#kindaromanceifyoulookatitright

[scarlette-joel-writing]

Something New Pt. 4

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky x Reader

Request: The reader is an avid baker and is married to some pos, and bucky is a doctor (or a medical practitioner) and they end up having an affair and yeah idk how you’d want to end it but that’s a start

Warnings: Language, Emotionally (and physically) abusive relationship, talk of (rough) sex, eventual smut.

Parts:

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 

A/N I know that it has been SO freaking long since I have updated and I am hoping that this makes up for that in some sort of way. 

~

It has been 4 days since my little trip to the hospital that resulted in the awkward as fuck conversation between me and Dr. MrDreamy. The conversation that sent me on a downward spiral, wondering how the hell this man who has just entered our small, little community has figured out a secret that everyone else has looked over.

He hasn’t said anything to me about the incident since it happened, but I can still see the way that he looks at me when he orders his cherry scones every morning on his way to work. Even though he doesn’t talk to me about the head injury, he talks to me about other things. Even though I keep telling myself that I dont like this man, I don’t think that I can keep denying to myself how drop-dead gorgeous he is. Or how smart he is. Or how good of a conversationalist he is.

He apparently knows how to get me to babble life a fool whenever he is around, because babble I do. He asks me a simple question with a simple answer, and the next thing I know, we are 20 minutes into a conversation that has spiraled down the rabbit hole and he ends up almost late to work. Which is what is happening now.

“You really are that scared of clowns?” he is leaning onto the counter, both elbows down and his broad shoulders close to me. His face is about six inches from mine and I can smell the subtle hint of a cologne that sends my head swimming. I can see the way that he flexes his jaw, trying not to laugh at me, and I can also see the way that his beard is perfectly groomed and frames his face very well. My husband cant grow a beard to save his life.

“I am not kidding, I was sitting on the floor, sobbing my eyes out for a good 20 minutes,” he laughs at the statement and my automatic reaction is to reach out and smack his arm playfully. I don’t know why I think that is a good idea. There are enough inappropriate thoughts going through my head about those arms without knowing how strong and firm they actually are, but when my hand hurts more than his arm after playfully smacking him, I know that there is a problem. “Holy shit. Why is your arm like a rock?”

This is mistake number one. I am letting myself become more comfortable with him. I am letting him crawl under my skin and into my brain and I shouldn’t be. I shouldn’t be giving him the power that I am.

“Oh, you like?” he smirks at me and gives me a small wink, and I can see out of the corner of my eye that he flexes his arm just the tiniest bit, making his already snug shit just a bit tighter. It really is a sight to see. “I work out a bit. You kind of have to stay in shape when you are working in a Brooklyn hospital. Hell, you have to stay in shape just to survive in Brooklyn I feel like,”

This is mistake number two. I am flirting with the new doctor in town, openly, in the middle of my own bakery. Not that I should be flirting with any man that isn’t my husband at all, but I really shouldn’t be doing it in my own establishment. I really shouldn’t be doing it in a place where people who know me and know my husband can see.

“Show off,” I mumble and I watch as he leans in even closer to me. Our faces are so close that our noses are almost touching. He gives me a side smirk that sends my heart pumping faster and I cant help but notice that this is so wrong. This is probably the worst position that we could be in right now. I keep looking from him to the window to make sure that no one is going to come through that door. That would be disastrous.

“You haven’t even begun to see me show off, doll,” his voice drops an octave and his eyes grow serious, and a feeling that I haven’t felt in a really long-time, washes over me. A sort of buzzing rolls through me. It is like every nerve is on high alert and standing on edge, waiting for the next move. “But if you want, I can,” He leans closer and closer until it doesn’t seem like we can get any closer and his breath hits my face and sends a shiver straight down my spine.

No. No Y/N. I take a step back away from him. I let my senses lose the smell of his gorgeous cologne and I shake my head a little to wash away the goosebumps that have risen over my body. You cant do this. You cant become this girl. You have a husband and a life and it might not be the best, but it is yours. And you cant go around kissing totally fuckable guys in the middle of your own establishment. You cant fucking do it. So turn around and go to the kitchen and tell him to leave.

I turn away from him quickly and make straight for the door to the kitchen. I don’t say a word to him and I don’t look back because if I do, I will stop and I will totally kiss the most fuckable man that I have ever seen.

“Y/N,” I hear his deep voice – no. I feel his deep voice from behind me once I get into the kitchen. Thankfully Marie is at school at the moment and it is just me and James in the back of the bakery… alone. Not the best idea. I feel him grab my arm and spin me around and suddenly I am looking up at a man whose eyes have become dark. It has a commanding tone about him. That kind of look frightens me on a man. His hold on my arm doesn’t lessen and he pulls me closer to him, until we are chest to chest. I feel the panic well up inside of me.

I have been in this situation before but at least it is with a man who is a lot smaller than this man’s 6’2” status. It is with a man that would take a bit to overpower me. Not James though. With James, it would be no problem to over power me. To take what he wanted right here and not think twice about it. That is a terrifying thought. He pulls me closer to him again and I feel my anxiety swell. Do I just attract men that want to hurt me? Do I just seem like the type to be submissive to anyone?

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he breathes out and I can feel my heart stop in that moment.

“Wh-what did you say?” time stands still in that moment. He is running a hand up and down my arm, fueling the goosebumps that I already have, and he stops his action to look me dead in the eye.

“Tell me that you don’t want this, and I walk away. We never speak of it again. We go back to me buying cherry scones from you every morning and you being my patient, and nothing else happens. We forget that this whole thing happened,” he puts his hand under my chin and lifts my face up to meet his. His eyes are softer now than they were before. “But I want this,”

That feeling is back in me and thrumming a thousand times harder. He is asking me. He isn’t telling me or commanding me. He isn’t bribing me or manipulating me. He is telling me that he wants something but that if I don’t want it, he wont pursue it any further. The logical side of me tells me that every man should think like this but my past experiences tell me that that logic is not always true.

My reasoning goes completely out the door and suddenly James’ lips are on mine. My arms are snaking around his neck, pulling him closer to me while simultaneously getting to run my fingers through the hair that I have been dying to touch since I met the man.

He puts his hands on my hips and pulls my hips into his and I finally can place the feeling that is welling up inside of me. It is excitement. It is attraction. Lust. Something that I haven’t felt in a really long time. A feeling that I haven’t been able to express because no one has given a fuck about how I feel for a really long time. I can feel his attraction to me as well and it only spurs me on.

I am doing this. I am really cheating on my husband right now. I am really doing it.

James puts a hand at the nape of my neck and brushes his hands through my hair and I cant help but to moan a little bit. He pulls away from the kiss only to give me a small smirk before pulling my hair gently to get me to tilt my head back. Suddenly he is at my neck, kissing and sucking. The feeling is euphoric. I never thought that I would be able to feel pleasure from a man’s touch again, and now look at where we are.

“Don’t give me a hickey or you are dead, Dr. Barnes,” I am pretty much a puddle at this point in time. Putty in the Doctor’s hands.

“Call me bucky, babygirl,” the feel of his hot breath on my wet skin is something out of this world. The way his stubble brushes against my collar bone sends my body on edge. And the pet name? Lord have mercy, he could get me to cum by just talking like that.

“You know that this is a horrible thing that we are doing, right?” I mumble to him, running both of my hands through his hair as he continues to kiss at my neck and collar bone. He takes special care to never stay in one place too long and I can feel his hands roam over the rest of my body as his tongue continues to explore my neck and jaw.

“You wanna know why I don’t care?” he stops what he is doing and leans back away from me, one hand on the side of my face and the other one rubbing the bare skin of my side. He is giving me that smirk again that is anything but good news. “I don’t care because I know I can make you feel 1000x better than he can,” he kisses me hard and deep again and then pulls back, and like a horny little teenager, I follow his lips, silently asking for more. “And I can look 1000x better while doing it,”

“Well, at least I know that you are humble, Bucky,” the nickname is a little weird on my tongue but the way that his hand grips my waist tighter and he pulls me impossibly closer to him tells me that he rather quite likes the name. His face comes to hover over mine, his lips centimeters from me.

I want him to kiss me again. I want it so badly. I want it more than I have wanted anything for the past three years. You would think that I haven’t had sex in years with the way that my chest rises and falls rapidly and the undeniable twist in my stomach begins. But honestly, Andrew and I had had sex only mere hours after I had gotten home from the hospital.

“Tell me something,” he leans back and I want to pout, but I am too wrapped up in the moment. I just need him to keep touching me. I need him to kiss me and to make me forget myself and my life and the problems that I have. How can this man do this to me?

“What do you wanna know?” I close my eyes and lean my head back, letting the emotions flood my veins. I revel in the feelings. I revel in the fact that my body can still feel this way? I had thought that the possibility for these thoughts and feelings had gone away long ago.

“You are 22, right?” he is gently kissing my jaw again and I just nod my head at the question. I don’t know old this man is, but I know that he is older than me by at least a few years. He breathes against my neck again. “Why did you get married so young?” I open my eyes to look straight at him and I can see that the question is being asked by a serious man who wants a serious answer. So much for making me forget about my life.

“Really, youre gonna ask me that now? When you have me pressed up against the counter in the back of my bakery, kissing and touching all over me?” he takes his hands off of me and steps away and I can feel the screaming in my stomach. I sigh. The man basically tells me he wants to fuck me and then he wants to know my whole life story. ”I don’t know why I thought to get married at such a young age. I think it was cause my grandparents got married when they were 19 and they were happy their whole lives. They were the epitome of love and I think that I naïve little me just wanted something like that. Happy?” he gives me a level stare and I begin to tap my fingers impatiently.

“So… I was right, wasn’t I?” he speaks again and I can feel the irritation growing within me. I grab his hands with my own and yank him towards me, putting his hands on my hips and making it so that his face is so close to mine again.

