stand up when she reaches over and places her hand on his metal hand, he freezes and stares at her with even wider eyes.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Please don't leave." She begs him, and he seems to contemplate it for a moment before settling back down on the couch. Annie smiles and makes herself comfortable as they watch the cooking show side by side in silence.
Fin x 
Next chapter... 
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dont-doubt-dopple · 6 years
Text
How You Fell In Love With Me - Chapter 3
A/N: Hey, look, I’m not dead! And neither is this story. Just, the original idea got changed. Drastically. It’s just, I’m a lot less comfortable writing Brohm and I know people are a lot less comfortable reading it as well. Just know that if you came for Brohm, I’m not so sure how much Brohm is going to be in this story anymore. So I’ve changed the plan in my head and I am more excited to write this. Oh, I’m going to break some hearts this time around. The angst is rubbing of on me, IM SORRY. The discord with the angst Nights is rubbing off on me. Enjoy. I’m also introducing BOLD text into the equation. So, as not to get confused:
Normal text=Real World
Italic Text=Bryce’s Story world
Bold Text=Flashback sequence
WARNING: This chapter contains very homophobic sequences, including the use of the slur f****t. Tread with caution.
~•~
Chapter 3 - Faces to Names
“They always like this?” I asked, watching the scene of chaos and bloody murder in front of me. Otherwise know as Mario Kart.
"Yeah." Delirious assured me. "You get used to them." I looked around the living room at all the men screaming their heads off over a game. For people that were in a gang, they seemed like one huge family. They had inside jokes and traditions and the ability to be themselves. I was just some outsider looking in.
“Fuck off you sweaty nerd.” One if the guys exclaimed, his words laced with an Irish accent.
“Sorry.” Another one giggled in response. His words also had the slightest touch of an Irish accent, but not as much as the other guy.
“Moo hasn’t said anything in a while.” Mini commented, the only of the mess of bodies I actually knew. The guy who I assumed was Moo spoke off next.
“I’m winning.” He explained, before becoming silent once more. That being soon interrupted by a Control slamming to the ground.
“9. Fucking. Boomerangs.” The man who slammed the controlled down said calmly, although extremely enraged. “In 2nd to last.” At moment, a red shell came up from behind him and hit his already still character. This caused his calm anger to turn into pure rage. “WHO DID THAT!!! WHICH ONE OF YOU WAS IS YOU FUCKING FAGGOTS!!”
I tensed up as always. Though it only got him madder. I knew the routine by now, so it wasn’t a surprise. I could picture the red on his face, smell the alcohol on his breath, hear the malice laced in his words.
“I won’t let some queer stand our level.” He growls. I close my eyes, not wanting to watch the enjoyment of all of this spread across his face like the madman he was.
“Bryce.” Del calls out to me, putting his hand on my shoulder. I step away on impulse. She should know better than to do that. She knows I don’t want a repeat of last time. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” I echoed back. I could feel the tears beginning to well up in my eyes. I rushed out the last part a little as I bolted. “I just need some fresh air.”
“Yeah. Run!” He screamed as I dashed away, tears streaming down my face and fresh bruises down my back. “I don’t want to see this poor excuse of a son in my house again.”
“Bryce.” I stopped, hand on the handle. My mom was standing there on the stairs. I could tell even if I didn’t turn around. “Come back when he’s sober. Your dad will change his mind.”
“He’s my father.” I spat, still enraged at him. It wasn’t fair to be unleashing it at my mother but all the pent up anger I’ve been restraining was coming out now and my brain had little time to filter. “To call him my dad would be to say he loved me. Clearly he doesn’t.” I glanced back at the man who helped bring me into this world. He was sunken back into the couch, yelling at some sports game on the TV.
“Just ...” Her voice faltered, as if the words in her tongue just couldn’t come out. “He’s the only dad you’ll ever have. Give him another chance.”
“I’ve given him too many to count. And if this is how he uses all of them, then I’d rather have no dad at all.” I didn’t stay to hear her response. I simply pulled the door open and left, standing on the stoop as it slammed behind me. I breathed.
And then I broke.
I collapsed, letting all the waterworks built up inside me flow down my face. I was attempting to cover my face with my hands, failing miserably. “He’s not here. He’s not here.” I kept muttering to myself, in a voice barely in a whisper. I curled into a ball then, letting my head fall into my knees.
“Hey.” I looked up to see an Asian guy staring at me with a kind smile. Slick black hair tossed to the side and an equally slick red jacket. He had kneeled down so he was at least closer to my level. “Anxiety?”
“More like PTSD.” I admitted. “Someone just ... said a slur accidentally and I got triggered.”
“Can’t say I relate.” He replied, sitting down next to me. “I’m Evan, by the way. Most of the guys will call me Vanoss, though.”
“So wait, your the ...�� The Cat had finally got my tongue, but he seemed to know exactly what I was trying to say.
“Yeah. And that must make you the Bryce McQuaid Ohm has been telling me about. Incessantly.” Both of us laughed at this. I did wonder why Ohm would be preaching about me though. I haven’t really had a chance to talk to him that much. I didn’t voice this though. Maybe I’d get a one on one with Ohm later. “But the real question is, what was it that triggered you?”
“It was ...” I felt begin to choke, but I was at least able to push the first syllables out. “Fa ... Fa ...” Evan stopped me first though, holding his hand up to my face.
“I know what your trying to say. And that sounds like Tyler.” Jon said, sliding the rough draft back over to Mike. “Just email us a copy of the final thing later.”
“Sure thing.” Mike agreed, sliding the rough chapter into his bag. “Just promise me that you do not, under any circumstance, tell Bryce about this.”
“Really?”
“I’d have to agree with Mike on this.” Mark added. The group was in a local Starbucks, waiting for Bryce to exit the bathroom and Drac to get here. Mark had one of the single seats by Jon, while Mike sat on the loveseat. “Guy nearly had a full blown panic attack just giving me and Swag the first two chapters. Where is Drac, by the way?”
“He texted he was here like two minutes ago, but I don’t see him.” Mike pushed himself up using his arms, trying to see where his boyfriend was. He didn’t notice Jon rolling his eyes at Swag’s mention. “What’s taking Bryce so long in the bathroom, anyways?”
“No idea.” Jonathan said. “He’s been acting off since the day before yesterday. He was talking to Adam before, so I think it’s something he told him.”
“Oh god, that’s not good.” Mark commented, just as another guy hopped into the seat next to Mike.
“Sorry I’m late.” He apologized. “I had to work out some details with Ellie and John for a project. Who’s Adam?”
“The question I’m wondering is who are you?” Jonathan shot back. The guy, while subtlety slinging his arm across Mike, looked at Mark expectantly. The latter sighed.
“Jonathan, meet Swag Dracula. We usually call him Swag or Drac for short. Swag, Jon or H2O Delirious.” He introduced. Jonathan sat there, dumbfounded.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. H2O. Now back to my earlier question; who is this Adam guy?” Swag continued on. Jonathan was still in shock, the only movement indicating he was alive was the blinking of this eyes and the subtle rise and fall of his chest.
“You’re real.” He gasped softly, leaning back into his chair.
“Yeah he’s real.” Mike answered, planting a quick kiss on Swag’s cheek. “And Adam is basically the Cheryl Blossom of the campus. If you want a secret to stay a secret, you better pray to whatever deity you believe in that Adam doesn’t find out. If there’s trouble, there’s a 85% chance that Adam was the catalyst. He’s the one person that no matter what, you do not trust him.”
“Got it.” Swag said. “Now, are we getting drinks yet or ...”
“I’ll see what’s taking Bryce so long in the bathroom.” Mike volunteered, rising from his seat. He rolled his eyes as he passed Jonathan, who he saw mouth to Mark ‘He’s actually real?’ He headed to the back by the restrooms only to run into Bryce.
“Hey, You okay?” Mike asked upon seeing his friend. His blond hair was disheveled, and his eyes were red and puffy. He was quiet and when Mike cupped his cheek he could feel it was wet. “That’s a stupid question. Of course you’re not okay. What’s troubling you?”
“Nothing.” Bryce choked out, avoiding making eye contact with Mike.
“Bryce ...” Bryce grabbed Mike, pulling him into the restroom. “What ..?”
“Adam said ...” The blond paused, as if making sure nobody heard their conversation. “Adam said Ryan has a crush on Luke. He’s only ever see me as a friend.”
“Hey, this is Adam we’re talking about. He could be just stirring up trouble.”
“He may be a troublemaker, but he’s a reputable troublemaker. When is the last time Montoya was wrong?” This seemed to do the trick in shutting Mike up. “Exactly. Just ... don’t tell anyone. Okay?” Mike nodded, and was about to nod when Bryce grabbed his hand again. “And try not to intervene. Please?”
“I’ll do my best.” He replied, which seemed to satisfy Bryce enough. The two left the bathroom with uneasy thoughts and began to rejoin their friends. They were talking in hushed tones, like they didn’t want to risk anyone else hearing their secrets. Though a simple question lingered in Mike’s mind. Even with the coffee and knowledge of a nearly School wide bet (“We didn’t think Dracula was real. We were just wondering which one of you guys would crack first.”), it still lingered.
Was this accidental intervention really a good thing?
“Mike, sweetie, you okay?” Swag asked softly as Bryce, Jon, and Mark were laughing about something. Mike nodded, squeezing Drac’s arm in reassurance.
“I’ll tell you later.” He said.
“About Bryce?” Mike nodded. “Okay.” He leaned his head so it rested on Drac’s shoulder. Mike didn’t let go of Swag’s arm nor did either release their hands that were intertwined with each other.
“I love you.”
“I wouldn’t expect any less.”
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simping-4-venti · 6 years
Note
For the letter ask meme, burn all q tips.
B - A pairing–platonic, romantic or sexual–that you initially didn’t consider, but someone changed your mind.
...I unno? Black Sun? The rwby team made me consider it when they started pushing the shit out of it for whatever reason. im happy if Blake goes either way so long as it’s well developed.
U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites. Already talked bout Tiz and Taku so
Yukine : a precious well designed snowy boy who breaks my heart and mends it and is so good and has a dark past but I am also kinda scared that his past won’t be horrifying enough after Adachitoka’s hyped it up so much and I’ll come away disappointed.
Hau: a bright, bright boy who DESERVES TO WIN GOD FUKKING DAMMIT GIVE HIM A BREAK.
Adrien Agreste: relationship with villain check! A nice boy check! Secret superhero with cat puns check! Compelling character despite the shows age bracket check!
R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom? Noragami for this one.
HIYATOKINE BROTP the noragami trio is so fukkin PRECIOUS. FUK. YUKIS SO ADORABLE AND TSUN AND HIYO IS SO NICE AND YATO IS SO COOL AND THEY SUPPORT EACH OTHER AND two have dark pasts and angst is a big turn on for me y’know.
N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).
1.the fandom creators to arise from their mass graves of no news related murders.
2.content
3.angst.
A - Ships that you currently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone has OTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.
KaitoxMaki. I’d put Shuichi in but im still...not over Kaede.
L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves. (Characters you’re neutral about are fair game, as are characters you merely dislike. Characters that you absolutely loathe with the fire of ten thousand suns are exempt, as there is no point in giving yourself an aneurysm over a character that you hate.)
L is for Luffy who is better than Natsu, Meliodas, Asta and Ichigo. Haven’t watched Nart and never will but I can assume he may possibly be better than Naruto. Yay. You are the formula weekly fighting shonen king. Except for Deku or maaaaaaaybe Hinata. Scrub.
...I feel it got a little less genuinely nice at the end there.
Q - A fandom you’ve abandoned and why.
None, I am a loyal person, but I am also only in like ....three and only contribute to one so I guess all of them.
(I’d draw more noragami and fe if people requested it! I’d probs draw other stuff too!)
T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending? 
there is an extra layer between the end layer and the celestial realm and Altair and co are from there, not the celestial realm. ITS THE ONLY THING THAT MAKES SENSE.
Mags has mild PTSD. 
I - Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why?
None.
P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).
Bravely BNHA au. Agnes’s emitter quirk lets her hymns create wind. Edea has a hardening quirk like Kirishima and goes to a fancy hero school, Ringabel’s emitter quirk is thoughtography, and he can use his diary to record his memories (and his foes memories and techniques) nigh instantaneously as photographs (he works for a magazine and is famous for voyeurism) if he concentrates real hard. Tiz has animal voice like Koji and his brother can levitate.
Mag’s quirk allows her to stop time for short periods, but it’s only in her concentration, and she has to dodge while it’s at full speed. Yew’s quirk allows him to shapeshift into birds in the falco genus, but since his quirk seems to function on evolutionary understanding it’s theorised he could grow capable of transforming into certain Falconids as well.
S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)
an example? Like? A content? umm. Prep for badness. i guess.
Yew quickly learned that there were things you could and couldn’t do around Magnolia. 
He learned them, as any scientist did, through both trial and error and close observation. He learned them, but each and every time he did, he wished more and more that there was some other way to find out.
Alas, Magnolia herself didn’t seem to want to admit that she had such conditions, or that there was even anything wrong with her. She’d put on her bright smiles like she did every time it came up and hold to it until night time, where it would fall away before the shadow of untold nightmares.
Those nightmares...they could be set off by the strangest things. From something as small as leaving without a weapon, to waking next to an open flame or the sound of wedding bells. They’d send her sprawling, eyes glassy and unfocused, looking about for people who weren’t there. Who’d never be there again. 
Of course, she always played it off after. “It’s no trouble!” she’d say, “what soldier of Fort Lune would fear such harmless things.”
He never liked it when she asked that, as he was sure the answer she was thinking of was ‘a bothersome one, a weak one, one who held the party back.’
Such thoughts were unacceptable, for Yew was a scientist, and scientists couldn’t abide by such incomplete answers, especially not when the educated answer was “a human one.”
But a scientist also knew that there was no way to force such things. Magnolia was brave, and strong, and he had faith she would ask for help when the time was right. That she wouldn’t allow her grief to get in the way of her justice.
Until that time, they’d stay near her. Edea would be by her side when she woke, holding her until she returned from that faraway world none of them could imagine, Tiz would be by her side in battle, an inkling of understanding in his eyes -and he would be there for her in the quiet moments, where she took those flowers and raised them to the sky.
They wouldn’t let her be lonely again as long as they were alive.
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egyptroyal · 4 years
Text
BOLD all that apply.
Tumblr media
Rose ‘RMT’ Tyler
Eyes: Blue | Green | Brown | Hazel | Grey | Other
Hair: Blonde | Brown | Black | Red | Ginger | Grey/White | Multi-color | Other
Body Type: Skinny | Slender | Slim | Built | Curvy | Athletic | Muscular
Skin: Pale | Light | Fair | Freckled | Tan | Olive | Medium* | Medium-Dark* | Dark* | Discolored
Gender: Male | Female | Trans | Cis | No Gender* | Other
Sexuality: Heterosexual | Homosexual | Bisexual | Pansexual | Asexual | Demisexual | Other
Romantic Orientation: Homoromantic | Heteroromantic | Biromantic | Panromantic | Aromantic | Demiromantic | Unsure | Doesn’t like labels
Species: Human | Undead | Shapeshifter | Demon | Angel | Witch | Ghost | Incubus/Succubus | Werewolf** | Alien**| Mutant | Android | Vampire | Other (Necromancer)**
Education: High School* | College | University* | Master’s Degree* | PhD | Other
I’ve been: In Love | Hurt | Ill | Mentally Abused** | Bullied* | Physically Tortured* | Brainwashed | Shot*
Positive Traits: Affectionate | Adventurous | Athletic | Brave | Careful | Charming | Confident | Creative | Determined | Fearless | Generous | Honest | Humorous* | Intelligent | Loyal | Modest | Patient | Selfless | Polite | Down-to-earth | Diligent | Romantic | Moral | Fun-loving | Charismatic | Calm
Negative Traits: Aggressive | Bossy | Cynical | Envious | Shy | Fearful | Greedy | Gullible | Jealous | Impatient | Impulsive | Cocky | Reckless | Insecure | Irresponsible | Mistrustful* | Paranoid | Possessive* | Sarcastic | Self-conscious | Selfish | Swears | Unstable | Clumsy | Rebellious | Emotional | Vengeful | Anxious | Self-sabotaging | Moody | Peevish | Angry | Pessimistic | Slacker | Thin-skinned | Overly dramatic | Argumentative
Living Situation: Lives alone | Lives with parents/guardian | Lives with significant other* | Lives with a friend | Drifter* | Homeless | Other
Parents/Guardian: Mom(s) | Dad(s) | Adoptive | Foster | Grandparents | Family friend
Sibling(s): Sister(s) | Brother(s) | None | Other
Relationship: Single | Crushing | Dating* | Engaged* | Married* | Separated | It’s complicated* | Verse dependent
I have a(n): Developmental Disorder | Learning Disorder | Personality Disorder | Mental Disorder | Anxiety Disorder | Sleep Disorder | Eating Disorder | Behavioral Disorder | Substance-related Disorder | PTSD (PTSS)* | Mental Disability | Physical Disability | Other
Things I’ve done before: Had alcohol | Smoked | Done drugs | Stolen | Self harmed | Starved myself | Had sex | Had a threesome | Gotten into a fistfight | Gone to the infirmary | Gone to jail | Used a fake ID | Played hooky | Gone to a rave | Killed someone* | Had someone try to kill them
Tagged by:  @intergalacticxmisfits​ Tagging: anyone else who sees this and would like to do it!
