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Forgiveness pt.1

Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Reader is a victim of the Winter Soldier. When Bucky finds her to apologize, she tries to shoot him thinking he’s still the Winter Soldier. Angst, fluff, mentors of violence and blood, Bucky spills his heart out to you. Takes place during Falcon And The Winter Soldier.

Ten years ago...

Shots rung through the alleyway, a man now was dead. As a man with a sliver metal arm stood above him with an expressionless face. He turned around to leave the alleyway only to notice a girl standing there in absolute horror. Y/N was frozen with fear and only came to her senses when the man began to walk closer to her. She screamed and began running from him. However, he caught up with her shooting her in the leg. She fell down hard as her face hit the sidewalk as the blood began to pour from her fractured nose. He came towards her and began punching her face, stomach, and pressing his foot on her injury. Her screamed echoed through the night. He looked down at her with the same expression as the man he killed. She knew this was where she was going to die. Until a bright light cascaded on their bodies, blinding the man standing before her. She saw his face, from his blue eyes, and blood splattered face. If she wasn't being murdered right now she'd think this man was handsome. He then ran back into the alleyway and somehow disappeared. Y/N cried not just from her injuries, but from the sweet relief that her life might last a little bit longer. A police officer kneeled down towards her asking her questions, but she couldn't respond still coming down from the adrenaline rush she just had. She knew that if she ever saw that man with the silver arm again, she would be ready to face him.

Bucky's Pov

Apologizing has been one of the hardest things I've needed to do. Looking into the eyes of my victims or their loved ones makes me feel a guilt that is all consuming. My therapist suggested that this was a good idea, but it sure as hell doesn't feel that way. I'd rather just send them a letter and a gift basket, but I know these people deserve much better than that. I was near done with my list, as I just talked to two of the last three on my list. Their tears and screams will keep me up at night for the rest of my life. Part of me thought that I deserve it, but at the same time it wasn't me who killed or hurt those people, it was The Winter Soldier.

The sun was beginning to set in the sky as the chill of the coming night began to fill the air. Walking up to the apartment building, I took a deep breath trying to calm myself. I really hurt his girl, and I could understand if she could never forgive me, I certinaly wouldn't. Her name was Y/n L/N.As I got to her apartment I hesitated knocking on her door. What I did to her was pure evil and from what I've heard about her is that she's had to go through years of therapy because of it. Taking a leap of faith, I knocked on the door. After a couple of seconds, I heard footsteps and then the door opened slightly reveling her. She was beautiful, her hair was a lovely h/c, her eyes looked tired and I was guessed she was going to bed. Her face was laced with confusion before quickly changing into horror.

"Get the hell away from me." She snaped

"Please I'm not him anymore." I pleated

"You're a fucking liar!" She cried running quickly into her kitchen grabbling a gun from under her sink. She then pointed the gun at me and fired, which bounced off my metal hand that I used to protect myself.

"Y/N, please just hear me out. I'm not him anymore!?" I shouted raising my hand in the air.

"Why in the hell would I do that?" She yelled

"Look I don't know. All I know is that I hurt you in horrible ways and I'm so sorry that I did." I said softly looking into her eyes.

"I nearly died because of you. And you came to apologize?" She questioned still pointing the gun at me.

"You're right, I promise after I'm done you will never see me again." I promised her lowering my hands.

"Fine, you have two minutes and if you're not out by then I will shoot you in the fucking head. Do you understand?" She said sternly

"Yes, I understand." I responded lowering my hands

"Stay standing and don't make any sudden movements." She ordered lowering her gun but still holding it.

"You got it." I said

"Talk." she ordered

"I know that I hurt you and I came here to say sorry. I'm not that monster anymore and I can assure you that he's dead. He will never hurt you or anyone else again. He was a tool for H.Y.D.R.A and I had no say in what I did. They brainwashed me and forced my body to kill innocent people. I'm not trying to condone my actions, I'm just trying to explain. " I calmly said trying not to make her more scared. Her eyes seemed to soften a little.

"Do you remember everything?" She questioned

"Yes, I remember all of them. Every single person, from their cries, to the sound of their blood hitting the ground. I remember how it felt to kill them and how little I cared. I never want to be like that again, and I've gone through a lot to make sure that I don't." I said tears prickling my eyes.

"So what's your real name then?" she questioned hesitantly

"James Buchanan Barnes, but my friends call me Bucky." I told her with a slight smile.

"Good name, hell of a lot better than The Winter Soldier." She joked hesitantly

"Yeah." I chucked

"So you weren't the one doing all of that, are you sure?" she questioned placing the gun on the counter to her right.

"No I wasn't, I would never have hurt you, I promise." I reassured giving her a smile.

"I still can't forgive you." She admitted

"I know and I don't expect you to. What I did, what he did, was unforgivable." I stated sadly. "I should go, thank you for your time."

"Yeah, no problem." she said softly

"See you around." I said turning around to leave her nice apartment.

"Wait, can I have your number? Not for anything like that or whatever, but if I do forgive you, I'd like to let you know." She cried out getting my attention with her phone in hand.

"Sure, I'd love to." I smiled at her grabbing her phone and putting my number in. After I did, I put 'Bucky' as my name in her contacts, hoping she wouldn't mind.

"Thanks." She whispered

"Have a goodnight." I whispered looking into her eyes

"You too, stay outta trouble." She joked

"You too." I laughed leaving her apartment. I left feeling satisfied with what I had accomplished yet still hoping one day she can forgive me.

Three months later...

Sam and I decided to head to his favorite bar in his hometown. We were laughing and telling good stories from our pasts. Today we fixed his family's boat and decided to celebrate with a couple of drinks. I was on my third beer when all of the sudden my phone vibrated. Curiously, I looked down only to be texted by someone I honestly thought I'd never hear from. Tears ran down my face as I read the simple but important message.

'I forgive you'

Thank you so much for reading! This is the first Marvel fic I’ve written. Should I do a part 2?

Requests, comments, and reblogs are welcome.

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

-L.W.L

(Part 1)(Part 2)

Can you do a part 2 of forgiveness??

Forgiveness pt.2

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Part two of "Forgiveness." You have forgiven Bucky and the two of you have become friends...or have you...

Angst, Bucky and reader are on better terms, fluff, slight sexual themes. Reader comforts Bucky.

It was bitterly cold as you strolled through downtown New York. You had bundled yourself up in preparation for your outing. However, despite the endless layers, the chill still nipped at your body. You were on your way to a bar that you and Bucky would meet at occasionally. It had been nearly two years since he had knocked on your old apartment door. He had made quite the effort over the last two years to make up for what he did to you. Despite you already giving him your forgiveness a few times. Bucky would go above and beyond making up for it by giving you flowers twice a week, taking you to dinner, lots hangouts, and he even bought you a nice penthouse with the money that he got from being an avenger. You could say that you had developed a little crush on him, but was way too nervous to ever tell him. Your past with him was mended, but you still had fear of the future, even though the two of you are now close friends.

As you arrived at the door you were met with beautiful blue eyes and a million dollar smile. Bucky's face lit up when he saw you as he opened the door so that you could enter the warm bar.

"Hey there Y/N." Bucky welcomed you.

"Hey Bucky, how are you doing?" You asked walking through the door making your way to the bar.

"I'm all good, how about you Darling?" He asked as you both took your seats.

"Same here, just cold." You told him as you rubbed your hands together gathering the warmth from the bar.

"Yeah, cold doesn't bother me much now with super soldier serum." He spoke casually as though that was the most normal thing in the world.

"Yeah, lucky you." you laughed grabbing the menu.

"Yeah I guess." He laughed coping you. "Watcha thinking of getting?" He asked looking your way.

"Not sure, not really feeling alcohol but food sounds nice." You mumbled. "What about you? Same old same old?" You asked Bucky giving him a cute smile.

"Yeah you know me." Bucky chuckled

The bartender then came up to the two of you, asking for your orders. You ordered F/F and F/D. Bucky ordered the same thing he always does: beer and pie. After the two of you chatted for awhile, your food came out piping hot. You both thanked the bartender and ate your food. It was warm and delicious and it's not surprise that this is the place you and Bucky like to go to for food or drinks.

"So when is your next mission? You asked as you took a bite of your food.

"Actually I'm taking a little break from the Avengers for a while." He said with sadness lacing his tone.

"Why is that?" You asked putting your hand on his shoulder giving him a conforting squeeze.

"I just need a break honestly, the last mission we went on really fucked with me and I lost focus. I realized that I've been distracting myself from the things that really matter." Bucky told looking in your eyes as he did so.

"That's understandable, Bucky. Even Avengers need breaks sometimes." You reassured him as you put your head on his shoulder giving him an awkward but loving hug.

"Yeah, I agree." Bucky responded wrapping his arm around you as the two of you settled into a comfortable hug. You then broke the hug as you paid attention to the meals in front of you with furious blushed on both of your faces.

Bucky paid insisting that since he was the one who asked you out that he should pay. You've learned to just roll with that as there is no way you can convince him that you can pay. You left the tip which made Bucky whine a bit, but he let you knowing that's what would make you happy. On your way out of the bar, Bucky once again opened the door for you. To which you gave him a gracious smile and thanked him for the meal and the time you had with him.

"Hey, you wanna hang out at my place?" You asked him feeling jittery from excitement and nerves.

"Sure thing darling, I've got time." He told you grabbing your hand. He then leaned down to whisper something in your ear. "May I hold your hand y/n?" he asked standing back up. You then leaned up to his ear and whispered too.

"Only if I can hold yours, darlin." You teased grabbing his gloved metal hand in yours as you began making your way to the penthouse pulling Bucky behind you.

After about a twenty minute walk through the shivering cold, you and Bucky had arrived at your penthouse. You reached your gloved hand into your left pocket grabbing your keys and unlocking the door. Both you and Bucky walked in and both made an audible sigh to the warmth of your home.

"Make yourself at home. There's booze in the firdge and snacks if you're still hungry." You told Bucky as you began stripping the warm layers off your body leaving you in your t-shirt and pants. Bucky copied you leaving him in a long sleeve shirt and a pair of navy blue jeans.

Bucky made his way to the couch making himself comfortable by spreading out his arms and legs. You followed him sitting next to him in a similar manner taking in the comfort of your couch that Bucky also happened to pay for. You remember at the time refusing all of the expensive things he wanted to get you as you could afford it yourself. However, he kept insisting and told you that he had nothing else to spend his money on and that you were more than deserving of nice things. You chuckled at that memory which caused Bucky to raise his eyebrow at you.

"Whatcha laughing at?" He questioned turning his body to face you more.

"Nothin." You teased coping his movements

"Been a while since I've been here. It looks nice I can tell you've put a lot of love into it. How's treating you?" He complimented

"God this place is nice Bucky" you sighed "Thanks again for getting this place for me." You told him putting your hand on his.

"Anytime doll, you know every time we see each other you thank me for this place." He teased moving so that his hand was on yours.

"And you always apologize every time we see each other." You teased back not realizing that you accidentially made Bucky feel bad.

"Yeah, well I've got a lot to be sorry for y/n. And I've got a lot to make up for." He spoke and you could tell he was about to cry.

"You aren't that guy anymore and I'm confident you never will be." You told him squeezing his hand sofly.

"I'm not so sure Y/n..." He whispered as a tear left his right eye.

"What do you mean?" You questioned

"I messed up real bad on the mission and went too far." He told you looking anywhere but your face.

"What do you mean, if you're not okay telling me than please don't." You told him trying your best to not make him uncomfortable.

"No, its okay i trust you." Bucky spoke sincerely. He paused for a minute, turning his head away from you. Bucky then sighed deeply rubbing his eyes before turning back to you. It was clear he was nervous and based on the past you both had together, he was scared that he would make you not want to be around him. He thought that maybe if he was honest you would turn away in disgust and be frightened again. However, he also thought that maybe you'd understand that the past was truly mended as you told him. Sighing once more he jumped the gun and told you. "The mission was a success and we saved everyone. We took out the bad guy," He breathed sharply rubbing his palms nervously. "The person we were after had the ability to mind control people. He decided to use his powers on me." Bucky pause once more examining your eyes but was met with kindness which gave him the confidence to proceed. "I attacked Sam and hurt him pretty bad. Somehow he managed to knock me out after a while and redwing shot him with a tranquilizer dart. But I kept going, I couldn't stop. I felt like how I did back then only this time I was aware of who I was and I had no control over my own movements. God I thought I was gonna kill him." Bucky told you looking the wall in front of him as tears fell down his cheeks. After a moment he looked at you. Just as he did you wrapped your arms around him, locking him in a tight hug.

"Bucky none of that was your fault. Like you said it was the work of the guy with those weird powers. You are not at fault." You expressed to him scratching the back of his head softly. You weren't scared of him and you haven't been in a long time. You knew that he was a good guy and you could feel your anger bubbling out because of what that guy did to Bucky. You kept your cool knowing that it wasn't what he needed right now. Your heart ached for him and all you wanted was for him to be safe and happy.

"But I hurt Sam I hurt him so had. He said that he wasn't mad but he hasn't really talked to me. Y/n I'm so scared-" Bucky rambled but was stopped when you suddenly kissed him. To say he was stunned was an understatement. He then grabbed your face recriprocating the kiss, leaning forward to capture your lips better. It was a sweet and gentle kiss. When the two of you broke the kiss, you stared at each other not knowing what to say in that moment.

Bucky knew he liked you but was too afraid to let you know, his feelings out of fear you would reject him. However, to him it felt like his whole body was erupting in fireworks. He decided to kiss you again only this time with more passion, making sure that he didn't go too far. You moaned into the kiss, feeling the passion on your lips from his. You pulled him closer making both of you backwards as you laid on your back. You then grabbed the hair on the back of his neck making him grunt as he pulled on your waist so that your chest was pressed against his. Bucky pulled away with a huge giddy smile on your face, panting as he did.

"I'm guessing you like me back?" He joked kissing you sweetly on the forhead.

"How could I not?" You told him sincerely caressing his cheek softly.

"Y/n, why do you?" Bucky asked sitting up looking at you as you followed his movements.

"Simple, you're a good person that has put in a lot of work in getting better. You have taken care of me and have been my dear friend for two years now. You handsome, charming, and kind. Bucky I really like you and I've liked you for a long time now and I have forgiven you for the man that you use to be. Because that man was not who you really are." You spoke honestly grabbing his hands in yours.

"God I love you." He whispered before realizing what he said. You made a shocked face but then smiled and kissed him multiple times on his soft lips.

"Well good thing I love you too Bucky Barnes." You spoke in between kisses.

You both ended up cuddling on your couch talking more about your lives and the fact that the two of you were now dating officially. You talked for hours but the just seemed to pass by like minutes. The night ended with the two of you fast asleep happy with the current state of your relationship.

Thank you so much for reading part 2! Many thanks to the person that requested this I hope you liked it!💜

Please feel free to like, comment, request, and reblog!

Click here to see what I'll write for and HERE for my Master List.

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n and any original characters•

(Part 1) (Part 2)

L.W.L

JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES

"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."

➩ Series:

Collateral Hearts

↳ Bucky Barnes, caught in a political storm and haunted by his past as the Winter Soldier, battles internal guilt and fragmented memories while finding solace in someone who sees beyond his trauma, intensifying his struggle between seeking connection and fearing the harm he might cause.

➩ One Shots:

↳ coming soon …

COLLATERAL HEARTS

bucky barnes x fem!stark!reader

SUMMARY: Bucky Barnes finds himself at the center of a political storm. Haunted by his past as the Winter Soldier, Bucky is pursued by both friends and foes, unsure of who he can trust. His mind is a battlefield, filled with fragmented memories and guilt over the actions he was forced to commit. In the midst of this turmoil, he encounters someone who approaches him with a genuine sense of empathy. Unlike others who see him as a threat or a tool, she sees the person behind the trauma. The internal struggle between his desire for connection and his fear of causing harm adds to the anguish he feels daily, making every interaction a bittersweet reminder of the man he wants to be versus the man he fears he still is.

WARNINGS: cursing, heavy angst, marvel theme violence, some talks of blood and gore, self depicting thoughts

A/N: I love Bucky, so I couldn’t help myself in writing this! He deserves the world, marvel needs to leave him alone, so here’s my take on his happy ending! Beautiful divider graphic by @sister-lucifer

chapter one: echoes of the past

chapter two: lines drawn

chapter three: fractured bonds

chapter four: sanctuary

FREAK LIKE ME- J.B BARNES

Pairing:  Boyfriend! Bucky  x  Female! Reader

Word Count: 690

Summary: bucky wants to try something new in the bedroom, wanting to film you so he can watch it during his long missions away from you. lights camera, action…

Warnings: fingering, overstim, smut implied, petnames, swearing, bucky  licks ur cum off his fingers 0_0, daddy kink, subspace, pornography, praise kink

Keep reading

bestie pls write a bff/roomate!bucky + mutual masterbating blurb🫣 i love him so much😭

Caramel Kisses || B.B

Pairing: roommate!bucky x reader

Content warning: fluff, little angst, SMUT (mutual masturbation)

Word count: 2.9k

A/n: are you trying to kill me?… I kind of gave up at the end bc I was tired:( anyways, enjoy!!! masterlist

It happened one, two— far too many times. It started with small butterflies, shared glances, then it transitioned to small touches, shared kisses; those kisses somehow always ended in both our pants off, sweating and moaning, praising each other with curses.

Every time it happened, we swore it wouldn't happen again. Our friendship was too valuable. But someone always broke. It was either him or me, sneaking out of each other's rooms just to go about the day like we hadn't committed something sinful.

I sulked with a champagne glass between my fingers, ignoring the countdown in the background. People shouted along until it finally ended at zero, then everyone cheered; couples kissed, friends hugged— all I could think about was Bucky in that small ass apartment, spending New Years alone.

“Babe!” My friend yelled from across the room, approaching me with wobbly steps. “What’s your New Year’s resolution?” She slurred, wiggling a finger in front of my face.

“The realistic one or the unrealistic one?” I smiled.

Her lips pinched to the side, contemplating. “Surprise me!” She replied bubbly.

“To stop sleeping with my roommate,”

“And which one was that?”

I snorted, “we’ll never know.” I chugged down my champagne before getting dragged onto the living room floor to dance.

Truth was, I was determined to stop. Because all those nights keeping each other warm made me feel something else for him; it made me fall for him. Hard. Like I was on the tallest building and his soft voice calling my name was what tipped me over.

My heart cracked a tiny beat to hear him leave every night before the morning; acting normally throughout the day, until the night, then repeating the same thing all over again.

I didn’t know if he felt me the same way, and I wasn’t planning to risk our friendship over a feeling that I would forget in two to three years (if I was lucky).

One hangover and a flight from home to New York later, I found myself pushing my keys into the lock of our front door and opening it.

The familiar smell brought me comfort. It was unique. Bath & body works holiday candle unique, but the scent would always be engraved into my mind. It was our scent.

A cat meowed behind me, followed by another pair of keys jingling. I froze, already feeling the heat rush to my face and my hands growing clammy.

“You’re back.” He said breathlessly. The door shut.

A cat circled my legs, meowing for attention. I crouched down and set aside my luggage.

“Hi, Alpine, I missed you.” I cooed, scratching the back of his ear. He purred.

“Hoping you missed someone else too.” Bucky chuckled awkwardly. I straightened myself and forced a smile for him.