“Can you please just shut the fuck up and kiss me, again? We can talk about this shit later if that is really want you want. But right now? I am a bit needy and I am an impatient person,” he pulls his hand up from my hip to run through my hair and then pulls me to him again.

“Yes ma’am,” is all he says and then he is kissing me again.

I could get used to this real quick.

Taglist: nerdyandproud9 georgiiamat dlcute Sexysamsungl Mia-at-work axelinchen Notyourtypicalrose D34d-0n-th3-1ns1d3 nolaimagines Skeletoresinthebasement nolaimagines dragonselene youreahandsomedevil humanexile jjamesbbarness buckyandbruce cobra-anon 

[scarlette-joel-writing]

Something New Pt. 2

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky x Reader 

Request:  The reader is an avid baker and is married to some pos, and bucky is a doctor (or a medical practitioner) and they end up having an affair and yeah idk how you’d want to end it but that’s a start

Warnings: Language, Emotionally (and physically) abusive relationship, talk of (rough) sex, eventual smut.

Word Count: 1.89k

Part 1  Part 2

~

Everybody has that one thing that they are known for. That one thing that makes them shine and stand out in a crowd. For some people it is their ability to sing. Or their ability to learn languages. Maybe it is their drawing and painting skills that sets them apart from the rest. Or it can be something as simple as their smile that sets that makes them who they are.

My thing? My thing is baking.

It has been a passion of mine since I was a young girl. I learned from my mother who learned from her mother and so on and so forth. A tradition that has been passed down the line as song as my family can remember and it is a tradition that I am proud to be a part of. I love to create and make new things whenever I can. I use the old recipes that have been handed down for generations, but I am also creating new things each and every day. Trying to figure out what combinations work well together and what doesn’t.

My grandmother opened a bakery with her husband when she was pregnant with my mother back in 1969. The goal was that my grandma Rosy would run the shop until my mother was old enough and then pass it onto my mom.

That didn’t happen. In 1988, my mom left for college, wanting to pursue a career as a lawyer. 4 years into her schooling, mom became pregnant with my sister. But that didn’t stop her. Her and dad picked up jobs and made things work. They worked even harder. 4 years later she came back to our big, rich town in upstate New York. She was officially a lawyer, was engaged to the man that is now known as my father, and she was 7 and a half months pregnant with me.

Mom had decided that being a lawyer was where her heart was, and not in a bakery. But she never forgot the recipes and she never stopped taking every chance she could to teach us how to bake. My sister Viv wasn’t as into the whole cooking and baking thing, but it was alright because I was enthusiastic about it enough for the both of us.

I was going to head to college when I was 18, to study what? I don’t know, but then my grandma Rosy got sick. She was 68 years old. My grandpa had died when I was a baby and that meant that there was no one to look after the shop when grandma got sick. Vivian was off in college and mom and dad were running a law firm that was growing more popular by the client. There was no one.

So I did what I knew needed to be done to keep the dream that my grandmother had alive. I said no to going to college and I stayed behind to run the shop. I was an 18-year-old girl who had no idea what she was doing or how to run a shop, but I knew that I was doing the right thing.

My grandmother died right before my wedding when I was 19. She was a strong woman but the Cancer was stronger.

“Mrs. Pierson, we have a bit of a problem,” the voice of my 16-year-old part time shop assistant Marie pulls me back to the real world. The real world in which I am standing at the counter of a bake shop, staring off into the distance like some sort of crazy person.

“Yes, sweetheart. What is it?” I thank the lord that the shop is pretty slow right now and lean away from the counter. When I look back at the young girl, she is covered in a nice neon blue shade of icing. The look on her face is pure horror.

“It’s the stand mixer again,” I cant help but laugh a bit as I head towards the back where the kitchen is ready and waiting for me. There are little specks of blue icing everywhere and I can hear the steady roar of the mixer that is older than dirt.

“Yea, she is really temperamental. You have to make sure that you turn the dial really slowly when trying to increase her speed. Otherwise, she gets all weird and freaks out on ya,” I try to avoid being hit by the neon blue icing as I make my way across the kitchen. Marie is behind me and both of us look like we are attempting to calm a wild horse. Crouched low and moving slowly so we don’t frighten the poor beast.

Apparently that tactic doesn’t work. Just as I am about to get to the dial to turn the thing off, it increases its speed tenfold, and suddenly my face and shirt are absolutely covered in neon blue icing. And of course, this was the day I decided that I was going to look classy and wear a black blouse. I go reaching for the dial blindly, considering that there is now blue icing in my eyes, and instead of hitting the stand mixer, I accidently move to the left and hit the bowl of flour that Marie had been using to make the cupcakes.

“Go pull the plug for the mixer!” I yell out and not 20 seconds later, I hear the beautiful silence fall over the kitchen. I stand up and rub the icing out of my eyes and when I Look at the kitchen, I am mortified. There is blue icing and flour everywhere and most of it is on me. I turn around to Marie and as soon as she sees me, she begins to laugh.

Her laughing causes me to laugh and suddenly we are standing in the middle of the kitchen. Laughing our asses off because we both have blue icing and flour all over us.

“Well, at least now we actually look like we belong in a bakery,” she smiles at me again and I laugh as I wave her off to go get cleaned up as much as she can. She takes her leave and heads upstairs to the little apartment/break room that we have up there, as I begin to clean up the mess.

And then I hear the bell from the front door. Shit.

“Hello? Anyone here?” I contemplate just not going out there and hoping that the man, because it is clearly a man with that voice, will just go away. But then I realize that that is a customer and I need the money. So, I take a second to compose myself, and step out to the front of the shop, covered in flour and icing.

And I am met with the most beautiful man that I have ever seen in my life. Hands down, no doubt about it. A strong jawline and just the right amount of scruff to look absolutely amazing without actually feeling like it is unkept. He is tall, much taller than I am, and he has a very serious look about him. He holds himself well and the way that he saunters around the shop shows everyone who sees him that he knows what he has and he knows that youre looking at him. He looks like the kind of man that doesn’t smile all of the time. He is wearing a navy-blue button up shirt that leaves nothing to the imagination about the muscles that he is sporting underneath that shirt. Black slacks, a black belt, and black dress shoes to finish the ensemble. He is a man with some power behind him. No doubt about it.

“How can I help you?” my voice startles him and when he looks at me, I seem to catch him off guard for a moment. That is understandable considering I look like I just killed Casper the friendly ghost and his little buddy Smurf. He takes a second longer to stare at me and then his face cracks into a wide smile.

I guess I was wrong about the whole smiling thing.

“Well hello to you too,” he laughs, which is the most gorgeous thing that I have ever heard, and then I watch at he lifts his left hand to run his fingers through his hair. I catch a glimpse of the metal and that is when I notice that his entire left hand is metal and not flesh. He seems to notice my staring. “Oh yea, forgot I was in a place where people aren’t used to my metal arm,” he chuckles a bit and I can feel the wave of embarrassment roll over me.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to stare,” I am stumbling over my words and my panic seems to make him laugh harder.

“No, its okay. Really. I had an accident when I was younger and I was lucky enough to find some people who made this metal arm for me,” he unbuttons the sleeve of his shirt and rolls it up to his elbow, and I can see the metal glistening under the light. It is magnificent. “It was actually the reason that I became a doctor,” he says it so nonchalantly.

“Doctor?” this man needs to stop talking. Every word he says just makes him more beautiful.

“Where are my manners? I am Dr. James Buchanan Barnes. Most people call me Dr. Barnes, but you can call me Bucky,” he reaches his hand out and I quickly wipe my flour covered hand on my jeans before I shake his hand.

“I am Y/N Pearson. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am guessing that you are new to town?” he nods his head and when I ask him what I can get for him, he tells me that he heard from a nurse down at the hospital that this was the place to get the best scones in town. I blush at the statement. “They are a homemade recipe. Been in the family for 100 plus years,” I grab two scones for him and place them in a bag, heading back over to the register.

“I am the new surgeon at the hospital. I am also kinda working as a resident doctor there, treating patients when need be,” I ring him up and he hands over the money, a smirk plastered on his face the entire time.

“Well you chose the perfect place to become a surgeon Dr. Barnes. All these rich old ladies will spend their fortunes to stay alive,” he laughs at the statement and takes the bag with the cherry scones in it. I notice that he glances at my wedding ring when he takes the bag from me.

“I hope to see you around sometime, Y/N,” he gives me another one of those signature smirks, and then turns to leave. I don’t get to say another word before he is out the door and I am standing alone, still covered in flour and icing.

I just talked to the most gorgeous man in the world while I was covered in fucking icing and flour. Awesome.

Marie comes back downstairs looking much cleaner than before and asks me if anything interesting happened while she was away.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Taglist:  nerdyandproud9 georgiiamat dlcute  @geeksareunique @pvnk-bivch  @m4df4n

[scarlette-joel-writing]

Erased Pt. 10

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Warnings: Torture. 

A/N: It is totally reasonable that you guys probably hate me. It has been forever since I updated Hopefully this makes up for it a little bit. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8  Part 9 Part 10  Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

~

I am in pain.

And not the “I went a little hard during training yesterday and I am really feeling it today” kind of pain.

No. This is the “I have been tied down to a metal slab for god knows how fucking long, and I have people constantly cutting me and burning me and pushing my bones to the point of breaking,” kind of pain. This is the “I kind of wish that they would just kill me already,” kind of pain. This is the “I can’t believe that my body hasn’t given out yet,” kind of pain. That is the type of life that I am living right now. This is the “I wish I could just tell them what they want they know so that the pain can end” kind of pain.