           [under the cut isn’t part of this meme, i’m just explaining further on starred words]
skin * - i’m not sure because in some films, she’s medium and others, she’s dark skinned and another is medium-dark. this also goes with television shows as well. it all comes down to the coloring of the show/film and how old it is.
gender * - bad wolf doesn’t even have a body, it’s just a genderless space entity....so, i took that into account. 
species ** - werewolf because, like, does the bad wolf entity count as a wolf?? like she turned into the bad wolf so like? that should count? because of the bad wolf entity, in some respect, it’s an alien as well as a mutant because it requires a host and that host just so happen to be rose... plus, it counts as a necromancer because otherwise javic ‘capt. jack harkness’ thane would have been hella dead... so there you go.
education * - canonicallyjust for this version of rose, she got her university/master’s degree in the alternate pete’s world on her earth... got get that degree.
i’ve been * - bullied by cassandra counts right? also jimmy stone? yeah. mentally abused also relates back to the bad wolf entity...because rose could have died....so, that counts. as far as being shot goes, i count the anne ‘anne robo-son’ droid as someone that shot her. the physically tortured bit was from this doctor who ninth doctor comic where rose woke up and was pregnant with some random alien’s baby without her consent and she quite realistically freak the fuck out....so that counts...right?
positive traits * - [to cassandra about the new skin, laughing] so you’re talking of your a- [cassandra interrupts] Ask not! was humorous af.
negative traits * - see School Reunion with Sarah Jane and Journey’s End when first seeing Martha. it’s small and quick but it’s there.
living situation * - if living with her doctor counts as a significant other, than yeah. otherwise, she’s a drifter.
relationship status * - with her doctor....it’s complicated but, eventually, they do that. otherwise with everyone else, it’s verse dependent.
i have a(n) * - traveling with the doctor and all that shit that she had witnessed both in comics and television and audios, it would be a shock if she didn’t. i would say its secondhand (because it’s the doctor’s trama that they’re reliving but also holy shit it’s now your trauma as well like !!!) but like, it also isn’t. that’s a lot of war to just get over. a lot of time to really think back on it and realize that you could have died at any fucking moment. and like jackie says in fear ‘ Im gonna get killed by a christmas tree!. like that’s funny, yes, but also HOLY SHIT THIS IS TRAUMATISING AF. like i would never buy a christmas tree ever again. you can’t forget that. something like that really stick with you. also now everytime i see the words ptsd, i keep hearing luke alvez telling a discheveled, ready-to-fight spencer that spencer has ptss like it’s just ingrained now. just that scene....
Things I’ve done before * - killing daleks counts. everything else is past events with rose before the doctor and after.
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seventven · 7 years
Text
Victim Behind the Gun
summary: reader and bucky escape from the states and find a small apartment in bucharest where they attempt to start their lives over. reader finds a job fixing electronics, bucky falls in love with ikea, reader is the big spoon and bucky finds comfort in painting. everything goes well until steve rogers shows up at their apartment and pulls them back into the world of politics, spies and super-soldiers. within just a few hours, it becomes evident that rogers blames reader for everything that has happened involving her father two years prior.
READ PART I HERE
word count: 22k+ (no im not fucking kidding i’ve been writing this one shot since july it took me 6 months to finish it im drained)
warnings: ca:cw spoilers (a lot of them but im being pretty vague so you pretty much have to know the plot of the film to understand this??), light swearing, violence, smut, slight inaccuracy in regards to the plot of the film, ptsd, my knowledge of hacking is basically nonexistent so don’t shit on me
a/n: this should’ve been turned into like a multiple chapters fic but i’m not about that life so enjoy spending two hours reading a single one shot.
let me know what you think here
inspiration: one / two / three
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They left Pierce’s home before midnight. It was a starry evening and as Y/N and Bucky situated themselves in the taxi, the younger girl couldn’t help the feeling of heaviness in her chest. She stared with sad eyes as the house disappeared from her peripheral vision, the other buildings and trees on the side of the road turning into a blur of green, brown and red.
Next to her, Bucky noticed the way she bit into her lower lip and stared out the window for what felt like hours. He wanted to comfort her, the way she always comforted him even on his worst days. But a part of him was hesitant; after seventy years of nothingness it was difficult for him to get back to normal and understand regular human things. Over time he’d learn how to deal with emotions and know what to do when something like this happened, but until that time he would be left puzzled.
Bucky tried to remember what the old him would do in a situation like this. Faded flashes of memories appeared in his head if he thought hard enough; encouraging Steve to approach different girls and telling him it was far from difficult to make a woman swoon. It seemed that the old Bucky always knew what to say, what to do, and how to act in a way that could lift another person’s spirits.
But the new Bucky? The Bucky who after decades of torture, brainwashing and manipulation felt lucky he remembered even a snippet of his past? This Bucky… well, let’s just say comforting others wasn’t a talent of his nowadays. Or at least he didn’t think it was.
Y/N thought something different. When Bucky reached across the back of the cab and took her hand in his larger one, a pleasant warmth spread through her entirety, originating from the spot where their skin met. He squeezed her hand when she looked down at their laced fingers, and Y/N exhaled deeply before sliding across the bench and laying her head on his shoulder.
After what happened in her old bedroom earlier that day she experienced a new wave of feelings towards the soldier. Now, wanting to be close to him wasn’t only caused by her need to be there for him. What happened seemed to connect not only their bodies but also their minds, and for the first time in her life Y/N yearned for the feeling of knowing someone needed her as much as she needed them.
The taxi pulled up in front of a small hotel almost an hour later. Y/N knew that in order to avoid getting caught it would be better to leave town. She still had a few things to do before leaving the country and staying in her old house didn’t seem like the best idea.
They got a room on the second floor and while she talked to the lady behind the front desk, Bucky seemed to be looking around him, hands in his pockets, silently taking in his surroundings. It was pleasant; being able to notice how the world around him had changed over the years without his mind being preoccupied with thoughts of missions, killings and carnage. Steve managed to crack his outer shell on the Helicarrier earlier that day and he was grateful.
The cold water of the river helped, too. It all felt like waking out of a long, long nightmare and trying to figure out what the hell just happened.
The soldier didn’t sleep that night. He stayed awake with his back against the headboard and watched as Y/N’s chest moved up and down slowly with each inhale and exhale of breath.
A feeling of anxiety overwhelmed him. He feared that someone was going to knock down the door to their room any minute, point guns at them and take them back to the Hydra base.
He knew he was being paranoid; they were miles away from the facility and no one knew where they were staying. Hell, they didn’t even know they were together at all.
Bucky tried to sleep. He closed his eyes and wished for a state of unconsciousness but it just wouldn’t come. He turned and tossed and wished the girl sleeping on the second bed on the other side of the room would open her eyes and climb under the covers with him. But he just didn’t have the heart to wake her.
Eventually he did fall asleep, and stayed that way for roughly an hour before the sound of shuffling and bags opening woke him up.
He rubbed his eyes and blinked several times to clear his vision before he finally saw Y/N bent over her suitcase, her hands digging through the contents to find some clothes for the day. She had a white towel wrapped around her, meaning she had already showered and Bucky noticed that her toenails were painted a bright minty shade.
He sat up on the mattress, the fresh sheets falling down to bunch around his waist. Y/N heard the small movement and turned around, sending the assassin a tiny smile.
“Good morning,” she greeted him happily. For someone who had just fled their home and participated in the killing of their own father, Y/N surely did know how to act like nothing bothered her.
“Hi.” Bucky ran his metal hand through his hair, the segments of his thick fingers getting stuck in the brown waves. “Ouch.”
Y/N furrowed her brows and tightened her towel around her body before padding across the sandy carpet. She sat down next to Bucky and reached her hand up to where his hand was stuck in his hair.
“Let me take a look,” she giggled. Bucky seemed to relax, allowing the smaller girl to try and detach his hand from his head. It took some tugging and a few flinches from the soldier’s side but soon he was able to freely remove his hand.
“Hydra didn’t really care for cutting hair,” he told her when she was finished.
Y/N remained situated on the mattress, staring at him with her head tilted to the side and the edges of her lips curved upwards.
“I’m going to have to do something about it when I get the chance.”
When she didn’t respond, Bucky glanced at her questioningly with his eyes slightly narrowed. They held eye contact for several seconds before she finally spoke up.
“I like hearing you talk. You have a lovely speaking voice.” James looked down upon hearing her revelation, his fingers curling around the edges of the bed sheets. Y/N didn’t know if her statement related to a sensitive topic so she placed her index finger under his chin and lifted his head so she could look at him. Her insides tingled when she noticed the redness in his cheeks and she smiled softly before leaning over and placing a long kiss to his scruffy cheek.
She got dressed in the small bathroom connected to their room and came out with her hair dried and her shoes on her feet. Bucky was still in bed, smiling to himself with the thought of finally finding someone he could trust after all these God damn years.
“I have to meet up with one of my dad’s old friends,” Y/N stated as she bent over to tie her shoelaces. Bucky furrowed his brows, trying to understand the reasoning.
“He forges documents. He had a deal with my father that if something ever happened I’d be able to get a new identity.”
She looked up at him then, and smiled sadly. “He’s the guy who always sorted out your documents when they were ordering you to travel from country to country. He’s going to help us leave the States without getting caught.”
Bucky parted his lips and looked at her with concern.
“Isn’t he Hydra, though? Won’t he try to-“
“He’s not Hydra. He’s a college friend of Pierce’s. He doesn’t know my father is dead since he was the only person in the facility to know about his existence.”
“That’s smart,” stated Bucky. “That way he didn’t get caught.”
Y/N hummed under her breath and pushed herself up from the floor. She walked over to where Bucky sat and tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear.
“I’ll be back before three. There’s money in my bedside table if you want to go out and explore but please, be careful, okay?”
Bucky nodded, lifting his chin up and silently asking for another kiss on his cheek. Y/N obliged, peppering several kisses on the side of his face before grabbing her bag and heading for the door.
Bucky tried to fall back asleep, seeing as it was only eight in the morning. However, within minutes of trying to do so, he decided to give up and climb out of bed.
He got dressed and brushed his teeth before taking the money Y/N told him about and heading for the door. Bucky promised his roommate he would be careful but he couldn’t help the feeling of curiosity that made his stomach twist into knots.
Just before his last mission he heard someone mention a Captain America exhibition at a place called the Smithsonian. Bucky knew that going to it probably wasn’t the best idea and as he exited the hotel building with his room key tucked into the pocket of his thin jacket, he attempted to pick out the cons and pros of checking it out. Lucky for him, the pros seemed to outweigh the cons and soon he was taking the Subway to where the exhibition was held.
He paid the fee at the door and entered the museum with his head held low, his dark cap hiding his features as he sauntered around the spacious room.
It was weird; seeing pictures and watching recordings of things he had experienced but didn’t fully remember. He saw pictures of Steve who didn’t even look like Steve anymore; at least not the Steve he punched and kicked and shot on the Helicarrier the previous day. The Steve on these pictures was smaller, more naïve and innocent.
The exhibition described Steve’s journey from his pre-serum days all the way to present day. Bucky couldn’t help the smile from forming across his lips when he stumbled upon a photograph of the Steve he remembered looking out for.
Even though he didn’t remember much from before he left Brooklyn to fight in World War II, there was still a part of him that longed for those days. He missed the freedom, and laughter, and scrawny Steve getting into alley fights and Bucky having to step in.
He kept walking, scanning each and every display and reading everything they had to offer. And then he saw it; his own eyes looking back at him from across the room.
Bucky shuffled closer until he was standing face to face with a giant display about no one else but himself.
In the photograph, his hair was short and he was clean shaven, his expression neutral but focused. He was just about to begin reading the display when a male voice sounded from a speaker above his head.
“Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers were inseparable on both school yard and battlefield.”
The soldier glanced beneath the display where a small screen was showing black and white footage of himself and Steve, planning missions and laughing. A lump formed at the back of Bucky’s throat but he swallowed it down; he didn’t feel like he wanted to cry because really, there was only so many things he remembered about his past and honestly, after what happened to him throughout the years, he lost the need to be sentimental. He just felt sorry that he couldn’t go back in time to before all this shit happened.  
“Barnes is the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country.”
Bucky pursed his lips but remained stoic, hands in his pockets as he stared at the photograph of the old him. It was unsettling, to say the least; hearing someone speak of him as if he were dead. But maybe he was. Maybe the man he used to be died along with his memories and humanity when he was strapped to that chair. Maybe, just maybe – and he hoped he would be proven wrong – there just wasn’t a chance of getting the old, chirpy Bucky back.
“Excuse me?”
The soldier’s head turned slowly and he frowned when he didn’t see anyone. That is, until he lowered his gaze and noticed a girl who couldn’t be any older than ten looking up at him with her big doe eyes. She had rosy cheeks and light hair, tied into pig tails by two red ribbons.
“Would you be interested in buying some Girl Scout cookies?” Her grin was wide and she was missing one of her front teeth. It was then that Bucky noticed the box she held in her hands; it was filled with tiny packets of miniature cookies ranging from chocolate chip to strawberry icing.
Bucky stared down at her, silent, but her grin didn’t falter and she continued as if she didn’t notice.
“I’m here with my group today. We are raising funds for an animal shelter not far from here. Our leader thought it would be a good idea to try our luck here because it’s so busy. I recommend the caramel-”
She trailed off, brown eyes slowly growing in size as they scanned the image of James Buchanan Barnes on the display and then Bucky’s own nervous expression.
“Holy crap!” She exclaimed suddenly, lips parted. She was blinking at him, not trusting her own eyes. Bucky was blinking, too; over the exits and possible escape routes.
“It’s you! I need to get my friend. Stay he-"
"No, no," Bucky interjected, reaching out his hand towards the girl to stop her from rushing away. She didn't move, and Bucky dropped his metal hand, suddenly very aware of what he was doing and the child's eyes glued to the vibranium. He dug his hand back into his pocket and tried to pretend nothing ever happened.
"You have a metal arm? That's wicked cool!"
The young girl was grinning from ear to ear and Bucky felt utterly confused by her reaction. Most people showed fear and flinched away when they saw the prosthetic; he'd expect a child to be beyond terrified. Much to his surprise, this girl showed no signs of fear, only amazement and curiosity.
Bucky cleared his throat. "I mean... No one knows I'm here." He tried to remember how to speak to a child. "It's kind of a secret."
He attempted to curl the edges of his lips up into a smile but it just ended up looking forced and untrue.
"But she would die if she met you," the little girl pressed. "She did a project on you for history class. She got the highest grade."
The soldier pursed his lips, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. He stared down at the girl, not quite knowing what to say. One thing he did know, however, is that a pleasant warmth spread through his abdomen at a thought of a kid doing a project about his life pre-Hydra. He wished he could tell Steve about this.
"Please don't tell anyone I'm here," Bucky looked at the girl with his big blue eyes. "I'll do anything."