“A little.” I admitted, finally coming face to face with him. His eyes captured mine.

“Alpine missed you too.”

“I’m glad to hear.” I said.

It was hard not to stare. His hair grew a couple inches since I was gone, and I wasn’t gone for long. It fit him well, he looked handsome.

“I’m gonna-“—my back crashed into the island, I scurried around it and avoided his stare—“gonna get some sleep, I’m jet lagged.” I laughed, hoping it would hide the tremble in my voice.

“Sure, I’ll be out here-“

The door shut behind me. I was quick to lock it and flop face-first onto the bed to muffle a groan.

It was harder than I thought, and I thought it would be really hard. Sweat trickled his forehead and the neck of his shirt— I didn’t miss it. I was cursed to somehow notice every attractive detail about Bucky Barnes. His lips, his chest, his hair.

I’d eventually have to face him again, have long conversations with him, say good morning and night.

He was the only thing that racked my brain that whole week away— despite ignoring his messages; selfies with him and Alpine, followed with “alpine misses you” or “how’s it going?”

It was never I miss you.

It was the littlest thing that upset me and drove me to ignore him.

Yet he wasn’t at all ignored in conversations. I mentioned him to my family. They snapped their fingers, asking what was wrong. Instead of giving them a straight answer, I told them about Bucky.

Stories about how he does this annoying thing where he eats with his mouth open just to catch my attention, or how when we walk around the city, he always stops at a comic store, telling stories of when he was younger.

I would retell those stories to them, they would listen with wide smiles and stupid grins. The rest of the holiday, they teased me about my boyfriend.

But he wasn’t my boyfriend… yet he took complete and utter control of my mind, and I hated it.

The sound of the door knob rattling brought me to sit up, watching it turn side to side slowly as a shadow lingered. His shadow.

After a few seconds, he disappeared.

With a thrashing heart, I shut the front door just as he was exiting his bedroom. I stared at my phone throughout the day, wondering if he would send a message, or call. He didn’t.

But that’s what I wanted, right? This was easier for me.

By the time I was back from work, it was pouring outside. I was drenched, standing in front of our door again, trembling in damp clothes. I knew he was in there, for some reason, he always was when I came home.

Alpine’s meowing spilled through the door. He was never too fond of the rain— especially thunder.

I opened the door and Alpine hissed, cornering himself under a cabinet in the kitchen.

“Alpine, get over here please.” Bucky groaned from the living room. He got up in sweats and a Henley, his broad chest perfectly outlined through the shirt.

“Oh you’re home.” His eyes went from my feet to my head. “And soaked.” His voice raised, “Shit, how many times have I told you to pack an umbrella just in case? Did you leave it in your room? You’re gonna get sick.” He trailed off to the restroom. The faucet ran, then he came out with towel on his shoulder.

His hand took mine, leading me into the single bathroom. “Strip.” He said. I stared at him.

He wanted me to strip? In front of him?

“I’ll turn around if you want me to.” He huffed. He turned to the mirror with shut eyes.

It wasn’t like he’s never seen me naked— he’s probably licked every inch of my body…

I discarded every article of clothing, watching as Bucky kept his eyes closed. He was growing impatient, I could tell. His hands rested on his waist while his head tilted towards the ceiling. His breaths got heavier, slower, and he looked so fucking go—

“I don’t want you getting sick.” His voice softened. He peeked an eye open to look at the tub. He shut the faucet off quickly and turned back to me, not daring to look below my shoulders. He motioned to the tub and I stepped in, sliding down until the warm water stopped my shivering.

He left the bathroom and I let out the breath caught in my throat. But my heart still beat rapidly.

He came back with a stack of clothes in his hands, setting it on top of the toilet lid. “Dry clothes.” He attempted to leave the room, but I held him back by the hand.

“Thank you.”

“Alpine will be waiting for you.” Alpine “I made caramel popcorn,” my favorite “your favorite.”

He left, shutting the door behind him.

A dick, that’s what I was. Ignoring my best friend the last couple of days just to not end up in the same bed as him. Because I was afraid to get hurt— but I was just hurting us both.

I wrapped myself with the towel and creaked the door open, catching him cuddle next to Alpine with an arm stretched against the couch. A red bowl, filled to the brim with popcorn, sat on the coffee table. The whole apartment smelt like caramel, I missed it on my way in.

He made caramel popcorn. For me.

I rushed my pajamas on and strode into the living room. He stared straight into the television, not even sparing me a glance; not when I took the seat next to him, and not when Alpine crawled onto my lap from his side.

“Buck—“

“You had your door locked last night.” He cut me off, voice monotone.

“I was—“

“And you ignored my texts during the holidays,” Then he looked at me. “Did I do something?”

“No,”

“Then why are you avoiding me?” His voice raised. Alpine let out a small meow.

“I—” his eyes scanned my face, wandering a little longer on my lips. “Because of that!” He looked back at my eyes, brows creased. “You’re driving me insane with the looks, the touches, t-the kisses, I’m just so confused, Bucky.”

“Then let me help you understand.” he shook his head.

God, I felt like I was in marriage counseling. Alpine being the therapist with all the judgmental looks, bouncing his head from one to the other.

“Bucky…” I inhaled deeply, pleading my heart to slow down. “I love you— and not the friend love, the I-don’t-want-to-be-friends kind.” His brows furrowed, but he quickly caught on.

He nodded, letting the room fall quiet. Only the rain splatters and television noises leaked through. My heart finally steadied, but I feared the longer he stayed quiet, the tighter the knot in my stomach would grow.

He kept his stare on me, smile threatening to break on his face. “Jesus, that’s what you’ve been holing up?” He smirked. “You had me thinking you had cancer or something.” He laughed.

He laughed until a tear slipped down his cheek. I couldn’t help but crack a smile.

But my brows stayed furrowed. I still had a shit-ton of anxiety curling up inside me. His laugh let me loose only the tiniest bit.

He caught my tense shoulders and grabbed my hand. “I love you too,” he laid a kiss on the back of my palm, “and more than just a friend, more like I-want-to-spend-the-rest-of-my-life-with-you kind of way.”

Then that anxiety came crumbling down.

He reached for my chin and hovered his lips over mine, kissing me and slowly kneading his tongue through.

We’ve kissed so many times, but this felt different. Butterflies burned in my stomach and my heart felt whole again.

I pulled back. “Be my boyfriend?”

His eyes widened. “I’m used to me asking—“

I groaned, “Be my boyfriend, James.”

“Ok, ok, yes, I’ll be your boyfriend.” He laughed, taking my lips into his with a smile. The same butterflies flourished in my stomach. He teased his tongue on my bottom lips and I couldn’t help my grin from widening. He kissed my tooth.

“But I want to go slow.”

“I know slow.” He nodded.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” Alpine jumped from my lap to the coffee table. Bucky took the red bowl onto his lap before something inconvenient took place. He pushed it towards me. “Caramel popcorn?”

My mouth watered with just the smell of it. “Mhm,” I hummed gleefully, falling back into the warmth of his chest and taking a handful of popcorn into my mouth. We watched another episode of whatever show he had on.

But if I were asked what took place during those 30 minutes, I wouldn’t be able to answer. I was filled with euphoria; thinking of all the kisses he would give me and being able to call him mine, how those luscious lips now belonged to me, and how now, I wouldn’t need to worry about waking up to a cold bed.

The sounds of his breathing was like white noise, it eased me, reassured me that we were okay now. Established.

Eventually, we put the popcorn aside. His fingers drew figures on my waist, sneaking his cold thumb up and under my shirt. My fingers tugged at the hairs on his nape.

His mouth nearly devoured my face, taking my lips hungrily and forcing his tongue with mine. He mounted over me, but I nudged his chest back. My lower lip dragged between his teeth, slowly, before allowing it to fall.

His lips tasted like caramel.

“Slow,” I panted. He nodded, falling back to where he sat before. His chest heaved rapidly, slowly easing with the time.

Our attention drew back to the tv until he said, “hand stuff is slow.”

My mind was saying no, but the way my heart and core throbbed screamed yes.

I took another look at him and the grin he had gloriously displayed. He gazed at the tv, stealing tiny glances.

He laughed. “Are you going to keep staring at me, or are you going to give me an answer?”

“There was no question.” I retorted, leaning over to him to kiss the edge of his lips. He took this opportunity to wrap his arm around my waist, letting the other slide the side of my thigh. He didn’t let me fall onto his lap, he laid me flat on the cushion, forcing his lips onto mine.

His groan muffled into the kiss. One of his fingers teased over the fabric of my shorts, drawing a moan out of me. He smirked, not hesitating to slip my panties to the side and slide a finger down my folds. He groaned again, retracting his sleek fingers to get a better view.

“You’re so wet.” He looked up at me, fingers directing themselves to his mouth, licking between them and over. “Fuck.”

His finger teased its way in slowly, thumb rubbing against my clit. He curled his finger inside me, reaching just the right spot and causing me to whimper.

He slid out his finger and added another, curling them both inside of me.

“Fuck, Bucky—“ I kept my eyes shut, feeling as they lunge into me, following a slow rhythm that gradually fastened.

He rammed his fingers into me over and over, building tension in my lower stomach. His lips worshipped the skin just below my ear, having the opportunity to hear every breathy moan that escaped my lips.

I cupped his bulge, pulling a curse from him. He placed his arm over my head, giving me more access.

My hand palmed over his crotch. He inhaled sharply. His fingers froze inside me. “Doll,” he laughed breathlessly, “don’t tease me.”

“No fun.” I groaned, making him smile and take his my back into his.

I reached into his pants, wrapping my hands around his hard cock. He smirked against my lips, once again, continuing to plunge his fingers into me. A low moan muffled into his mouth.

My hand tugged the skin of his cock, slowly leading my thumb to his tip to spread pre-cum down his shaft. I swallowed every groan he let out while jerking him off.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Doll.” He rasped against my lips.

The pressure in my lower stomach intensified, I could feel my pulls on Bucky’s cock getting slower and slower as the muscles in my thighs spasmed. I clenched around his fingers, enduring a white streak to blind me.

“Fuck, Bucky!” I cried. My eyes rolled to the back of my head, feeling Bucky’s fingers spread my release to my clit, rubbing it slowly, adding to my pleasure.

“Good girl.” He praised, placing a kiss to my jaw.

Slowly, I started caressing his dick again. His glistening fingers traveled to my mouth, as he fucked my hand, slipping them between my lips. I licked every inch of his two fingers, watching his mouth open in amusement.

My strokes got faster, Bucky helped himself with small thrusts. He bit back his lip and let his head fall. His hands plunged to my waist and shoulders for leverage, grunting as my hands ran from the base to the tip rapidly.

“Fuck,” he groaned, spurts of his cum, shooting onto my stomach. His arms shook, he fell on top of me for just a second before recollecting his weight again.

I pushed small strands of hairs from his face. He had is eyes shut, breathing deeply before spilling out a laugh.

“You’re something else,” he huffed, finally opening his eyes to look at me. “I love you.” He kissed me sloppily.

Alpine meowed from afar. I peeked an eye open, breaking from Bucky to look at the bathroom door, where alpine sat with his head tilted.

“Please tell me he didn’t just witness us having sex.” Bucky hid his dick back into his pants.

“Alpine!” He shouted. The cat cowered further away into the restroom, followed by Bucky. I heard whispered shouting as I waited patiently for Bucky to return.

He shut the door behind him with a huff. “Made quite a mess on you.” He sighed, lifting the towel he had in his hand for me to see.

He spread my legs delicately to slide my shorts down and wipe me clean. From between my legs to my lower abdomen, where his cum lied.

Once he was done, he sat back and took me into his arms, peppering kisses on my neck. “I’m glad you’re my girlfriend now.”

the outbreak pt. 2

summary: you've kinda been into therapy and turns out it worked?

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4k

warnings: nothing really, i think. this is actually kinda fluffly. i was in a good mood.

note: i didn't planned on publishing the second part so soon, but i had a lot of free time and a mind running wild. still didn't liked that much how this chapter turned out tho. hoping i could make another part to see what happened to my girl wanda! see you guys in the next fic, love yall. the feedback is always appreciated! thank u for reading.

(if a part 3 never appears, just know this is an open ending)

part 1, extra: 1.5

“So, how've you been doing these past few weeks?”

“You don't have to make small talk to me, Natasha. I enjoy the silence.”

“I ask genuinely. I barely even see you in the halls of the Complex. We only really talk on missions and we've had three since that happened.”

“Don't worry about me.”

“I just want to know how you're doing.”

You turned your head to look at the woman sitting next to you. The uncomfortable leather chair you two were in did nothing to appease the constant headache you'd been having these past few days. Natasha watched you with an arched eyebrow and her hands in her lap. You knew she was right, everyone was always right when it came to you. Apparently Bucky was right when he said everyone knew but you, and that spectrum extended to everyone always seemed to know how you were doing if only by the movement of your eyelids.

That's why you had begun to avoid people.

You spent more time in your room and in the Complex gym, doing research assignments for Fury that involved leaving the building, the three missions with Natasha (fully mandatory and against your will) and sometimes in the lab with Bruce when he needed someone to hold his canisters full of chemical liquids.

Fury and Bruce were the only people you tolerated lately. No funny looks, no awkward questions, no innuendo; just what they needed and goodbye.

But, that time, you did have to go out with Natasha. You weren't given the option to come on your own and it was understandable. A little bit. Even though you were trying to make amends for what you had done, not only on the mission a few months ago but also for what you had done to yourself for years, you didn't know that recovery meant you had to have a watcher on you at all times.

And what's worse, that watchman came with a bird.

“I'm fine, Nat,” you replied to her liking finally.

A short laugh from across the room caught your attention.

“Tell that to the tantrum you threw Fury so we wouldn't come with you.”

You gave Clint Barton a hard look, almost lying on the other longer couch as if he were admiring the earth from a cloud. He had one arm over his eyes which he had raised slightly to give you a mocking look, and one leg bent so that his foot was on the couch.

“I didn't throw a tantrum.”

“Fury, please, I know how to take care of myself. I don't need two bodyguards behind me all day. I'm fully capable of getting there and back on my own.”

Clint's poor imitation of your voice caused you an undercurrent of irritation, but you easily made the decision not to let it come out against him. It turns out that sometimes you could just shut up instead of exploding against others, crazy, right?

“First, I don't talk like that.”

“That's right. Lousy imitation, Clint,” Natasha had your back.

“Second, I only asked him once to let me come alone. I didn't beg him like a fool.”

“Sam told me otherwise,” Clint countered and you frowned. You felt the smile on his mouth.

“Sam's an idiot.”

“Sam's on Bucky's side,” Natasha mused.

And then, an awkward silence.

That was something you hated and still couldn't get used to. When people would say Bucky's name around you, the atmosphere would get strangely tense and suddenly everyone would go silent. It felt strange at first, but when Wanda did it you understood what was going on.

“Stop doing that,” you grumbled with a grimace. “I'm not fucking marble. I'm not going to crack from hearing his name.”

“We didn't say anything,” Natasha spoke again, her innocent little dove expression getting on your nerves.

Count to ten, Y/N, don't forget…

“You guys always go silent after you say his name like he's going to spontaneously explode. We're adults, you know? There are things to get over.”

“Wow,” you heard Clint mutter.

“Shut up, bird.”

Clint made a negative, game-like sound when you gave an incorrect answer.

“Three points off. Natasha and Clint are in the lead,” the man snorted as he rose from his position on the couch. You couldn't do more than give him another look, waiting for him to evaporate into thin air.

Natasha stirred next to you looking around at her surroundings, the dark colors of the room almost absorbing all the natural light coming through the few windows that were in the building.

“You haven't talked to him yet?”

“No.”

“Do you plan to?”

“I don't know. Maybe not.”

“Why?” Clint inquired, suddenly more interested in the subject.

“Because I don't feel like I give a s-”

Clint made the sound again.

“Two points off.”

“Clint,” Natasha reproached him with her tone of voice and the aforementioned only flashed her a smile. “It's been several weeks since you were last together. And you've had a lot of improvement-”

“That's debatable.”

“… don't you feel ready to talk to him?” Natasha questioned, completely ignoring Clint's intrusion into the conversation, again.

“I really don't know,” you admitted. “She told me I'm on the right track too, but just the thought of seeing him again after all those things he said… that I said…”

You sighed. Your gaze focused on the dark floor, a bluish-green hidden behind a black carpet with red, the most horrible carpet you had ever seen in your life.

“It scares me. I don't think I can do it.”

The woman let out an affirmative sound from her throat and the room became silent once again.

You almost let your mind begin to wander into memories, conjuring up the times when you felt like you were on top of the world when you were really about to hit rock bottom. But you quickly focused on where you were and what you were going to do there.

You were going to pick up Wanda. You had wanted to do it alone because it had been several weeks since you had last seen her. The last thing you told her was that you were going on another mission with Bucky and that you hoped it wouldn't end as badly as the argument you had that half the building heard. After that, she left.

She had made the decision to come and talk to Stephen Strange and had told you a few days before you left on what would be your last (official) field mission. She left the Complex the day after you left and all you had heard from her since then was that she was fine, that Strange hadn't locked her in a dungeon and that she was learning many things about her magic, especially how to control it to have power in things like her dreams. You still didn't know what those lucid dreams she had been having for a while had been due to, but judging from the letter you had received yesterday where she asked you to go to the Sanctum Sanctorum, it looked like she had gotten some kind of response.

When you told Fury what you were going to do, he didn't hesitate for a second to say that he would ask the Wonder Duo to accompany you. Clearly you balked, not as many times as Sam and Clint implied, but you didn't expose any more complaints to the Director's authoritative voice.

So, there you three were. Waiting for the wizards to appear from somewhere as you waited in one of the most horribly decorated rooms you'd ever seen.

“Sorry for the delay.”

The new male voice that echoed in the room startled you. You cringed and turned your head every which way until you came upon Strange's figure standing at the entrance to the room, not far from where you three were standing. Natasha and Clint remained unperturbed and you suppressed your desire to complain about the intrusion. You were the only one who hadn't heard him coming, apparently.

“Y/N!” you heard Wanda's voice.

You shot up from the uncomfortable couch the moment you saw her emerge from behind Strange's body. Quickly, you met halfway and melted into a big hug. You shifted from side to side trying to keep your strength and tears held back because of how much you had missed her.

“You look great!” was what she said to you the moment you parted.

“Don't lie to her, Wanda,” Clint exclaimed, and shortly you heard Natasha hiss in his direction.

“I've had better days.”

“I can't believe the day is here already! You have to tell me everything. What happened on the mission? What happened with Bucky?”

Again, the unpleasant silence.

“Why are you two making those faces?”

Wanda was watching the Wonder Duo right behind you and you couldn't help but let out a big exhale.

You turned to look at the only person who really gave a damn about your life.

“Thanks for everything, Strange.”

The man nodded in your direction. “It was my pleasure. Hopefully everything will be better from now on.”

Wanda waved goodbye to him as you turned around and pointed the other two people in the room toward the exit.

The other goodbyes were short and you were soon finding yourselves exiting through one of the portals opened by Strange, where you met the entrance to the Complex head on.

“Ah, magic. It makes life so much simpler,” Clint commented before starting to walk in the direction of the common room.

Natasha had the decency to bid you farewell and followed the bird's path at a tight pace.

“I thought they were going to join us,” Wanda mused, watching their figures walk away.

“No, they were just my nannies.”

“Nannies?” you saw her frown.