But I know that I cannot do that. I cannot tell them what they want because that would mean that I would have to tell him about Bucky and that will never happen. It will never happen. I would rather let myself die than to give them the information that is needed to make Bucky the crazy super soldier that they want him to be. It is a life that I don’t want him to live and I will do anything to protect him from that. Anything. Even if it means dying. I have to protect him.

The machine that he has attached to my head keeps the jolts of electricity bursting through me every few seconds though my body has gotten used to the little jolts of pain. They remind me that I can still feel things. That I haven’t become completely numb to his tactics. I don’t know what would happen if I did.

“Good Morning Miss!” he says as he enters the room and I can feel my entire body stiffen at the sound. This is the boss man. The man that came in and told me that he was going to torture me until I told him exactly what he wanted to know. We haven’t spoken much since I got here, but maybe that is because he keeps shoving knives into me. I don’t know, just maybe. “Are we going to talk today?” he says as he leans over me.

I have noticed in my time here, however long that has been, that this man is not from this time. He talks like he is from a different century and the way he holds himself is the same way that I see Bucky and Cap hold themselves: like they were pulled out of time and don’t know how to act in this new era.

I have also learned that Dr. Orlov is a Russian scientist/doctor and has extensive knowledge of the human body. Especially all of its weak points. I have gained that knowledge through person experience. He seems to enjoy cutting me open.

“Look at you. So beautiful,” he laughs and I feel him swipe a finger over my cheek, causing it to sting from the multiple bruises and cuts that rest of my face already. I want to spit at him. I know I look like shit. I haven’t showered in forever, there is dried blood all over me, and bruises are my new foundation color. Some are yellow, some are brown, and the newer ones are a dark dark purple that hurt like a bitch every time that he touches me. More like punches me.

“I am not going to tell you what you want to know, so fuck off,” this time I do spit at him but he quickly dodges it and laughs at me. A deep and booming laugh that sends a shiver up my spine. But not in the good way. Definitely not in the good way.

“Y’know, you are a lot more stubborn than the woman in my days,” he smiles at me and steps away from me and to the other side of the room where his table of toys is waiting. I try to pull at the restraints, once again, and once again there is no way that I am going to escape from them. They are stainless steel and bolted to the concrete floor.

My mind is strong. My body is not.

“I don’t care about your stupid monologue,” I sneer back at him and I watch a he picks up a knife that is easily bigger than my forearm and turns back around to face me. The fear shoots through my body and I don’t even want to think about what he is going to do with that knife.

“Really? But don’t you wanna know who I am? Where I came from? How I know about your precious James Barnes?” the way he says Bucky’s name is a direct taunt to me and it makes me struggle against the restraints again.

“Fuck you!”

“A little touchy now aren’t we? Did I hit a soft spot?” and at the same time he says that, he slips the knife into the soft part of my flesh at the bottom of my stomach. I scream out in pain and he just digs the knife in a little farther before he pulls it out and a rush of relief floods through me before the searing pain sinks in.

“Fuck you,” is all I can say back to him and he smiles again. Digs the knife in again. Pulls it back out slowly.

“Let’s tell you the story anyway. The story of a young doctor working for the Russians. They had brought in this boy from the mountains. Badly bleeding. His arm was mangled and had to be amputated immediately,” I let the tears roll down my body as he looks over the blood covered knife then stares back at me. “We were thinking about letting him die but we obviously found a much more suitable position for our Mr. Barnes. I wasn’t the lead doctor on the project but I was the one that they decided to put under to make sure that everything went well with our asset in the future,” his words cause me to pause and to look at him. He has a smug smile on his face that tells me that he is enjoying this interaction very much.

“Put under?” I stammer out, and I watch his eyes alight with a flame before he wipes the blood from my stomach on my dirty and torn t-shirt and sets it back down in its initial resting spot.

“Surely you know what put under means. Barnes went through it as well as Mr. America. Though, Rodgers wasn’t intentional like Mr. Barnes was,” he picks up a pair of pliers that have already caused me enough pain and fidgets with them a bit before coming back over to stand above me. “I guess timelines got a little messed up because they pulled Barnes out a lot faster than they did me,” he grabs one of my fingers within the pliers and begins to add light pressure to it with every few seconds that passes. “You can imagine my surprise when I wake up to find out that no in this era knows anything about the asset that I had helped to create,” more pressure and more pain.

That’s how he remembers Bucky. Because he wasn’t technically alive when I went in and erased everyone’s memories,

“But that doesn’t explain how you knew about-“ I cut myself off with an ear piercing scream that comes out of me when he closes the pliers all of the way and I can feel the bones in my fingers being crushed. The pain radiates throughout my whole body and it send black spots into my vision.

“How I knew about what? About you? Well, you Avengers aren’t the only ones that have powers in the world. One of my men, a true genius, has a photographic memory. And he distinctly remembers a girl that looks just like you prancing around his memory. He cant remember what you took from him, the knowledge that he had, but I guess you forgot to erase yourself from his memory before you left,” he moves onto the next finger and repeats the same torturous action with my left middle finger. I scream again as he shatters the finger and he laughs. “You gonna talk now?”

“Never,” I mumble, taking deep breaths to try and calm my heart down. The electricity is still running through my head and the tears that are streaming down my face blur my vision. I can only see the basic outline of the man that is slowly killing me.

“You do know that I am not opposed to breaking every bone in your body to get what I want, right?” he moves onto my ring finger and puts my finger between the pliers.

“Fuck you,” I spit at him again and this time, my blood colored saliva hits him directly in the face. I can feel myself smile a bloody smile that hurts like a bitch.

And that is when the pliers slam shut and the searing pain floods through me and I finally go black.

~

Bucky’s POV:

“What if this has nothing to do with the enemies of Shield and the Avengers? What if it is more specific than that?” Bruce says as we are sitting back in the conference room for the umpteenth time in the past 2 and a half weeks. 2 and a half weeks od Y/N being gone and none of us are any closer to finding her. For all any of us know, she could be dead already.

“what do you mean?” Cap sits forward a little bit and I can see that he looks just as tired as everyone else does in this situation. People working as much as they can to bring Y/N back.

“Well, think about it? What does someone want with Y/N? She isn’t a true part of the Avengers. Has never been out on a proper mission with the team. Her whole job was to take care of Bucky. To bring him back from that state And then it just so happens that she gains someone’s attention after she has pulled all memories of Bucky from everyone? That doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me,”

“But no one on the planet remembers Bucky. It would have different if they had come after her before she took all of their memories away. Unless someone from Bucky’s past suddenly arose from the dead, I don’t think that it has anything to do with him,” Romanoff gives me a sympathetic smile that I don’t return. Everyone knows that I am not handling this well.

Suddenly an idea pops into my head and I sit up in the chair. Everyone suddenly stops talking and all eyes turn to me.

“What if they didn’t arise from the dead? What if they dethawed?” I am searching through all of my memories. Who was that man that they put me under with? Their was a little doctor that said that he would be more than happy to wake up in the future and make sure that everything worked out fine..

I pull myself through all of my old memories. And then I get his head stuck in my head.

Dr. Orlov.

Nice to see you again.

Taglist: 

@jacks-on-krack @tbetz0341 @haleypearce @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @zestygingergirl @jemjem-chan @rachelmc97 @fesslasuisse @vvonder-lands @ran-randomness  @zohoffman  @geeksareunique  @m4df4n

[scarlette-joel-writing]

Erased Pt. 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Requested by: Me. 

Warnings: Yall already know. 

A/N I think im just gonna give up with telling you how long this thing is gonna be. It will be done when I think its ready to be done LOL 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5  Part 6  Part 7 Part 8  Part 9 Part 10  Part 11  Part 12 Part 13

~

The mind is a complex and vast place.

Filled to the brim with all of the conscious and subconscious things that you remember or know. Every fact that you have ever learned, every word that you have ever spoken, every memory that you have ever had is stored within your head. Memories that you don’t believe you have or believe that you might have forgotten are there as well. Every single moment of a person’s life Is stored within their mind.

It is just a matter of retrieving the information that you want. It’s a matter of sifting through the data to find what you need.

Let’s see if I can put it into simpler terms. The mind is like a huge, never-ending warehouse that is filled to the brim with rows upon rows of filing cabinets. And in these filing cabinets is every action you have ever done. Every word that you have ever spoken. Every date you have been on and every test that you have ever taken. All of these memories and moments of your life are stored in your head.

And all of your conscious knowledge. All of the facts that you know and the words that you can speak. All of the memories that you can recall. Those are all located in the 10% of the brain that humans can actually use. Everything you know is located in 10%. Just imagine what things are hiding in the other 90% in your subconscious.

And there is no organization to these memories. Every person is different and that means that every person’s mind is different. In some places it is well lit and clean and stable. And in other cases there are no lights and there are spiders and cobwebs everywhere. Some might have their brain organized chronologically or by the importance of the memory. Other might have the happy memories first or vice versa.

And in my case at the moment, my mind is black. Everything is black and I cant see or hear or feel anything. But I am acutely aware that I am still in my own head. I am aware that I am thinking but there is nothing to think of.

Where my brain differs from other peoples is in the fact that I can use all 100% of my brain. Kind of like that movie that came out a while ago with the woman who looked a lot like Natasha Romanoff, but not exactly. I don’t see strings of numbers like her. But because I can use all of my brain, I know everything that has ever happened in my life. Every word I have ever read. Every answer to every test that I have ever taken. I can remember names of thousands upon thousands of people, and I can see not only my memories but the memories that I have taken from other people.

Like right now. If I was a normal person and I had passed out, I would be dreaming. Or everything would just be black and I wouldn’t even know that I was passed out, but because I am who I am, I can still sense the outside world and I can still sense that I am somewhere different from where I usually am. Usually I like the quiet and the peace, but not when I cant control it. Not when I cant turn it off and go back to reality.