"Anything?" The little girl cocked her eyebrow. When James nodded, her grin widened.
"Buy my cookies. All of them."
Bucky furrowed his brows at her request.
"What am I supposed to do with a box full of cookies?"
The blonde shrugged her tiny shoulders, a smirk across her face.
"I don't really care. I just want to get an award for being the first one to sell everything. It's a family ticket to a theme park."
"I don't think that's a good idea. Is there anything else?" Bucky was getting frustrated, staring down at the child with a frown. He didn't like being blackmailed by adults, let alone little kids.
"Nope, it's either that, or I'm going to get my friend," she paused for a moment, scanning the area behind Bucky. "Oh, look. That's her right there. Emily-"
Bucky immediately interjected.
"Okay, fine. You win." He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out some cash. The little girl handed him the entire box and took the money. It turned out Girl Scout cookies were far more expensive than he assumed.
"Now, what do I do with all these?" Bucky muttered as his blackmailer counted the money. She seemed pleased.
"Eat them. Give them to your girlfriend if you have one. Whatever you want. They're all yours and I'm gone."
She waved a quick goodbye and skipped away, leaving a defeated Bucky with a box of cookies in his hands.
When he stepped through the door of his and Y/N's hotel room later that day, Y/N was already there and she was looking out the window, impatiently tapping her foot against the floor. She turned around when she heard the door closing and breathed out a huge sigh of relief.
"There you are. I thought something might have happened. Are you-"
Her eyes scanned his appearance, stopping on the box he held in his hands.
"Cookies?" She quirked an eyebrow.
Bucky sighed. "I was blackmailed into buying them by a nine year old with ribbons in her hair."
Y/N chuckled, making her way across the room and plucking a single packet of chocolate chip goodness out of the box.
“Charming,” she told him.
Bucky set the box down on the desk by the wall and glanced towards his bed. Several shopping bags rested on top of the freshly made sheets. On his pillow sat a passport, an airline ticket and what he soon learned was a piece of paper with an address.
He could feel Y/N’s eyes on him as he picked up the passport. It was for him; his photograph displayed on the first page and next to it a name; James Smith. Bucky scanned the rest of the passport and realised it looked like any other.
He set it down and picked up the small sheet of paper.
“It’s where we’re going to live. It’s a small apartment that I picked out today. I already contacted the owner and he’s ready to meet with us the day after tomorrow.”
Lastly, Bucky picked up the airline ticket, his eyes scanning the front.
“How’d you know?” He asked her, looking up at the younger girl over his shoulder.
“How’d you know that I’d choose Bucharest from the places you mentioned?”
Y/N smiled, swallowing the last cookie and wiping the corners of her mouth with her index finger.
“I just had a feeling.”
Bucky allowed the edges of his lips to curl upward, hooking onto Y/N’s heart when he turned around. He released a breath, looking at her from across the room and not really knowing what to do. Seconds passed before he finally parted his lips.
“Thank you,” he told her with a nod. “Not only for this but for everything you have done for me. Thank you.”
•••
The flight to Bucharest was long and tedious. Y/N had to admit, she was nervous about using fake documents to get through security but thankfully, no one seemed to question the authenticity of their passports.
Y/N allowed Bucky to rest his head on her shoulder and sleep for a few hours but he spent the majority of the flight looking out the window.
When they landed, they took a cab to another hotel and got a room for the night. In contrast to the previous two nights, Bucky fell asleep the moment his head hit the hotel room pillows and when Y/N emerged from the small bathroom, dressed in her pyjamas, she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his face squished against the pillows. She crouched down beside the bed and stroked his hair softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead before, too, getting into her own bed and falling asleep.
•••
The apartment Y/N chose surprised Bucky. Honestly, he was expecting some sort of a cold, colourless ruin but he was happy to find that instead, the two bedrooms were painted with bright shades, that the tiles on the walls in the kitchen were all different colours and that there was even a vase of fresh flowers waiting for them on the coffee table in the sitting room; a small welcoming gift from the landlord.
“Do you plan on living in Bucharest permanently?” He questioned in a thick accent. He was a short, dark haired man with glasses and a moustache. He also had a good sense of humour and Y/N laughed at the jokes he made.
“Possibly,” Y/N answered, looking at Bucky who was staring out the living room window, hands hidden in the pockets of his sweatshirt.
The landlord smiled. “Ah, I understand. Young couples are all about travelling before settling down in one place these days. Like my daughter for instance. Makes life interesting.”
Y/N smiled sheepishly, deciding not to explain her relationship with Bucky to a complete stranger. The lesser he knew about them, the better.
They ended up signing the lease and when all the paper work was completed and the landlord had left, Y/N looked to Bucky who stood by the wall.
The younger girl strode across the wooden floor to where he stood, a bright smile stretching across her face when she took his bionic hand in her own.
“They’re not going to find you here. I promise,” she told him. “This is our home now. Let’s make the most of it.”
When Bucky nodded in agreement, she grabbed her bag and began tugging him towards the front door.
“Come on, let’s go get a few things to make this place feel like home.”
And although Bucky didn’t want to admit it at first, he absolutely fell in love with IKEA. He allowed the younger girl to lead him through various show rooms, and asked for his opinion on curtains and cushions and rugs and bed sheets.
Honestly, Y/N didn’t expect him to be as enthusiastic as he was about the whole thing. But Bucky felt comfortable around his new housemate and he found that home decorating was more enjoyable than he’d ever imagine.
Besides, it was nice to be doing something normal. Bucky liked Bucharest; no one knew who he was and he could easily blend in with the crowd. No one showed fear or screamed as he strolled through the store with his hands in his pockets and an old lady even smiled at him when he picked up the scarf she dropped and handed it back to her.
Not a single person spared a second glance in Bucky’s direction and it was nice; he enjoyed their absolute indifference and did what everyone else did, looking for things he liked.
Y/N stood with her back to him, attempting to pick a set of plates and bowls, seemingly undecided about which colour she should choose. Bucky stood at the side, casually glancing around him as people walked by, small children clinging onto their parents’ hands.
And then he noticed something intriguing. It was another one of the store’s show rooms; except that this one was decorated with colourful 40′s style love seats, polished wooden bookshelves, French art deco chairs, and framed posters of Billie Holiday, Bing Crosby and Count Basie.
Not really thinking much about it, Bucky sauntered towards the show room and stopped when he was standing next to one of the book shelves. This tiny example of a living room looked like something Bucky would dream of having before the war.
He gazed with awe at the patterned rug and the big lamps behind the sofa. The set up reminded him of home and when he looked down at what was placed on top of one of the lower bookshelves - a vintage record player - he couldn’t stop the smile from appearing across his face.
Bucky used the index finger of his flesh hand to trace the carved, polished cherry wood of the device, and he smiled fondly at it. He once had a record player pretty similar to this one; except that his own was in a poorer condition.
Snippets of memories involving listening to the artists whose photographs were perched on the wall appeared at the front of his mind and Bucky closed his eyes for a moment to savour the memory.
He could almost hear a saxophone playing in his mind and he desperately tried to cling onto the sound, but the noise of the store made it difficult. There was a child screaming incessantly somewhere behind him, the chatter of families and the clatter of pots and pans making it impossible to hold on to the blissful memory.
After a few more seconds, he pushed himself away from the record player and returned to where Y/N stood, scribbling something onto the page she grabbed when they first entered the store, a bright smile adorning her face. She hurried to fold the sheet of paper when she noticed Bucky approaching and the older guy cocked an eyebrow at her odd behaviour but didn’t question her about it.
•••
When they returned home, Y/N cooked dinner while Bucky worked on unpacking some of the smaller things they had bought. He carried the things Y/N chose for her room to the master bedroom, setting everything down on the bed.
So far, the two bedrooms were unfurnished, apart from double beds in both. That would soon change, however, as Y/N ordered desks and bedside tables and bookshelves and even weird, large exotic plants for the place.
Bucky spent some time in his own bedroom, making his bed and trying to figure out the weird lamp Y/N insisted was the "most awesome thing they'd find at IKEA". Every time he pressed the button on the side of the lamp, the colour of the light would change but the damned thing just wouldn’t switch off. In the end Bucky got angry and pulled the plug out of the socket.
When he was pretty much finished, deciding to leave his suitcase untouched until the furniture would be delivered, he strolled back to the kitchen where Y/N was finishing making some deliciously smelling spaghetti.
Bucky sat down at the tiny island in the centre of the room, watching as she swayed her hips to the music coming from the green radio she bought for the kitchen. Bucky found himself smiling as she quietly hummed to the tune of the song, completely unaware of his presence.
Watching her acting so carefree and relaxed when she knew there was a killer in her home made Bucky smile. He felt warmth in his chest at the thought of this girl giving him a chance to be a normal human being. She knew who he was, and Bucky was aware that she, herself, probably had some dark secrets - being Pierce's daughter and all - but he trusted her and the idea of losing her made his stomach tie into knots.
She continued swaying her hips as she stirred the sauce and when she spun around, a wooden spoon in her hands, to see Bucky watching her, she appeared mortified. Bucky's heart clenched at the sight of her cheeks turning a deep shade of red.
She smiled an embarrassed smile and pointed the long wooden spoon at Bucky.
"You scared me, mister."
Bucky reciprocated her grin and watched as she gave him a playful warning look and turned back to the pots and pans on the cooker.
“I didn’t mean to,” Bucky answered with a hint of a smile. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the sight when she glanced at him over her shoulder.
She attempted to hide her grin before continuing to stir the sauce. “I hope you like spaghetti. I’m not a very good cook but I make some mean tomato sauce.”
James released a quiet chuckle, running his fingers over his dark hair. “I haven’t had a home cooked meal in what? Seventy years? I think it’s safe to say I won’t be complaining.”
•••
As weeks went on and Bucky became more comfortable, slowly adjusting to a normal life in the twenty first century, his other personality traits revealed themselves.
Bucky liked to tell jokes and as he regained more of his memories, he’d recite old punch lines which he remembered always made Steve crack up. They affected Y/N in a similar way and sometimes his jokes would have her rolling around on floor, clutching her stomach with tears rolling down her cheeks.
Sometimes his humour was subtle, innocent almost; other times it was crude and boyish. Every day Y/N waited to hear another silly joke from him and he never disappointed. Unless, of course, he was having a bad day.
After what he went through, it was only normal for him to have days where he didn’t have the energy to get out of bed or talk. But Y/N was always patient; never failing to climb into bed behind him and cuddle him for hours, or make him hot drinks and stroke his hair.
The first few months were especially difficult for Bucky; every night he was bombarded with dreams - sometimes nightmares - showing fragments of his past and every morning he’d find himself pondering over the images with a cup of steaming coffee in his hands, situated by the large window in the living room.
Speaking of the living room: it turned out that Y/N had seen the way he admired the 40s style showroom at IKEA and decided that there wasn’t a better way of making him feel at home, than decorating their own apartment in a similar manner. Without Bucky’s knowledge, she ordered the showroom’s art deco furniture, a patterned rug, those framed posters of 40s musicians and even the beautiful record player Bucky fell in love with.
It was a funny moment, really; the surprise on his face upon returning from an hour long walk around the neighbourhood to find their living room completely redecorated was beyond hilarious. He stood, motionless, in the doorway, for a moment even considering if he walked into someone else’s apartment by accident. But when Y/N emerged from the kitchen with a bunch of IKEA delivery guys behind her, holding a clipboard and pen in her hands, Bucky realised that she did all this, went through all this trouble just for him; just to make sure he felt comfortable and safe and at home.
Then, as expected, the delivery team left and the second they were alone, Bucky hurried across the room and enveloped his closest - and only - friend in a massive hug. Something within him just cracked at the realisation that this wonderful young girl in front of him cared so much about him.
He clung to her, and Y/N could feel his uneven breaths and a few hot tears on her shoulder. She held him tightly, stroking his hair and kissing the top of his head when he lowered himself onto the floor and pressed his cheek to her stomach.
“Hey, hey,” she tried to get his attention, delicately scratching his scalp and rubbing his shoulder. “Why are you crying?”
When Bucky didn’t respond she managed to loosen his grip on her middle and kneel down beside him. She held his face in her hands, smiling softly at the slowly returning light in his eyes, the new found hope for a brighter future.
“I just-” He had to pause, his adorable hiccup forcing Y/N’s lips up into a wider smile. “I just didn’t think I’d be able to feel happy again, and here you are, believing that after everything I can just lead a normal life. You can’t even imagine how grateful I am.”
It was true; the ex-assassin was beyond thankful to have Y/N in his life. He couldn’t comprehend the thought of being on the run from Hydra all by himself. The thought alone made a feeling of emptiness spread within Bucky’s chest and he’d gulp at the terrifying idea of not having anyone to help him adjust to this crazy new world.  
Y/N understood him, or at least she tried to, and that was all Bucky needed. She gave him all the time he needed to adjust; she was patient, caring, loving, and she never failed to make him smile, even on his worst days.
For the first couple of days they slept in separate rooms. Y/N didn’t know if Bucky wanted all this physical affection she was willing to give him, and she was terrified of being suffocating. At first glance Bucky didn’t seem like the kind of person who liked to be held or kissed; especially not after the stuff others had put him through.
But the reality was that Bucky hated being alone at night. Over the years he had spent being Hydra’s puppet, he grew accustomed to constant noise, discomfort, and pain. It was weird for him to lay on a soft mattress under a fuzzy blanket in a completely quiet room, no feeling of approaching danger gnawing at his mind. The peace and the silence were... deafening, almost. He despised being able to hear the steady beating of his own heart, or the rustling of the sheets whenever he changed his position.
For three nights he struggled to keep his eyes closed and his mouth shut, but when the exhaustion got to him on the fourth night, he decided he was sick of the silence. So he grabbed his pillow and quietly exited his room, maneuvering around the brightly coloured furniture in the pitch black hallway until he reached his destination.
Y/N’s bedroom door was ajar and there was light peeking out from the narrow space between the door and the frame. The lamps weren’t on, Y/N just had a habit of forgetting to shut her curtains and the moon was high up in the sky that night, illuminating her room and casting a silver light on her sleeping figure.
Bucky pushed the door open ever so slightly and just watched her for a moment. She was tangeled in her white sheets, clutching a large pillow to her chest as if she believed it was a person, her face buried in the snowy fabric and Bucky couldn’t stop himself from gulping, wanting so bad to just be that pillow.
He stood there for two, maybe three minutes, captivated by the serene expression across her face, one leg draped over the mess of sheets on the mattress. She was only wearing a black tank top, a pair of dark purple boyshorts covering her lower half. Her mouth was parted slightly and she just looked so soft and warm and inviting in the eyes of Bucky.
She stirred in her sleep, slowly waking when she detected the presence of someone in the room. Bucky’s heart sped up as she lifted her top half just slightly off the mattress, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Bucky?” She murmured, voice laced with sleep. She blinked her eyes several times and then looked at him in concern, wondering what on earth he was doing watching her sleep at one in the morning. But then she figured he probably had trouble falling asleep and before Bucky could open his mouth and apologise for coming into her room, she slid back on the mattress to make space and lifted the covers.
“Come here,” she told him, motioning with her head. Bucky’s mind didn’t register what he was doing as his feet carried him towards the bed but the next thing he knew, Y/N was wrapping him up to make sure he was warm and then her arm was sliding around his waist, her chest pressed to his back and she was kissing his shoulder.
“I’m sorry for just standing there, watching you,” Bucky whispered after a while and Y/N expelled a soft laugh.
“You don’t have to explain yourself. I’m more than happy to have you sleep with me.”
Much to his own surprise, Bucky did sleep that night. Once he was comfortably settled on the mattress, the sound of Y/N’s quiet breathing lulled him to sleep in a matter of seconds. For Bucky, there wasn’t a thing in the world that made him feel quite as relaxed as Y/N’s arms around him, her lips pressing feather light kisses to his flesh.
And, just like that, it became a routine. The next evening when Y/N’s yawning signalled that it was time to head to bed, Bucky found himself wondering if she’d let him sleep with her again. He didn’t dare ask, figuring he didn’t want to be annoying, but Y/N gripped his metal hand in hers and tugged him towards her room, letting him sleep with his head on her chest that night.