You watched the grimace on her face and almost have the urge to ask Sam to come give her a rundown of what had happened in the last few weeks since that last mission, but you mentally pulled back and offered a small smile to the confused woman in front of you.

“We have a lot to talk about.”

---

“Have you eaten today?”

The haze that clouded your mind slowly disappeared, your head barely registering the movements your body made to stay conscious. The soles of your shoes were too hard for your liking and you'd had to go sit down while you waited for Wanda to return. You didn't know how long it had been since that, but it seemed to be long enough for Steve Rogers to approach the cafeteria table where you were sitting with a tray containing the day's food.

“You look like you could use some of this.”

The blond gently pushed the tray until it was on your side of the table, and the smell of beef stew didn't take long to reach your lungs. It smelled good, to be honest. You looked down at the food and moved your hands to grab the silverware.

“Thank you.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm just waiting for Wanda. She went to talk to Fury.”

“I saw her coming in. She said she had a lot of things to tell.”

“She told me exactly the same thing.”

“And did you get to talk about anything before she left?”

You glanced at the fork in your left hand before looking up and meeting Steve's unconcerned face. You had learned very quickly that it wasn't too hard to get to know the captain in your position as opposed to how unreachable he looked to the rest of the population. He was a rough and tough man, but he would do things like bring lunch to a female shipmate who had a blank stare and sit down and try to chat with her.

He was good. Steve was good.

But he wasn't sneaky.

“If you want to know the verdict, talk to Strange. He's a close friend of Tony's.”

The man only sighed, his shoulders slumping in time with his breathing as if he'd been in alert mode all day.

“I didn't mean to sound so…. opportunistic.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You didn't sound opportunistic, Steve, you're just bad at trying to hide your curiosity,” you expressed with a small smile, but the man didn't look convinced by your words. “She's fine. She looks fine. She sounds fine. Whatever they had done, talked about or practiced, it surely paid off. I don't think you have anything to worry about.”

“She looked really scared before she left. You didn't see her. She asked me several times to communicate with you because she didn't know if it was a good idea to do that anymore.”

“She asked you that?”

“Yes. But the mission was very delicate, we couldn't risk it.”

You nodded in your direction, your gaze wandering back over the food.

“I just want her to be okay,” Steve mumbled and you almost missed the way his face contracted. His blue eyes found yours. “She's been through too much throughout her life and now this. It's like a joke of the universe.”

“She'll be fine. She has us. If she needs strength, she'll have plenty.”

Steve smiled, and then you took your first bite of beef stew.

You grimaced.

The blond frowned.

“Was the smell better than the taste, again?”

You nodded with your mouth full. Your hands went to the glass of water in the corner of the tray and you didn't hesitate to down the meat with all the liquid in it. You were almost never lucky enough to taste good lunches in that cafeteria.

“FRIDAY,” you heard Steve say.

“Yes, Captain.”

“Can you order a 12-inch tuna Subway on whole wheat bread with all the vegetables except the bell peppers and olives, please.”

“Right away, Captain.”

“That wasn't necessary,” you turned to the man as his gaze focused on yours.

“You can't go without eating.”

“I would have been able to place the order.”

“Mmm, really?”

“Of course! Do you think I waste the opportunity to spend Tony's money every chance I get? Even, I would have ordered more.”

“Oh, seriously?” Steve had a mischievous grin on his face and you furrowed your brow at his strange expression. “FRIDAY, make it three.”

You half-opened your lips.

“Sure thing, Captain.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“What's with the attitude? It's Tony's money, isn't it?”

You hadn't heard that kind of boldness from Steve very often, and when it happened it was a complete event to witness. The man was a stickler, everyone knew him that way. He didn't understand the word rest and most of his free moments were only used to keep reconsidering attack strategies. Steve wasn't one to let loose and go with the flow very often, but when he did it was something to be enjoyed.

“You know he doesn't mind, right?”

And the moment was over.

“No? I thought he still hated me from lying to him about the book.”

“Uhm…” Steve fumbled over his words and you were amused at the way his features scrunched up. “He doesn't hate you. He was just angry. Besides, it's been a long time, he probably doesn't even remember that.”

“I think he's going to remember that until he dies.”

“Steve.”

You froze in place.

Abort mission. Abort mission. 911. Mayday, mayday, mayday.

Steve looked over your shoulder and then back up at you, your eyes on the embroidery of his brown jacket. You tried to keep your expression composed and sent him a smile of assurance that even you couldn't believe. But you couldn't do anything else. You couldn't break down at that moment. Besides, he would most likely ask the blonde to come with him and Steve would go. You wouldn't really have to deal with anything.

“He's really coming,” you heard Steve mutter in your direction.

Your face scrunched up in confusion, and you watched his expression of poorly disguised panic. You had told Steve only once, days ago, that you weren't ready to talk to Bucky at all. And, apparently, he had made it his problem too.

“Are you busy?”

You heard Bucky so close that a shiver ran through your body. It had been weeks since you'd last heard his voice. On that mission.

“No, I was just talking to-”

“Captain.”

But what was this, the all-call-Steve-at-once festival?

You sank back in your seat when you recognized the Director's voice. If he was there, it meant Wanda must be coming with him, and judging by the contractions in Steve's face, going from confused to incredulous to dumbfounded to flushed, your friend was most likely waving him out of there.

“A word, please,” Fury spoke again, and Steve barely let a second pass before he sprung out of his chair like a spring. He gave you a look and you could almost see the apology written in his eyes.

“Buck, I'm sorry- I mean, wait here for me.”

“What?”

“I won't be late, I promise.”

“I can wait for you in the living room…”

“No,” Steve contradicted him sharply. You caught a glimpse of his stiff expression out of the corner of your eye. “Wait for me here, can you?”

You didn't hear an answer, but you guessed it was positive when you saw Steve's face a little more relaxed. He looked back at you and barely gave you a nod before he started walking toward the exit. You turned in your seat to see him, and barely caught a glimpse of Wanda's triumphant face before she hid behind the back of a naive Fury as she saw your gaze on hers.

That woman really had no idea…

The chair Steve was occupying shifted and Bucky appeared in your field of vision. He was looking anywhere in the cafeteria before he was looking at you. And well, that was good, it gave you time to analyze what you had missed in those weeks without any communication.

He clearly looked calmer. Even though you two were forcibly put in an uncomfortable situation, he didn't seem to mind too much. He looked a little tense, you could barely make out a twitch in his jaw, but other than that he was pretty relaxed.

You didn't know how to interpret that.

The last time you had thought about seeing Bucky again (which was that very morning when Natasha brought it up) you thought that one of you would run away without even a second's notice. It seemed that the only one too scared about that reunion was you. Surely Bucky hadn't thought about it for a single moment since the last time you were face to face.

And his hair. He had cut his hair much shorter than last time. Its ends were directed to the ceiling and you could no longer mess it up if you ran your hands through it. It would rearrange itself in seconds. His eyes were still the same, clear and bright as the clear sky, his expression just as stoic and unperturbed, his body leaning slightly to one side with his hands clasped in his lap. Almost everything about him remained the same except for his hair.

And except he couldn't look you in the eye.

You looked down where the tray with the stew was still intact. You didn't have anything else to distract you with so you grabbed a vegetable and popped it in your mouth.

Turning your head away, you missed Bucky's gaze on your face analyzing the grimace of disgust you were trying to hide.

You swallowed hard and grabbed the water bottle so that it almost slipped through your hands. It was empty.

You almost threw up on yourself.

“Are you okay?”

You met his gaze and froze. His wary eyes were on your face.

“Yeah.”

“Doesn't look like that food is good.”

“Because it isn't.”

You shook your head and pushed the tray away from your personal space once and for all.

“Why don't you order something else?”

“Steve already ordered me something.”

“Oh.”

And silence.

You usually enjoyed the quiet moments, when no sound flooded the surroundings other than your own breathing and the ramblings in your head. You could really enjoy your solitude and the quiet it brought with it. But this silence didn't come with solitude, it came with tension, strain, uncertainty.

You didn't know if you felt you should say something or if you felt you should run away. If you stayed you didn't know what to say to him and if you left you didn't know under what excuse.

Bucky's light eyes met yours again after wandering his gaze for a while around the room.

“Wanda's back,” was what he said.

You nodded.

“We came with her this morning.”

“Yes, Steve told me.”

“We don't have to do this, you know.”

His neutral expression turned chaotic for a moment. Then he went back to being unflappable as if nothing.

“We don't have to do what?”

“This. Talk like it's nothing. It's awkward.”

“Ah. You find it awkward?”

You furrowed your brow at his genuine curiosity. For a moment you thought he was being sarcastic, but his eyes detailed your expression intently, waiting for an answer.

“Don't you?”

“Why should I?”

“Can you stop answering with questions, please.”

Bucky averted his gaze. He repeatedly ran his hands over his jeans.

“I'm sorry. If it makes you uncomfortable I'll keep quiet.”

“Still, you don't answer my question.”

“It's not awkward for me,” he finally said, his slightly tilted head pointed in your direction. “It's just normal small talk. Between two people.”

You hummed a nod and your head moved in sync.

“It's easier for you to pretend nothing happened.”

Bucky shook his head, attentive. He narrowed his eyes and it didn't go unnoticed the way you tensed your shoulders as the words left your mouth.

“I never said that.”

“It's just what I can glimpse.”

“What you think you see is not true. I'm not trying to feign insanity.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot you're an expert at knowing what I think,” the words left you before you could process them and give them the proper filter, and you were sure Bucky had noticed the way your composure wavered for barely a second. If he had, he chose to ignore it.

You saw him twist his lips and lower his gaze, as if he suddenly felt distressed even though he wasn't the one who should be worried about something like that.

“You're angry.”

“And why would I be, according to you?”

“Maybe you were expecting a different reaction from me. You don't like what I'm giving you.”

You let out a laugh. “I never thought arrogant was your type.”

Bucky took in your gesture and mimicked it. Seeing a smile on his face after so long brought back images you thought you had sent far out into the ocean of your mind. Maybe you didn't feel your heart racing as it had so many times before, but you definitely felt something different from the fear and dismay that normally accompanied his memory. Even though you didn't want to accept it, you couldn't help but stretch a little towards that new sensation.

“I was joking. I have no idea why you're mad.”

The small smile on your face disappeared, and you allowed your head to wander down the paths of self-healing and self-improvement. Perhaps it was situations like these that your therapist always referred to. Stealthy confrontations that you usually used to avoid like rain, were the perfect moments to divulge a kind of self-reflection and improvement. To, perhaps, make known the emotions and thoughts you used to suppress and keep to yourself, the reason you had ended up that way to begin with. That was supposed to be what people normally did, to talk about their feelings…

So you just let it out.

“I'm not angry. I think I feel… embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed about what?” Bucky cocked his head to one side, his eyes scrutinizing your face as if trying to figure out if you were being serious or not.

“For confronting you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, Bucky. Here's to having you face me and confirming once again that you were right,” you rolled your eyes and took the moment to look anywhere in the cafeteria but into the blue eyes that wouldn't leave yours. “You were always right, I guess. No one else stood up to me like you did and I still lied to you looking you in the eye, wouldn't you feel the same way?”

The movement he made as he shrugged his shoulders drew your gaze, and met you with such a frightening familiarity that you felt old memories and feelings creeping up from the back of your mind to return to the surface. His calm gaze and tension-free body was what you had always been used to, and at that moment it was what you were seeing.

You didn't know how much you missed him until you saw it again.

“It's possible, yes.”

“The point is, knowing that doesn't make it any less complicated. In fact, it's a little harder to cope with. Being aware of the embarrassment… makes you more embarrassed.”

Bucky let out a short laugh. Your gaze didn't leave the way his corners turned up and then how his shoulders moved and his chest contracted in sync with that laugh. You hadn't noticed until that moment the change in the atmosphere around the two of you, much lighter and cozier, not at all hostile and toxic compared to the last few times you were together after the argument.

Mmm, maybe you were liking all that stuff about therapy. To be honest, up until that point you had discerned very few results, although some were quite important. Like, for example, you were able to keep your mind clear of self-destructive thoughts for longer, or that you could look at your past actions and reflect on them, determining clearly what things you were doing wrong and why it was wrong to do them. And there were many, many of them. Not just with the people around you, but more so with yourself.

However, in that moment, having Bucky in front of you and having been able to not only carry on a conversation for more than a minute with him, but also having been able to admit to him how you had felt and show true regret for what happened, you were able to understand that the change was much bigger than you had initially sized it up to be.

“It's serious. It complicates the process for me. That's why I didn't want to see you.”

He nodded without wiping the smile off his face. You could sense the understanding emanating through his gaze and, by the way he straightened his body, you knew he was going to give voice to the thoughts going through his head. Bucky usually kept his opinion of people to himself, he wasn't one to go around highlighting qualities in others unless he was asked or it was necessary for him to say so. Because of this, you could learn to tell when he was going to keep quiet about it and when he was willing to let it all out.

“Still, if it makes you feel any better, I can see you've come too far. Six months ago you wouldn't have said that to my face. I probably would have heard it from Sam who heard it from Clint when he eavesdropped on some conversation of yours with Wanda.”

You were really glad about what he just said, but…. what the fuck?

“Clint eavesdrops on our conversations?”

Bucky went blank. His features froze and the tension emanating from his body enveloped you both.

“Well… I only heard it once. Clint had said he'd upgraded the device for his hearing and was hearing three times as many things as he should. Among those things, he could hear you talking to Wanda in the next room.”

“I don't believe it.”

“There's nothing to tell you for sure that he did it again.”

“And how long ago was that?”

“Mmm, two years, I think.”

“Did he ever say anything to you?”

Bucky didn't answer for a few seconds, his gaze seemed lost in yours, with a solidity and strength too forceful for your tolerance. You suspected the answer was positive, but received the opposite.

“He only told me what had happened. He never told me if he understood anything he heard.”

“Uhm, you're good at getting out of tight spots.”

He gave you another one of those smiles that felt like home.

“I've had years to practice.”

The silence that followed his words was much more welcoming than before. You seemed to be able to move around the masses of air so freely that all the tension in your body could disappear in a gentle breeze.

“I'm sorry this was uncomfortable for you, but it was good to see you. And hearing you.”

“It wasn't that uncomfortable.”

“You're squeezing your legs under the table.”

You looked down, surprised, though you shouldn't be. Bucky had always been good at reading your body language. It was almost like it was his way of communicating. And yes, you were.

“You rocked from side to side. Your hands never stopped clenching in your lap. You were uncomfortable.”

“Still, I don't regret what I said.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

You had a duel of glances and you longed for that comfort you had been missing for so long. During those almost seven months of barely seeing him and not speaking to him, you had learned to appreciate the little moments in life. And you were surprised to think that before you thought you were living your life as you were doing at that moment, the present, but you were not. You learned the cruel difference between existing and living, and it wasn't hard for you to deduce why you had had such complicated moments in your life some time before.

You had never lived anything. You went through your life as a tourist and many times you weren't even in the picture. You tried so hard and constantly to convince yourself otherwise every day that it ended up tiring you out emotionally, and in the process taking everything out on the one person who tried to reach out to help you.

“Buck!” Steve's exclamation echoed throughout the cafeteria, just on time.

You turned to see him in the doorway, his raised hand gesturing for the man in front of you to follow him. Bucky stood up, but didn't leave before turning a glance at you with a warm smile worthy of summer.

“I hope to keep hearing from you more often.”

“We'll see if you're worth it.”

the outbreak: extra (1.5)

summary: you had a word with bucky on your way to your last mission.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +2.5k

warnings: some bad words and slight angst.

note: hey! this wasn't planned but i wanted to add something else to the story that was surely missing. i hadn't thought about the self destructive behaviors we normalize in our daily lives and sometimes that is reflected in what we write. this conversation was something i had envisioned but hadn't seen possible, but i decided to finish it and post it after a whole day of reflection. this talk was perhaps VERY specific, but i've had conversations like this with my friends, so i hope you understand what i am trying to visualize. you can read it before or after part 2! the feedback is always appreciated! thank u for reading.

part 1

Clint was extremely quiet and curiously attentive. As you prepared everything to enter the Quinjet, you shared a silent moment that was uncharacteristic of him. Generally, he would begin a pleasant and seemingly normal chat, until he would start jabbing at you with his off-hand comments and jokes about anything that came to mind.

The Clint Barton who was with you in the armory room was not your typical Clint. You began to wonder what would have happened to keep him so quiet when you saw out of the corner of your eye that Bucky entered the room.

He hadn't been able to convince Fury to send Steve in his place on the mission, and during that week you had seen him only once, about twenty yards away. You wanted to pretend (as usual) that things hadn't broken down between the two of you. That that argument had never happened and that Bucky had never found out about the real thoughts going around in your head. That everything was just running its normal course and you still considered yourselves co-workers, at least.

But it was just you playing pretend.

Bucky walked past you, grabbed the weapons he needed, the razors and knives he handled so well, a couple of grenades that he carefully stowed in the loop of his suitcase and headed for the exit without a single glance at anyone.

Clint had his back to you, but you could feel his body tense, so still you could barely tell he was breathing, as if moving between you would set off a bomb or something.

“The Quinjet is ready,” Bucky exclaimed as he stopped in front of the door. “Don't be long.”

And he got out without further ado.

The mood didn't change later, when Bucky was piloting the Quinjet having a chance to leave it on automatic and Clint was sitting with you in the back of the ship, as far away from you as possible. You watched his figure in front of you and how he sent you wary glances from time to time. The situation was becoming tedious.

You knew you were pretending not to know what was going on. You were pretending that no one felt the tension that formed when you and Bucky were in the same room, mostly being emitted from your body because the man was like a big ice cube. It was the indifference you had seen so much of him direct at other people, especially those he didn't trust, and you never thought it would be directed at you. It hurt more than you could imagine.

So for that reason you preferred to just keep the image in your head of everything that had happened before that fateful day. Maybe your mind thought it would be easier to deal with the rejection that way, because you did know it would happen, and it had taken time for the moment to arrive, but when it finally had it swept in and took everything with it, leaving you just taking it all in in the deep silence.

When the Quinjet came to a stop at its destination, Bucky walked back between you and Clint to head for the rear ramp of the ship. He quietly grabbed his things and stepped out.

Clint had moved to unbuckle his seat belt when you felt the need to ask the question. You moved to mimic the man in front of you.

“Why are you acting like that?”

“Like what?” Clint turned to look at you in confusion, his brow furrowed, when he had fully risen.

You watched his figure begin to move toward the front of the Quinjet and felt everything inside you strangely stir.

“As if you were afraid someone would suddenly start burning up next to you.”

“Not true.”

You turned to look at the man with an ingrown eyebrow, and Clint only gave you a look of complete naivety as he sat down in front of the ship's controls. You walked over to where you had left your backpack and began putting away the few things you were going to need.

“You're too tense.”

Clint clicked his tongue. His body slumped over the big chair and he shifted his feet on the floor until he was facing you.

“It's just… being around you two is too uncomfortable. In and of itself just seeing Bucky these past few days is scary.”

You frowned as you moved your hands inside your backpack. You picked up one of the pocketknives Natasha had given you, with rose embroidery on the black handle. You saw out of the corner of your eye the pistol you had been given as equipment to use in case of emergencies, and you hesitated whether or not to take it.

“Why is it uncomfortable?”