When I am not in control, things start to get a little shaky.

I close my mind’s eye for a second before I allow myself to “sit down” on the floor of my dark mind and cross my legs. If I cant help the situation that I am in. If I cant fight my way out of it, then I might as well take this moment to do a bit of meditating. Try to find some good out of all of the shit that has happened.

I am sitting there for almost 2 days, TWO FREAKING DAYS, when I can feel my outside body begin to stir. See, sometimes there isn’t really a connection between my body and my brain. I have a really strong mind that I can do a lot with but I have a really weak body that really doesn’t want to follow any rules that I give it. My brain gets hurt? It bounces straight back. My body takes a beating from a genetically enhanced super soldier that was trying to kill me? Suddenly it doesn’t want to function correctly. I don’t get it.

“Fuck,” is the first thing out of my mouth as I open my eyes to the bright eyes overhead. I can feel the pain radiating throughout my body and the way that my muscles twitch every few seconds from the complete and utter beating that they took almost 46 hours ago. I don’t even attempt to move. I just stay where I am and hope that it all goes away

“Y/N” someone says and when I open my eyes again and look down, I can just see that everyone in the complex is staring at me. Looking at me like I am a lost puppy. Cap, Sam, and Vision are on one side of me, Tony and Clint in front of me and Natasha, Wanda, and Bruce on the other side of me. I am down in Med bay, laying in a bed and it makes me wanna laugh. Looks like the roles have reversed.

“Hello,” I say as I take a deep breath, immediately regretting that decision because my lungs feel like a dagger went through them.

“Thought we had lost you there for a second. You have been out almost 2 days,” Sam says to me as he hands me a cup of water. Natasha pushes a button on the side of the bed to put me in a sitting position, an action that does nothing but cause me to writhe in pain, and then I take a sip of water. It feels like a glacier running down my throat and I love it.

“Oh trust me, I know exactly how long I was out,” I take another look around the room and I see that I completely skipped over the fact that someone isn’t present at my little “youre alive” party. “Where is Barnes? Still recovering from the beating I gave him?” I laugh. But I seem to be the only one. Suddenly no one will look at me. Suddenly the floor has become the most interesting thing in the world. “Guys. Where is Bucky?”

“He hasn’t left his room since you passed out, Y/N,” Cap says and I just give him a look that tells him that I am utterly confused.

“Yes, the boy seems to think that locking himself in a room and refusing meals is going to make you better,” comes Tony’s response. “Oh, and next time you decide you want to bleed all over a carpet, can you make sure that it is not my very expensive carpet? Thank you,” Tony takes a step forward, puts his hand on my leg and then gives me a wink. “But I am glad that you are okay,” and then he is gone.

Ah Tony. Always the closeted sap.

“Someone help me up. I need to go talk to bucky,” I am pulling out IV’s and tubes, trying to move the blankets.

“You are not going anywhere Y/N,” Cap says as he comes over and puts a hand on my shoulder. “You just woke up from a two day coma. Bucky can wait a bit,”

“I wasn’t asking, Captain,” I say as I shake his arm off of me.

“And neither was I. It was an order,”

“Then I guess it is a good thing that I am not really a part of your team, now isn’t it?” And with that, I pull myself up off the bed and take a few shaky steps to the elevator. My body doesn’t want to cooperate with me but I have to tell Bucky that this isn’t his fault. I hit the button and the elevator opens and then closes behind me a few seconds later. “Floor 27,” I say as we descend.

Walking is hard. And walking with bruises and cuts all over your body after not having moved for two days is even harder. I can feel the way that my shoulders sag and I hate it. I hate feeling weak. I hate feeling like I cant do anything. Even though my brain is running at top speed right now.

I get off the elevator and into the living room of Bucky’s apartment. It is clean and nice and empty. I make my way to his bedroom door, which I know is his because every floor has the same layout, and I knock.

“Go away, Steve. I am not in the mood,” I can hear his voice come from the other side and it sends a shiver down my spine. So small. So weak. So broken. All of those feelings and emotions flood through me as I stand there on the other side of the door. I have never heard him like that before. Never heard him sound so distraught. Could that really be because of me?

I knock again.

“Go away, Steve.” He doesn’t yell and he doesn’t seem angry. He just seems sad. So much sadness.

“Well, I am not Steve,” I say and then I can hear the flying of feet and the unlocking of the door before I am brought face to face with James Buchanan Barnes himself. Staring down at me with wide eyes. “And I am not going away. I am pretty hard to get rid of,”

“Oh my god, Y/N,” he whispers and then he wraps his flesh arm around my waist and pulls me to his chest. It knocks the wind out of me a bit but I let my shock overtake the pain at the fact that I am stood here, hugging Bucky Barnes. I can feel Bucky’s head nestle into the crook of my neck and it makes my heart begin to beat faster. “Oh my god, I am so sorry. I am so so so sorry. I cant believe that I did that to you. I cant believe that you almost died because of me. I am so sorry,” he keeps repeating over and over again. I just wrap my arms around his neck and rub small circles on his back.

“It isn’t your fault, Bucky. Im not mad at you, and I didnt come up here to get mad at you. I came to make sure that you were alright. The guys tell me that you haven’t been eating,” I pull him back from the hug to see the dark dark circles under his eyes. “And apparently you haven’t been sleeping well either,” he scoffs.

“How could I sleep knowing that you might not have woken up from me beating you?!” I just grab his hand and pull him back into the bedroom. Over to the bed. And then I make him sit. I go around to the other side of the bed and sit as well because my everything hurts and I am tired. “I did this to you,”

“No. Hydra did this to me. And tomorrow we will talk about a more permanent solution to the problem of you going all super soldier on us. But for tonight, I would really like to sleep,” I pat the bed next to me, and he hesitantly lays down. He keeps his distance, not that I mind too much because I don’t think that I am fully recovered from that hug earlier, but I look over at him and smile. “Ill make the memories go away,” I whisper to him with a soft smile and he looks at me with wide eyes.

“No, Y/N-“ he begins.

“I will make them go away for tonight. Just for tonight. No nightmares. No dreams. No any of that. Just a well-deserved rest that both of us need. Okay?” I look back at him with raised eyes and he nods his head and lays back against the pillow.

“Alright,” he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and I do the same. I let my mind open to allow his thoughts in and he can seem to sense my presence because all thoughts go quiet. Not that I mind too much. I just myself drift off to sleep where there is nothing but blackness.

And the warmth of a body less than 2 feet away from me.

Taglist: 

@jacks-on-krack @tbetz0341 @haleypearce @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @zestygingergirl

[scarlette-joel-writing]

Erased Pt. 7

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Requested by: Me

Warnings: Langu- you already know.

A/N This is not the end! I know it is going to seem like the end, and if you are content with this ending, you dont have to read further, But I repeat. Not the end. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7  Part 8  Part 9 Part 10  Part 11

~

Bucky’s POV (yea bitches. We are doin it)

I have never been the type of person that could sit around and do nothing. That could sit back and wait for something to be finished. I don’t like feeling helpless and I don’t like being able to do nothing in a situation. It makes me all anxious and weird. I would much rather be doing something that is beneficial to the problem at hand.

But that type of philosophy doesn’t really work in this situation. Especially since everything that is going on is within Y/N’s mind and I definitely do not have the powers that she has. So I am just sitting here, on her bed, holding her hands and waiting for her to wake up.

It has been almost three hours since she went under, and I cant help but wondering if that is normal. She had said that she would need a few hours, but she has never done something this big before. She has never had to take out this many memories. Maybe she underestimated the time she needed.

She actually looks quite peaceful here. Her hair is all sprawled out against her pillows and her one arm is crossed over her stomach while the other one is holding mine. Her face looks peaceful and the only sign that she isn’t actually asleep is the fact that her eyes dart back and forth under her eyelids every once in a while. But apart from that, her body remains completely still.

Doctor Strange has been closely monitoring her vitals from the other side of the bed. Getting up about every 10 minutes to make sure that nothing has changes and that the cooling serum is still working. He had explained the basic premise of the different machines to me and had also explained all of the ways that they could go wrong very quickly if they weren’t closely monitored. I hadn’t cared much for that part of the conversation.

How could she have done this? How could she have risked so much just to save my mind? It would have been easier to just put me under and tried to wait Hydra out. Maybe in 60 or 70 years the organization would fall and then I could be brought back safely then. She didn’t have to go through all of this. Didn’t have to be hooked up to all of these machines, digging around in the memories of 7 billion people just to save me. I am not worth that much.

I pull myself out of my own thoughts and allow myself to look around at her room. She was right. Mine does look dull and boring in comparison to hers. She has a wall of bookshelves on one side, filled to the brim with books of all genres. Her walls are painted navy blue and the room is pretty dark. Some white Christmas lights hung up to give the room a soft glow and a wax warmer that makes the room smell of cherries. But what draws my attention the most is all of the pictures that she has hanging up in her room.

Another wall of her room is dedicated solely to framed pictures that have been hung there. Big pictures and small pictures. Black and white pictures and color pictures. Pictures of her and her friends. Pictures of her when she was younger. Pictures of places that she has gone and things that she has done. There are so many different things. I look through all of them and then my eyes come to rest on one in particular. It is at the very top of the wall and it seems to be new. I squint my eyes to look at it only to realize that it is a picture of me.

Me.

It was at one of the parties that Tony threw a couple months back. Tony had forced me to wear this all black suit that he had gotten tailored for me and so I did. Halfway through the night though I had gotten hot and taken off the jacket and rolled up my sleeves to my elbow. This is what the picture is. It is me standing in front of the bar with my flesh harm holding my jacket over my shoulder while my metal arm is resting in my pocket. At the time, it had seemed like a very normal position, but looking at the picture now, it looks like I was posing for the cover of a magazine.