A month after their move to Bucharest Y/N stumbled upon a page in the newspaper, advertising a job at a nearby electronics store. Truthfully, she wanted to return to the real world and develop a routine for herself.
Sitting at home all day was nice for a while; she could read and spend time with Bucky but she was starting to miss the outside world. With her qualifications she was hired within moments of entering the store and she made sure to pop into a shop and buy some champagne so herself and Bucky could celebrate.
When she got home, however, taking off the uncomfortable shoes she decided to wear to the interview and setting her shopping bags on the floor, she quickly realised that Bucky wasn’t present in the lounge where he usually resided in the afternoons.
Y/N removed her jacket, glancing around the living room and furrowing her brows at Bucky’s absence. She figured he might have went out for a walk around the neighbourhood or something, so she decided not to worry and instead head to her bedroom to change. On her way, she passed Bucky’s room and stopped in her tracks at the sound of music coming from behind the door.
After Bucky began spending the nights in Y/N’s bed, his old room became entirely empty. Bucky’s clothes were moved to the giant closet Y/N ordered, and extra pillows were placed on her bed so he would be comfortable at night.
Y/N was silent as she lightly pushed the door open and peeked her head out from behind it. When she realised that Bucky was, in fact, present, she stepped inside.
Her eyes scanned the room first. The double bed which came with the apartment was standing on its side against the wall to make move floor space. The record player had been moved from the living room and it rested on the window sill, playing a quiet jazz tune as Bucky sat on the floor with his back facing the door.
The wooden floor was covered with newspaper, a selection of different sized containers of paint scattered across the room, and in the centre, among buckets of liquid colour sat Bucky.
Y/N noticed that his hair was pulled back into a low bun and that his metal arm was raised but she couldn’t see what he was doing from her current spot. The brunette wasn’t wearing a shirt, only a pair of tight fitting maroon sweatpants and the scars on his back were visible from where Y/N stood by the door.
It was only when Bucky sensed her presence in the room that she finally caught a glimpse of what he was doing. Bucky turned his head to look at Y/N over his shoulder, and that’s when she noticed the canvas in front of him, a long brush in his hand.
For a moment, Bucky looked like a deer in headlights but when Y/N closed the door behind her and slowly made her way towards him, kneeling down behind him and wrapping her arms around his middle, Bucky relaxed.
Their eyes fell upon the unfinished painting in front of them and Bucky waited for Y/N to say something, but instead she just pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder and admired his work.
The painting was a rather messy one, a combination of acrilic and watercolour mingling together to show a chaotic portrait of Steve. There were droplets of watered down paint running down the canvas, dripping onto the newspaper covered floor and staining it with various shades of blues, pinks and purples.
The look in Steve’s eyes was one of absolute defeat and Y/N’s mind wandered back to the day Bucky told her about recognising his old best friend during a mission. Y/N instinctively wrapped her arms tighter around the brunette’s middle, as if in a feeble attempt to protect him from his painful memories.
“I don’t remember much about him,” Bucky muttered quietly, placing a hand over the arm Y/N had wrapped around his middle. She kissed his shoulder once more, encouraging him share his thoughts if he wanted to.
Bucky sighed. “I don’t remember much, but I wanted to put down what I do remember,” he stated. “A way of... making sure I don’t forget, I guess.”
The brunette’s voice was soft as his blue eyes studied the painting in front of him. He didn’t consider himself to be a particularly good painter, but the piece depicted what it was supposed to. Steve looked distraught, surprised, maybe even a little terrified.
“I can always help you get in contact with him, you know?” Y/N stated quietly, hating the idea of Bucky not being able to reconnect with his childhood best friend. The two obviously had a profound connection and who was she to stop them from rekindling their friendship? Maybe she’d be putting herself in danger, but Bucky deserved to be happy. Besides, if Steve was as great as everyone made him out to be, then he wouldn’t do anything that would risk Hydra finding out about Y/N’s and Bucky’s whereabouts.
“No,” Bucky shook his head at the idea, yet his eyes remained focused on the painting in front of him. He closed them for a brief moment when Y/N pressed another kiss to his shoulder, squeezing him tighter in her embrace.
“Why not? You care about him, and he cares about you. I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to speak to him.”
Bucky released a breath, tearing his gaze away from the mess of paint and turning his head so he could look at Y/N instead. Her expression showed curiosity and concern; concern for Bucky’s happiness.
“I don’t remember him that well,” he lied. “Maybe sometime in the future. When more memories come back to me. Until then, all I need is you.”
He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose, pushing himself up from the floor and pulling her up to stand next to him. Y/N glanced at the painting of Steve one more time as Bucky tugged her out of the room and into the kitchen.
It wasn’t that Bucky didn’t want to see Steve because my God, he wanted to more than anything. He yearned to feel Steve’s hair tickling his cheek as they hugged, or hear his dorky giggle whenever Bucky cracked a stupid joke. He wanted to talk to someone who understood what life was like back in the 40s; someone with the same life experiences as himself.
Y/N was an amazing help in getting Bucky back into the real world. But despite her caring nature, there was still something that was missing; a brother. And unfortunately, that wasn’t something Y/N could be to him, no matter how hard she’d try. Not that Bucky wanted her to; what she was doing for him up to that moment was more than enough, and Bucky knew that he was developing feelings for her.
And much to his own surprise, those feelings weren’t exactly platonic. He cared for her as if she were family and he’d stop at nothing to protect her, sure. But there seemed to be a less innocent undertone to Bucky’s feelings when he really thought about it.
Firstly, sleeping together and exchanging kisses wasn’t a thing that you’d do with any old friend; especially not the kind of kisses where they’d be lying in bed together and he’d be biting her neck and she’d be struggling to breathe. At first Bucky saw it as a distraction from his gloomy thoughts but as weeks passed, he’d find himself craving the softness of her mouth against his.
He tried to brush it off, saying it was his boyish nature making a come-back. He remembered being quite the ladies man back in the day and he figured a part of him still yearned for the closeness of an attractive girl.
Soon, however, he realised that he was completely indifferent to cute girls he’d pass on the street. He didn’t care for the attractive girl who worked at the local library that always seemed to smile a bit too flirtatiously at him, or the cheeky barista who had his favourite coffee memorised.
Bucky didn’t think about any of them longer than necessary and when it came down to relieving his pent up sexual frustration in the shower, it was always Y/N’s pretty lips and soft skin he thought about.
Bucky longed for her comforting touch and feather light kisses. He knew Y/N was the only person in the world who could make his dark thoughts vanish with as little as a tight embrace or stroking his hair.
He cared for her so deeply that the last thing he wanted to do was to put her in danger. After all, she had a perfectly nice life that she could’ve easily kept if it weren’t for Bucky. She could still be living in her giant house in Washington, her father could still make her breakfast every morning and she could be working undercover for Nick Fury.
It was Bucky who took that life away from her and despite knowing she threw it all away willingly, Bucky still felt guilty. It was because of him that her father was dead and that she was on the run in a completely foreign country with no old friends to talk to. It was just the two of them, trying to rebuild lives for themselves without allowing the past to haunt them.
This is why Bucky took it upon himself to make sure nothing would sabotage that. And even though he wanted to see Steve, to talk and be held by him, he decided against it. If Steve knew about his whereabouts he’d come to Romania, and that, in turn, would raise some serious questions within S.H.I.E.L.D.; possibly Hydra, too.
He wasn’t going to risk anyone finding out about where they were; he wasn’t going to risk putting Y/N in danger like that. If he could go seventy years without seeing Steve, he could go another few decades until they would both be old and not remember each other at all.
And so weeks passed, then months, and then a year.
As time passed the walls of their apartment became covered with paintings depicting Bucky’s past, and then, in places like their bedroom, the coloured canvases showed images of Y/N’s sleeping form tangled in the sheets, or her sitting on the bed with a book in her lap or just going about normal, every day things.
Bucky liked the contrast between the dark and scary paintings that covered the walls of the hallway and the sheer purity and tranquility of those in their bedroom. He liked to paint Y/N because it relaxed him. A sense of fear was always present when he tried to put his past down on paper, but when it was Y/N he painted, all he felt was absolute peace.
It was one cold winter night when Y/N woke up to an empty bed. Instead of sleeping next to her, Bucky was situated on a chair at the foot of the bed, one leg crossed over the other, a sketchbook perched on his lap. He wasn’t wearing anything apart from a pair of black boxer briefs and it took him several seconds to realise that Y/N was awake.
“Are you drawing me sleeping again?” Y/N smiled at him lazily, rolling onto her side and draping a leg over the mess of sheets next to her.
Bucky sat with his back facing the window and the street lamps outside cast a subtle glow on the page in front of him. It was almost four in the morning but the sound of drunken teenagers outside their apartment building still resonated through the open window. A chilly breeze made Y/N shudder, goosebumps rising on her skin.
It wasn’t a surprise, really. The temperature in the apartment was unbearable in the evening and all windows had to be opened before they went to bed. Hours later, however, Y/N found herself a little bit cold in just the lavender shorts and simple black bralette she wore to sleep.
Y/N stayed silent for several seconds, watching Bucky’s eyebrows knit together as he continued drawing. His lips were pursed together and his eyes narrowed in concentration; Y/N found the sight of him to be beyond captivating.
After a while, however, she decided to force herself up into a sitting position and push her messy hair out of her face. She glanced at Bucky again, smiling a little as she got onto her knees and moved across the mattress towards him.
“Can I see?” She asked quietly, giving Bucky an innocent grin and leaning forward.
“Nope,” Bucky grinned back, shielding the sketchbook from her view.
Y/N pouted as she leaned towards him and placed her hands on his thighs, her knees glued to the mattress and her middle hovering above the space between Bucky and the bed. The brunette twisted his torso in the opposite direction, a laugh escaping his lips at Y/N’s stubborn nature.
“Come on, Buck. Let me see,” she whined incessantly, reaching out further and attempting to grab the sketchbook. Not really thinking much about it, she lifted her knee from the mattress and placed it on Bucky’s chair; a second later she was sitting in his lap with her legs folded on either side of him.
Bucky laughed again and dropped the sketchbook onto the floor by the chair, a place unreachable for the younger girl who had situated herself comfortably in his lap. Bucky’s fingers were quick to grab onto her hips, holding her in place and preventing her from leaning down and grabbing the object she was so desperate to get her hands on.
“You love to torture me, don’t you?” She shook her head in disbelief, a smile stretching across her face.
Bucky pretended to think for a moment but the dorky look on his face only made Y/N laugh harder.
“Only sometimes,” he answered with a casual shrug of his shoulders, hooking his bionic arm around his friend and pulling her closer. Y/N yelped as their chests collided and she expelled a contented breath upon burying her face in Bucky’s neck.
He held her close, liking the feeling of her warm flesh pressed against him and enjoying the innocent affection she granted him in the form of feather light kisses on his jaw and neck.
“Why are you up at 4am anyway?” Y/N asked quietly, tilting her head back to scan his expression.
Bucky sighed and squeezed her tighter in his embrace, readjusting her in his lap and pressing his scruffy cheek to her chest. Y/N ran her fingers through his messy hair, stroking his scalp slowly.
“Was it a dream?” She was worried he had another one of his nightmares; she despised the affect these bloody memories had on him.
Bucky hesitated, hiding his face in her bralette to make sure she didn’t see the redness on his cheeks. “Something like that,” he finally managed, but when Y/N placed her index finger under his chin and lifted it slightly to see the unmistakable blush across his face, it all clicked in her mind.
“That kind of dream,” she said, more to herself than to him. “And that’s why you couldn’t sleep?”
“Yeah,” Bucky confirmed, closing his eyes in mortification. “I haven’t had a wet dream since I was a sixteen year old boy in pre-war Brooklyn.”
Y/N used his moment of absolute embarrassment to slide off his lap and onto the floor. She had his sketchbook in her hands before Bucky could even open his eyes and by the time he reacted, she was already sitting on the floor with her back pressed to the side of the bed, eyes glued to the sketch in front of her.
Bucky knew he had been defeated and there was no point in trying to get his sketchbook back now; she had seen everything there was to see and he was sure that his face reassembled the colour of the star on his left arm. He slowly slid onto the floor and sat down next to her, glancing at the sketchbook in her hands and beating himself up for putting the image in his mind down onto paper. He should’ve just kept it to himself.
“This is... wow,” Y/N’s wide eyes couldn’t seem to look away and she felt a weird fuzzy sensation in her lower abdomen. Sure, Bucky had drawn and painted her before, but never like this.
None of the paintings hanging from the walls in their apartment depicted her from this angle, in this position and especially not in so little clothing. She tilted her head to the side, looking at the drawing from a different perspective and realising that it was her turn to turn the colour of the communist flag.
“So this is the image that kept you up?”
Bucky remained quiet, hands folded together and resting on his lap. He looked like a child waiting to be yelled at for doing something they shouldn’t have, but Y/N wasn’t angry. In fact, she was blown away with the sheer intensity of the drawing.
And despite it being based on what she looked like sleeping - what she looked like only minutes earlier - there was a weird forties feeling to it. Maybe it was the sexy yet modest femininity of it, or maybe it was the hat she had seen in pictures of Bucky just before he was sent to war. On Sergeant James Barnes it looked adorable but on Y/N it just looked silly, especially considering the rest of the uniform was missing.
Y/N was looking back at her own eyes and she couldn’t quite believe it was her. The face looked like her own, as did the body, but the eyes - blazing, almost whispering “come to me” - looked like the eyes of some other woman; a woman more sexually experienced and open than herself. The thought of lying naked in a bed with a soldier hat on her head and a look of overwhelming need for what could only be sex had never crossed her mind.
Now that she was looking at it, however, the idea didn’t seem that bizarre. In fact, she was picturing it and soon, she felt an unexpected longing to bring this simple sketch to life.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” Bucky announced, trying to play it cool. He reached out and tried to pry the sketchbook from Y/N’s hands but she kept a strong hold on it.
“I like it,” she told him suddenly, tearing her eyes away from the page and lifting her head up just long enough for Bucky to notice that she, too, had turned an impossibly red colour. He smiled at her shyness.
Y/N moved to face Bucky, sitting on the back of her calves and continuing to study the drawing. She bit her lip lightly, looking up at Bucky with a smirk she was evidently trying to hide.
“So, uh... the hat?”
Bucky scrunched up his nose as if he had tasted something sour. He looked cute; so embarrassed and at a loss for words yet still amused with the situation. Y/N’s smile remained as she asked:
“Why did you decide to put it in there?” She nodded towards the drawing which now rested on the floor next to them.
Bucky looked to the ceiling as if searching for answers, and Y/N giggled at his attempt to give himself more time to think of a suitable reply.
“I don’t know,” he answered finally. “I mean, before the war I had this fantasy of a girl I was in love with wearing my uniform... or rather the hat and nothing else. I know, it’s dumb but it was just this fantasy I had. It seemed like a funny and cute thing to witness.”
His shrug had Y/N quirking an eyebrow. “Who was the girl?”
Bucky smiled, a lazy kind of smile that made it seem like he was looking back fondly at the memories. Then he expelled a laugh in the form of a tired breath.
“There was no girl. I thought it would be a nice thing to come home to, you know? But the place where the girl’s face would’ve been was always vacant; just waiting for me to meet someone I’d care to come home to every evening.”
Y/N felt a pressure in her chest, realising that now her own face filled that vacant spot in Bucky’s heart. She leaned forward when Bucky finished speaking and pressed a long kiss to his cheek, letting her lips linger there for a few moments.
When she pulled back just slightly, Bucky turned his head so that he was facing her and hesitated before moving closer and capturing her lips with his.
Y/N’s hands slowly moved to his face and she held it in place, fearing that he’d pull back sooner than she’d like him to. Lucky for her, that didn’t seem to be an issue because only a few seconds later the brunette was gripping her sides and pulling her closer, encouraging her to straddle his thighs the way she had before.