You heard the man let out a laugh before answering. “Are you kidding me? The atmosphere is so tense that I could jump in the air and get caught in an invisible mesh.”

“Of course not. There's no discomfort at all. We're fine,” you repeated your mantra with an assurance that surprised you.

You took the gun in your hands after observing it for several minutes and felt its weight between your fingers, as if telling a story you didn't want to know. Will you carry it with you or…?

“You seem to have repeated that to yourself too many times to believe it. Cute.”

“It is what it is.”

Clint sighed and watched you carefully. Your gaze on the gun did not allow you to see him examine your figure for a while, and you barely noticed the silence that formed between the two of you. Clint, then, remembered something.

“Do you really think no one heard the argument you two had last week?”

You raised your head. You went blank. You let the gun drop into the backpack again and furrowed your brow, followed by closing it and putting it back where you had initially left it. You watched Clint warily, his serious face giving you to understand that he wasn't playing with you.

“The walls aren't that thick.”

You couldn't help but simply not answer him for several seconds because what were you going to say to him? You couldn't go back to saying that everything was fine between you and Bucky because clearly everyone now knew you had something and that an angry Bucky doesn't listen to any excuses and is unkind in that state.

That explained a lot about the sneaky looks you sometimes felt when you walked around the Complex and the therapist's card Steve had accidentally left at the foot of your bedroom door.

You saw Clint again with the face of someone caught red-handed, and at the same time you felt vulnerable because under no circumstances would that possibility have crossed your mind.

Would Bucky even know?

“Can you pretend with me?”

The man sighed, but seeing your agonized expression he agreed.

And then you had to go out to meet Bucky.

You had landed about a kilometer from the distance of the target, which was a small house in an abandoned industrial town. With the information gathered, you had been able to learn the nearest location of the target within some of the houses that were within a fifty meter radius from the center of the town. Clint, already in charge of the Quinjet, would leave to supervise from the height that everything was in order, and give air support if necessary.

Bucky was a few meters away from the Quinjet, his things arranged in their respective places and with his binoculars he observed the town from his position.

“It looks desolate,” you couldn't help but comment to break the choking silence.

The man hummed in response a nod and lowered the binoculars to pass them to you without turning to look at you.

“Look east from the center. It's the only house that has light.”

You took the object he offered you careful not to brush against his skin, and promptly used them to peer into the distance. In the center of the village there was a fountain that served as a traffic circle to connect the main roads. Looking to the east, even though it was daylight, you could notice electricity highlighting one of the houses.

“It could be the target.”

“Or a trap.”

You lowered the binoculars.

“Do you have to be so gloomy?”

Bucky gave you the first look of the day. His eyes were not rough and his expression was not coarse like the few times you had seen him before, he seemed a little calmer than before, but you tried not to raise your hopes thinking that clearly the man had to maintain professionalism during the mission. And you had to do the same. Starting by stopping over-analyzing him.

He looked like he wanted to answer you, or say something else, but he just turned around and started walking towards the path that led to the village.

You definitely wanted to say something, even though you also wanted to remain professional, because you didn't want to spend the next fifteen or twenty minutes in stony silence and with your thoughts being the only thing that answered the questions in your head.

Instinctively, you kept thinking that you still had that kind of relationship with Bucky. Like you'd ask him a question about anything and he'd answer trivially and then you'd tell him something super curious about the sky and the trees and he'd listen like he was being told the truths of the universe.

Why did everything have to be so complicated?

Why did everything have to have been complicated like this?

You walked through the dry grass and stones, enduring the silence for several minutes. Every time you looked up to see the town, you felt it receding instead of coming closer. Bucky's body in front of you moved easily through the grass, almost as if he were levitating through nature.

Again, you felt that itch in your mouth with the urge to say something to fill the silence, but your mind suppressed your body's instincts. You hated it when routines disappeared, especially when they involved people who were important to you. You didn't like the sense of loss that came with the truth and that you had thought that by that point you would be more than used to it, but it seemed you had only fooled yourself.

You did it before and you were doing it then. Some things just wouldn't change.

You were seriously thinking about starting to talk to the trees when you heard his voice:

“I'm sorry.”

What?

“What?”

Bucky sighed, and after a few seconds you thought he wouldn't speak again and that he had only, unlike you, let his impulses win the battle, until you heard him again:

“I regret how I acted the last time we spoke.”

His words left you perplexed. You had expected anything less than to start a conversation about it, especially to apologize.

You frowned, not knowing exactly what to say. You weren't used to people showing that kind of remorse after walking away from your life. You suddenly felt uncomfortable, and feared the direction the conversation would take.

“Well, you had your reasons for being angry…”

“Yes, I had reasons to be angry, but all I did when you gave me the truth was walk away. That wasn't the right thing to do.”

“Well, what else were you going to do? If you stayed and hugged me you weren't going to solve anything. It's okay, Bucky, it's not like I was expecting you to do anything different.”

The man stopped his steps, and you would have collided with his back had you not been a safe distance away, your legs trying to match his stride, but failing miserably.

You saw his body turn in your direction with a puzzled expression. You tried to hide in the back of your mind the voice that constantly reminded you not to talk about those subjects. You didn't want to evoke those sensations that kept you religiously away from your feelings, the defensive actions of your own head trying to keep the boat of your sanity afloat. You didn't want Bucky to keep harping on the subject, but you knew he would.

“Are you saying that-?”

Bucky shut his mouth. Before he finished speaking, he pursed his lips into a line and took a deep breath. You could glimpse that he was dealing with his own thoughts at that moment.

“It's not normal, Y/N, nor good for a person to leave you like I did after telling you something with so much meaning to you. And also, that it took me this long to bring it up...”

You hummed in response. He was telling you the same thing that many other people had told you throughout your life, but you didn't know why his were causing your body to react differently. It was like having your chest spread out like the wings of a butterfly. It was such a strange sensation, so foreign to you that you were unconsciously afraid of it. You didn't want to feel it. You wanted it to go away.

“Why did you do it then?”

“Because I was an unconscious idiot. That's why.”

The man resumed his march as he finished speaking, and you had to wiggle quickly to keep up with him. You felt your head moving a thousand miles, as if it could travel a hundred times back and forth the village road without stopping for air once. You couldn't find a way out of the conversation, so you tried to beat around the bush.

“But aren't you a little hard on yourself? You're going to therapy, aren't you? You have things to deal with, too.”

“Maybe you're used to people leaving you, but that doesn't mean it's okay.”

You furrowed your brow, almost stopping your steps and watching his back. It wasn't okay for people to leave you? You'd lost count of all the times you'd asked yourself that question since you'd had the conscience to do it. You didn't want to think that the world was cruel to you, that people were mean to you, but that the world and people didn't have to deal with the shit you carried around.

The words died in your mouth when Bucky stopped again and that time you almost crashed into him.

“I didn't mean it that way. The truth is, people suck, and there will be plenty of fuckers who decide to leave rather than stay and help you grow. Maybe you met a lot of them and started to see them as normal, but that's not the case. That's not usual, much less with someone you consider your friend.”

“Friend?”

Bucky nodded in response.

“As in appreciation and respect?”

“Yes, you couldn't have defined it better.”

You saw him look away, suddenly sinking into his thoughts before resuming his march on his way into town. You followed him, that time more closely thankful that he was no longer jogging like he was in a marathon. There was a contradiction of emotions in your chest and in your head. There was a part of you that liked what Bucky said, that actually rejoiced in his response and appreciated his sincere apology; but there was another part of you that continued to disown his tokens of appreciation, that didn't want him to see you from above as if you were a little ant he could step on with his shoes.

That part of you that wanted to believe his words clashed with the part of you that didn't want to be vulnerable again.

“I was supposed to be that for you. Then I pushed you too hard, didn't know how to talk things out and also didn't know how to deal with the response I got. I was too angry, but that shouldn't have been a justification.”

“You wouldn't have gotten the information out of me any other way, you know that?”

“I don't think so.”

“You would never have gotten it. If you had stopped, I would have put up walls to keep you from ever coming near me again.”

You meant what you said, and Bucky knew you did. Suddenly, you felt as if in that moment you could deploy the walls to stop him from talking.

“I'm not justifying anything I did, Y/N, I also don't want to say that's how it was supposed to happen because I'm sure I would have found another way. If I hadn't let my emotions win…”

“Can we just let it be? I already know you're sorry and I told you everything was okay.”

“But nothing is okay.”

“Yes it is.”

“No, you're trying to avoid the subject.”

You snorted loudly. You hate it. You didn't want to be rude to him, but you were reaching a limit you could barely tolerate when dealing with such topics.

“Can you blame me? I feel like I've already exhausted all the feelings talk I could possibly have in a year.”

“It's not wrong to talk about these things…”

“And, still, I'd rather not.”

Suddenly, it was like having a rush of adrenaline running through your body. You started to move your legs quickly, and surprisingly you were able to overtake Bucky and start walking ahead of him. Although you looked as if you were not too affected by Bucky being this insistent with your feelings, you actually had your heart beating at an impressive speed. Your chest contracted with every breath and you felt a rock settling in the pit of your stomach. Suddenly it seemed that the temperature had dropped drastically and your hands were breaking out in a cold sweat. A shiver ran through your body and you felt fear at the possibility of Bucky bringing up that subject again.

“You should consider seeing Dr. Green.”

You stopped your steps. You watched Bucky walk toward you and not stop as you asked him, "How do you know about that? Did Steve tell you about the stupid card?"

The man gave you a sidelong glance.

“I gave it to him.” 

welcome home (1)

series summary: you woke up from a long coma with no memory of a part of your life only to be told by your teammates that you're married to the man you hated seven years ago. even though that seemed to be the only problem, as time goes on you're realizing there's a lot more history and mystery behind the accident that left you in medical care for months. blackouts, more memory loss, mistrust and a strange man who seems to be connected to everything. every day it gets harder to trust anyone around you, but you won't stop until you can finally uncover the truth behind the accident.

chapter summary: when an accident makes you forget the last seven years of your life, you're lucky to have someone like Bucky to support you in your recovery. except he's not the Bucky you remember.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4k

warnings: angst. that's all.

note: this wasn't planned. at all. i had the day off and wanted to write something but nothing was coming to me enough to write another part of the outbreak or how to break a routine in one year, so i was just browsing tumblr until i saw something related to memory loss and this popped into my head. i thought i wasn't going to finish writing it but it came out more than i expected. and clearly this gives for a part two and even more, but at the moment i don't know when that will happen. also, i suck with titles, i think i'll change it later. meanwhile, i hope you enjoy it! feedback is always appreciated, thank u for the support! 💜

masterlist | next | series masterlist

Bucky was right to be scared. He was right to feel his soul leaving his body and his heart bursting with pain. He was completely right to be frightened, unsure of the future and the opportunities it had taken with it. Bucky was right to feel that his world was crumbling, that he was left with half a heart to survive for the rest of his life.

But he was also right in deciding not to show how scared he was. He could have his nerves frozen inside his body and feel his blood boiling inside his veins, his whole insides churning and messing up without any compassion, but he couldn't let that rule his life. He knew that the only solution was to cope rationally and objectively, even if he wanted to burst into tears every ten minutes.

“Okay, everything looks good for now,” Bucky heard the doctor, along with the others who were in the room.

He had been standing in the corner of the room the whole time, not moving a millimeter barely to breathe. The mood was so bleak and melancholy that he feared the sadness would rub off on him if he blinked any faster.

“So, can you discharge her now?” Tony Stark asked, his body closer to the door than any other.

“Yes, she can leave after you sign some paperwork. I'm going to need her to come back for some monthly checkups and let me know if she comes to remember anything.”

“Of course,” Steve Rogers stated.

Bucky wandered his gaze over the other two men in the room and the two women behind them, Natasha Romanoff and Carol Danvers. They all looked wary, not taking their gazes off your figure lying on the gurney after the doctor finished checking something in your eyes. He didn't like the way their bodies moved, anxious to talk, anxious to ask questions. He didn't like how Steve constantly opened and closed his hands; how Tony crossed and uncrossed his arms over his chest; how Natasha suspiciously watched the doctor every time he approached you and asked what he was doing; how Carol glared at the man every time he told them there was no news or progress. They had overwhelmed you before with so many gestures and words that the orderlies had to take them all out almost by force.

In a way, Bucky understood them. He too had been terrified at the beginning, still was to some degree, but it had been a while before they began to regulate their behavior. Bucky understood that the situation was difficult for them, as it was for him, but they also had to think about what it was like for you.

You were on the brink of death and awoke to find that about seven years of memories had been erased from your head.

Bucky had not taken it well at first. He was in a constant panic and searched the internet for all possible solutions that could make up for the mistake that was made. He was anxiously talking to Wanda trying to convince her to find something to do. He had gone to Strange almost begging him for some spell that could fix everything. He had asked the doctor a hundred times on the verge of insanity if it was possible to fix it with another surgery. It had simply been the worst news he had ever been given in his life.

Until, by some divine miracle, the rational part of his brain took control of his thoughts and emotions. That's when his “there's nothing we can do” thought came. The rest of the team was surprised when they saw him calmly walking around the Complex and going on missions, when Bucky had finally understood that he couldn't stop his life for something he couldn't fix. He had to learn to live with that and he hoped the others would too.

But no, it seemed that moment of enlightenment hadn't come to anyone but him.

They returned to the Complex after signing papers and picking up medications with the orders the doctor had given them, some pills for the eventual migraines and muscle relaxants if needed.

The trip was tense. Everyone sent you wary glances and purposely averted their gazes when they saw you watching them. Bucky could tell you were starting to get nervous. Even more, anxious.

Lacking knowledge of your family's whereabouts and that your current address was the Complex, that was where you would spend the rest of the days of your recovery -although Bucky had other options in mind-. The doctor had put his buts in, believing that being in such a tense, busy and overwhelming environment as the main Avengers facility was could hinder your process of getting better, but Tony was very specific and quick to tell him that there was a part of the Complex, a wing, that they had almost completely isolated to keep you in a safe place and away from the stress of the job. The mechanic spoke confidently about how you would be totally at ease as if the decision was entirely up to the doctor, while giving Bucky a helpless look. Finally, to please Tony, the doctor agreed to let you go spend your recovery at the Complex.

Of course, it had nothing to do with the fact that Bucky was your husband.

The doctor who treated you for almost a year, from the time you arrived injured and near death, to your subsequent surgeries and recovery, always knew that the final decision was out of his hands. It was funny to watch Tony argue his points to influence his decisions, but in the end that was not something he had any power in. His gazes always turned to Bucky, waiting for a nod or a shake.

Tony knew that too. You had invited him to the wedding because you were closer to him than Bucky, plus they had to see each other constantly for work. They weren't best buddies, but they maintained a relationship that was professional and affectionate and friendly enough to keep you satisfied. That is, until the accident. Since that day, Tony had taken a completely different stance towards Bucky and he really didn't find it strange. He hadn't even been able to speak to him since the day he had almost apologized with his knees to the floor when they had to tell Bucky that you almost died because of a mistake.

Over time, Bucky had let go of the anger along with his realization that he couldn't do anything to change the past, but it seemed to him that Tony still felt guilty about what had happened.

Bucky looked away from the road when he saw you stir in your seat as they were about to arrive at the Complex. The team tried to make small talk after several minutes of traveling in awkward silence, but it resulted in a much more tense atmosphere with everyone turning their heads to look at anything but you like fish out of water.

Bucky watched you from his position in the back of the van as you moved forward to view the Complex facilities in delight. He couldn't help but smile after spending months in constant stress, realizing that you had done the same thing the first time you had gone over ten years ago.

Carol and Natasha took it upon themselves to guide you through the isolated wing of the Complex to the room you would be staying in. Bucky stayed a few floors down along with Steve and Tony in the living room.

“How are you feeling?” Bucky heard Steve ask next to him, as Tony quietly approached the bay window.

“Fine.”

“Buck, you don't have to-”

“Really, I'm fine,” Bucky nodded, noticing Steve's incredulous look. He had to fight not to roll his eyes in disgust.

One thing the team had taken to doing constantly was treating him like a child, like someone who didn't know what he was feeling and didn't know how to control his emotions. That had been happening since the moment he accepted that he couldn't fix something that was out of his control. That you'd had an accident, you'd lost your memory, you'd forgotten him, and there was nothing he could do about it. He had tried everything, and there was nothing.

But the team thought his attitude was that he was trying to hide his feelings and, well, in part he was. He didn't deny that it still made him scared and angry to think of all the opportunities and moments that were gone along with your memory, but he was aware that showing himself that way in front of you wouldn't bring you any good. Unlike him and completely unaware of the truth, the team believed he was in denial. They believed that Bucky had been trying for months to avoid dealing with his feelings and that at any moment he would break down and suffer fighting the horrible reality.

Bucky had only responded to their unconscious attacks and questions with the truth, but it seemed the team was in more denial than he was.

“The doctor said the chances of her regaining her memory were high. Don't worry.” Steve patted Bucky on the shoulder to accompany his words, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“Steve, I'm not wor-”

“And she'll adjust well to the routine in this place. You know we'll be constantly keeping an eye on her and making sure she's okay, right?”

“I'd rather you stay away,” Bucky mumbled, his teeth grazing at the discomfort.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

Bucky kept his distance at first. He wanted to first meet and see how you were adjusting to your new home and how you related to others. Besides, he was also a little nervous about talking to you. You had done it before, yes, at the hospital. You had introduced yourselves and asked him a few questions when he was around. But when Bucky finally confessed to you that he was your husband, it was as if something had disturbed the gravity around the both of you. Clearly Bucky was quick to notice that change in your behavior and began to pull away trying to give you your space and not overwhelm you, unlike others.

You had some memories with him, Bucky was sure. You had lost the memory of about seven years, and you had come to the team ten years ago. That would have been good for him and your relationship, except that in the beginning neither of you could stand the other.

That's right. You two hated each other's guts. And Bucky eternally regretted waiting until the fifth year of meeting you to make his feelings known to you. Because, at that point, all you remembered about him were his stinging comments and his cold, calculating stares. When he remembered the things he had said to you to hurt you on purpose, he would cringe and his body would tremble in rejection.

Before confessing, he had thought about the possibility of keeping everything hidden, maybe try to win your trust again and suddenly have what you had before. And maybe the Bucky of six years ago would have done that, wouldn't have hesitated to keep the truth hidden just to guide you down the path he wanted to walk. But the Bucky who was there, in year ten, couldn't look you in the eye and try to keep something in the dark. He knew it wasn't right and that lies usually backfired on the person telling them. Besides, ever since you had decided to try to have a relationship, you had made him promise never to keep anything from you, no matter how stupid or horrible it was. You had been in such a toxic relationship with him before that you only wanted to look out for each other's welfare. A relationship based on trust and communication was a good relationship.

And Bucky wanted to keep his promise, even if you couldn't remember it.

So he was keeping his space, but he was always aware of what you were doing. And that's why he noticed every time you would give him a questioning look and then pull back and focus your attention on something else when you noticed he was looking at you.

Bucky wasn't sure if it was a good or bad idea what he was doing. He could just walk up and talk to you, maybe you were willing to do that. Or you might think he was crazy for watching you from afar like he was an eagle and didn't want you near him under any circumstances. Bucky didn't know what to do, and asking the team wasn't in his options, so he just decided to do what he thought best.

One day, a couple of weeks after you returned to the Complex, Bucky met you casually. Really, casually.