Why did she take a picture of me? And more importantly why did she hang it on the wall?

“Bucky,” Steve pokes his head into the door of Y/N room and smiles at me, “can you come out here for a minute? We are talking about a new mission coming up and we need your input,” Cap looks down at the bed at Y/N and lets his tough guy demeanor fall for only a split second before he is back into business mode.

Steve had seen a lot of people die in the war. A lot of people with loved ones that never got to come home. And even after the war is over he has still seen a lot of death and destruction. Steve has kind of taken on the idea that things happen and people die but you have to keep moving to make sure that the world gets better. It is an idea that I haven’t fully adopted from him yet.

“I will be right out there,” he nods his head and steps away from the door. I look back down to Y/N to see the fact that she is still. I don’t want her to leave her, but I know that she is in the good hands of the doctor. She will be okay. Soon this will all be over and everything will be okay. At least this part of our lives will be okay.

I slowly slip my hand from hers and stand up from the bed. I check to make sure that everything is fine and that she doesn’t move, and after 30 seconds, I turn and walk away from the room as well. Everyone is situated in Y/N’s living room and they all turn to look at me.

“How is she?” Natasha asks and I can tell that it is the same question that everyone wants to know the answer to.

“She is doing good. Strange says that she is using up a lot of energy but she is staying hydrated and her vitals and body temperature are remaining stable so, she is good,” every one sighs and I have to give a small smile. These people really do care about her.

I know that Y/N wants to believe that they all just treat her like a child for the hell of it, but that really isn’t the case at all. They are just trying to protect her. She is the person on this team with the strongest abilities and it is a priority to keep her safe above all else.

“So, lets get started,” Cap says and I take a seat in the chair on the other side of the table to begin work. But my heart and head isn’t in it. They are still sitting back in Y/N’s room, holding her hand and making sure that I am there when she wakes up.

~

The high-pitched scream that rattles the glass windows comes about an hour and a half later. When all of us have finally gotten super comfortable and are going over the small details of the sting operation taking place in the middle of Afghanistan next week.

Everything goes dead silent for one small second before every single person is on their feet and rushing towards Y/N’s room, where the scream originated from.

Oh god. Something happened. Something happened and she is dying and it is all my fucking fault because I was the one that she was trying to fucking protect and god fucking dammit.

I push my way through the rest of the group until I am standing in the middle of the room, looking at an empty bed. Where the hell did she go? I look to Doctor Strange with wide eyes but he is giving me the same exact expression back. He just shakes his head slightly and points to the bathroom door on the other side of the room.

“Y/N?” I say as I take a step towards the bathroom door. No one else in the group dares to speak a word and no one dares to take a step forward. “Y/N, doll, are you okay?” there is no noise coming from the other side of the door and when I turn the handle, I can feel that it is unlocked. “Y/N, I am gonna come in, okay? I don’t want you to freak out. It is just me,” and then I open the door.

And the sight horrifies me. Y/N is sitting in the corner of the bathroom with her arms wrapped around her knees and rocking back and forth slowly. Her head is buried in her knees and I can see the way that her back rises and falls rapidly with each shaky breath that rings through the bathroom. I quickly block her from the others and close the door behind me as I enter the bathroom. “Y/N.”

“So many memories Bucky,” she lifts her head and I can see the look of fear that she has on her face. The look of a person that has seen everything. “So many thoughts. Everyone talking at once. Everybody talking about everything. No quiet. No silence. So many horrible things and horrible people and horrible memories all locked away in their heads. So many,” she is rambling and I throw all thought to the wind as I run over and scoop her up into my arms. Her arms snake their way around my neck to hold me in a tight grip. Not that I mind at all. This is the girl that risked her sanity to save mine.

“Oh, doll. I am so sorry. I am sorry that you went through that. But you are back now. You are safe. You can shut off the voices now. You don’t have to hear them anymore. It can be silent for as long as you like,” her face nuzzles into my neck and I let the feeling of having her in my arms encompass me. Her breathing slows and when she looks back at me, her eyes are rimmed red with unshed tears.

“The things that those people thought. The memories that they have of you. All strapped to a chair, electricity coursing through your veins to make you forget the person that you were and the things that you knew. The things they made you do. The experiments,” a sob catches in her throat at the thought of what they did and I just wrap my arm around her waist tighter and pull her closer to me once more. “They all had to erased,” her voice wavers and I want so badly to do something to make the sadness go away.

“You didn’t have to do that, doll. You could have just erased the code,” now she has all of those horrible memories in her head. Memories of me that I never wanted her to see. Memories of me as a person that I don’t even really remember.

“No. Now no Hydra member or any other person on this planet knows who the winter soldier is. Now no one on this planet besides you, me, and the team know that you exist or that the code ever existed. And you and I are the only 2 people on the planet that know that code,” she sets her face into a determined line and looks straight at me. “Now you are safe,”

I cant help myself. I lean in and capture her lips with mine quickly. It is a split second decision but I have to admit that it is the best decision that I could have made. Her lips are soft and sweet and when she kisses me back, I can feel my knees go weak underneath me.

Her hands come up to play with my hair and I can feel myself groan into the kiss as I try and pull her impossibly closer to me. We are all tongues and teeth as both me and her try and pour all of our emotions into a kiss. Her hands are moving down to rest on my chest and I am holding onto her hips to make sure that every centimeter between us is gone.

I never knew a kiss could feel like this. Could be so fiery and passionate and send shivers through my spine but still have so much emotion behind it. Still have something real. We stand like that for a few minutes, wrapped up in each other and never wanting to let go, before she finally pulls her face away from mine to breath. I will admit that as soon as her lips are gone, I want them back.

“Please tell me that that wasn’t a one time thing,” she breathes out and I can see the light slowly return back to her eyes. I can see the old Y/N coming back to me. She seems just as confused about what happened but the smile on her face tells me she liked it just as much as I did.

“I hope it wasn’t a one time thing. Because that was phenomenal,” I say and she laughs before she leans back in to give me a slow and lingering kiss that ignites my soul (cliché as hell, I know)

“I should save you more often,”

Taglist:

@jacks-on-krack @tbetz0341 @haleypearce @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @zestygingergirl @geeksareunique @jemjem-chan @rachelmc97

[scarlette-joel-writing]

Erased Pt. 9

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader 

Warnings: things get a bit gruesome, not too bad though. Language. 

A/N I know . Ihave taken forever to update. Im sorry about that. I promise that I will be better

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10  Part 11  Part 12 Part 13

~

Y/N’s POV:

It is dark and it is cold and it is loud.

It is dark. I cannot see an inch in front of my face. I cannot see any light coming from any place and I have no idea what the room I am in looks like. I don’t even know if I am in a room. I could be in a cardboard box for all I know. Stored on a shelf somewhere, waiting to be shipped off to China. I haven’t moved from this spot since I woke up because I am not sure that I want to know what my surroundings consist of.

It is cold. I am so cold that my teeth chatter and my skin has permanent goosebumps on them. Yea that is what I mean by it is freaking cold. There is a breeze that is as cold as the Arctic Circle that hits me every couple of minutes and I cannot, for the life of me, figure out where the hell it is coming from. I guess the fact that there is a breeze is some indication that I am not in a card board box, so I can add that to the very short list of things that I know.

It is loud. There is a loud pounding in my ears that causes my entire body to shake as I am sitting on the ground. It is Similar to the sound that I heard when the guy came into the complex to take me, but this sound is much louder than that one. And it isn’t just one steady note. It is high frequencies and low frequencies that mix together and cause my brain to feel like it is turning to mush. It paralyzes my muscles and makes me want to puke. Thankfully, I have been able to stop myself from doing that so far.

I don’t know how long I have been here and I really have no way of figuring it out. My internal clock is fucked because of the noise and my external clock is fucked because of the lack of sun. If I had to take I guess, I would say that I have been awake for about 12 hours but I have no idea how long I was out before then. It could have been 2 hours or two weeks for all I know.

I have to do something besides just sit here. I have to. So far no one has come in and I am pretty sure that even night vision wouldn’t be able to see through the pitch blackness of this room. I am just sitting there until they decide that they have had me for long enough and kill me.

I take a deep breath and then allow myself to unlatch my arms from around my knees and to pull myself up onto all fours. My hand sweeps out in front of me and it is met with nothing but cold air. So not a cardboard box. Maybe a shipping container. I shuffle forward a little bit on my knees. Maybe if I can just make it to the other side of the space, there will be a door or something that will lead to the outside world.

I continue on with my blind search until I put my hand down on top of something. It all happens so quickly. I set my hand down on something and then suddenly my hand is going through the something. My arm goes in all the way up the elbow and I can feel a warmth encompass me. I have to pull my hand out of whatever it was in, and the warm and sticky substance encases my entire left forearm.

That is the breaking point. That is what makes me scramble to my feet, take a couple steps and then hunch over, vomiting up whatever stomach contents I have. I have no idea what that was, but I can tell you that I know it wasn’t strawberry jelly. The smell is enough to tell me that.

I abandon my search of the room and crawl back into my little corner, stumbling as I walk because these fuckers know that I would kick their ass if they didn’t have this stupid noise buzzing through my ears.

I sit back down on the ground and let my head hit the wall behind me. I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to cry but I don’t know what else there is for me to do. I am helpless. I can’t use my power and there isn’t anybody here for me to kick the shit out of. I don’t know who is doing this, why they took me, or what they want.

I let the first tear fall, and I don’t even attempt to wipe it off.

All I know is that I want Bucky. I want to be back home in the complex. I want to be home.

Please come find me Bucky.

~

Bucky’s POV:

“What the fuck do you mean we don’t have anything?! How can we not have found out a single fucking thing on where Y/N might be?!” my voice shakes and it feels like it shakes the entire complex with it. I am angry. I am beyond angry. I really don’t think that there are any words to describe the emotions that I am feeling right now. There are too many of them.