The kiss wasn’t broken as she moved forward on her knees, situating herself comfortably where Bucky wanted her. His mouth moved slowly against her own, wanting nothing more than to enjoy every moment to the fullest. Bucky was sitting up straight, his back no longer pressed to the side of the bed and he was putting every bit of emotion he had into the sweet exchange. He could feel every worry and every bad thought he had evaporating with the feeling of her delicate hands holding his face and stroking the back of his head. He could feel himself melting under her, feel the tension disintegrating, his body succumbing to the relaxation that kissing her brought him.
It took a while for it to transform into something more than just innocent kissing on their bedroom floor. But as minutes passed and Bucky felt his mind losing the need to be overly cautious, he stopped kissing her lips and moved further south, connecting his mouth to her uncovered collarbone and feeling her shudder when his breath hit her skin.
Y/N was surprised at first; they had only ever really done this once and the circumstances were entirely different. Last time she could feel his need to release his frustration and tension; it was quick and messy. Y/N didn’t think that they’d ever do it again; she thought it was a one time thing and that they’d go on pretending that it never happened.
She wasn’t going to lie, however. She had thought about and imagined what it would be like to do it again. This time without the fear of someone barging in, or Y/N’s anger and Bucky’s suffering mingling into the tension between them to form a lethal combination. And finally, after several months, she was getting an opportunity to find out for herself what it would feel like.
Her mouth fell open and a gasp escaped when Bucky pressed his tongue flat to the base of her neck and she could feel the corners of his lips curling up at the reaction he provoked. His mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ shape as he allowed his instincts to kick in and sucked a small patch of skin until it turned pink and purple.
When he withdrew, Bucky’s own mouth was swollen and his eyes blazing, begging for Y/N to agree to bring this whole thing to a new level. She didn’t have to be told twice, her own need for something more than just innocent kisses clouded her judgement and the next thing she knew, her fingers were buried in Bucky’s hair and she was leaving hot, open mouthed kisses down his jaw, neck, and finally his chest.
Every movement and every action was fuelled by their need for each other. Bucky was breathing heavily and he had thrown his head back as Y/N’s lips moved down his body and he could already feel himself throbbing like a pathetic teenage boy about to lose his virginity to the hottest girl in school. He was greedy and impatient and Y/N’s mouth felt so good on his heated skin he feared that if she thought it was a good idea to tease him, he’d actually spontaneously combust.
But she wasn’t one for torturing him - at least not that night - and it wasn’t long before she was pulling Bucky’s boxers down his legs and giving him a cheeky wink before situating herself between his parted outstretched legs and pushing him past the swell of her lips. Only a short moment passed before Bucky succumbed to his primal instincts and tangled his metal fingers in her hair, the other fumbling with the strap of her bralette, wanting so bad to just rip it off.
“Fuck,” he muttered, expelling a deep groan and throwing his head back. Bucky had almost forgotten how good oral sex could feel and the sight of Y/N between his parted legs wasn’t helping to delay his imminent orgasm. Her mouth felt warm and wet around him and the tiny sounds she was making - the quiet hums and heavy breaths every time she’d come up for air - had Bucky whimpering out her name.
Bucky’s cock looked so good in her hand, her feminine fingers wrapped tightly around the hard, pulsating shaft. But the sight of the swell of her lips against the bulbous head, or her pink tongue licking up the tiny beads of pre-come, had the brunette gasping for air, eyes watering with tears at just how amazing she was making him feel.
For a moment Bucky’s vision remained glued to the ceiling, lips parted as he wondered how it was possible for him to feel so much pleasure after decades of nothing but suffering. A mere few months ealier he believed it was impossible to escape from the pain; yet here he was safe, happy, with the girl he knew he was falling in love with making him feel things he didn’t know were possible.
He pulled her hair lightly and she moaned around him and glanced up. Y/N’s eyes met Bucky’s and he watched as his length disappeared into her mouth again, deeper than before.
“You’re gonna have to slow down a bit,” Bucky told her, a bit breathless. “I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that.”
But Y/N was adamant on making him feel good and refused to go easy on him. Her eyes watered as he hit the back of her throat, time after time, and it wasn’t long before Bucky’s metal fingers were tightening the grip they had on her hair and his mouth was falling open, tiny little groans falling past his swollen lips.
He came in short hot spurts down her throat and when he was absolutely spent Y/N began peppering sweet little kisses up his stomach until she reached his neck.
“Was that any good?” She asked quietly, kissing the spot right below his ear and feeling Bucky’s hands begin to wander. He stroked her sides, still a bit breathless, and then he was turning his head and connecting his mouth to her jaw.
“You’ve no idea,” he responded, a yelp escaping her lips when he lifted them both from the floor and placed her gently on the bed, smiling coyly before getting to work on returning the favour.
For two years everything was going beyond fantastic. Bucky was slowly recovering, taking his time to go back to a normal life. He was painting every week and even sold some of his works to a small art gallery in town where people could admire his talent. He took up cooking, and found enjoyment in surprising Y/N with new recipes he’d find on the internet. He befriended the guy who lived in the apartment opposite theirs and took care of his dog whenever he’d leave town to see his family.
Bucky was happy; he was living a normal life and he could go out for walks every evening and watch the leaves falling in autumn and curl up next to the girl he loved when he was cold and just enjoy the wonders of a simple life.
As for Y/N she grew to love her job. Fixing electronics was something she liked and everyday she’d wake up happy to go to work. It wasn’t a difficult job which required a lot of energy; for Y/N, going to work every morning was like a hobby she was getting paid for. Over the two years they spent in Bucharest she had learned the language and even convinced Bucky to go on a week long trip to explore the country’s places of historical value. Long story short, Bucky really fell in love with the Dracula Castle and upon their return home, he read Stoker’s “Dracula” and painted the spooky fortress.
James Buchanan Barnes was a creative soul and took up many artistic activities. At the beginning it was just painting and drawing, but as time passed things like cooking, writing and even knitting were added to the list. Y/N found the sight of him sitting under a blanket in the living room with knitting needles in his hands and a collection of different coloured wool next to him, a concentrated frown adorning his face, to be beyond amusing. His first finished product was a thick yellow scarf that Y/N loved to wear to work on cold winter mornings.
Unfortunately, their time of peace came to an abrupt end two years after their arrival to Romania.
Initially, the day started off like any other. Y/N woke up first and peppered kisses all over Bucky’s face until his eyes opened and he was awake. The brunette made breakfast as she showered and got dressed, and by the time she was ready to go to work, Bucky had placed a whole stack of pancakes on the kitchen island for her to eat before leaving.
She kissed him again when she entered the kitchen, thanking him quietly for the breakfast and munched on her food while Bucky worked on preparing eggs and bacon for himself.
“So, what are your plans for today?” She questioned casually, taking another bite of her pancake.
Bucky flipped the eggs and grabbed his mug of coffee, taking a generous sip as he leaned against the counter. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll do a bit of grocery shopping.”
Y/N finished her food and then headed to work, a smile present on her face as she went about her business at the store. It was a pleasant day; the place wasn’t particularly busy and she had lunch with one of her co-workers before heading home for the day.
Bucky’s day, however, was far from relaxed. Sure, he headed to the library and returned the books he was finished reading. But upon arriving at the market where he did most of his and Y/N’s grocery shopping, he realised his day was only going to get worse.
It started off when the guy working in a kiosk sent him a fishy look. Bucky pretended he didn’t notice, but the guy kept staring at him and when Bucky decided to step closer, he exited the small booth and ran.
Then there was the newspaper which had his face plastered onto the front page, announcing that Bucky had been involved in a bombing in Vienna on the same day he spent in bed with Y/N doing absolutely nothing.
The article led to Bucky rushing home and finding no one else but Steve Rogers standing in his and Y/N’s living room, looking at the paintings on the wall with an expression of utmost disbelief.
The piece he was looking at was Bucky’s very first painting, depicting his blonde best friend the day he was ordered to kill him.
Bucky felt strangely uncomfortable having Steve look at the painting. The nervousness of having Steve so close to him dominated the thoughts he had about being hunted down by the police.
Steve turned slowly upon realising he was no longer the only person in the apartment and Bucky honestly felt at a loss for words. His mind was absolutely blank and looking at Steve standing across the room in his silly American flag uniform made him feel both scared and surprisingly relieved.
Then his mind wandered back to Y/N and he wondered how he’d explain all of this to her.
“Do you know me?”
The question could’ve been answered one of two ways, and thinking about the circumstances and consequences, Bucky figured the best thing to do was to lie.
He avoided contacting Steve for two years in fear of putting Y/N in danger but there he was, at their apartment, and Bucky knew that it was only a matter of time before someone would knock down their door and try to shoot them.
“I know you’re nervous. And you have plently of reasons to be.” Steve always knew when Bucky was being dishonest. “But you’re lying.”
“I wasn’t in Vienna. I don’t do that anymore.”
A male voice sounded from Steve’s radio, warning them that only seconds separated them from being attacked. Steve ignored his friend, eyes focused solely on Bucky.
“I can see that,” he told him, looking around him, acknowledging the little love nest Y/N and Bucky had built for themselves. Steve’s eyes briefly wandered to the photograph of Y/N perched on the wall, recognising her as the girl who helped take down S.H.I.E.L.D. two years earlier. Steve knew what she did for Fury, but he also knew that she was Pierce's daughter and that she was involved with Hydra for years. He didn't like the idea of this girl snatching Bucky away from him, no matter what she had done to help Fury.
Steve diverted his attention back to Bucky, deciding now was not the time to lecture him on his choice of friends. He'd do that later.
The brunette had moved towards the door, listening to the noise of footsteps approaching the apartment.
"This doesn't have to end in a fight, Buck."
"It always ends in a fight," he responded, sounding rueful. He could already feel the happiness being drained out of him. He knew that there was no going back and there wasn't a chance of Y/N coming home that afternoon and cuddling up next to him on the couch. Never again would they lay in bed together in this lovely little apartment they shared and talk about nonsense like why giraffes had long necks or why there was no gravity on the moon.
Bucky knew that escaping from this world of violence and brutality was too good to be true.
"You pulled me from the river. Why?" Steve's voice got louder with the increasing volume of the German special forces standing outside the door. They could hear their talking, getting ready to knock down the door.
"I don't know."
"Yes, you do."
And then it began; a tear gas canister was thrown in through the window and the front door was knocked down all in the space of a second. Bucky succumbed to his instincts, not thinking much as he fought his way through the special forces, attempting to escape the building with Steve trying his best to keep up with him.
What he didn't know was that it was all pointless.
•••
Y/N's grin remained as she entered the apartment building, her earphones in her ears, an upbeat tune adding a swagger to her step. She walked up the steps to their floor, noticing the unusual mess on the staircase. She brushed it off, assuming that one of their neighbours was renovating their apartment and proceeded upstairs.
When she got to her destination, Y/N’s heart began to hammer in her chest at the sight of the broken down door, realising that the mess on the staircase originated from inside her and Bucky’s apartment.
She pulled her earphones out, not bothering to turn off the music, too distracted with the sight in front of her.
Y/N cautiously stepped over the rubble on the floor and quietly entered the apartment. She was paying attention to being exceptionally quiet. At first she assumed that someone might have broken in, but no burglar would make a mess of these proportions. She feared the absolute worst.
But before Y/N could even get a good glimpse at the living room, she was already being pinned down to the floor, her hands being pulled behind her and cuffed.
The young girl struggled beneath the weight of what she soon learned were German special forces, catching a glimpse of the letters on the back of their jackets.
“Ms Pierce?” One of the agents asked, and Y/N briefly wondered what would happen if she said they had the wrong person. Would he apologise for attacking an innocent civilian who simply walked into the apartment to check what all the commotion was about?
“That would be me,” she responded breathlessly, still situated on her stomach, trying to get a look at the four men surrounding her. They all wore black and had a number of weapons strapped to their uniforms, heavy helmets protecting their heads.
“We’re going to need you to come with us,” the male told her, roughly hoisting her up to stand on her own feet.
•••
The worst thing about the whole ordeal was that as Y/N was being forced into the grey bulletproof van which waited outside her apartment building she still had no idea what was going on. Of course, she figured it had something to do with Bucky and she was already freaking out internally but she refused to let it show. After all, these guys could easily use it against her and she had no intention of finding out how they would do that.
”Hey, no need to be so rough with me,” she told the agent as he pushed her inside the van, having already uncuffed her. Y/N rubbed her sore wrists as the door was slid shut, a frown visible across her face. She almost didn’t notice the guy sitting next to her, or the other two in front of her, one of which she soon realised was Steve Rogers.
”Who the hell are you?” The question tumbled past her lips before she realised and an expectant frown was present across her face as she turned to the guy on her left. His eyebrow was cocked.
“Hey Steve, I didn’t realise we were picking anyone up. I thought the boys left to get food.” His sense of humour was surprising, considering the circumstances. He turned to Y/N and flashed a smile. “I’m Sam, Captain America’s best buddy and also a fucking idiot for following him like a stray dog.”
Steve released a tired breath, shaking his head without turning to look at Sam. The guy sitting next to him remained silent.
“And who are you, may I ask?” Sam questioned, trying to seem polite.
The van began to move and Y/N thanked the heavens she had been uncuffed. She slowly put on her seatbelt and was just about to respond to Sam’s question before she was interrupted by Steve.
“Alexander Pierce’s daughter. One of the most important and skilled people at Hydra. Responsible for ninety percent of the crap we’ve had to deal with.”
The young girl narrowed her eyes, glaring at the back of Steve’s head. It was as if he felt her eyes on him and turned slowly, looking at her over his shoulder with a bitter smile.
“Did you have a good time hiding Bucky from me? What kind of lies did you feed him, huh?”
Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line, trying her best not to explode. She was already fuming and they had only been in the van for less than five minutes. She had yet to find out where they were taking her and her anger only grew with each passing minute.
“For your information I was the one who helped Bucky escape. I don’t know what Fury told you, or rather what he hasn’t told you, but I was working for him for months, trying to take down Hydra. So you can shut your mouth before I make you.”
A moment of silence followed, and even the guy sitting next to Steve raised his eyebrows in astonishment.
“Feisty,” Sam muttered under his breath, and nothing else was said until almost an hour later. By then, Y/N found out they were being transported to Berlin, thanks to the agents talking in the front seat, and realised she was in deep, deep trouble.
The guy sitting next to Steve turned out to be the new king of Wakanda, also the country’s protector known as the Black Panther. He seemed a little condescending to Y/N and she didn’t like the way he spoke of Bucky, so when Sam asked him if he liked cats, mocking his vibranium suit, she had to cover up her laughter with a forced cough.
Sam, in turn, sent her a cheeky grin and Steve told them to be quiet.
By the time they arrived at the facility in Berlin after what had to be the longest and most tedious car ride of Y/N’s life, Sam had explained the entire situation to her. He kept his voice low, not wanting the agents in the front seat to hear everything, and Y/N was thankful to have somebody tell her what was going on.
She wondered what Bucky was feeling. Was he scared? Did he know she had been captured, too? Hundreds of questions rushed through Y/N’s mind at a thousand miles per second and not a single one of them could be answered.
However, upon being permitted to leave the van once they arrived - and feeling an awful cramp in her legs after sitting down for so many hours - Y/N finally caught a glimpse of Bucky.
He was situated in a giant glass cube, strapped down to his seat by metal cuffs. He was frowning, seemingly deep in thought, but when his eyes met Y/N’s from across the building his expression softened. He went from frustrated to shocked to confused to scared in the space of a second and Y/N gave him a sad smile before she was led away to be psychologically evaluated along with the other three guys she shared the ride with.
Lucky for her, by the time they got to the floor on which they’d be kept, Y/N had been separated from the rest of the group and placed in a room by herself.
The place surprised her; she was expecting a cell but instead she was led to a small office with television screens, a conference table and a sofa by the wall. She wasn’t in there five whole minutes before the glass door was pushed open and an individual with a familiar face stepped in.
“Nice to see you again,” Y/N told Natasha, sending her a small smile as she situated herself on the sofa. She crossed her legs over each other, waiting for the red head to say something.
“You would’ve seen me sooner if you hadn’t vanished into thin air two years ago,” she joked, then her expression turned more serious. “Fury had me look for you for months. I’ve never seen anyone just disappear like that. Well done.”
Y/N chuckled at the compliment, running her fingers through her hair. “What’s gonna happen to Bucky?”