He had spent a whole week in constant stress so he hadn't even been able to get near the side of the Complex where you were staying. He had been assigned an undercover mission and it had turned out to be a little more complicated than it seemed at first. There were too many fights involved in the end, but he had achieved his goal.

The day he arrived at the Complex he took a long shower and a long nap. It was the least he deserved. After waking up, he went to the kitchen to make himself a coffee because it was just getting light, when he saw you leaning on the kitchen counter.

You froze at the same time he did. Bucky wasn't expecting the first person he would meet to be you, he didn't even know you were already freely leaving your safe place, but life is full of surprises, apparently. Bucky noticed your wary gaze on him, how the cup you held in your hands had been halfway to its destination and how your body moved only to breathe.

He moved, continuing with what he had gone to do, despite feeling that captivating electricity coursing through his body and asking him to move closer to you. Moving his eyes away from yours felt like a sin and his body was almost reluctant to follow the directions in his head.

Bucky finally approached the coffee pot to notice the steaming liquid coming out of it. So, it was coffee that was in your cup.

He was a little hesitant to drink from the coffee you had made because he didn't know how you would react to his intrusion, so he decided to move to the other side of the kitchen where the drawers were and grab the first cereal to be found.

“You can have some of that coffee,” you spoke to him suddenly, resuming your movements and he could barely turn to look at you over his shoulder. “Clint did it.”

Bucky followed your eyes moving all over the instance, anywhere but on his, and even though he felt he'd had a year to prepare for this, it seemed completely insufficient: nothing would have prepared him to ever again hear your nonchalant voice directed at him the way you spoke to him before you decided to become a couple. Bucky thought that those years had been buried in the back of his head, that the situation you were going through wouldn't bring back memories he preferred to keep hidden, but thinking about doing it was easier than actually doing it.

He moved his body almost groaningly until he was back in front of the coffee pot next to you. Hearing you talking to him like that had knocked his mood to the floor. He wasn't too high either, that mission was both physically and mentally exhausting, but he was more relieved to be back at the Complex.

“I didn't see you this week,” you spoke again as Bucky thought you were about to leave the kitchen. He moved his head to look at you, his expression indescribable, you could barely describe him as dumbfounded and bewildered.

Bucky mumbled a few words before responding. “I was on a mission. Far away.”

“Mhm,” you hummed in response, and Bucky nearly melted at the sound. Even though he recognized your demeanor, because that was how you acted before when you wanted to get information out of him or when talking to someone you suspected was hiding something from you, he couldn't help but rejoice at finding little gestures that made him reminisce about the good times he had with you.

With more encouragement, Bucky poured his black coffee under the umbrella of your expectant indifference.

“How have the others been?”

He moved to stand in front of you with the cup in his hands, and could notice how subtly your shoulders slumped a little. He couldn't define whether in calm or ennui.

“It's been… complicated.”

“Are they very insistent?”

You turned your head to look at him, and Bucky nearly choked on the sip of coffee he'd taken. He thought you'd keep visually ignoring him and not turn to look at him like he was a life preserver in the middle of the ocean.

“They're horrible,” you barely whispered, your head bobbing closer in complicity. Far gone was your mask of coldness the moment you found someone to complain to about how terrifying those weeks at the Complex had been. “I feel like I can't move my hair without having someone behind me asking me if I want my hair combed for me or if I was moving it because I had a headache. Anything I do is over-analyzed and that's so…ugh, so frustrating.”

Bucky definitely didn't expect you to spew all those words in front of him, but he did understand how overwhelmed you must be and mentally berated himself for agreeing to you having visitors from the moment you arrived. His idea was that you would have time to clear your thoughts and to adjust to that new place on your own, but somehow the team managed to convince him to let them in from time to time to greet you because being alone too much all of a sudden wasn't good for your sanity.

He should have known better knowing how clingy and pushy his teammates were.

When he was around you, they behaved, but they seemed to pretty much take advantage of the times when he wasn't around to behave as they pleased.

“I hate being treated like I'm a piece of glass. I understand well what happened and its aftermath and that it affected them too much, but I can still live peacefully without needing them to do things for me. I'm not incapacitated or anything like that.”

“I understand.”

Wow, Bucky, couldn't you have said something much more interesting?

“I'm fine,” you continued speaking as Bucky noticed how your eyes were lost in the distance in the kitchen. “I really feel fine. But they're always on me like trying to convince me otherwise and talking about my memories every other time.”

Bucky furrowed his brow and suddenly felt the sting in his chest from anger. There was only so much Bucky had in life to control his temper and that was you. With anything else, Bucky was nothing but walking indifference. He didn't care about the fights the others on the team had, he didn't care about the decisions that had to be made, he didn't care about what the majority chose, he didn't care about the discussions about the rooms when they had to stay in hotels. But when it came to you, there was no stormo chaser that could withstand his tempestuous attitude.

The limit was that the others could get angry, fight and argue about whatever they felt like, but the moment that started to affect you, Bucky didn't hesitate to step up and shut them all up. That was one of the reasons he was the leader of the mission most of the time. It was easy to recognize his leadership ability, even if he tried to hide it through that window of indifference. He was very objective when it came to making tough decisions and was very capable of organizing whatever chaos had been created around him.

And, at that moment, Bucky felt he had reached his limit. He had let himself be convinced by the team to bring you here to carry out your recovery contrary to what he had thought of leaving you in the city with one of your closest friends that you remembered very well; and then he had let himself be convinced to let them invade your space when it was clear that they were not going to know how to behave around you and would overwhelm you just like they did in the hospital.

Bucky couldn't understand how he could have made such bad decisions about you. He felt he had completely failed you as your husband by not giving you a truly safe place in which to heal.

“I'll tell them not to come back,” Bucky told you after a few seconds in silence and your blank stare focused on his suddenly elated face.

“What?”

Bucky met your gaze. “This wasn't the way I wanted you to spend your recovery, and it's certainly not the way you should spend it. You should be calm, but I don't see that happening. I'm sorry.”

You watched his face, transfixed. Bucky looked quizzical for a few seconds at your dumbfounded stare and no response. His eyes moved around your face trying to figure out if he had said something wrong… until it all clicked in his head.

You didn't remember.

Yes, it seemed stupid because he'd been living with that thought all last year, but apparently he had to remind himself. For a moment, he had gotten so lost, not only in the familiarity of your ramblings and gestures, but also in the annoyance and self-reproach, that he had forgotten for a few measly minutes that you didn't remember. You didn't remember that protective side of him. You didn't remember how much he loved to sit and listen to you talk about others, good things or bad things. You didn't remember how much it made him angry when other people made you the least bit uncomfortable or angry. You didn't remember the way he showed that appreciation, that love for you.

That attitude Bucky was giving you was completely new to you. Surely it was like seeing a different person. Bucky mentally cringed at the thought that you must be thinking of him as a jerk who acted like a teenager and said hurtful things just for the fun of it.

At that moment, he would have liked to take more time when you were in the hospital to talk to you, so he could get to know you and you could see that he was different and not the same person he was six years ago. But at that time he felt so scared. Just the memory of your face contorting when he had told you he was your husband still sent shivers down his spine.

One thing he couldn't deny was that he had lived constantly, even up to that moment, in fear of rejection. When you had reacted that way that time at the hospital, Bucky had at first turned away in fear. But then he had tried to be nice to you, as if nothing had happened. However, he could tell that it was much more strange for you to see the flowers on the table in the room or to have him bring you lunch because the hospital food was so simple. It seemed that no matter what he did, that reluctant expression on your face would not go away.

Then, he stopped trying. He would only show up in your room when you were sleeping, in the daytime or at night, and when everyone gathered for the doctor's checkup. Bucky didn't know how to get back into your life and the very idea was driving him to the brink of panic again. So he tried to have that moment of enlightenment again, but all he got in response was that maybe he should continue to keep his distance.

At that point, Bucky didn't know what to do. It wasn't your fault to react that way because it wasn't what you remembered about him, that wasn't wrong. He felt again that incessant need to pull away and go back to watching over you from a distance, because the look you had given him was so similar to the others that it was scary. Too scary. The possibility that he could never get back even half of what you two had before danced around him like a taunt. The ring on his ring finger too heavy to bear.

“Thank you…? I think,” you replied at last, but without changing the quizzical look on your face.

“I'll talk to Steve,” Bucky announced, a little more impassively than he had planned, and took the cup tightly in his hands with the thought in his head to get out of the kitchen so he wouldn't keep invading your space.

He felt your gaze follow him until he was near the living room.

“Hey, wait.”

He heard your footsteps following him and planted his feet on the floor. He gave you a questioning look over his shoulder, waiting for you to say something. Bucky watched you move from side to side, shifting your weight on your legs, a clear sign of your nervousness. When you looked directly at the contents of your cup instead of his eyes as you spoke, he couldn't help a small smile.

“I'm sorry about that. It's just… This is too weird for me. I wish I could get close and talk to you because that's what my body wants, but my head keeps me alert and defensive when you're around. What I remember about you is not…”

You cocked your head and twisted your lips. Bucky thought that had been the kindest way to describe it.

“You don't have to apologize.”

“But I do have to!” you exclaimed, scowling at him. “It's been a year and you've been nothing but kind to me. You've given me space and time, unlike others-”

Bucky nodded strongly at your words.

“-but I've given you nothing in return.”

He relaxed his features, letting the tension dissipate away from his body. He momentarily pushed away his worries and negative possibilities because you stood there in front of him with such a contrite expression on your face that it caused him physical pain.

“You don't owe me anything, Y/N, okay? What I do I do because I want to, not because I'm expecting anything in return from you. If you feel like you need another week before you talk to me, that's fine, take it. If you feel it's a month, six months, a year, it doesn't matter. Take as much time as you need. Either way, anytime, you know where to find me. I'm not going anywhere.”

Bucky hadn't missed the journey of emotions that roared across your face and he was genuinely happy about it. It had been a while since he had seen you feel not only comfortable but joyful around him, that he had begun to think that those moments would only live on in his memory from now on. But, perhaps, that might not have been the case…

“Thank you, Bucky,” you murmured after sighing, and if Bucky hadn't been so attentive to you he surely would have missed it. Along with the small smile you gave him that would be enough to keep his sanity afloat for the rest of the month.

You saw him give you a small nod and then begin to walk away, leaving as the sun's rays began to appear through the living room window. A strange feeling settled in your chest, and it seemed like a turf battle was taking place between your reluctance to accept that Bucky had changed and that you two had taken your relationship four levels higher than expected, and this new feeling that was akin to hope. You could barely recognize it.

You didn't know how you were going to begin to deal with the reality that you were married to Bucky, but you suddenly felt a little less afraid to know the history of the decisions that had brought you to this point.

You remembered the wedding ring that was tucked away in your nightstand drawer and how it shone just as brightly as the one you saw on Bucky's finger. Maybe you felt a little closer to being ready to start dealing with it.

calmly, remember

summary: when an accident makes you forget the last seven years of your life, you're lucky to have someone like Bucky to support you in your recovery. except he's not the Bucky you remember.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4k

warnings: angst. that's all.

note: this wasn't planned. at all. i had the day off and wanted to write something but nothing was coming to me enough to write another part of the outbreak or how to break a routine in one year, so i was just browsing tumblr until i saw something related to memory loss and this popped into my head. i thought i wasn't going to finish writing it but it came out more than i expected. and clearly this gives for a part two and even more, but at the moment i don't know when that will happen. also, i suck with titles, i think i'll change it later. meanwhile, i hope you enjoy it! feedback is always appreciated, thank u for the support! 💜

part 2 , part 3 , 3.5

Bucky was right to be scared. He was right to feel his soul leaving his body and his heart bursting with pain. He was completely right to be frightened, unsure of the future and the opportunities it had taken with it. Bucky was right to feel that his world was crumbling, that he was left with half a heart to survive for the rest of his life.

But he was also right in deciding not to show how scared he was. He could have his nerves frozen inside his body and feel his blood boiling inside his veins, his whole insides churning and messing up without any compassion, but he couldn't let that rule his life. He knew that the only solution was to cope rationally and objectively, even if he wanted to burst into tears every ten minutes.

“Okay, everything looks good for now,” Bucky heard the doctor, along with the others who were in the room.

He had been standing in the corner of the room the whole time, not moving a millimeter barely to breathe. The mood was so bleak and melancholy that he feared the sadness would rub off on him if he blinked any faster.

“So, can you discharge her now?” Tony Stark asked, his body closer to the door than any other.

“Yes, she can leave after you sign some paperwork. I'm going to need her to come back for some monthly checkups and let me know if she comes to remember anything.”

“Of course,” Steve Rogers stated.

Bucky wandered his gaze over the other two men in the room and the two women behind them, Natasha Romanoff and Carol Danvers. They all looked wary, not taking their gazes off your figure lying on the gurney after the doctor finished checking something in your eyes. He didn't like the way their bodies moved, anxious to talk, anxious to ask questions. He didn't like how Steve constantly opened and closed his hands; how Tony crossed and uncrossed his arms over his chest; how Natasha suspiciously watched the doctor every time he approached you and asked what he was doing; how Carol glared at the man every time he told them there was no news or progress. They had overwhelmed you before with so many gestures and words that the orderlies had to take them all out almost by force.

In a way, Bucky understood them. He too had been terrified at the beginning, still was to some degree, but it had been a while before they began to regulate their behavior. Bucky understood that the situation was difficult for them, as it was for him, but they also had to think about what it was like for you.

You were on the brink of death and awoke to find that about seven years of memories had been erased from your head.

Bucky had not taken it well at first. He was in a constant panic and searched the internet for all possible solutions that could make up for the mistake that was made. He was anxiously talking to Wanda trying to convince her to find something to do. He had gone to Strange almost begging him for some spell that could fix everything. He had asked the doctor a hundred times on the verge of insanity if it was possible to fix it with another surgery. It had simply been the worst news he had ever been given in his life.

Until, by some divine miracle, the rational part of his brain took control of his thoughts and emotions. That's when his “there's nothing we can do” thought came. The rest of the team was surprised when they saw him calmly walking around the Complex and going on missions, when Bucky had finally understood that he couldn't stop his life for something he couldn't fix. He had to learn to live with that and he hoped the others would too.

But no, it seemed that moment of enlightenment hadn't come to anyone but him.

They returned to the Complex after signing papers and picking up medications with the orders the doctor had given them, some pills for the eventual migraines and muscle relaxants if needed.

The trip was tense. Everyone sent you wary glances and purposely averted their gazes when they saw you watching them. Bucky could tell you were starting to get nervous. Even more, anxious.

Lacking knowledge of your family's whereabouts and that your current address was the Complex, that was where you would spend the rest of the days of your recovery -although Bucky had other options in mind-. The doctor had put his buts in, believing that being in such a tense, busy and overwhelming environment as the main Avengers facility was could hinder your process of getting better, but Tony was very specific and quick to tell him that there was a part of the Complex, a wing, that they had almost completely isolated to keep you in a safe place and away from the stress of the job. The mechanic spoke confidently about how you would be totally at ease as if the decision was entirely up to the doctor, while giving Bucky a helpless look. Finally, to please Tony, the doctor agreed to let you go spend your recovery at the Complex.

Of course, it had nothing to do with the fact that Bucky was your husband.

The doctor who treated you for almost a year, from the time you arrived injured and near death, to your subsequent surgeries and recovery, always knew that the final decision was out of his hands. It was funny to watch Tony argue his points to influence his decisions, but in the end that was not something he had any power in. His gazes always turned to Bucky, waiting for a nod or a shake.

Tony knew that too. You had invited him to the wedding because you were closer to him than Bucky, plus they had to see each other constantly for work. They weren't best buddies, but they maintained a relationship that was professional and affectionate and friendly enough to keep you satisfied. That is, until the accident. Since that day, Tony had taken a completely different stance towards Bucky and he really didn't find it strange. He hadn't even been able to speak to him since the day he had almost apologized with his knees to the floor when they had to tell Bucky that you almost died because of a mistake.

Over time, Bucky had let go of the anger along with his realization that he couldn't do anything to change the past, but it seemed to him that Tony still felt guilty about what had happened.

Bucky looked away from the road when he saw you stir in your seat as they were about to arrive at the Complex. The team tried to make small talk after several minutes of traveling in awkward silence, but it resulted in a much more tense atmosphere with everyone turning their heads to look at anything but you like fish out of water.

Bucky watched you from his position in the back of the van as you moved forward to view the Complex facilities in delight. He couldn't help but smile after spending months in constant stress, realizing that you had done the same thing the first time you had gone over ten years ago.

Carol and Natasha took it upon themselves to guide you through the isolated wing of the Complex to the room you would be staying in. Bucky stayed a few floors down along with Steve and Tony in the living room.

“How are you feeling?” Bucky heard Steve ask next to him, as Tony quietly approached the bay window.

“Fine.”

“Buck, you don't have to-”

“Really, I'm fine,” Bucky nodded, noticing Steve's incredulous look. He had to fight not to roll his eyes in disgust.

One thing the team had taken to doing constantly was treating him like a child, like someone who didn't know what he was feeling and didn't know how to control his emotions. That had been happening since the moment he accepted that he couldn't fix something that was out of his control. That you'd had an accident, you'd lost your memory, you'd forgotten him, and there was nothing he could do about it. He had tried everything, and there was nothing.

But the team thought his attitude was that he was trying to hide his feelings and, well, in part he was. He didn't deny that it still made him scared and angry to think of all the opportunities and moments that were gone along with your memory, but he was aware that showing himself that way in front of you wouldn't bring you any good. Unlike him and completely unaware of the truth, the team believed he was in denial. They believed that Bucky had been trying for months to avoid dealing with his feelings and that at any moment he would break down and suffer fighting the horrible reality.

Bucky had only responded to their unconscious attacks and questions with the truth, but it seemed the team was in more denial than he was.

“The doctor said the chances of her regaining her memory were high. Don't worry.” Steve patted Bucky on the shoulder to accompany his words, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“Steve, I'm not wor-”

“And she'll adjust well to the routine in this place. You know we'll be constantly keeping an eye on her and making sure she's okay, right?”

“I'd rather you stay away,” Bucky mumbled, his teeth grazing at the discomfort.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

Bucky kept his distance at first. He wanted to first meet and see how you were adjusting to your new home and how you related to others. Besides, he was also a little nervous about talking to you. You had done it before, yes, at the hospital. You had introduced yourselves and asked him a few questions when he was around. But when Bucky finally confessed to you that he was your husband, it was as if something had disturbed the gravity around the both of you. Clearly Bucky was quick to notice that change in your behavior and began to pull away trying to give you your space and not overwhelm you, unlike others.

You had some memories with him, Bucky was sure. You had lost the memory of about seven years, and you had come to the team ten years ago. That would have been good for him and your relationship, except that in the beginning neither of you could stand the other.

That's right. You two hated each other's guts. And Bucky eternally regretted waiting until the fifth year of meeting you to make his feelings known to you. Because, at that point, all you remembered about him were his stinging comments and his cold, calculating stares. When he remembered the things he had said to you to hurt you on purpose, he would cringe and his body would tremble in rejection.