It has been two days since Y/N has gone missing. Two days since I realized that she was taking a bit to long with her shower and went up to find her bedroom empty and some blood on the floor. It has been two days since I realized that the girl that I am supposed to protect with my entire life is missing. Two days of non-stop panic and anxiety, trying to find anything that could possible lead me to her.

“Bucky. We are doing everything that we can. We don’t really have a lot to go off of,” Steve says as he and the rest of the team are sitting in the conference room, trying to have a civil conversation about the plans that they should be making. How is this any time to be having a civil conversation? This is the time to be going out and knocking people’s teeth out until they tell me what I need to know.

“Yea, Buck. It’s not like they exactly left us a note, telling us exactly where they were taking her. These things take time,” Natasha says and I can see her give me a small smile of sympathy. But small smiles of sympathy aren’t what I need right now.

“Why aren’t we going through lists of all of our enemies and trying to figure out which one has her that way?” I am pacing the floor now. Back and forth. Back and forth. It doesn’t offer me any release but it does allow me to do something. Anything.

“We are doing that. But that list isn’t exactly a short one. Like Romanoff said, these things take time,” Tony is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He gives me a look that tells me that he is sorry but he isn’t that sorry.

They are all trying to cut themselves off from their emotions. They are all trying to pretend like this isn’t one of their own that has gone missing. They are trying to keep themselves more rational by being impartial to the situation. But that doesn’t work with me. None of that works for me.

I am not going to sit here and pretend that my Y/N is just another random stranger that we have to save. I am not going to pretend like she isn’t the most important thing in my life and I am definitely not going to stop until I have her back home and with me.

Let’s just hope that nothing bad has happened to her…

~

Y/N’s POV:

There is nothing but light surrounding me. Bright blinding light that causes my eyes to water and me to cover them with my right hand. It is coming from the opposite side of the room, just like I knew it would. Once my eyes have adjusted enough, I drop my hand and look back to the door. There is a silhouette there, just standing.

“I see you have had the pleasure of getting acquainted with Robert,” the voice says and I am confused for a second until I look down and realize that there is a body lying in the middle of the floor. It is half decayed and the skin seems to be sliding off of the bones a bit. I notice that there is a gaping hole in the middle of the stomach and when I look down at my arm, it is almost black in color due to the blood and whatever else was resting inside of Robert. The sight makes me gag but thankfully there is nothing left in my stomach to throw up.

The noise is still pounding in my skull and it makes my vision blurry. Everything is blurry. I feel like I am going to pass out But I cant do that. I cant. I may never way up again.

“Who are you? What do you want?” I want my voice to be strong and hard but it comes out weak and broken and laced with fear at the sight of the body in front of me. Is that going to be soon? Is that how the others are going to find me? Half decayed with a hole in my stomach? Or will they even find me at all?

“My name is Dr. Orlov,” I can hear the Russian accent now. Subtle but still there. He takes a step inside, switches on a light, and bathes the room in a yellow glow. Everything in this room is gray. Gray tiles and gray concrete. All the way to the gray body lying in the middle of the room. “And you have something that I require,” he smiles at me.

“And what would that be,” I spit back at him, and before I know it, he has crossed the small room and is kneeling in front of me. He pulls a small machine out of his pocket and attaches it to my forehead. This device causes small bursts of electricity to shoot through my body every couple of seconds. He hits another button that stops the horrible noise, but I still cant use my power because of this stupid electricity.

FUCK ME.

“I require the code to my asset. And it seems that you are the one that has it,” he leans back and I cant help the look of pure confusion on my face. How the hell does he know about that. There is no way that he could possibly know about the code. I erased it from every person’s mind in the world. The only way that he could remember was if he wasn’t on the planet when I was erasing things… But that’s not possible. “Ah, I can see the little wheels in your head turning. So many questions. But don’t worry your pretty little head about that. We will have plenty of time to talk and discuss how I know the things I know while you are telling me the code,”

“I will never tell you the code,” I hiss back at him, feeling myself lose consciousness once again.

“Torture is a powerful thing Ms. Y/N. Never say never,” he smiles at me.

Taglist: 

@jacks-on-krack @tbetz0341 @haleypearce @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @zestygingergirl @geeksareunique @jemjem-chan @rachelmc97 @fesslasuisse @vvonder-lands @ran-randomness @m4df4n

[scarlette-joel-writing]

Erased Pt. 6

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Requested by: Me

Warnings: Langu- you already know.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7  Part 8  Part 9 Part 10  Part 11  Part 12 Part 13

~

“Are you sure that this is really a good idea?” Wanda asks as she sticks the needle into my arm. The pain of the needle going in doesn’t cause me any pain but the cooling serum that begins to flow through my veins causes me to let out a string of curses as long as War & Peace.

“I don’t think it really matters if it is a good idea, so long as the idea works,” It is dawn. The whole meeting with Steve and everyone happened yesterday and now it is time for us to put the plan into effect. It is time to try and make everything as normal as It can be.

“If it is a good idea then it should work. Hence it should be important if the idea is good or not,” Wanda goes over to my other arm and sticks another needle in and then more serum is being pumped through me.

“FUCK!”

“What the hell is this stuff and why am I injecting it into you?” she asks as she works on injecting a needle full of serum into each of my legs as well.

We are sitting in the middle of my living room on the couch. I had requested to be here instead of in Med Bay considering the fact that I have been down there way too many times since moving here. If I am going to possibly die and make my head explode to save Bucky’s life, I might as well do it in the comfort of my own home.

“What you are injecting into her,” comes a voice from behind Wanda and she turns around to come face to face with Stephen Strange, dressed way down in nothing but some nice slacks and a button up. He comes up behind her to check the vitals in the machine before looking back at Wanda, “is a serum that will allow Y/N to stay cool while she is doing her job. Y/N’s power causes her to use a lot of energy and therefore she creates a lot of heat. If her blood or her body temp becomes too high she could go into cardiac arrest and die. And none of us need that,” Dr. Strange gives me a small smile and a wink and I laugh even though the pain of the serum flowing through my body feels like it is setting it on fire, not cooling it down.

Another thing that I had requested was Dr. Strange. I knew him back before he had all of this great power and before he defeated that one guy with the weird eyes. I knew him when he was the great surgeon. I had been a patient of extreme value to him. He had been fascinated with the way that my brain worked, and he had even opened up my skull a couple of times to take a look at it. Back then my parents believed that I was sick and that I needed to be fixed. Dr. Strange had been the one to tell me that my mind was a miracle. Not a curse. He made me proud to be whom and what I was.

“We are going to need more room than this,” Strange says as he looks around at the couch that I am on. “It is long enough but it isn’t wide enough. We are going to have to move you in and onto the bed. It will give me enough space to be able to lay all of the machines and tubes out,” I am about to protest. To tell him that no one is allowed in my room. But what can I tell a man who has opened up my skull and played with my brain about privacy? There is no privacy.

He motions Wanda to come with him, and one by one he begins to move everything into my room. Into my sanctuary. Machines that will regulate my breathing and my heart beat. Machines that will dull all of my senses so that I can focus. Machines that will give me constant nourishment to keep my strength up and to keep me hydrated. So many things that are going to keep me alive. And so many things that could kill me if anything goes wrong.

“Hey doll,” I hear to my left and I look over to see Bucky stepping off of the elevator. He is alone but I can imagine that the rest of the group will find their way up here eventually. They will find a way to make a spectacle of all of this. “You look like hell,”

“I feel like hell,” I try to laugh through the pain of the truth but he doesn’t seem to be laughing at all. I can feel the temp in the room begin to slowly drop and I can tell that the serum is kicking in. It is almost time.

“You are gonna do great. You are gonna kick some memory ass in there and then when you come out, everything is going to be right with the world. Then we can start training. I will even wake up at 4:30 in the morning for you and we can do it then,” he puts a hand to my cheek, the flesh one, and then frowns. “You are ice cold,”

“It is all part of the plan, Barnes. All part of the plan,” I can hear Strange come out once all of the machines have been moved and hooked up, and motion towards Bucky and me.

“Bring her in. It is ready, and if we don’t start soon she might freeze to death,” Is all that Strange says as he disappears back into my room. There is more noise and more rustling and then Bucky is looking at me.

“You cant walk? You might freeze to death? What the hell are you doing to yourself?’ He asks, but I don’t think that he is really expecting a response. He just leans down and puts one hand under my neck and the other one under my knees as he lifts me off the couch like I am a pillow. I am not a big big person but I am not small either. And I am also pretty much dead weight in his hands. I have to marvel at the strength of the man as he walks me towards my bedroom.

“Put her on the bed. Right there in the middle,” I let the familiar colors of my room surround me as Bucky places me in the middle of my King size bed. Strange continues to bark orders at Bucky, telling him where to stick in needles and plug in electrodes as Strange himself puts the tubes over my ears and in front of my nose. The oxygen machine. Just to make sure. Once I am covered in 26 different electrodes with 7 different IV’s stuck in me, and a tube inserted into my stomach to keep me nourished, I lean back and let my eyes close.

I feel the bed beside me dip and I shoot my hand out to find the hand of Bucky. His hand is warm in mine and it is only after a second that I realize that it is his metal hand. I lace my fingers through his and he does the same, giving me a gentle squeeze that calms me down.

“Don’t leave,” I whisper as I let myself begin to get lost in the minds of 7 billion people. 7 billion people all talking and thinking at once. It is enough to drive any normal person insane. It might work in making me insane.

“I wouldn’t dream of it doll. I will be right here until you come back to me,” I hear him whisper. Good. I am not alone. I am not alone. I can do this. I am not alone. “You aren’t alone,” I hear him repeat back to me.