Natasha cleared her throat, avoiding Y/N’s gaze. She hesitated before replying.
“Psychological evaluation and extradition. Who knows what the US or the Wakandan government will decide to do to him after that.”
A moment of absolute silence passed. Natasha felt awkward being the person to tell Y/N about this. The younger girl, on the other hand, was too busy worrying about Bucky to realise.
“And what could that involve?”
Natasha’s lip quirked up into a tiny grin. “Stop worrying about Barnes. He’s safe downstairs. You have other things to worry about.”
Y/N cocked an eyebrow expectantly.
“They want to charge you for helping a criminal escape from the country and for what they believe is betraying S.H.I.E.L.D. and the US government. They think that you and Barnes have been working for Hydra all this time you were missing.”
Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Tell me about it,” Natasha scoffed.
Both of their heads turned towards the door when Tony Stark stepped into the room. He looked focused, a little distraught, maybe. Y/N had heard a lot about him from Fury but never actually got the chance to meet him. It was weird to finally get the opportunity to introduce herself in these terrible circumstances.
“Take a seat, Nat. I’m gonna need you to back me up here.” Tony motioned towards one of the chairs at the conference table and Natasha smiled softly before sitting down.
Tony shut the door, silently circling the table until he was standing in front of Y/N. He casually leaned against the glass surface, giving her a small smile.
“I’m Tony. I can’t say I’ve heard a lot about you from Fury, but I know a substantial amount.” He held his hand out and Y/N shook it, reciprocating his smile.
“Now, I have some good news and some bad news. The bad news is I was talking to the guys downstairs and they’ve decided that they’re not going to question you about anything until you arrive in the States. They don’t want the German government getting theirs hands on any information the US is not willing to share. And despite it sounding like a good thing, believe me, it’s not.”
Y/N narrowed her eyes, waiting for Tony to elaborate. She could feel herself becoming more and more nervous with each moment that passed and she yearned to return home to Bucharest and forget this whole thing ever happened.
Tony smiled sadly again. “They’re convinced you’ve been working for Hydra over the past two years but Natasha here,” he nodded towards the red head, “knows that you’ve actually been recruited by Fury. Unfortunately Fury had gone into hiding a few weeks after what happened in Washington so he can’t confirm anything. To make matters worse, no files with your name exist since Fury didn’t want your father knowing you were working undercover. They think you’re more dangerous than Rogers.”
“What’s the good news, then?”
Tony chuckled quietly at how impatient she was being.
“The bombing in Vienna took place during the signing of the Sokovia Accords. I’ve spoken to a few important people, pulled a few strings and they have agreed to forget the whole thing if you stand on our side. If you also agree to the terms of the Accords.”
Y/N was utterly confused. “What has any of this to do with me?”
Tony looked to Natasha who then continued, “The guys downstairs figured that you and Barnes are together. The Secretary of State thinks that if you sign the Accords, Barnes will follow your steps and surrender unconditionally. They’re hoping that if Barnes is on our side, Rogers will sign the Accords, too. A chain reaction.”
“Basically they want to use you to get Cap to sign.”
Y/N still didn’t know what to feel about this whole thing. She knew that Bucky didn’t mean to do any harm, so he’d probably have nothing against ending this whole thing in peace. However, the smile on Tony’s face made her feel as if he was hiding something from her, trying to trick her into something she’d later regret.
“Sorry, Mr Stark, but I’m not going to sign anything or take sides until I know what’s really going on here. Something doesn’t feel right and honestly, right now, I have better things to be doing than being used by the government.”
Tony’s grin seemed to disappear but he kept his cool, nodding his head curtly and silently walking out of the room with Natasha following.
•••
Y/N remained in her comfortable prison for a little bit longer. She was brought food by a young girl who only spoke German and she spent the majority of her time there pacing the room, trying to understand what on earth she was supposed to do.
It wasn’t like she could just push the door open and leave. Or could she?
She got the opportunity to find out when the lights in the room switched off and an alarm began to blare so loudly she feared it would burst her ear drums. The door to Y/N’s room opened on its own and red emergency lights flashed imminently on the ceiling.
She slowly stepped towards the door and peaked her head out, noticing that the corridor outside was absolutely deserted. She took a deep breath before exiting the cell, cautiously making her way down the corridor. She tried to be as quiet as possible, looking over her shoulder every couple of seconds to make sure she wasn’t being followed. She decided to descend the stairs and see what all the commotion was about. After all, her door wouldn’t have opened without a reason.
She wandered through corridors, climbed and descended several sets of stairs but she couldn’t seem to figure out where the hell she was going. A voice coming from an intercom located somewhere in the hall told everyone to evacuate themselves from the building immediately but there seemed to be nobody where Y/N had been locked up.
She continued trying to find her way to an exit for what had to be at least ten minutes. The building was giant, consisting of a maze of long windowless corridors and the lack of lighting wasn’t exactly helpful. Y/N was sure she had been walking around in circles until she caught a glimpse of red in the corner of her eye.
She turned quickly and released a breath when she realised it was Bucky. But her relief was short lived. Bucky was trudging towards her, his hair having fallen in front of his eyes and he looked angry yet focused.
“Buck?” She asked softly, and it was only when he didn’t reply that she realised she wasn’t talking to her soft, loving Bucky who liked to paint and knit her scarves.
The Winter Soldier gripped her wrist, remaining completely silent as he pulled her towards another staircase and forced her to climb up, throwing her over his shoulder when he realised she couldn’t keep up with him.
“Bucky, what are you doing? What happened?” Y/N asked, trying to get through to him. Warm wind whipped through her hair before she heard a door closing and it was then she realised they were on the roof of the building.
Bucky didn’t say anything as he carried her. The Winter Soldier walked over to the helicopter located on the centre of the roof and yanked the door open, throwing Y/N inside without much care.
The younger girl rubbed her elbow as he circled the machine, getting in on the pilot’s side and preparing to take off. Y/N’s heart was beating like crazy; for one, she had no idea how they managed to activate the Winter Soldier. Bucky had told her about his trigger words but he assured her that nobody outside of Hydra knew them. Besides, why was the Winter Soldier escaping with her?
What Y/N didn’t know was that two years back, when her father first assigned her to work with the Winter Soldier, they had reprogrammed him so that he wouldn’t hurt her. He had been programmed to protect her at all costs and always put her safety first.
Having been activated by Zemo, the first thing the soldier thought of was bringing Y/N to safety.
The helicopter had just lifted off the ground when Y/N noticed the door through which Bucky had carried her opening, and Steve exiting in a hurry. He ran towards the helicopter and Y/N assumed he must’ve grabbed onto the skids because suddenly they stopped lifting up.
Y/N noticed that Bucky was looking in the other direction; too focused on getting Steve to let go. She looked out the window, noticing that the helicopter was only about two metres off the ground. She glanced at Bucky again but he wasn’t looking at her.
Y/N took a deep breath before hurriedly opening the door and doing what had to be the most stupid and dangerous thing in the whole world, and jumped out of the helicopter.
She landed gracefully on her feet and didn’t look back as she ran in the opposite direction. She passed Steve, who didn’t even notice her and made sure she wasn’t anywhere near the helicopter as the blonde super soldier continued to pull it down.
Y/N was breathing heavily, wishing she could help but the only thing she could do was watch. She was surprised by Steve’s strength when he succeeded in stopping the helicopter from taking off, but her surprise turned to fear when the helicopter, Bucky and Steve all fell into river beneath the pad.
She ran towards them but by the time she got to her destination they had already fallen, and she stared at the water below, praying to God that they would be alright.
She stayed there for a moment, her eyes wide open with fear as she watched the helicopter sink to the bottom. Moments passed and nothing happened, until she finally saw a head of blonde and a head of brown appear above the surface.
She released a breath of utmost relief, closing her eyes for a brief moment before opening them again. She pursed her lips, breathing in heavily. She had to get down there, and fast.
•••
Bucky regained consciousness two hours later.
By that time, Steve had moved him to what looked like an abandoned metalwork factory, and situated him on the concrete ground with his vibranium arm held in place by a hydraulic press.
Sam had joined them, as had Y/N. She sat with Wilson in the corner while Steve kept a watchful eye on what was going on outside. No one seemed to have figured out where they had gone to.
“I mean, I’m not an expert but I don’t think anyone should just jump out of a helicopter,” Sam joked, watching as she smiled ruefully and glanced towards Bucky. He was still unconscious and Y/N was growing worried.
“She has done a lot of stupid things, Sam. This isn’t the first,” Steve stated from across the room, turning back to the group. Y/N glared at him again.
“Oh, yeah? Like what for instance? Make myself a target for a terrorist organisation to save your best friend? Participate in the killing of my own father to save your ass while you were on that damn Helicarrier? Please, enlighten me, because I would really like to know why you hate me so damn much.”
“If it wasn’t for you, Bucky could be living happily in Brooklyn with me right now. None of this shit would be happening if you could just follow Fury’s orders and hand him over once you escaped from Hydra,” he told her, his voice gruff, laced with sheer anger.
She wasn’t sure when, but next thing she knew, Y/N was standing up and her fingers were balled into fists. About ten feet separated her from an angry Steve and honestly, she was just itching to punch him.
“Please, are you actually stupid enough to believe that the government would just let him out into the streets and permit him to have a normal life? They’d put him in a high security prison and you wouldn’t have seen him ever again.”
Sam decided to butt in, his voice calm. “She does have a point, Cap.”
“You’re a selfish, crappy agent who couldn’t even do her job right. All of this is your God damn fault... What happened in Washington is your fault because you couldn’t stop your daddy in time. And why? Because you’re just like him.” Steve pointed a long accusing finger at Y/N and she scoffed at his stupidity.
“You watched Bucky suffer for years. You watched him be Hydra’s puppet and you did nothing to stop them.”
Y/N was fuming.
“The second I saw a chance to help him, I took it, Rogers. Not all of us have super soldier serum running in our veins.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “You have to accept-”
“Shhh,” Sam suddenly interrupted, raising his index finger. The two looked towards him and then diverted their attention to Bucky when Sam nodded in his direction.
He was waking up, his eyes fluttering open and Y/N could feel relief flooding her senses. He groaned quietly, quickly realising that his arm was immobilised and that he wasn’t the only person in the room.
“Y/N? Steve?” He whimpered out, forcing himself into a sitting position. He looked around the room, disoriented.
Y/N’s heart clenched in her chest and she smiled softly before deciding to make her way over to him. Before she could even take a step forward, Steve had grabbed her bicep, preventing her from moving towards him.
He turned his head to the brunette. “Which Bucky am I talking to?”
Y/N yanked her arm out of his grip. “That’s enough,” she told him angrily.
Steve looked at her again, almost seething with rage. “It’s enough when I say it is.”
Y/N glared at him and made her way over to Bucky. He was situated on a stone stool and she smiled lovingly at him as she kneeled between his parted legs. She cupped his face gently, looking into his eyes.
“How are you feeling, Buck?” She asked softly and he smiled back at her, allowing his free hand to tuck a strand of her hair behind his ear.
“I’ve been better,” he told her and chuckled lightly before adding, “I didn’t get to finish that grocery shopping.”
Y/N laughed, too. “And I forgot to do the laundry last week. We’re even.”
Steve coughed behind her, snapping them out of their little moment. Bucky looked towards him, feeling calm as Y/N gently stroked his face and watched him carefully, making sure he wasn’t injured.
“What did I do?” Bucky asked, sounding apologetic and regretful. Y/N wanted to tell him that none of what happened was his fault but Steve interrupted her before she could.
“Enough.”
Y/N looked at Steve over her shoulder, sending him a warning look. “Could you be useful and get him out of this contraption?” She motioned to the hydraulic press with her head. Her voice was laced with bitterness and even she was surprised by how angry the blonde made her.
Steve rolled his eyes but complied without a word, returning to his initial spot when Bucky’s arm was freed. Y/N laced her fingers with his own, kissing his knuckles one by one, just like that day two years back when he showed up at her kitchen.
He inhaled sharply, looking at Y/N as he spoke. “Everything Hydra put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the god damn words,” Bucky explained ruefully.
“Who was he, Bucky?” Y/N asked softly, wanting nothing more than to kill the guy herself. The brunette glanced at Steve, then looked down at her and smiled apologetically.
“I don’t know.” He narrowed his eyes, thinking for a moment. His forehead creased and his eyes narrowed. Y/N associated this expression of concentration with lazy afternoons, those silly knitting needles in his hands. “He wanted to know about Siberia. The place where I was kept. He wanted to know exactly where.”
Steve looked concerned. “Why would he want to know that?”
A moment of silence lingered and even Sam looked eager to find out why. Bucky’s eyes remained on his girlfriend, knowing exactly what she was thinking and feeling so guilty for being a part of everything that had happened. Neither one of them was guilty for what had yet to be explained, yet both felt liable.
Y/N pushed herself up from the ground, brushing the dust off her jeans. She turned to Steve.
“Because Bucky’s not the only Winter Soldier,” she told him quietly, glancing at his face briefly. She diverted her attention back to Bucky, knowing that he hated talking about any of this.
Steve’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked to Y/N. She moved to stand behind Bucky, one hand on his shoulder, the other twirling a strand of his hair between her fingers. She was so happy to have him alive and well.
“Who are they?” The blonde questioned.
Y/N sighed. “The most elite death squad. More kills than anyone in Hydra history. And that’s before the serum.”
“How do you know all this?” Wilson questioned, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.
Bucky raised his head and looked up at the younger girl, offering her a sad smile.
“I hacked into old Hydra files after we moved to Bucharest. I wanted to find out more about what was happening.”
Sam turned his attention to Bucky. “Did they all turn out like you?”
“Worse,” he answered. “These guys, they speak thirty languages, can hide in plain sight, infiltrate, assassinate, destabilise. They can take a whole country down in one night and you’d never see them coming.”
Y/N watched as Sam approached Steve and they proceeded to talk quietly between themselves for a few moments.
While they busied themselves with discussing the situation Y/N moved to kneel in front of Bucky again and kissed his cheek.
“None of what happened was your fault, okay? Don’t blame yourself for it,” she told him and Bucky smiled, kissing her mouth lightly.
“I’m sorry for all of this. I hate that they arrested you because of me,” he apologised and she shook her head at him.
“It would be twenty times worse if I just returned home from work and you were gone. If I had no idea what happened to you. I wouldn’t stand it.”
She pecked his forehead and stood up, turning to Steve expectantly. He was already looking at her.
“We need a place to spend the night,” he announced, and Y/N’s mouth curled up into a smirk.
“I know the perfect place.”
•••
The “perfect place” turned out to be a house that Pierce had bought years back due to his constant visits to Germany. It was there he stayed the weekend a sixteen year old Y/N found out he was responsible for the death of her mother. Y/N knew the police wouldn’t check the house. After all, there was no record of her existence in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s old files and nobody apart from Nick Fury and Maria Hill knew where she lived prior to leaving the US. There was no way they knew about a vacation home Pierce had purchased back in the 90s.
They didn’t leave the factory until after sunset, wanting to lower the chances of being caught. They arrived at the house close to midnight and Y/N smiled when she found a spare set of keys under a flower pot by the gate to the back garden, just where she remembered her father leaving it years earlier.
She entered the house first, switching on the lights and looking around. Bucky was behind her, studying the expression across her face as she drank in the sight of her childhood vacation home. Her parents had brought her to Berlin several times in her younger years and even after her mother was killed, she’d visit the house with her father.
“You alright?” The brunette asked her softly, and Y/N nodded her head, smiling when he took her hand and squeezed it gently.
“There’s enough bedrooms upstairs for everyone to get a good night’s rest. Unfortunately there’s no food so we’ll have to figure something out. I can always head out and buy something or we can just order food. I doubt the pizza guy works for the government,” she told them.
Steve and Sam headed upstairs in search of the bedrooms while Y/N moved to the living room. The whole place was perfectly clean, just the way she had last seen it and Y/N gulped at the sight of pictures of herself, her father and her mother perched on the wall.
“Hey, don’t pay attention to any of this,” Bucky told her softly, standing in front of the photograph of her father so she couldn’t see it. He stepped closer to her and embraced her in a hug, holding her tightly when she buried her face in his chest.