Before confessing, he had thought about the possibility of keeping everything hidden, maybe try to win your trust again and suddenly have what you had before. And maybe the Bucky of six years ago would have done that, wouldn't have hesitated to keep the truth hidden just to guide you down the path he wanted to walk. But the Bucky who was there, in year ten, couldn't look you in the eye and try to keep something in the dark. He knew it wasn't right and that lies usually backfired on the person telling them. Besides, ever since you had decided to try to have a relationship, you had made him promise never to keep anything from you, no matter how stupid or horrible it was. You had been in such a toxic relationship with him before that you only wanted to look out for each other's welfare. A relationship based on trust and communication was a good relationship.

And Bucky wanted to keep his promise, even if you couldn't remember it.

So he was keeping his space, but he was always aware of what you were doing. And that's why he noticed every time you would give him a questioning look and then pull back and focus your attention on something else when you noticed he was looking at you.

Bucky wasn't sure if it was a good or bad idea what he was doing. He could just walk up and talk to you, maybe you were willing to do that. Or you might think he was crazy for watching you from afar like he was an eagle and didn't want you near him under any circumstances. Bucky didn't know what to do, and asking the team wasn't in his options, so he just decided to do what he thought best.

One day, a couple of weeks after you returned to the Complex, Bucky met you casually. Really, casually.

He had spent a whole week in constant stress so he hadn't even been able to get near the side of the Complex where you were staying. He had been assigned an undercover mission and it had turned out to be a little more complicated than it seemed at first. There were too many fights involved in the end, but he had achieved his goal.

The day he arrived at the Complex he took a long shower and a long nap. It was the least he deserved. After waking up, he went to the kitchen to make himself a coffee because it was just getting light, when he saw you leaning on the kitchen counter.

You froze at the same time he did. Bucky wasn't expecting the first person he would meet to be you, he didn't even know you were already freely leaving your safe place, but life is full of surprises, apparently. Bucky noticed your wary gaze on him, how the cup you held in your hands had been halfway to its destination and how your body moved only to breathe.

He moved, continuing with what he had gone to do, despite feeling that captivating electricity coursing through his body and asking him to move closer to you. Moving his eyes away from yours felt like a sin and his body was almost reluctant to follow the directions in his head.

Bucky finally approached the coffee pot to notice the steaming liquid coming out of it. So, it was coffee that was in your cup.

He was a little hesitant to drink from the coffee you had made because he didn't know how you would react to his intrusion, so he decided to move to the other side of the kitchen where the drawers were and grab the first cereal to be found.

“You can have some of that coffee,” you spoke to him suddenly, resuming your movements and he could barely turn to look at you over his shoulder. “Clint did it.”

Bucky followed your eyes moving all over the instance, anywhere but on his, and even though he felt he'd had a year to prepare for this, it seemed completely insufficient: nothing would have prepared him to ever again hear your nonchalant voice directed at him the way you spoke to him before you decided to become a couple. Bucky thought that those years had been buried in the back of his head, that the situation you were going through wouldn't bring back memories he preferred to keep hidden, but thinking about doing it was easier than actually doing it.

He moved his body almost groaningly until he was back in front of the coffee pot next to you. Hearing you talking to him like that had knocked his mood to the floor. He wasn't too high either, that mission was both physically and mentally exhausting, but he was more relieved to be back at the Complex.

“I didn't see you this week,” you spoke again as Bucky thought you were about to leave the kitchen. He moved his head to look at you, his expression indescribable, you could barely describe him as dumbfounded and bewildered.

Bucky mumbled a few words before responding. “I was on a mission. Far away.”

“Mhm,” you hummed in response, and Bucky nearly melted at the sound. Even though he recognized your demeanor, because that was how you acted before when you wanted to get information out of him or when talking to someone you suspected was hiding something from you, he couldn't help but rejoice at finding little gestures that made him reminisce about the good times he had with you.

With more encouragement, Bucky poured his black coffee under the umbrella of your expectant indifference.

“How have the others been?”

He moved to stand in front of you with the cup in his hands, and could notice how subtly your shoulders slumped a little. He couldn't define whether in calm or ennui.

“It's been… complicated.”

“Are they very insistent?”

You turned your head to look at him, and Bucky nearly choked on the sip of coffee he'd taken. He thought you'd keep visually ignoring him and not turn to look at him like he was a life preserver in the middle of the ocean.

“They're horrible,” you barely whispered, your head bobbing closer in complicity. Far gone was your mask of coldness the moment you found someone to complain to about how terrifying those weeks at the Complex had been. “I feel like I can't move my hair without having someone behind me asking me if I want my hair combed for me or if I was moving it because I had a headache. Anything I do is over-analyzed and that's so…ugh, so frustrating.”

Bucky definitely didn't expect you to spew all those words in front of him, but he did understand how overwhelmed you must be and mentally berated himself for agreeing to you having visitors from the moment you arrived. His idea was that you would have time to clear your thoughts and to adjust to that new place on your own, but somehow the team managed to convince him to let them in from time to time to greet you because being alone too much all of a sudden wasn't good for your sanity.

He should have known better knowing how clingy and pushy his teammates were.

When he was around you, they behaved, but they seemed to pretty much take advantage of the times when he wasn't around to behave as they pleased.

“I hate being treated like I'm a piece of glass. I understand well what happened and its aftermath and that it affected them too much, but I can still live peacefully without needing them to do things for me. I'm not incapacitated or anything like that.”

“I understand.”

Wow, Bucky, couldn't you have said something much more interesting?

“I'm fine,” you continued speaking as Bucky noticed how your eyes were lost in the distance in the kitchen. “I really feel fine. But they're always on me like trying to convince me otherwise and talking about my memories every other time.”

Bucky furrowed his brow and suddenly felt the sting in his chest from anger. There was only so much Bucky had in life to control his temper and that was you. With anything else, Bucky was nothing but walking indifference. He didn't care about the fights the others on the team had, he didn't care about the decisions that had to be made, he didn't care about what the majority chose, he didn't care about the discussions about the rooms when they had to stay in hotels. But when it came to you, there was no stormo chaser that could withstand his tempestuous attitude.

The limit was that the others could get angry, fight and argue about whatever they felt like, but the moment that started to affect you, Bucky didn't hesitate to step up and shut them all up. That was one of the reasons he was the leader of the mission most of the time. It was easy to recognize his leadership ability, even if he tried to hide it through that window of indifference. He was very objective when it came to making tough decisions and was very capable of organizing whatever chaos had been created around him.

And, at that moment, Bucky felt he had reached his limit. He had let himself be convinced by the team to bring you here to carry out your recovery contrary to what he had thought of leaving you in the city with one of your closest friends that you remembered very well; and then he had let himself be convinced to let them invade your space when it was clear that they were not going to know how to behave around you and would overwhelm you just like they did in the hospital.

Bucky couldn't understand how he could have made such bad decisions about you. He felt he had completely failed you as your husband by not giving you a truly safe place in which to heal.

“I'll tell them not to come back,” Bucky told you after a few seconds in silence and your blank stare focused on his suddenly elated face.

“What?”

Bucky met your gaze. “This wasn't the way I wanted you to spend your recovery, and it's certainly not the way you should spend it. You should be calm, but I don't see that happening. I'm sorry.”

You watched his face, transfixed. Bucky looked quizzical for a few seconds at your dumbfounded stare and no response. His eyes moved around your face trying to figure out if he had said something wrong… until it all clicked in his head.

You didn't remember.

Yes, it seemed stupid because he'd been living with that thought all last year, but apparently he had to remind himself. For a moment, he had gotten so lost, not only in the familiarity of your ramblings and gestures, but also in the annoyance and self-reproach, that he had forgotten for a few measly minutes that you didn't remember. You didn't remember that protective side of him. You didn't remember how much he loved to sit and listen to you talk about others, good things or bad things. You didn't remember how much it made him angry when other people made you the least bit uncomfortable or angry. You didn't remember the way he showed that appreciation, that love for you.

That attitude Bucky was giving you was completely new to you. Surely it was like seeing a different person. Bucky mentally cringed at the thought that you must be thinking of him as a jerk who acted like a teenager and said hurtful things just for the fun of it.

At that moment, he would have liked to take more time when you were in the hospital to talk to you, so he could get to know you and you could see that he was different and not the same person he was six years ago. But at that time he felt so scared. Just the memory of your face contorting when he had told you he was your husband still sent shivers down his spine.

One thing he couldn't deny was that he had lived constantly, even up to that moment, in fear of rejection. When you had reacted that way that time at the hospital, Bucky had at first turned away in fear. But then he had tried to be nice to you, as if nothing had happened. However, he could tell that it was much more strange for you to see the flowers on the table in the room or to have him bring you lunch because the hospital food was so simple. It seemed that no matter what he did, that reluctant expression on your face would not go away.

Then, he stopped trying. He would only show up in your room when you were sleeping, in the daytime or at night, and when everyone gathered for the doctor's checkup. Bucky didn't know how to get back into your life and the very idea was driving him to the brink of panic again. So he tried to have that moment of enlightenment again, but all he got in response was that maybe he should continue to keep his distance.

At that point, Bucky didn't know what to do. It wasn't your fault to react that way because it wasn't what you remembered about him, that wasn't wrong. He felt again that incessant need to pull away and go back to watching over you from a distance, because the look you had given him was so similar to the others that it was scary. Too scary. The possibility that he could never get back even half of what you two had before danced around him like a taunt. The ring on his ring finger too heavy to bear.

“Thank you…? I think,” you replied at last, but without changing the quizzical look on your face.

“I'll talk to Steve,” Bucky announced, a little more impassively than he had planned, and took the cup tightly in his hands with the thought in his head to get out of the kitchen so he wouldn't keep invading your space.

He felt your gaze follow him until he was near the living room.

“Hey, wait.”

He heard your footsteps following him and planted his feet on the floor. He gave you a questioning look over his shoulder, waiting for you to say something. Bucky watched you move from side to side, shifting your weight on your legs, a clear sign of your nervousness. When you looked directly at the contents of your cup instead of his eyes as you spoke, he couldn't help a small smile.

“I'm sorry about that. It's just… This is too weird for me. I wish I could get close and talk to you because that's what my body wants, but my head keeps me alert and defensive when you're around. What I remember about you is not…”

You cocked your head and twisted your lips. Bucky thought that had been the kindest way to describe it.

“You don't have to apologize.”

“But I do have to!” you exclaimed, scowling at him. “It's been a year and you've been nothing but kind to me. You've given me space and time, unlike others-”

Bucky nodded strongly at your words.

“-but I've given you nothing in return.”

He relaxed his features, letting the tension dissipate away from his body. He momentarily pushed away his worries and negative possibilities because you stood there in front of him with such a contrite expression on your face that it caused him physical pain.

“You don't owe me anything, Y/N, okay? What I do I do because I want to, not because I'm expecting anything in return from you. If you feel like you need another week before you talk to me, that's fine, take it. If you feel it's a month, six months, a year, it doesn't matter. Take as much time as you need. Either way, anytime, you know where to find me. I'm not going anywhere.”

Bucky hadn't missed the journey of emotions that roared across your face and he was genuinely happy about it. It had been a while since he had seen you feel not only comfortable but joyful around him, that he had begun to think that those moments would only live on in his memory from now on. But, perhaps, that might not have been the case…

“Thank you, Bucky,” you murmured after sighing, and if Bucky hadn't been so attentive to you he surely would have missed it. Along with the small smile you gave him that would be enough to keep his sanity afloat for the rest of the month.

You saw him give you a small nod and then begin to walk away, leaving as the sun's rays began to appear through the living room window. A strange feeling settled in your chest, and it seemed like a turf battle was taking place between your reluctance to accept that Bucky had changed and that you two had taken your relationship four levels higher than expected, and this new feeling that was akin to hope. You could barely recognize it.

You didn't know how you were going to begin to deal with the reality that you were married to Bucky, but you suddenly felt a little less afraid to know the history of the decisions that had brought you to this point.

You remembered the wedding ring that was tucked away in your nightstand drawer and how it shone just as brightly as the one you saw on Bucky's finger. Maybe you felt a little closer to being ready to start dealing with it.

the voices in my head (7)

series summary: you woke up from a long coma with no memory of a part of your life only to be told by your teammates that you're married to the man you hated seven years ago. even though that seemed to be the only problem, as time goes on you're realizing there's a lot more history and mystery behind the accident that left you in medical care for months. blackouts, more memory loss, mistrust and a strange man who seems to be connected to everything. every day it gets harder to trust anyone around you, but you won't stop until you can finally uncover the truth behind the accident.

chapter summary: you try to get answers, but not everything is as it seems. you may actually be living a lie.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +5k

warnings: bad words and descriptions of blood. a lot of confusing answers too.

note: ok guys. heres the next part in this series and i dont even know what happened. im kind of a let it happen writer, so i just started writing this chapter with what i had in my drafts, and the suddenly everyting came to life and started to write itself. like i dont know whats happening anymore, 80% of this wasnt planned. BUT i dont dislike the way this one turned out. im actually happy because it filled a gap in the plot that i'd had for some time and didn't know how to handle. as you may have seen in my reblogs, i dont tend to plan things out, i just start writing and the characters will tell me their stories. so, i just hope you guys love and ejoy this chapter!! know feedback is alwas appreciated! and i hope you end up as confused as i am. love you all!

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Bucky was in a haze. His fingers were trembling and he felt his heart racing to get out of his chest. He didn't know what he was doing, but he let his body guide him because there had to be a reason for all that, for all that fuss, for all that suffering. His feet hurt, he didn't even know how long he had been running for, but not even the rest of the team following behind him had made him stop until now. (Maybe they didn't want to stop him either.)

Maybe he was already in the middle of that city. There were too many buildings, sounds of car horns, the hurried footsteps of people walking past him, tapping his shoulder, not even looking at him as if he didn't even deserve to be recognized by a stranger before staggering his whole world.

Bucky wasn't sure he deserved many things anymore. He used to think it was all a gift, he used to think that after so much pain he was finally collecting happiness and peace of mind. He thought he really deserved it. But maybe he didn't. If all that had happened behind his back, if he had allowed it, if he hadn't even suspected it? Did he even deserve a look?

No, maybe he deserved those rubs, the footsteps on his boots, the coffee on his jacket. Maybe he deserved to feel that pain, that burning. Maybe it was the least he could do, it was the only thing he could give back, because in his foggy mind he couldn't think of what else he could do. He deserved that pain and more because it surely didn't even compare to yours, nor did it come close on the heels of everything you had to do.

There was a moment when he thought that had he had the chance to handle that damned time gem hanging around Strange's neck he would have done it without hesitation, not for a single second, not like that damned Stephen had hesitated and in vain. Maybe things would have been different, maybe everyone would be different now? Maybe you would hate him now. Maybe now the pain would be bearable. Maybe he wouldn't walk the streets of that city that had taken everything from him thinking the world had just fallen on his shoulders.

“Bucky, you're not going to find him,” he heard Carol speak to his left side, but his mind erased the memory.

He was alone walking through the city. He couldn't even remember why his white shirt felt sticky against his skin.

Whatever had happened that morning seemed to have been momentarily erased.

Bucky stopped.

What was he doing there?

The sound of morning stress suddenly stunned him. He shifted on his feet to look around, to see how everyone was still moving, how the sun was still shining and the clouds were racing across the sky, seeing how everything was still the same while for him everything had stopped.

“Where is she?” Bucky thought he was asking a voice in his head, a figment of his imagination, but the hand on his shoulder had to be real. It felt real.

-

Bucky didn't say much for much of the morning. You watched him, stoic and lost in thought from time to time, barely shaking his head in acknowledgement when you told him something. He had given no answer to your questions and as much as you wanted to keep asking, as much as you wanted to insist, something in his eyes prevented you from doing so.

So you spent a good part of the day like that, with Bucky at your side, reluctant to let go of your arm, not encouraging you to do anything else. Everything that had happened that day, all your crazy conjectures and theories slowly faded from your head as you relaxed by his side, letting go of the accumulated tiredness you'd felt since the day everything started to change.

And you had several strange dreams, surrounded by destruction, blows that felt strangely real, full of tears and full of suffering.

But one of them stood out from the others.

You were somewhat confused to see Bucky that morning. His mission was supposed to take at least a few more days and you had already made up your mind that you wouldn't see him for a while. Getting used to it was easy though, but you preferred to ignore that reality.

He passed right in front of you, walking as if it was nothing, ignoring your presence completely. Not that you were expecting anything different either. No, of course you weren't. After the way things left off when he left, you didn't expect him to forgive you so soon.

You could barely let out the air you were holding when he disappeared down the hall.

“What's wrong?” you heard Natasha's voice.

You turned around startled. She had planted herself next to you, her uniform dirty and heavily bloodstained.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it's not mine.” Natasha waved her hand in a nonchalant gesture.

“Why did you guys come back so soon?”

“The track was a dead end. There was nothing there.”

“It was a trap.”

“Yeah,” Natasha sighed, turning her head to see Steve getting off the Quinjet. “She knew we were going. She couldn't wait to see our stupid faces.”

You clicked your tongue. “How come she's always three steps ahead of us?”

“We've been wondering the same thing.”

Natasha had started walking toward the end of the hallway and you were about to follow her until you ran into a familiar face on one side of Steve.

“What's he doing here?”

Natasha didn't answer you, and when you turned to see her she had a tired expression on her face.

“Well since we've been going on so many missions without a good result, the UN panel that controls us is going to start limiting our outings.”

“What? But she's completely unpredictable!”

“I know, believe me we tried to talk to him. They contacted us since we were coming back. They're very adamant, and it's not like we can do much about it.”

Natasha giving up just like that didn't give you much hope. You watched Steve listen to Secretary Ross with his hands on his hips and a droopy expression. He didn't seem to agree much, but he couldn't say no either. Surely more than anyone else he was the one who was having the hardest time with the whole Accords thing.

You wanted to think for a moment that that was the real reason Bucky had ignored you when he arrived and not because of the discussion you two had that was overheard by half the building about three days before. The subject of the Accords was also a hard subject for him, but more than anything else because of the bombing, because of everything that had happened after that. The fight he blamed himself for every chance he got and the concede. They had been able to go far but not far enough. You knew Bucky spent many days thinking about all that.

But hey, besides that news he must still be pretty mad at you. At least that was something you could fix.

“So we're back to waiting,” you finally spoke up turning to look at Natasha. The woman barely twisted her lips in response.

“If they don't think this is a global threat, I don't know what one thing has to happen for them to let us do our job right,” Natasha walked down the hall with you trailing at her heels, a grimace on her face and a frown on her face. “Will it have to cost someone's life for them to notice?”

“Nat,” you furrowed your brow at her words. “We should think this is enough. Something worse could have happened. If Steve hadn't given up after the fight at the airport, where do you think they'd be now? And you? The group would have disbanded. We could have been pushed even harder, but the government and the countries were more condescending.”

“I wish it was enough for me. Thinking like that must bring you peace.”

You ran your tongue in front of your teeth with a disguised grimace. Natasha didn't notice as you watched her red hair and black suit as yoou approached the main hall of the Complex.

“I'm just thinking this way to ease the violent thoughts of you all. You know I didn't want to sign either.”

“But you did,” Natasha paused at the foot of the stairs. You could tell from there that Bucky was talking to Sam and Tony was meeting with Clint.

“It was all going to end very badly if I didn't. You know what they think of me. If I had gone with you and Steve they would have not only wanted to contain me but neutralize me. And you know they would've done it any way they could.”

Natasha's eyes flashed in recognition. You knew what was going through her head because you had been through it once before and it had been a horrible experience that had been burned into the minds of every one of your teammates. Especially Bucky's and yours.