And then everything I know of the physical world is gone.

It is like nothing that I have ever seen before. It isn’t just a warehouse full of filing cabinets. It isn’t even a world full of filing cabinets. It is so much bigger than that.

It is a web of interlocking segments that bring everything to the center. It is trillions and trillions of wires all connecting with one another. One memory connected to another that is connected to another. Everything is strung together. And it all leads back to the core. To the beginning of consciousness itself. It is the root of all thinking and it Is the root of all thought and it is the center of over 7 billion peoples thoughts and memories and inner most secrets.

I have only ever allowed myself to work on one person at a time. Maybe two or three depending on the situation. But to stand in the middle of an entire worlds thoughts is something that I never dreamed possible.  It is the definition of unorganized and also completely logical. It is everything and nothing all at once. It is so many different versions of the same exact memort all playing at once. It is every single memory in existence playing at once.

It is noise and it is chaos. But there is also a numbing silence to it as well.

The power that I have here. The power that I possess in this moment is more than anything that anyone could ever think of.

To be able to control anyone. Everyone. To influence the most powerful minds in the world. To cause war or create peace. Bring an end to famine with a simple trick of the mind. To have a whole country, whole continent, whole world bow down at the feet of one person. To influence an entire race or religion. To have the type of control that I have in this moment.

It is terrifying to think what would happen with this type of power if it were to get into the wrong hands. If it were to be used for evil instead of good. The thought makes me want to puke.

But that is not why I am here. I am not here to reflect on the power that I hold and the magnitude of responsibility that I carry to keep an entire world safe. I am here for Bucky. I have to find very specific memories and I don’t have a lot of time to do it.

I need to search for people who have any memory of the winter soldier and I need to erase it. Not just hydra. Anyone. They cant know him. If they know him, Hydra knows him. And then we need to find people who have that specific code memorized and we have to erase that as well.

Our winter soldier will become a ghost once more. But for a completely different reason this time.

Taglist: 

@jacks-on-krack @tbetz0341 @haleypearce @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @zestygingergirl @geeksareunique @jemjem-chan @zohoffman  

[scarlette-joel-writing]

Erased Pt. 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Requested by: Me 

Warnings: Langu- you already know.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7 Part 8  Part 9 Part 10  Part 11  Part 12 Part 13

~

I wake up in a room that is not my own. I wake to the sun shining in through the white curtains onto the white walls. Everything is so bright and I can blink a few times to let myself adjust to the brightness of the room. It is obvious that this isn’t my room because mine is painted navy blue with forest green curtains and kept pretty dark on a consistent basis.

The next thing that tells me that this isn’t my room is the fact that there is a body lying next to me. No one in the complex is allowed in my bedroom. People are allowed in my living area and things of that nature, but my room is the one place that I constantly and effectively keep to myself. Makes it easier to keep people at a distance.

I shift in the bed a little and that is the first time that I can feel the arm that is draped over my waist. I still at the thought that someone is actually in a bed with me, touching me. And then I remember last night.

I remember waking up in the infirmary. Remember back talking Steve and coming up to find Bucky to make sure that he knew that none of this was his fault. I definitely remember that hug as well, as he had pulled me to him and whispered his apologies to me over and over again. I remember telling him that I could make the memories go away and I remember falling asleep in his bed. I guess that I hadn’t taken even a second to even look at the room that I was in.

I let myself look around the room that I am to see that everything is the way that it had looked when I had moved into the complex all those months ago. The same beige comforter and sheets and the white pillows. Same basic furniture and curtains. There are no decorations on the walls or sitting on the dressers. If it weren’t for the fact that Bucky is sleeping in the bed, I would assume that no one lived here.

How can that be, though? He has lived here longer than I have. He has been here almost a year and a half and it still seems like he is only living here temporarily. He hasn’t made this place his home. I wonder why that is. I wonder why he doesn’t decorate his room with memories like everyone else.

“Because I don’t have any memories worth putting on the walls,” I hear a deep voice come from behind me and I let myself stiffen. Was I talking out loud? “No, doll. I can hear your thoughts,” he says again and suddenly I feel like a dunce. Of course. I had connected with his mind last night so that he could sleep properly. Guess I had forgotten that I was still connected when I woke up.

“Sorry about that,” I say as I pull my thoughts back into my own head and turn around to face him. Everything hurts when I move, and I find myself wincing every once in a while as I twist my body away from the direct sunlight. When I do, the metal arm that was resting against my waist suddenly swipes across a piece of exposed flesh of my midriff and it makes me jump. “Holy shit that is cold,” I hiss out and he just lifts his arm so that I can turn over and pull my shirt down at the same time.

“Sorry,” he mumbles and once I have gotten comfortable again, lying down and facing towards him, he lets his arm drape over my waist once again. I pause for a second, thinking that he would have pulled it away by now, but I find myself realizing that I like the weight of his arm against me.

Thank god he can’t hear my thoughts anymore.

“So how did you sleep?” I ask, even though I know the answer. No dreams. No nightmares. Just a deep sleep.

“It was honestly perfect. I haven’t slept that well in a really long time,” he smiles widely as he looks at the window and at the sun coming through, but when he looks down at me, he loses that smile. His flesh arm, which was resting between our two bodies, comes up and touches my lip. For a split second I wonder what he is doing but then I feel the sting and realize that he is touching my busted lip. “I did that to you,” he whispers as he continues to look at me.

It is a good thing that he can’t see my ribs or my stomach.

“Don’t worry. I gave you one to match,” I say as I put my finger to his lip that is scabbed over just like mine. His will heal a lot faster than mine though because of the genetic mutation.

“I know. I am so proud. Why didn’t you tell me that you could fight? Why didn’t you tell anyone that you could fight?” he moves his hand back down to its resting position between us and just stares at me for a second. How do I explain it? How do I tell him without sounding like a bitch?

“No one asked,” is all that I say and I can see the way that he nods his head slightly, making some hair fall into his face. Before he has a chance to move his arm from my waist, I bring my hand up and run my hand through his hair to pull all of his black hair back. His hair is soft and silky through my fingers and I can see him close his eyes and gasp softly at the sensation.

“I can train you, if you want. Properly train you. I can make you just as strong physically as you are mentally. You’d be unstoppable,” Bucky looks at me and gives me a small smile that I return happily.

“Really? You would really do that?” he nods his head and I reach over to pull him closer to give him a hug. He is the first one on this team that has ever actually seen room to grow where everyone else just saw fragility. He tightens his metal arm around my waist to hug me back and it sends a jolt through me.

What the hell is going on? Why is my heart doing that? I am just lying in bed with a man that is super pretty and we are hugging. There is nothing weird about that.

“We should probably get ready,” I laugh as I pull away and sit up in bed. I wince but I make sure that he cant see that. He already feels bad enough. I don’t want to make him feel worse.

“Alright. I guess you are right,” he laughs as well and I finally determine that I like the sound of his laugh. He should do it more often.  

Hopefully he will.

~

“We need to figure out a plan. We need to figure out how to get that stupid code out of Bucky. He is one of our best avengers and a part of the family. We need him and that means we need to stop Hydra from turning him,” Steve says as we sit in the top floor of the complex, overlooking the city of New York. Steve turns to look directly at me. “Can’t you just pull the memory of them putting the code in? Wouldn’t that make it go away?”

“I tried that the first time that he came back like that. I can erase the memory as many times as I wish but that code has a physical effect on him as well as a mental one. It has been a part of him so long that it is engrained into who he is,” Everyone at the table takes a collective sigh and I suddenly feel bad that I brought every one down.

“Maybe you guys should just put me back under,” Bucky says from beside me and my head whips around to look at him. Suddenly I am in his head. What the hell are you talking about? We are not just gonna put you back under! “I will be safer to everyone that way,” he grumbles to the room but I know that he heard me and I know that he believes that that is the right answer here.

“No James. That isn’t happening,” Steve says and I am relieved to find another person in this room that agrees with me. “There has to be something that we can do,”

“Unless you can find a way to erase the memory of the code from every person on this planet, I don’t think that he is ever going to be truly safe,” Tony says as he leans up against the window, eating raspberries from a bag.

“Maybe I can,” I blurt out from my spot and everyone just looks at me with raised eyebrows. “I mean, we have the book don’t we? The one with the code in it?”

“Yea,” says Natasha, “it is down in archives,”

“Okay then. I get the book. I learn the code. I can then search through the world to see if people have those exact words in that exact order memorized and if they do, I can just erase it. Hell, we could go as far as to erase Bucky from their minds. Make them forget that they even have an asset,” I let myself smile at my idea.

“Can you do that?” Clint asks as he stares at me like he has never seen me before.

“Yea. I can do it. It’s gonna take a lot of energy and a few hours but I can do it. If no one knows the code or Bucky, no one can ever turn him rogue again. He’ll finally be safe,” I lean back in my chair and let myself sigh in satisfaction, It was a good idea. It is a good idea and it can work.

“That’s way too dangerous, Y/N. You’ve never done something this big and I don’t need you getting hurt in the process,” Steve says and looks around the room to try and find another answer.

“Bucky is suffering every time one of those Hydra people make him their soldier,” I say as I stand, letting the room fall silent. Bucky grabs my wrist to pull me back down but I just shake him off. “You haven’t seen what he has seen. You haven’t seen the things that he has had to go through. The guilt and the pain and the anguish of having to watch his own body, a body that he can’t control, do unspeakable things to people. He has been suffering for 70 years Steve. And if I have to die to make sure that he gets to live a normal fucking life, then by god I am going to fucking do it,” I stare straight at Captain America and I don’t let them waiver. “Now the question here Cap, is if you are going to stand behind me and let me do what I can do to help him, or if you are going to treat me like a child some more.”