“It’s been such a long day,” she muttered, tightening her grip on him, wanting nothing more than to get into bed with him and sleep for a few hours. She wanted to be held by him and she wanted to kiss his shoulder and cuddle him forever.
“Go take a nice long shower. I’ll order some food,” he assured her and kissed her forehead before retreating.
“There’s a stack of food delivery brochures in the cabinet next to the fridge. Order a lot. I’m starved.”
Bucky smiled again as she headed up the stairs and to her old vacation room. She passed one of the guest rooms on her way; the door was open and Steve and Sam seemed to be in a deep conversation inside.
She decided not to interrupt and as told, took a long shower, changed into an old pair of pyjamas and collapsed on the bed. The food arrived almost forty minutes later and she had to drag herself downstairs, grabbing a wad of cash from another one of Pierce’s hiding spots and paying for the delivery.
The group ate around the kitchen island and when they were finished, everyone headed to bed. Lucky for Y/N, Bucky was just as eager to sleep with her head on his chest and not even a minute passed after they climbed into bed that both of them were fast asleep.
•••
The next morning consisted of getting into a “borrowed” VW Bug and meeting Steve’s friend, Sharon, to pick up their weapons and suits. When that was out of the way the group drove to the airport and discussed what they were going to do on the way.
Despite not being a super soldier, or a trained assassin, or having a wicked set of falcon wings, Y/N had a job of her own and she was happy to help.
Her mission consisted of staying by Sam’s side while he located the Quinjet the opposing team had arrived in, sneak on board, do some hacking and wait for the rest of the group to join her so they could fly to Siberia.
Y/N watched from a well hidden spot as Steve went outside and talked to Tony. His goal was to distract him for a few moments, giving Falcon an opportunity to find out where the Quinjet was before the inevitable fight would begin.
Y/N had to admit, she was nervous. Sharon had equipped her with tight fitting fighting gear and weapons which she was more than acquainted with using; she had guns, knives, high tech explosives and even a taser strapped to her clothes but none of these things was of any help in calming her nerves.
She wasn’t even that anxious for herself; she was more afraid of what would happen to Bucky. This entire ordeal was caused by the stupid fake psychiatrist who just couldn’t seem let go of the past and Y/N wished she could use the weapons she had on no other person but himself.
Y/N made sure not to be seen as she headed in the direction Sam had told her to go and kept a secure hold on her gun while she ran. The fight was only beginning, and Y/N tried not to pay attention to any of the punches thrown and just focus on her own mission. Lucky for her, Bucky wasn’t anywhere in sight and she could easily proceed towards the hangar, going unnoticed by the distracted team.
It was only when Y/N got inside and climbed on board that she released a sigh of relief.
The inside of the Quinjet was sleek and modern, nothing out of the ordinary for Tony Stark and his need for everything expensive and extravagant. Not that she was complaining; because of the fact the Quinjet had been programmed similarly to his Iron Man suit, Y/N’s job of hacking the system and sabotaging his work was made easier.
She was a bit out of breath from the running she had to do in order to get to her destination but she got an opportunity to rest when she took a seat at the console and got to work. Pulling out her USB flash drive, Y/N’s smile widened as she got to work. She hadn’t had an opportunity to have a little fun with computers in a while.
Her focus remained as she began messing with Tony’s suit, beginning with minor faults like not being able to locate targets and then slowly making him lose the ability to shoot or fly too fast.
“Can’t believe I’m saying this but well done. Keep up the good work, Y/N,” Steve said through her earpiece and she was just about to respond when a hand on her shoulder stopped her.
She jumped slightly, not expecting anyone to be behind her, and upon turning her chair to face the intruder she almost gulped.
Natasha was standing over her and despite the circumstances, she looked amused. Honestly, the red head didn’t expect Barnes to bring his girlfriend to the fight. He thought they had hidden her in some safe house until all of this would be over. It was a big surprise to her when Tony told her someone was messing with his suit and asked her to check who stood behind it.
“Secretary Ross isn’t going to be impressed when he finds out about this,” Natasha stated, her tone confident and warning.
“And who’s going to tell him about it? You?” Y/N cocked an eyebrow, surprised with her own relaxed tone.
Natasha, believing she had the situation under control, took a step back and motioned for Y/N to follow her. She wasn’t expecting a fight; after all, who on earth would want to start a fight with her when they had an opportunity to avoid it?
And because Y/N was smart, she figured getting her hands dirty wasn’t a good idea. At least not for another while.
She released a breath, groaning at being caught and pushed herself up from her seat, following Natasha off the jet. It was only when their feet hit the concrete ground of the hangar that the fight ensued.
Natasha wasn’t expecting it so when Y/N attacked, she was unprepared. The red head was good at defending herself in hand to hand combat and tried to throw a few hard punches but Y/N managed to block them. The younger girl seemed to be able to predict Nat’s every move and after a solid minute of fighting and not being able to take her down, Nat began to grow agitated.
Who on earth could’ve taught her how to fight like this? It surely wasn’t Rumlow.
Y/N inhaled sharply before jumping high into the air, placing one foot on Nat’s hip and throwing her leg over her shoulder. She swiftly moved around her, managing to throw her off balance and cause Nat to fall onto the concrete. In a flash Y/N was straddling her waist, using one of Sharon’s fancy toys to immobilise her.
“Where did you learn to fight? Why are you able to predict my every move?” Nat was breathless but she couldn’t stop the question from tumbling past her lips. Her brows were furrowed and she was beyond confused, shocked at her own failure to predict this would happen. She should’ve guessed, the moment she found out Y/N was at the airport, that Bucky wouldn’t bring her here if she was helpless.
Y/N’s lip quirked up into a smirk and she sent Natasha a small wink. For a moment the red head even thought Y/N might have been trained in the Red Room like she was but she knew that couldn’t have been it. Her father wouldn’t send her off to be trained into a killer by the Soviets.
“We had the same teacher,” Y/N told Nat, pushing herself up and leaving the other girl unable to move on the ground. “He taught me a few things over the last two years.”
She turned her back and rushed back onto the jet, continuing her task from earlier on until finally, she was joined by Bucky and Steve, taking off from the hangar before the door was even properly shut.
•••
The flight was long, but no where near as frustrating as the drive from Bucharest to Berlin. Steve decided to take control of the Quinjet the moment they were out of the opposing team’s reach and Y/N smiled at him gratefully before making her way to the back where Bucky was situated.
“How was the fight?” She asked softly, sitting down next to him. She had pulled one leg underneath her and sat facing Bucky’s side, peering up at his face with a tiny smile. She was happy he didn’t get hurt.
“Same as any other,” he told her. “At least no one got killed.”
She pressed her lips to his clothed shoulder and he reciprocated her smile. Bucky noticed the dark circles under her eyes and felt bad for her. She didn’t have super soldier serum like himself or Steve and the events of the previous two days had taken their toll on her.
Firstly it was the stress, secondly the lack of sleep and lastly the fear for Buck’s well being. He smiled sympathetically and reached out his metal arm, stroking her cheek gently.
“Tired?” He asked, and she nodded lightly, releasing a breath. He patted his lap, sitting back on the bench and inviting her to use his legs as a pillow. She complied without much convincing, closing her eyes and feeling Bucky’s fingers stroking her side, his other hand gently playing with her hair.
“Sleep for a while,” he told her.
Y/N was asleep within moments, loving the feeling of Bucky’s warmth and his hands stroking her flesh ever so delicately. The Quinjet was filled with silence, the occasional sigh or cough being heard until Bucky finally spoke up almost an hour later.
The flight to Siberia gave him a chance to think about everything; their actions and consequences, what would happen when all of this would be over and if he’d get the chance to live normally again.
Truth be told; Bucky hated fighting. He hated having to use violence, he hated guns and he hated the way people treated him because of his past. It seemed that no body understood him - he felt like even Steve wasn’t exactly on the same page as himself - but he was willing to keep going; having Y/N on his side was enough to motivate him to fight for their happiness.
“What’s going to happen to your friends?” Bucky asked suddenly, looking fondly at the sleeping girl situated comfortably with her head on his lap. Her hair was soft between his fingers and he loved the tiny peaceful smile across her face.
Steve didn’t respond immediately, continuing to stare at the vast expanse of clouds ahead. They were nearing their destination; the ground beneath the jet was covered in snow and the screen in front of Steve informed him it was well below zero degrees Celsius.
The blonde sighed. “Whatever it is, I’ll deal with it.”
He thought the response was good enough to satisfy Bucky, especially when he decided to remain silent for a long moment after it. But Buck wasn’t exactly okay with it; his mind was overflowing with thoughts of everything and he felt guilty for not letting the special forces shoot him when they found him in Bucharest.
None of this would’ve happened.
“I don’t know if I’m worth all this, Steve.”
The younger guy’s mind seemed to freeze for a short moment and he almost turned to Bucky with the most confused and frustrated expression but instead, he kept his eyes on the clouds in front of him. He pursed his lips and willed himself not to tell Bucky how stupid he was being. Steve wished they could go back in time to the 40s when, even with the war going on around them, they felt happy and at peace.
“What you did all those years, it wasn’t you. You didn’t have choice.”
“I know.” Bucky bit the inside of his cheek, continuing to play with Y/N’s hair. “But I did it.”
The feeling of her next to him relaxed Bucky and he was so damn thankful to have her with him through all of this. She could’ve easily signed the Accords like Tony asked her, and gone back to a normal life on her own. But there she was, risking her life time after time just to be with Bucky. Even Steve had noticed the sacrifices she’d made over the years and a part of him knew that despite her past, she was good for his best friend.
“Look, you have a girlfriend who’s ready to go to the ends of the earth to be there for you, to protect and to care for you. I know I was unkind to her because of what she did two years back but I can see the way she looks at you. She thinks you’re worth all this, as do I, and I will try my hardest to make you believe that because you deserve to be happy.”
Bucky smiled sadly, and when Steve glanced at him briefly over his shoulder, he realised that Bucky was biting his lip, willing it not to quiver.
The Quinjet didn’t land for another while, and when it did, Bucky gently shook Y/N awake and kissed her cheek.
“It’s time to go,” he told her softly, and she allowed him to pull her up into a standing position, handing her the waist holster she decided to take off earlier on.
They got their weapons ready and Steve stood next to Bucky as they waited for the back door of the jet to open. A cold breeze whipped through Y/N’s hair as she stood behind them, making sure that her gun was loaded.
“You remember that time we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck?” Steve asked suddenly, and Y/N lifted her head at the question despite it not being directed at her.
Bucky looked at Steve and grinned.
“Was that the time you used our train money to buy hot dogs?”
“You blew three bucks trying to win that stuffed bear for a redhead.“
Y/N involuntarily raised her brow, lips curving up at the edges.
Bucky’s eyes narrowed in thought. “What was her name again?”
“Dolores. You called her Dot.”
Y/N removed the safety from her gun and took a step forward so that she was standing between them. The door was almost open by then.
She looked up at Bucky, sending him a playful smirk.
“Dolores, huh?” She asked, faking jealousy. Steve chuckled when she sent Bucky a wink and proceeded to exit the Quinjet.
“She's gotta be a hundred years old right now...” Bucky trailed off, looking to Steve.
The blonde laughed, patting Buck on the back as they followed Y/N outside.
“So are we, pal.”
It wasn’t long before the group realised the fake psychiatrist from before had arrived at the Siberian base hours before they had. The door to the base had been opened and there were no signs of the guy’s footprints on the snow, having been covered with a brand new layer.
Bucky feared the absolute worst. He knew the guy had enough time to awake the five other Winter Soldiers before they arrived and as they entered the facility, he instinctively moved in front of Y/N, shielding her from any danger which could’ve arisen ahead.
They hustled through the cold air and whizzed sneakily around dark concrete corridors, their weapons ready to be used if needed.
The base was huge, located underground and the trio had to take an old rusty elevator to get to the bottom. It was eerily quiet and the place almost had a sinister quality to it. As they moved, following Bucky to where he knew the soldiers were kept, Y/N wondered how many people were held captive there, how many people were tortured, and brain-washed and how many of them simply weren’t able to survive it all.
They were in the midst of climbing a narrow set of stairs when the noise of a metal door opening made them turn around. Y/N held her gun up, pointing it in the direction of the sound, noticing that Buck was doing the same thing next to her. Steve stood on a lower step, holding his shield tightly.
Y/N’s face contorted in confusion when Tony Stark emerged from behind the door, hidden behind his Iron Man mask, and looking strangely relaxed. The light of the arc reactor in the suit was almost blinding in the dim, windowless corridor. He continued towards them, removing his helmet.
“You seem a little defensive,” he stated casually, and Steve began to descend the short set of stairs to get closer. He was still holding his shield up, unsure about what was going on.
“It’s been a long day,” he responded cautiously.
Tony’s eyes quickly moved to where Bucky and Y/N remained.
“I’m not currently after you, Barnes,” he stated, then glanced at Y/N. “Thanks for messing with my suit, kid,” he told her, and she rolled her eyes.
“My pleasure,” she responded bitterly.
“Ross has no idea I’m here and I’d like to keep it that way,” Tony continued, moving to lean against the concrete wall. “Otherwise I’d have to arrest myself.”
Both Y/N and Bucky lowered their weapons at the sight of Steve doing the same. Her finger remained on the trigger, however, just in case Tony was trying to be cunning again. Y/N learned the hard way that it was better to be safe than sorry.
“Well, that sounds like a lot of paper work,” Steve chuckled, and Tony smiled. The blonde lowered his shield entirely and gave the other Avenger a small nod. “It’s good to see you, Tony.”
“You too, Cap.”
Unfortunately, the peace between them was short lived. Tony had found out that the Winter Soldier was framed for the Vienna bombing and he wished to forget about it and help them take down the other five super soldier plus the vengeful Zemo.
But things never went as planned for Tony and upon being exposed to the horrifying truth that on December 16th, 1991, Bucky had murdered both of his parents, Tony simply lost it.
Y/N’s heart ached as she watched Tony’s eyes fill up with unreadable emotions, watching the video of his parents being murdered. The sound of his mother crying out for Howard bounced off the concrete walls and Y/N could feel Bucky stiffening next to her.
She looked up at him, and saw the utmost guilt in his expression. His eyes were welling up and Y/N wanted to wrap him up and tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that it wasn’t him who did all of this. Unfortunately, when Tony turned to her boyfriend and looked at him with rage, Y/N realised that now wasn’t the time to do that.
She instinctively stepped in front of Buck, holding her gun tight when Tony attempted to charge towards the brunette. Lucky for her and Bucky, Steve pulled him back.
Tony stared at Steve expectantly. “Did you know?”
A moment of silence followed.
“I didn’t know it was him.”
Tony was losing his patience and despite not liking the guy too much, Y/N felt bad for him. “Don’t bullshit me, Rogers. Did you know?” He demanded through gritted teeth.
Steve hesitated and nodded his head ruefully. “Yes.”
Tony took a step back and glanced at the screen again. Y/N held her breath as she watched him weighing his options and for a moment she even believed he was going to let this whole thing go. Maybe he understood that Bucky wasn’t in control of the things he did in the past; that none of this was his fault.
But this was Tony Stark; the guy basically ran on vengeance and there was no way he’d let Bucky just forget about it.  
Another fight ensued and while Bucky, Steve and Tony threw punches, kicked and shot at each other, Y/N decided to do the smart thing and follow Zemo outside.
She knew Bucky would be fine. He had to be. Besides, Cap was there to protect him, and someone had to find the idiot who stood behind all this. Y/N noticed Zemo trying to sneak off when he thought no one was watching but he ought to have known better than that.
The snow crunched under Y/N’s feet as she made her way outside. Her heart was beating rapidly with the effect of adrenaline and she tried to distract herself from thoughts of Bucky by circling the base in an attempt to find Zemo.
When she found him, he was sitting on a rock with his back facing the building, overlooking the vast expanse of snow ahead. Y/N stayed hidden behind a wall, noticing that he wasn’t alone. Next to Zemo stood T’Challa, the infamous protector of Wakanda who wanted her boyfriend dead.