“I wouldn't have let them near you,” she spoke, her voice soft and full of feeling.

“And I wouldn't have let you carry that for me.”

Natasha sketched a half-smile, shaking her head.

“I guess we'd both die trying to keep the other from dying.”

The conversation ended there and soon you were both in the living room near Clint and Tony. You watched them chat about the mission. You noticed the somber expression on Stark's face when Natasha told him that Secretary Ross was talking to Steve. You caught the moment when Clint sighed heavily and moved his hand to turn down the volume on the device in his ear, he did that every time someone mentioned something about the Accords or the Secretary. Sometimes even when someone talked about Germany. Clint was the most evasive of all on that subject.

Sam and Bucky were too far away for you to tell if they were listening the conversation, although considering that the latter had a super serum running through his veins, he probably had super hearing that allowed him to, even if it was against his will.

But despite the distance you could tell that his eyes were on yours. He was resting his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. His expression matched Tony's and you wondered how much it would cost you to get the two of them to sit down and talk about the things that had happened. Within that civil war, they were probably the ones who had had it the worst. But that was almost impossible, they both hated each other almost to death.

You were attracted by his gaze and started walking before you knew it. Sam stood up and gave you a nod of greeting as he passed you. Surely they had already spoken.

Bucky didn't stop looking at you until you took the spot where his friend had been.

“Are you okay?” you asked him, bringing your hand up to his right shoulder. He was too tense.

“Ross doesn't understand anything,” was what he replied, his voice laced with a hateful venom that sent a shiver down your spine.

“I know.”

“He's gonna get us killed. Him and that damn panel.”

“Bucky-”

“Nothing's going to make them understand until a massacre happens and that blood is on their hands.”

“Honey,” you stepped closer to your boyfriend, his body tensing even more, but moving closer to yours as if it were his nature. He straightened up and allowed you to fully embrace his right arm. “I think you can rest easy because you're doing your job and you're doing it well. I know you feel the helplessness, we all go through that. And I would love to tell you that we can change it and do something about it, but I can't. I can only remind you that you've been doing it right and you've been doing everything in your power to make it so. Ross and the panel are going to come to their senses at some point. They're going to understand what we're doing at some point and then we won't have to fight anymore.”

“I think you're the only one on the team who believes that,” Bucky tried to sketch a smile turning his face to look at you.

“Someone has to do it or you're always going to be like cats and dogs.”

“Yeah, you're the one who brings balance to this place,” his beady eyes didn't leave yours. “To me, too.”

You felt a sting behind your eyes and your chest compressed.

“Bucky, I'm sorry-”

“No, leave it.”

“No! It was my fault and I spoke to you too ugly-”

“I already forgave you, Y/N. Don't keep talking.”

“Don't do that. Let me tell you-”

Bucky reached up to plant a kiss on your lips. You reached up to move back a little, but his hand went around your waist and he pulled you tighter against him. He moved his lips over yours as if it had been months since the last time he did it, gentle, taking his time, savoring every second he could. Your hands cradled the sides of his face, kissing him back with the same intensity he gave you.

When he pulled away, you were breathing heavily.

“I said leave it.”

“You're mean.”

He moved closer and gave you another quick peck before settling back in. His eyes didn't leave yours even though your body was beginning to lose the warmth he'd given you. At that moment you thought you could spend your whole life like this and you would be entirely happy.

Apparently Bucky thought the same thing.

“Marry me.”

“What?” you exclaimed, an expression of surprise making its way across your features.

Bucky smiled at your half-open mouth.

“Marry me, Y/N.”

“Bucky…”

“I never wanted to spend the rest of my life with someone as much as I do with you. I can't even remember what it was like to live before you anymore. So, yeah, that's it, marry me.”

It had been at least about two hours and you couldn't stop thinking about it. It felt too real to have been just a dream.

You had woken up in a room all alone. There wasn't a single trace that Bucky had been there with you at any time. For a moment you thought maybe you'd dreamed all that day, but you could still feel the strength of Bucky's arms around your figure. You could still feel his breath in your ear every time he mumbled an apology from the bottom of his heart, not really knowing what he was apologizing to you for.

You felt it as real as that kiss. Like that emotion when in your dream he proposed to you. Maybe it wasn't a dream, you'd been married after all. But how could you remember that now? What had changed?

And that conversation with Natasha…

You heard the bedroom door open and a few seconds later Bucky appeared in front of you. You felt your stomach churn.

“You're awake,” he commented as he approached the bed. He set down a mug of hot liquid on the nightstand before sitting down across from you, and you stood a little while longer watching the smoke billow out. “You must have a lot of questions.”

You turned to look at him. He looked better than the last time you had seen him. Calmer and more serene.

“Go ahead. Ask.”

Even though yes, you did indeed have too many questions, at that moment you went blank. You felt like your heart was going to pound out of your chest with how fast it was beating, so hard it was thundering against your bones. With sweaty hands you tried to arrange your hair in a carefree gesture, but you were sure you had a desperate grimace on your face.

So much had happened in the last few days, and there was even something you still hadn't told Bucky…

Sighing, you decided to let out the first thing that came to mind.

“What are the Accords?”

You noticed Bucky's face process your question, his face contorting in confusion. “The Accords?”

For a moment you thought it wasn't true, and you were giving yourself the nod thinking you'd just had a meaningless dream, until Bucky spoke again.

“Where did you hear about that?”

You frowned. “Is it real?”

“Yes,” Bucky nodded quickly. “The Sokovia Accords. It's a document signed by a large number of countries that allows a United Nations panel to monitor the activities of the Avengers.”

That made sense according to what you remembered from that dream. So it could be true…

“How did you propose to me?”

Bucky frowned even more than the previous time, and you knew that maybe those weren't the questions he was expecting, but you needed to know.

“Uhm,” Bucky took a moment before answering. “I had just returned from a mission where we were ambushed. I was nearly killed. Maybe I had a moment of lucidity, I don't know, all I knew was that I'd never felt so scared about not being able to be with you. So I came in, we talked and I just did it.”

“Did anything happen while you were coming in from the mission, before you made the proposal?”

“Mmm, yeah, something did happen,” Bucky looked more than confused somewhat suspicious. “The Secretary of State is like the spokesman for the panel I mentioned to you. That day coming back from the mission he contacted us to tell us that we would have to start getting out less and plan better plans, long story short. I was very angry. Too angry. And you and I… Well, we had argued before I left so we didn't talk as soon as I got there. But yeah, that happened.”

So it was a memory.

“Y/N? Why are you asking me these things?”

“You told me to ask.”

“Yeah, well,” Bucky pursed his lips. “I didn't expect you to ask me those questions.”

“Why is there a dome around the Complex?”

“Well,” Bucky cleared his throat. “Generally speaking, in the beginning it was to keep the military from intervening in the Complex because… let's just say we did something against the rules of the Accords for a while. Then we decided to keep the dome to prevent him from finding us.”

“Him? Who is he?”

“They call him The…”

For a moment you stopped hearing Bucky, though you could see his mouth was still moving. A high-pitched whistling filled your hearing. It was loud and painful. You moved your hands to the sides of your head to try to isolate yourself from the sound, but you felt it coming from inside you.

“… are you okay? Y/N?”

You could hear him again. That was weird.

“What happened?”

“I don't know,” you moved your jaw to uncover your ears, but in a second it seemed like nothing had happened. “I felt a ringing in my ears, but too loud.”

Bucky arched an eyebrow, scanning your face. You could tell the concern on his face and it compressed your chest.

“I'm fine, what were you saying?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, go on.”

Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, his eyes still detailing your features as a precaution. Finally he sighed and shook his head in assent.

“Well, the man you most likely saw on television was…”

You lost your hearing again and a second after you saw Bucky's mouth move without a sound, the high-pitched beeping returned. That time it was so loud that you couldn't help but scream even though you couldn't hear anything. You felt Bucky's hands on your forearms as you covered your ears again, but it seemed to increase the beeping and along with it your vision tried to go white. You thought you saw a hand outstretched in front of you.

You were about to lose your mind until you finally found silence again.

You had leaned forward and Bucky had leaned over you.

“Bucky?”

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

You straightened up and he quickly did the same. His eyes desperately searched your face and body for something.

You felt dizzy all of a sudden, and when you reached up to massage your temples that's when you saw the blood.

So did Bucky.

You brought your hands to the sides of your face and it felt wet. For a moment you felt like you were going to throw up.

Bucky took your face in his hands and turned it sideways, looking at the blood that seemed to have come out of your ears. You couldn't look away from your blood-stained hands. For some reason, you felt a strange familiarity in your chest.

“Bucky…” you mumbled without looking up. “What happened? The day of the accident, what the fuck happened?”

“Y/N, are you-”

“Say it,” you raised your head. His frown made you uncomfortable.

“I don't think-”

“Tell me, Bucky.”

It looked like Bucky thought he knew what was going on and didn't want to subject you to it, but you'd seen something and you felt that's where the answer was.

“Say it and don't stop talking.”

Your features were hard, you didn't give a single space for doubt. And Bucky sighed when he realized he couldn't convince you.

“The accident was because of…”

There it was again. Louder and angrier than the previous two times. It seemed to want to berate you for some reason. So much anger was overwhelming. The sound was deafening. The pain was uncontainable. You couldn't help but shout as you felt like you were being ripped in two.

And then, you saw it. A hand stretched out in front of you.

Writhing in pain, you gripped it tightly.

And you opened your mouth to take a big breath of air.

Everything was white around you. To your left, right, above and below. There wasn't a single shadow or a sign that so much brightness was coming from somewhere. The white seemed to stretch on forever when you started walking, because there was no sign of even corners or stairs. It was a simple white plane.

You walked as if that was the solution. As if at some point you were going to come across something that would give you the answer, but there was simply nothing.

And when you finally stopped, you heard it. You recognized it instantly.

What are you doing?

You moved sideways, looking for the source of that voice, but there was no one even miles away. You couldn't see a single speck.

“Who are you?” you exclaimed angrily to no one in particular.

I'd already told you.

“No! Drop the fucking mystery, who the fuck are you?”

Silence followed your question.

“Didn't you want me to trust you? You told me they were the bad guys.”

They are, the voice replied.

“Then prove it. Tell me who you are. Let me trust you.”

There was silence for several seconds, and in between all the emptiness you swore you could go crazy. Fine, and you were already hallucinating things.

But then… footsteps.

You turned suddenly.

There was a man. Very short hair, with a big beard that hid his whole jaw. Dark clothes, a jacket and a baggy jean. He was leaning against something, with his hands inside his jean pockets, even though no matter how hard you looked you never found an object there. He must have been handling what was going on here. His face was barely minimally familiar to you, but not enough to make you suspect him.

“Who are you?”

“You can call me Nathaniel.”

Nathaniel? He didn't sound remotely familiar.

“You were the one who did that thing?”

“What thing, Y/N?”

“The beeping.”

“Ah. I couldn't risk getting your head filled with lies. I told you I'd take care of it.”

“And you had to hurt me in the process?”

“My apologies. It was the only way.”

“Are you seriou? Bringing me here was the only way too?”

You watched the man, Nathaniel, undo his serene expression for the first time to frown at you. He moved to approach you and you couldn't stop your body from shifting away from him.

“Don't you know you're the one doing this? You called me here. This is your invention.”

“What? No. That's impossible. I didn't… I'm not…”

You looked around. It couldn't be you. You didn't even know where you were while Nathaniel could sit comfortably waiting for you. It couldn't be your doing.

“This is your mind, Y/N. Don't you recognize it?”

Miles of emptiness greeted you as you turned to survey the place. That shit was impossible.

“Well, it's missing some memories, sure.”

You frowned and turned to look at him. He seemed to have his hands folded behind his back and he had that calm, almost expressionless face again. He looked like someone who inspired confidence, you didn't doubt that if people looked at him they would surely believe him because that was the aura he had around him. Still… the tightness in your chest wouldn't go away.

“But it's still yours.”

“You can… bring my memories back?” you weren't entirely sure why you asked, it just popped in your head, out of nowhere. It wasn't as crazy as it sounded taking in consideration that he was the beeping in your ears. He definitely could do something. Maybe it was your subconscious.

You noticed when his eyes twinkled as he shook his head. A small smile crept onto his face, as if he'd been waiting for that question.

“Well, I can definitely try.”

You felt a relief sweep through your entire body.

“You're on my side, right?” your cautious side came to the fore.

“Of course, Y/N. I've been trying to help you all this time. It's a little hard, but I've tried.”

“It's hard?”

“Yes, it's just that…” the man, Nathaniel, averted his gaze from yours as if he was thinking about whether or not to continue. When he looked back at you his expression was much softer, more real, “You're too far away. I can't do much like this.”

“And where are you?”

Nathaniel smiled, “Even if I told you, you couldn't look for me. You can't get through the dome.”

You clicked your tongue. You had the chance to finally remember everything in the palm of your hand and you wanted to take it with all your might. Because you had already realized that this man was very powerful and that, in his delusions of helpfulness, he wouldn't let anyone in the group tell you the truth. If he wouldn't even let Bucky do it, he wouldn't let anyone but him do it. And you had a bad feeling, but what else could you do?

“Then you'd have to come to where I am.”

Nathaniel nodded slightly. “Just tell me where you are and I'll come get you.”

“I'm at the Avengers Complex,” you spoke after a sigh. “In Washington.”

The man in front of you sketched a smile, but rather than reassuring you it was more nerve-wracking.

“Ah, you see. I told you you couldn't trust them.”

“What are you talking about?”

Nathaniel resumed walking, his steps getting closer and closer to you.

“You're not at the Complex or anywhere near Washington.”

“What? But…”

“They've got you trapped. They won't let you out. They won't even tell you where you really are.”

You shook your head in denial. What he was saying made no sense. You could literally see the city from the roof of the building. You had even gone out one of those days and toured the city, how was it possible that you weren't in Washington?

Although… You weren't even sure what Washington was really like. You had no memory of that city in your head. You had never seen the city anywhere else. You were just told you were there and assumed that what you saw was that city. But what if it wasn't?

“Find out where you are, Y/N,” Nathaniel spoke again while you were still lost in your head. Almost at the same time, the ground began to shake. “Figure it out and come back and tell me where I can find you and get you out of there.”

The ground shook vehemently, but the man in front of you didn't look as scared as you did. He still had that calm expression, his hands in his pockets and his head cocked to one side. He was looking at you as if he longed for something from you.

You no longer had the slightest idea what was going on.

And then you heard other footsteps approaching fast.

“Y/N!”

You recognized her instantly, but instead of being reassured, you were frightened.

You turned around to find Wanda Maximoff trying to get closer to where you were, running through the white debris falling from somewhere above.

“They're going to try to get you away from me,” Nathaniel spoke, and you moved to look back at him.

“Get away from him!” Wanda exclaimed.

“They don't want you to know the truth. Even if you think they're going to tell you the truth, they're not. It's a lie. It's always been a lie.”

“Y/N!”

“They didn't even tell you where you really are.”

“Shut the fuck up! Y/N, don't listen to him!”

“They've been keeping things from you for a year. They didn't even want to tell you that you have powers.”

“Don't listen to him!”

“If you hadn't brought it up to Bucky Barnes, he never would have told you.”

The way his name came out of his mouth was disgusting. You never wanted him to mention his name ever again.

“Think about that,” Nathaniel finished and watched beside you as the woman kept running trying to dodge the falling debris for some reason; mind you, it wasn't falling where you were, just where she was stepping. “Goodbye, Wanda, see you soon.”

When you turned around, the man was gone, and when you turned around again, Wanda crashed into you with a thud.

You opened your mouth to take a breath of air. You felt your body heavy. The first thing your eyes registered was color. You were no longer on that white plane, in your mind, you were back in the room.

But you were not alone.

Sound came slowly to your hearing, as you could barely differentiate between the faces that peered out to see you. You stopped when you found Wanda's reddish hair right in front of you. The hands at your temples must have been hers. It must have been the same as last time.

You sat up with a jolt and didn't disown, though you felt a whiplash of pain run from your back to your feet. You looked back at the woman who had gotten into your head sitting across from you. Your head had been in her lap. She looked as tired as you.

“Nothing he said is true,” was the first thing Wanda said, holding up her hands as if her sound of peace meant something to you.

“He?” you heard Bucky's voice, and that was the only thing that made you tear your gaze away from Wanda's clear eyes. “Who are you talking about?”

When you found Bucky, you clutched at his hands.

“Y/N,” Wanda spoke again. “What he said isn't true. He's a manipulator. He'll do anything to get you on his side, but you can't believe him.”

“So I'm supposed to believe you guys?” you almost spat the words out, an overwhelming fury roaring deep in your chest. You squeezed Bucky's hands as you turned to look at him. “Bucky, where are we?”

“Y/N, no,” Wanda interfered, but that only unleashed your fury.

“Shut up!” you raised your hand in her direction and the woman moved back a considerable distance on the ground, as if she had been pulled. You looked back at Bucky. “Tell me, where are we?”

Bucky was looking away, most likely to where Wanda was, but you didn't have time for that. You moved your hands to cradle Bucky's face and bring his eyes back to yours. That position brought back the memories of your dream and you felt a sharp pain in your head when that happened.

The moment Bucky turned to look at you, you felt as if a sword had cut you in two. An electrifying light and a bunch of scenarios where you had taken in Bucky's face in the same way.

“Y/N?”

You blinked rapidly, pushing those memories out of your mind. It seemed that every time an image of those appeared in your mind it was accompanied by excruciating pain.

“Answer me, please.”

“We're at the Complex, Y/N. In Washington,” Bucky replied and you felt his words were dirty.

“No,” you frowned and your hands over his face took on strength. “Where are we really?”

“Y/N,” Bucky looked confused, and for a moment you thought he had been lied too, until he moved his eyes to look behind you and without turning you knew who was there.

“Look at me,” you commanded between your teeth and his clear eyes focused solely on yours. “Tell me where we are.”

Bucky began to shake his head and reluctantly closed his eyes tightly. It seemed that simple question caused him physical pain.

“I-I can't. I can't tell you, Y/N.”

“Bucky, stop it. Don't talk.”

The order came from Carol Danvers, and you hated the way the man's face contracted as he heard it. You didn't want him to listen to her.

You wanted to turn to see her, you wanted to tell her that it wasn't her place to order him such things, that she was no one to talk to him like that. But Bucky's hands cupped your face before you could see her in your peripheral vision. His pleading eyes melted your heart and again you felt the pain shatter your head.

A hundred more scenarios where Bucky had looked at you that way.

“Y/N, relax, okay? We're going to talk, but I want you to calm down first, okay?”

You took a deep breath, trying to push through the pain, and nodded in his direction.

“Okay, all right, breathe with me.”

You noticed his chest inflate as he inhaled and mimicked his action. Also when he exhaled. And then again and again and again. Until you felt a little more serene and Bucky's eyes looked warmer.

Maybe it was what had happened with that man in your head, because of the stress you'd felt and the hopelessness when you woke up and felt for a moment that everyone was against you, but suddenly you felt so tired that you just laid your head on Bucky's shoulder and closed your eyes.

--

a/n: thank u so much for reading 💜

Taglist: @cjand10 @yallgotkik @ruffdog921 @coracal @its-just-kayy @pono-pura-vida @vampiresarezombies @kaz11283 @vicmc624 @calwitch

Bucky vs Bucky

Imagine time travel going wrong again and instead of 1 Bucky you have 2; one from the present and also one from the 40′s standing on the platform with him. 