And suddenly the room is silent. All eyes are on me and Cap. No one dares speak and no one dares breathe. Everything is quiet until…

“Alright. We will do it. Tell us what you need and we will get it for you,”

Taglist: 

@jacks-on-krack @tbetz0341 @haleypearce @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @zestygingergirl @geeksareunique @jemjem-chan  @zohoffman 

[scarlette-joel-writing]

Silence Pt. 2

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Language 

Part 1 Part 2 

A/N: I know this has taken me forever, I am so sorry. 

~

Note to self: Never let anyone, no matter how famous they are, put a fucking camera down your throat. It is uncomfortable and painful and very very weird to have people staring at you while you have a tube stuck down your throat.

It is Monday. I am currently sitting at school, in my French class, working on some project about movie theaters and the man who invented cinematography. My head is hanging over my desk and my paper and I am trying to finish this assignment as quickly as possible.

Now, I know the question that you must be asking yourself. How does a girl that doesn’t speak get to be in a language class and how exactly does that work? Well, here is the thing. I can still hear the language, which means that I can still learn it. I can figure out the way that things are spelled and I can learn the vocabulary and the grammar just like anyone else. So that means that my listening and reading writing comprehension is through the roof. The only thing is that I can’t speak the language. Which. As anyone knows, is a pretty big part of learning a language.

And that also means that I cant ask questions in French like everyone else can. Which means that my participation grade is shit even though I physically CANNOT ask the questions in French. I know what the questions are and I can write them out but because I cannot physically speak, she cannot physically give me a good participation grade for speaking. But. I don’t know French Sign Language and William doesn’t know French either so it is just a bad time in this class.

Ugh.

“Hey, Y/N can you look this over real quick and see if it okay. I am trying to write this certain part where the girl meets the guy for the first time and there is no way that I can make this scene sound believable,” William is turning his computer towards me and I can see the writing of his book and it makes me laugh a bit. This man is always working on his book.

‘I don’t know. I am the worst person to talk to about romance. I have never even had anyone like me romantically’ I sign and I can feel my face scrunch up in disgust. I have never been the type of person to really care about having a boyfriend or being kissed. I have been single for 17 years and I am pretty okay with keeping it that way.

“Yea, but you are a teenager. You must watch stuff like film dramas and other things. Just tell me if you think this scene is believable,” he pushes the computer towards me more and I sigh in defeat before I begin reading.

‘Her eyes shined with the brightness of the future that she imagined him and her having? Are you serious? You said that this was the first time that they were meeting in the story,’ I look back over at him, eyes wide and my brow furrowed.

“It is the first time they are meeting. What, you think that line is a little farfetched?” he takes the computer back from me and begins looking it over again.

‘It’s a little crazy is what it is. No relationship, real of fiction, would ever be successful if the main girl is thinking about their future together the first time that she meets the boy!’ Why is it so hard for people to understand that not everything in the world is a fairytale ending in which a damsel in distress gets saved by prince charming? Why is it so impossible to believe the fact that a girl doesn’t need a guy or vice versa to be happy?

“See? This is why I need help with this story! I told you there was no way that it was going to sound believable”

‘The rest of the book so far is great. But I would erase that entire scene and start over. It is needed.’ And then I am hunched back over my assignment, trying to finish it while I still can. I need to get it finished considering that I have a ton of other work that needs to be done and I don’t need to tack this onto that long list.

~

Lunch comes around quicker than usual. All of my classes seemed to fly by with either us working on small projects or just watching movies about the things that we are studying. It has been pretty nice to just sit back and relax a bit. Something that isn’t usually done because of the fact that everything is work work work when you are a senior in high school.

“Hey,” William says and he taps me on the shoulder. Sometimes he forgets that I am not one of the usual deaf kids that he has to work with because he is constantly tapping on me to make sure that I can see him. He forgets the fact that I can still hear. “I forgot my lunch at home so is it okay if I go and get lunch? I will be back in 15 minutes max,” he looks a little sad and the fact that he has to leave me (because he technically isn’t allowed to) but I just nod my head at him.

‘Of course. I am not going to die on my own for 15 minutes. Go get some lunch,’ he smiles at me and laughs before he turns to walk away. Then I am actually on my own and it is a different experience. I am used to having at least one person around me that is my link to the outside world.  A way to get my thoughts out into verbal words for people.

I walk to the cafeteria and when I step in, I am met with the low roar of the standard cliché high school cafeteria. With people sitting and standing at different points around the room, talking to people and mingling with people. They are all stuck in their little groups, jocks, geeks, stoners, and others as well, and then there are the rest of us that are just stuck around, trying to fit into a certain place.

I am pretty much an outcast. That is the group that I fall into. But that is because they don’t really have a group of hearing people that are mute and have to use sign language to communicate with other people. Hell, they don’t even have deaf people at this school. Nor is there another mute person. So I am just really an oddity to them.

I take a seat somewhere in the middle of the cafeteria where there is an empty table that I have pretty much claimed as mine, and take out my homework for tomorrow. I might as well finish while I have time. I look up and I can see Rae sitting with her other group of friends a few tables down. I don’t want to cath her attention and draw her over here because I don’t want her asking questions about why William isn’t with me.

“Hey,” I hear someone say, and it is only after someone taps on my shoulder that I realize that that person was talking to me. I whip my head around to see a boy coming around from behind me to take a seat across from me. My eyes are locked in a state of confusion until the boy sits down and I recognize him as Peter Parker, the boy I met at Tony Stark’s tower on Friday.

‘Hello’ I sign back to him and he gives me a small smile as he pulls out his lunch.

“Where is your translator?” he asks me as he takes a bite of his sandwich. It is only now that I realize that his eyes are surprisingly bright for someone with brown eyes. Mine definitely don’t look like that.

‘William isn’t my translator. He is my interpreter,’ I sign, and then I realize as his eyes widen and he furrows his eyebrows, that William – my interpreter – is not here to interpret for Peter how William is my interpreter and not my translator. Shit. And here I thought I wouldn’t be speaking to anyone for the 15 minutes he said he would be gone.

“Why don’t you have any lunch?” he asks, completely ghosting over the first response that I gave him. I don’t really know what he is expecting. Maybe if he just keeps switching the questions, I wont realize that he doesn’t know any sign language at all?

‘I cant order food from the lunch room without my interpreter. People here don’t know sign language,’ I know that he cant understand me but I am not used to having to dumb my sign language down for people to understand. I always have William. He is sort of my crutch.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know sign language. I don’t know how to- uhm, what do I-“ he is stuttering and stumbling over himself and I can’t help but let myself laugh a bit at his antics. It is clear that this boy has never had to deal with a person who uses sign language. I just hold up a hand to stop him. I turn around to my bag to grab my phone so that I can type things out for him and show him. “Wait,” he says and I turn around to look at him. “I want to learn sign language,”

And that stops me dead in my tracks. He wants to what? I don’t think that I heard that I heard that right. I don’t think that this boy actually just said that he wants to learn sign language. I have never, in the two years that I have been learning sign language, eever had anyone tell me that they want to learn sign language so that they can talk to me.

‘Why’ I sign, and when he furrows his eyebrows at me once again I repeat the motion and mouth the word along with it. No sound comes out, but I hope he can read lips well enough to understand what I am saying.

“Why do I want to learn sign language?” I nod my head to show him that that is what I meant and he kinda shrugs his shoulders a bit in response. “I want to be able to talk to you. I know that you are hoping that Tony can help you talk again, but until that happens, I would love to learn,” I am honestly so shocked at his statement. Why? Why would he want to learn for me? I have only met this kid once.

‘Ok’ I sign mouth the word for him. I am not used to mouthing the words because I usually have William, but I guess I will have to start getting used to mouthing the words if Peter is going to learn.

“So was that guy you came in with on Friday your dad?” he asks as he takes another bite of his sandwich and I cant help but let myself tense up a little. It is an innocent question enough. Peter doesn’t know that Paul isn’t my dad and he doesn’t know my situation, but still, the question is enough to send shockwaves through me,

‘No. Paul was a friend of my dad’s. I live with him,’ I make sure to sign things slowly and to mouth all of the words. It takes about a minute but he finally understands what I am saying and nods his head.

“Im guessing you don’t want to talk about why you are living with him and not your parents,” he says as he sets the sandwich down and takes a drink of soda.

‘No. I don’t’

“I understand” I look up to the cafeteria door to see William coming through it with a bag from Subway. That man better have brought me a cookie or I will be so upset. He knows I love their cookies.

“Hey Y/N,” William says and he reached into his bag to pull out a smaller bag with a cookie inside of it. He knows me too well. He sets the cookie down on the table with his food. “Come on, lets go get you some food real quick so that you can eat before physics,” it is only then that he looks over and sees another person sitting at the table with me.

‘William, this is Peter. Peter, this is William, my interpreter,’ I sign, and the sweet sound of William’s voice fills my ears as he interprets what I say to Peter. It brings a sense of security to me. Being away from William during the school day for too long gives me anxiety. It was the same kind of feeling I had right after the accident, when I couldn’t speak and  Ididnt know sign language so there was really no way for me to communicate.

“Nice to meet you,” Peter says to William and they shake hands.

“Nice to meet you as well,” comes William’s response and then Peter is looking back at me to see what I am going to say next.

‘I guess that I will talk to you tomorrow and we can find a way to work out a plan about when we can meet,’ I say and Peter just pulls out a piece of paper, scribbles something down on it, and hands it over to me. When I look down, I can see that it is his name with a number under it. When I look back up to try and ask him why he gave this to me, he is already gone and going to go sit with a couple of other people at another seat.

What the hell?                      

“Wow Y/N,” William says as we head up to the food line. “I leave for 15 minutes and you get yourself a boyfriend,” he laughs at me, but I don’t laugh back.

‘He’s not my boyfriend.’

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