For a moment Y/N even considered shooting him from her current spot but she figured she shouldn’t let her anger towards him get the better of her. Besides, she doubted any bullet could penetrate his vibranium suit.
“Vengeance has consumed you. It’s consuming them,” he stated and paused for a moment. Y/N wondered why but she couldn’t see his face from where she was standing.
“I’m done letting it consume me,” he added, surprising the girl hiding behind the wall. “Justice will come soon enough.”
“Tell that to the dead,” Zemo responded, and before Y/N could react he was pressing a gun to the underside of his chin and T’Challa was catching the bullet in the palm of his hand, saving Zemo.
She came out of hiding when T’Challa had yanked the gun out of Zemo’s hand and threw it onto the snow behind him.
“The living are not done with you yet,” the Wakandan king reminded him, and turned his head upon hearing Y/N’s footsteps. She kicked the gun farther away, coming to a halt about three feet away from where the two were situated, T’Challa’s arm pressing down firmly on Zemo’s throat.
“And neither am I,” she added, tossing a pair of iron cuffs in T’Challa’s direction. He caught them with one hand and gave the younger girl a small nod before forcing Zemo to lay down on his front, pulling his hands behind his back, and putting the metal bracelets on his wrists.
“I know Barnes is innocent,” T’Challa told her, and she gave him a grateful smile. She watched as T’Challa hoisted Zemo up to stand on his own feet and then began tugging him in the direction of his jet.
“What are you going to do with him?” Y/N questioned, expecting to hear something about a Wakandan prison; the place he wanted Bucky to be transported to when he was being questioned in Berlin.
“Hand him over to Ross,” he answered, then looked towards the entrance of the base. “Don’t worry. I have him. You should probably return to your friends. I’ll stay here and make sure he doesn’t try to escape. I’ll be waiting for the others to come out so I can personally apologise to Barnes.”
Y/N nodded and spun on her heel, hurrying back inside the base. Her speed increased as she ran through the building, tapping her foot impatiently as the elevator carried her to the bottom.
She was out of breath by the time she got to the area where the now dead soldiers were kept. Only a mess remained on the ground, all caused by the fight between the three men. Y/N’s brows furrowed as she followed the rubble on the floor, soon catching a glimpse of Steve who was helping Bucky walk, holding his weight and stopping him from falling.
Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as she ran over. It was only then that she saw the damage done to her boyfriend’s prosthetic; most of it was gone, only a fraction of his bicep left. Loose wires and sharp fragments of soot covered vibranium remained. Bucky’s face was bloody and he was weak on his two feet.
When Steve noticed her, he whispered something to Bucky and then the latter looked up.
“My God, what happened?” Y/N demanded, grabbing a hold of Bucky’s face and pushing his hair out of his eyes. Steve was still holding him, allowing Y/N to take in the sight of her boyfriend and do what she had to.
Bucky’s lips curved up into a tiny smile at the sight of Y/N and she stroked his face, looking for other injuries she mightn’t have noticed yet.
“I’m okay,” he reassured her, but even Steve knew she wasn’t buying any of his crap.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight ever again. Do you hear me, Buck?” She told him, and Steve chuckled at her threat, knowing it to be true.
“Come on, let’s get him onto the Quinjet,” Steve motioned for Y/N to help him with Bucky’s weight and she didn’t have to be told twice before wrapping an arm around the brunette’s middle.
“There’s someone outside who wants to speak to you,” she said quietly, and Steve sent her a questioning look but she didn’t elaborate.
•••
The sound of Y/N’s high heeled shoes echoed off the walls of the Wakandan facility as she followed Ayo, T’Challa’s head of security down the lengthy corridor.
“Thank you for everything,” Y/N told the other woman when she stopped in front of a tall white door and motioned for Y/N to go inside.
“My pleasure,” Ayo smiled, flashing a set of pearly white teeth and walking away.
Upon landing in Wakanda with Steve, Bucky and T’Challa, the new king assigned Ayo to make sure nobody in the States would find out where they were and find them a place to spend the night in the facility. She was a kind woman with a short temper and T’Challa was surprised with her niceness towards Y/N.
Y/N pushed open the door and peaked her head out from behind it before finally entering.
It was a brightly lit, modern room with all sorts of technologically advanced equipment. A pretty Wakandan nurse sat behind a computer in the corner and she smiled at Y/N when she entered. She was surprised with everyone’s kindness towards her after everything that had happened.
Y/N’s eyes darted across the room to where Bucky was situated on a comfortable examination table, his feet dangling above the floor. He was wearing white, the remaining part of his bionic arm covered by a black fabric of sorts, preventing the loose metal from scratching his ribs.
He smiled when she approached him and she reciprocated the gesture as she moved to stand between his parted thighs and placed her hands of his shoulders.
“How are you feeling?” She asked him softly and Bucky reached out to wrap his arm around her lower back, pulling her closer to him.
“Better than yesterday,” he chuckled lightly and she leaned over to kiss his forehead, her hand stroking his face lightly.
“I love you, you know?” She asked, and her boyfriend’s smile widened.
“I know,” he answered quietly, craning his neck and silently asking for another kiss on his lips. She pressed her mouth to his, kissing him gently and loving the little grin on his face when she withdrew.
“Are you sure about this?” She questioned after a moment, her smile faltering a bit. Bucky’s decision to go back into cryo surprised her and she wanted him to change his mind but refused to stand in his way if this is what he really wanted.
He remained silent for a moment and she tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, kissing his mouth again.
“I can’t trust my own mind. So until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head, I think that going back under is the best thing for everybody,” he told her quietly, sending her a sad smile when he was finished.
“Not for me,” she replied, her tone laced with disappointment. Bucky kept his eyes on her, noticing that she was trying to stay strong in this entire situation but that her facade was crumbling. He tightened his grip on her and she buried her face in his neck, feeling his warmth and savouring every second of it. 
“Am I interrupting something?” She heard a voice behind her, and turned around to see Steve standing by the door with his hands in his pockets.
She shook her head at Steve and pressed a long kiss to Bucky’s forehead before retreating, allowing Steve to say goodbye to him before the doctors arrived.
“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back,” Bucky whispered to her as she was turning to walk away and she sent him a weak smile. 
Y/N and Steve stood by a wall as the proceedings began and she had to bite back a sob when the glass capsule closed and a white cold fog began to fill the space within it.
“Why didn’t you stop him?” Steve asked softly, eyes still focused on Bucky’s sleeping form inside the capsule. It was a peaceful yet horrifying sight.
“I wanted to, but after decades of not being able to decide his own fate, I thought I’d let him choose what he wanted to do without interfering,” she answered equally softly.
Y/N took in a sharp breath before spinning on her heel but before she could exit the room, Steve had placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Are you okay?” He asked, genuinely concerned. Despite their rough start Steve had actually grown to respect Y/N. She helped Bucky, she loved Bucky and Bucky loved her. What kind of a friend would he be if he came between that?
“No, but I will be,” she answered with a weak smile and continued out the door, letting it swing closed behind her.
T’Challa was standing alone in the corridor outside, looking at the vast expanse of trees on the other side of the window. It was raining, and Y/N almost scoffed at the fact the weather matched her gloomy mood.
She slowly made her way towards him and came to a stop when she was standing on his left.
“Did everything go as planned?” He questioned, and Y/N nodded.
“He went ahead with it,” she answered, biting her bottom lip.
“And what about you?” He turned his head towards her and studied her expression. He knew the feeling of losing someone most cherished by you; he understood the emptiness in her chest and the indescribable tightness of her throat.
“You know he’d hate for you to do this,” T’Challa noted, and she expelled a heavy breath, looking up at him from between her damp eyelashes.
“Good thing he doesn’t get to decide what I do,” she replied, then pursed her lips. “So where is this other cryo room you told me about?”
The taller guy smiled at her sorrowfully.
“Your bravery amazes me,” he declared, and Y/N chuckled sadly, glancing out the window, knowing it would be a long time before she saw the outside world again.
T’Challa motioned for her to follow him. “Right this way.”
tags: @stxnninq @spn-worm @becksly9 @melissalovesmusicyay @asirenscalling @green-spotlight @crownofmanga @mauve022 @bddybrnes @zoebet
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Text
The Winter Soldier is Here (“Protective Anger”-Part Eleven) (Bucky Barnes x reader/Winter Soldier x reader)
 Description: You’re working at the local farmers market when you meet Bucky and catch his eye, not only because you’re the only one who sells plums, but because you treat him like a normal person. As a friendship begins to bloom, it quickly grows into a relationship and you learn that life with Bucky isn’t as easy it originally seemed. I SUCK AT DESCRIPTIONS!
Word Count: 1392
Warning: None.
Author’s Note: Not every aspect matches with the Marvel films or comics. I chose to include and ignore some of the choices Marvel made for various reasons. Just know going in that not everything lines up with the storyline Marvel created and that is done on purpose.
Sorry guys, but this is going to be a short filler/background chapter. Good news is, the next chapter is already complete and will be posted very soon!
READER POV
-----------------
"So your kids can't make it for Christmas this year? I hate that," I said as Roger and I walked to my vehicle.
"(Y/n), how much do you know about this Bucky Barnes?" Roger's tone and pointed question caught me off guard. It was the quietest and simultaneously serious I had ever heard him. His voice had an edge I had never experienced.
"Mr. Roger, what do you mean?"
"(Y/n), I knew Bucky Barnes. I knew my brother, well. I want to tell you about him and how I knew Bucky as well. Jimmy met Barnes in training and they became friends quickly. Barnes didn't have any family, only a civilian friend, Steve, so he came home with Jimmy most of the times they were allowed to visit family. Bucky became a part of our family quickly. He was charming and made others laugh. He and Jimmy were a lot alike in that way. Before Jimmy left for war, he was all about charming the ladies, being the center of attention, and just living a happy life. Even during his training, he was the same big brother I knew and loved. He always made time for us, his siblings, it was just he, our younger sister, and me. He took interest in us and always showed us how much he cared about us. He always did his best to protect us in every way possible, which is why I saw him as the perfect person to become a soldier. I knew he would be a great protector of our great nation, much like he was a great protector of his family. He was always happy, he never let things get him down, even when things weren't so great for our family, but he always kept spirits lifted with his jovial mood."
Listening to Roger, it was evident how much he looked up to and idolized his brother, his serious tone had changed to more of a reminiscent one. "I don't think I've ever heard you talk about your brother this much, Mr. Roger. That's lovely. I'd love to hear about him more sometime."
"Good, because you're about to." The slick and sharp tone was back. "After my brother came back from war, he was not the same person I just described. He lost every friend he had made, including Bucky Barnes. They had all died or been captured and no one knew their whereabouts. He, Jimmy, was frail, paranoid, and hermit-like after he returned. When he was awake, and we were actually able to get him to leave his room, he would sit and stare, mind far from where he was. There were many nights that I ran to his room as I heard thrashing, crashing, and yelling. As you can imagine, he returned from war with PTSD. The entire first week back, he wrecked the house every night as sleepwalking was mixed with the nightmares he fought. In his nightmares, he was still at war, and our house displayed this." He paused and took a deep breath, and I could tell things were getting difficult for him so I jutted in.
"Mr. Roger, you don't have to do this. I'm not sure why you're telling me this. You don't have to, though. I don't want you to be upset."
"(Y/n), is, or is not, this Bucky you're going to see, the same James 'Bucky' Buchanan Barnes who fought alongside my brother, many others, and his best friend Steve Rogers, well known as Captain America, who was kidnapped by HYDRA and made the Winter Soldier? You're not going to lie to me, are you?"
His point blank question made my skin crawl. I could feel my hands and feet go cold, but my face turned warm. He knew I wouldn't be able to lie to him. He knew my heart could not bear it, not after everything he and Mrs. Betty had done for me, after growing so fond of them.
"Mr. Roger...I, uhh...Bucky...he isn't the same person as the Winter Soldier..."
"So he is one in the same. You know this for a fact?" His voice was stressed.
".....yes, sir." The concern in his eyes grew, so I added, "I trust Bucky, he wouldn't hurt me."
"You trust him-Bucky-not to hurt you?"
"Yes, sir." I had gotten used to having to repeat myself sometimes in Mr. Roger's presence.
"You trust Bucky. What about the Winter Soldier?"
Apparently, repetition wasn't what was needed. He was making a different point. "...Mr. Roger....it's like I said, Bucky and the Winter Soldier are two separate people."
"You have good reason not to trust the Winter Soldier. The Bucky I used to know is trustworthy...but that was before he went to war and Hydra got a hold of him."
"But Mr. Roger, he doesn't do that anymore, he's just Buc-"
"Let me finish telling you about Jimmy." He paused before continuing. "About eight months after his return and our constant battling and dealing with his symptoms, one night he beat our mother. He was inside of his dream and didn't realize who he was beating in reality. He beat her badly, (y/n), badly enough that she remained hospitalized for a month afterward. Now, if we hadn't already felt like things were bad for Jimmy before that incident, afterward it was 10 times worse. He closed in on himself completely, there was no shimmer of Jimmy's former self. He was a danger to everyone around him, and to himself, and he knew it. One day when we came back from church, we found him. I don't want to be too graphic, but he had killed himself. He left a letter explaining why he had done it. He felt he couldn't control his mind or his actions anymore. He couldn't live with what he had done to our mother. He didn't feel like he could chance something like that happening again. Now, I don't want an actual answer, because to be completely transparent, I'm afraid I already know the answer and I don't like it. Why did Barnes have to leave so quickly to go back to New York? Was it because he was Bucky, or was it because the Winter Soldier made an appearance? Even if you trust Bucky, and for good reason, he has been through a lot, an astronomical amount that neither of us will truly and completely understand. The Winter Soldier is still here," he said pointing at his head, referencing Bucky's mind. "No matter how much he fights against it, it's likely there's always a risk that Bucky will lose control and someone will get hurt, either those around him, or even himself...like Jimmy. It's obvious how much you care about him, and if you stick around him, there's a good chance you'll get hurt at some point, in some way....I don't want to see that happen, (y/n)."
"I understand where you're coming from and what you're saying, Mr. Roger, I really do...I just...he's my friend now...besides Steve, I think I'm just about the only friend he has. Doesn't he deserve that, need that, after all of this time, after all of his suffering? Doesn't he Mr. Roger?" My eyes had widened and tears had begun to form, thinking of the idea of leaving Bucky alone.
Mr. Roger pulled me in for a hug before he responded: "I know I'm not any relation, dear, but I care for you like my own daughter, both Betty and I do, and I don't want to see you get hurt. That's all. I watched my brother change into a stranger and it took a long time for all of my family to get past it. It hurt, badly, and I wouldn't have gotten through it without Betty's support and love. I don't want to see you experience that or similar pain."
I pulled out of the hug and looked at him in the eyes, all seriousness in my body transitioning into my own eyes. "Mr. Roger...I may be completely wrong...it's all still too new to know...but what if what Bucky needs is a Betty?  If it is, why shouldn't I be his Betty?"
@damnjackyyy @flibertigibbet23 @smilexcaptainx @jade-cheshire@wolfgamzee@ff-exotic12 @i-had-a-life-once@bunchofandoms@nutmeg2080@sebsugartits@angela-fangirl101@awinterloveuniverse@inkeddreamers @puezzy@haso0osah101 @mrshopkirk @heir-of-light-33@wickeddreamer21@xuaniexuan@myearthguardian@jpthrough@yurikochan @heyreadthis@gabby913@peterjackson143 @fuckoffbroseph@giggles2107 @islandpeeps@klf1999@midnightsinger @dracodormiensnunquamtitillandush@crystalrose1218@civilwarkilledme@the-renaissance @mitra-k-w@justaroundthecorn-er @omgpokelove@welcometothecity@nopevilleluas@ironicallyinspired@riskymorris@taliacorona @mmxiibalpreet @sophiewyszkowski@idiosyncratic-mortals @titaniumurie @isle-of-flightless-birdz@im-screaming-because-of-fanfics @cami25393 @sebbystanlover-vk@queenofthe-bitches  @wowthatstasty
Part One           Part Two            Part Three           Part Four
Part Five              Part Six           Part Seven          Part Eight
Part Nine           Part Ten
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