At first, Bucky doesn’t really mind, curious to watch himself interact with others, giving him a glimpse of how he would have been had he not gone through years of torture from Hydra.  Everyone loved to see the happy, boyish soldier laughing and charming his way out of anything, giving Tony a run for his money when it came to making ladies swoon.

Bucky doesn’t mind until his finds himself flirting with you the most. 

Clearly any version of him is obsessed with you. 

At first, its amusing.

But its not anymore. 

“He’s a punk” Bucky huffed, narrowing his eyes at the way you giggled, biting you lip shyly when 40′s Bucky throws you a wink, the both of you mingling around the kitchen while everyone had gathered together for a movie night. 

“He’s you” Steve snorted, shaking his head at the way Bucky glared watching his past self pull all his signature moves, all working like a charm to make you warm and fuzzy. 

“Well she doesn’t have to like it” He pouted while you giggled again, playfully swatting his arm when he whispered something in your ear. 

Bucky nearly goes bonkers when he hears that punk call you doll and sugar, those sweet pet names he had reserved for you. 

“Hey sugar”

“She’s my sugar”

“Hey doll” 

“Only I can call her that”

“Wanna dance, pretty lady?”

“I’ll cut the other arm off, don’t touch her” 

Bucky rubbed his temples, almost hating himself for being such a ladies man, as you talked his ear off that night over how charming and handsome the soldier way. 

“I’m him, you know that doll” Bucky cocked an eyebrow while you kissed his grumpy face, loving how jealous he got over himself. Bucky never interfered in what happened in Tony’s lab but he started to visit regularly to check on the progress of the time machine, ready to send his ass back without a second thought. 

Sam had a field day, loving the sight of Bucky getting a taste of his own medicine of what it felt like when someone got all the pretty girls to themselves.

“Who is terminator mad at?”

“Himself”

“Who you so pissed at, tin man?”

“Me” 

With Bucky’s gentle threats, the time machine was fixed in no time, the bright eyed, cheeky soldier standing on the platform once again. 

“I’ll miss him” You pouted, giving a smile to Bucky from the 40′s as he blew you a kiss before a white light flashed, sending him back to the tight timeline. 

“Him? Really?” Bucky rolled his eyes while you grinned, throwing your arms around your boyfriends shoulders, playfully nipping at his bottom lip jutting out. 

“Yeah, him, you jealous baby?” You teased, yelping when he tossed you over his shoulder, giving you ass a swat. He took you straight to your shared bedroom, dropping you onto the mattress with a cocky smirk on his face, slowly crawling on top of you. As much as you loved the sweet innocent Bucky you had fun with for a few days, this Bucky made your mouth stop working and your heart beat faster, a dangerous little menace. 

“Let me remind you who you really belong to sweets” 

I live for the angst where Sharon/people call reader fat and make fun of her not knowing she's pregnant and Bucky protects the ever living fuck out of her because that's his gorgeous babymama. Bonus when Sharon is a jealous hoe. Throw in some protective avengers in there too. Breeding kink? Pregnancy kink? Also yes. He's a feral, horny little shit here, I apologize.

You huffed as you buttoned your jeans, the waistband sitting snugly around your waist, pressing into your skin a little bit more than usual. You dug through the closet to find one of Bucky's hoodies to slip on, loving the way the soft material engulphed you in his scent.

You weren't showing much yet but your body was certainly changing. Your sense of smell was heightened, constantly craving to be surrounded by your boyfriends smell. Your breasts were growing heavier and your clothes were more fitting than before. Cravings had already started. Your cheeks were a tad fuller and you were certainly glowing.

Bucky's super soldier serum was no joke.

You made your way down to make something for breakfast, grabbing a bag of peppermint tea to help with some of the nausea you had been experiencing. Sharon sauntered into the kitchen, still clad in her tiny workout clothes as she went to the fridge to grab a water bottle.

"Hey Sharon" You smiled as you poured water into your mug while munching on a cookie, grabbing another when your tummy rumbled. Baby Barnes clearly took after daddy, craving anything and everything sweet. And salty. And sweet and salty.

"Hey y/n" Sharon's eyes looked at you up and down, cocking her head slightly while you snacked, rummaging around for something else to eat. "Might wanna cut down a little there, huh" She teased, nodding to the potato chip you popped into your mouth.

"What?" You weren't sure you heard correctly, setting down the bag while she pursed her lips.

"Oh, nothing. I don't know how you eat that stuff, it's so greasy"

"Hm, yeah I guess" You gave her a weak smile, her words causing the insecurities you were already feeling about your body to creep back up again. You had a heavy feeling in your chest, seeing her flit about the kitchen, still perfectly toned. You shook those thoughts away, remembering the reason beautiful your body was different but it didn't do much.

The words still stung.

You decided to make your way back to your room to wait for Bucky to return from his morning jog with Steve, passing by one of the new trainees as you left the kitchen. Their hushed whispers caused you to stop in your tracks, your stomach dropping when you heard what they were saying.

"She's getting fat" Sharon snorted, hardly noticing you weren't out of ear shot while the trainee giggled along with her, nodding in agreement.

"Oh my God, you should've seen her at the gym yesterday. She was breathing so hard while running on the treadmill, I thought she was going to pass out. I don't even think she lasted 5 minutes before calling it quits" The trainee replied while Sharon rolled her eyes.

"She's gonna looked like a beached whale if she keeps eating like that, I swear she finished the entire row single handedly"

"I don't get what Bucky is doing with her. Honestly, I'm not even complaining. If she gets any fatter he's gonna leave her so maybe that'll make it easier for me" Sharon cackled along with the girl, the both of them snickering while swooning over the soldier. "He's so hot. I don't get what the hell he's doing with her, he can do so much better. Just wait till I show him, he'll see what he's missed out on"

You hardly realized you'd broken down into tears, slapping a hand over your mouth to keep from sobbing. You ran to your shared bedroom as fast as you could before anyone else saw you, closing the door and instructing FRIDAY to keep everyone out. You threw your jeans off, hating the way they were tighter on you, curling up under the covers, muffling your cries into the pillow.

-

Bucky ran his fingers through his short locks, making his way to the kitchen to grab some water after his run, smiling to himself knowing how much you loved to slink around him whenever he worked out. He loved how needy and cuddly you were, always burying your face into his neck of chest, trying to crawl up him like a tree.

"Where are you babygirl" Bucky called for you, expecting to see you in the perched in the kitchen with your pepper mint tea you'd recently been relying on, only to find a full mug without you in sight. Sharon and the new agent were still there, both of them eyeing him up and down, hoping to get his attention.

"Hey Sarge-

"Have you seen y/n" Bucky cut Sharon off, still looking around for you. Sharon rolled her eyes again, stating she hadn't seen you at all, since she'd spend her own morning working out. Bucky frowned, picking up the still hot tea, taking it up as he made his way to the bedroom.

"Sweeheart?" Bucky called for you softly, his heart racing when he hard soft sniffles from the other side of the door, his anxiety spiking when the door was locked. "Baby, are you okay? Can you open the door please?"

You hiccupped, trying to calm yourself down hearing Bucky's worried voice, quickly wiping your face before getting out of bed to open the door for him. His heart broke seeing his sweet girl with red rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks from crying, pulling you into him while shutting the door behind him.

"What's wrong mama" Bucky cooed, hugging you tightly while you whimpered in his hold, your insecurities at an all time high as he slipped his hand under your hoodie to stroke the bare skin of your back.

"Am I fat?" You whispered, worried the question would make realize you were less attractive, a fresh wave of tears streaming down your face.

"What?" Bucky pulled away, shock evident on his face while you stared at your feet, swallowing nervously.

"Please don't make me say it"

"Sweetheart, look at me" He held your face firmly in his hands making you look a him, "Why would you ask such a thing"

"I-I heard some people talking in the kitchen. Said I'm fat" If it wasn't for Bucky's enhanced hearing, he would've missed your fallen voice as you hide your face in his chest again.

"Absolutely not baby, who said that to you" Bucky held back on the red hot anger that surged through him, needing to comfort you first before raining hell on whoever hurt you.

"But I am Bucky!" You cried in frustration, pulling away from his hold. "It looks awful and I'm just going to keep getting bigger, I- I get if you don't find me as attractive-

"Hey, hey, stop, baby look at me" Bucky stopped your rambling, pulling you back into him, his hands holding your face firmly, "Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are to me? Hm? Do you have any idea how insanely attracted I've been to you ever since you told me you're pregnant?"

You shook your head, your heart jolting when he pushed himself against you, letting you feel the hardness between his legs, poorly contained in his joggers.

"Bucky-

"C'mere" Bucky threw your hoodie off before stripping his own clothes aside, his hard cock angry and leaking, desperate to fill you. "M'gonna show you baby"

He didn't give you a second to protest, carrying you over to bed and laying you down, spreading your legs apart, flicking his cock against your clit before tracing it down to your entrance and shoving himself home.

"Bucky!" you moaned, your legs moving on their own to wrap around his waist as he started to move, throbbing the entire time.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful mama, if you weren't pregnant already, we'd be in here all day till you were" Bucky groaned, grabbing and caressing your soft skin, already leaking into you. "You're gonna look so sexy when your belly gets all round, when these breasts get all big, they're gonna leak so much carrying my baby"

He moved to tug your swollen nipples between his pink lips, groaning at the thought of how sweet your milk would taste. Your back arched off the bed from how sensitive they were, your cunt fluttering around his cock, sucking him in deeper.

"I already know you're gonna get so swollen mama, its my baby in your belly. Did you forget its my cum that got you pregnant? Did you forget there's all that serum in my cock baby? I got you fuckin' pregnant, I'm you're babydaddy, I can't wait to see you get all tired, pouty and big with my super soldier baby"

"Oh fuck Bucky" you wailed, his words making your heart swell while your pussy nearly squirted as he hit that spongy spot deep in you, "P-please don't-don't stop"

"I won't stop baby, couldn't even if I wanted to, y'feel too good. Fuck, just knowing you're pregnant makes me so hard, can't believe I knocked suck a pretty little thing up, so lucky I got to stuff you nice and full"

Bucky started to fuck you harder till he headboard added new dents to the wall since the extra strength walls Tony added had nothing on Bucky's stamina and strength.

"Can't wait till everyone sees how pretty you're gonna look, m'gonna show you off, make sure everyone knows you're my girl, the love of my life, that you're carrying a piece of me in you"

"But- but what if they think-I won't look-" You're insecurities tried to sneak back in but Bucky wasn't having any of it, shutting ha down immediately.

"I'll fuck you in front of them. You think I give a fuck? I'll bend this pretty ass over, hold that perfectly round belly and stuff my cock in you till it leaks and makes a mess on the floor. I'll show them exactly what I did to get you that big in the first place, let them see how swollen my cock gets for you, goddamn, I'm gonna cum!"

Bucky fucked you hard and fast, letting you feel him in your stomach, not holding back one bit, his hand flying to grip onto the headboard.

"Bucky-Bucky gonna-I'm gonna-!OH GOD" You let out a silent scream, cumming around him without warning, your pregnancy making you extra sensitive, being able to orgasm without him even touching you.

"This sweet, soft fuckin' body" Bucky's pace faltered, sinking his teeth into your shoulder, "So good to me, so fuckin' good!, gonna cum mama, gonna give you more of my cream, gonna full that pussy up n'keep you pregnant forever, take it gorgeous, fuckin' beautiful, no one makes me hard like this, m'gonna cum so hard-fuck-fuck-FUCCCKKK M'CUMMING" Bucky roared against your neck, his cock bursting with ropes of cum, emptying his balls dry with sloppy thrusts until the sheets were soaked. You both panted, sweat covering your bodies, the sweet, primal smell of sex filling the room making your practically purr.

"You're the most beautiful thing to ever happen to me. I love you no matter what. You're stunning to me at any size, pregnant or not, don't you ever forget it" Bucky held you firmly, brushing his hands over your belly, pressing a kiss to your temple. You nodded, already feeling better, nervousness replacing your previous anxiety because you knew Bucky wouldn't let the incident slide.

"Who made you feel this way baby" His voice was gentle but he wasn't leaving any room for negotiation.

"Just leave it Bucky" You shrugged, not wanting to make it a big deal but he shook his head.

"Can't do that sugar. No one makes my doll upset. You get some rest alright? let me make you lunch and we'll take a nap after"

You nodded, letting him slip his henley over your head, grabbing some comfy sweats for you to wear and throwing on his own clothes before heading down. You froze as you neared the kitchen seeing everyone else downstairs gathered for lunch which was a rare sight but there had been less mission recently meaning everyone was home. Bucky gave your hand a comforting squeeze, a stark contrast the to protective anger he felt again.

"Who the fuck spoke about y/n" Bucky stormed down, silence filling the room immediatly, everyone staring at each other in confusion while Sharon's face filled with guilt. "Well?!"

"What happened Buck, Steve and I were training this morning" Sam said honestly, while the others nodded in agreement, still looking at each other wondering what was going on. "You okay, sweetheart?"

"Well someone said something because she was upset in our bedroom and it happened today" Bucky had a good feeling about who caused your distress, knowing no one else would ever do such a thing but he wasn't about to call out Sharon ha easily, seeing her already squirming in discomfort.

"There's an easy solution to all this, give me a second" Tony typed something into his phone before calling for Friday, "FRIDAY can you play back the audio from this morning from when y/n was in here"

"Certainly, Mr. Stark"

The audio started with you greeting Sharon, followed by her comment and then the conversation she had with the new trainee. Shock and gasps filled the room, everyone glaring at the blonde with disgust while she shook her head, her stomach churning.

"I-I didn't say anything! That wasn't even me!"

"Really? Then who the fuck was it" Bucky spat, ready to jump her across the table, his fists balled at his side. Sharon huffed, biting her lip while Bucky continued to glare at her, still holding your hand softly in his. His anger only flared more, thinking about how she thought she could replace you.

"Fine! I said it! But was I wrong? She is bigger than before" Sharon weakly defended herself, trembling when Bucky flinched, his self restraint growing thinner. Your eyes grew steamy, squeaking when Bucky moved to wrap his arm around your tummy, slipping it under your shirt.

"Cause she's pregnant. With my baby. I'm her babydaddy. I got her pregnant. You wanna know how? I fucked her. So hard. I didn't just fuck her, I made love to her cause she's my girl. Do you have any idea how attracted I am to her? How much cum there was? I didn't pull out once. She's so tight around my cock, its hard not to fill her up. Just kept going until my dick started to hurt and even then, I didn't wanna pull out"

Sam smirked at Bucky's utterly unhinged, x-rated rambling while Steve buried his red face in his hands. Tony cackled from the side while Nat patiently waited to get a chance to lay her hands on Sharon on Bucky's behalf.

"I-I get it, enough-

"You're delusional if you think I'd ever leave her for you. This is the love of my life. She's giving me a baby. She's beautiful. I chose this woman because she's special, she's this one I want to have a family with. You know what, you better get used to it cause I'm gonna get her pregnant again and again and it won't be hard considering how badly I constantly want her. In fact, we fucked just now, tell your little friend that"

"Oh my god" Sharon huffed, harshly wiping her tear streaked face, ready to throw up from embarrassment. She choked a sob, running out without looking back, Bucky's words tearing her apart. Everyone ignored her presence, immediately piling onto you with hugs, kisses and congratulations instead.

"Congratulations, babydaddy" Sam grinned, playfully nudging Bucky's shoulder making him blush, his arms still wrapped around your tummy. "And to you, little mama"

"I call god father" Steve announced, kissing your cheek before pulling Bucky into a tight hug, happy for his best friend and you.

Nat cracked a few knuckles, giving you a quick peck on the head, promising to celebrate later before following Sharon out, ready to hand her ass to her. The little trainee would be next.

"So what you're both saying is there's gonna be another super soldier running around here?" Tony's eyes lit up with excitement and a dash of fear when he remembered the baby would also be surrounded by idiots like Sam and Steve. He'd have to reinforce everything.

Immediately.

Come back to you

Bucky x pregnant!reader 

What happens when a time travel mission ends up with a version of Bucky from the 40′s standing on the time travel platform. 

Warnings: FLUFFFFF, sweet charming 40′s Bucky, time travel, teensiest bit of angst. 

-

“Buck, are you sure about this” You shuffled nervously by the platform Bucky was standing on, his latest mission requiring him to travel through a time portal. It wasn’t something he hadn’t done before but time travel was still tricky and the last thing you wanted was something happening to Bucky. 

Especially now. 

“I’ll be fine doll” Bucky assured you, holding onto a device Tony had made to gather information, the time stamp on the portal set to 1943. All he had to do was locate the coordinates he was given, scan a few documents and return to the present. Ever since you found out you were pregnant, Bucky pulled himself out of high risk missions but this seemed easy enough and he was the only one familiar with the location. “Promise I’ll come right back to you in just a few seconds babygirl” 

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This wasn’t even supposed to be smutty but I took it there. I was just thinking it’s so attractive to think of Bucky as being perfectly adjusted to the modern world and most of the time he just acts like he’s still figuring stuff out. Without a doubt, he’s been through so much but no one realizes just how smart he is and how quickly he picks up on things. 

Like people forget he is a trained assassin and he’s Sergeant Barnes, he moves with ease and stealth just about everywhere. He knows how to blend in and It didn’t take him long to figure out technology. Didn’t take long to pick up on the culture. He walks around with some shitty burner but has a proper phone few people know about. 

It catches you off guard when you expect him to be seated in the corner of the bar, nursing on a whiskey while talking to Steve but hes nowhere to be found. Everyone else is on the dancefloor, which definitely wasn’t Bucky’s scene. Your body doesn’t stop moving while your eyes scan the crowd, where would he- 

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Read at your own risk. 

Just imagine filthy nasty feral Bucky who loves how much cum he has for you. It evokes every kink under the sun. He’s cocky as hell because the load he blows is nearly endless. The serum makes his orgasms so much more intense, his cock swelling more than before, and he produces enough cum to stuff you full. 

I like to imagine, he didn’t even have the urge to cum until he first laid his eyes on you when he first walked into the compound. You stirred something in him and for the first time ever, his pants felt too tight, just a tad uncomfortable, the ache between his legs growing worse when you actually smiled at him.

It’s been years since he felt anything there but now the need is screaming at him and his primal urges take over, he needs his release so badly. 

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Bodyguard Bucky x Drunk reader

This little drabble is for an idea from one of my favorite angel babies, its SO CUTE. Might make a longer version of this at some point but for now: 

“Buckyyyy” You clung onto him like a koala, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the heady scent of his cologne. After a drink too many, you were happy to crawl into his lap, tipsy enough to happily wrap yourself around him, though still mostly aware of your surroundings. He remained silent, a classic grumpy scowl on his lips, keeping his eyes straight to the SUV. 

He wrapped his strong arms around you, carrying you and walking to the car, his broad frame keeping you snug against his chest while moving through the crowd with ease. No one stood in his way, immediately moving aside from his facial expression alone. Piercing blue eyes and a clenched jaw daring anyone to make the mistake of coming near you. 

“M’so sleepy” You whined against his neck, letting your hangs cling around his neck, squeezing your legs tighter around his tapered waist. 

“It’s okay pretty girl, I’m taking you home” He murmured, not wasting a second getting you outside and into the all black SUV that was parked at the club entrance. He swallowing thickly when he felt your soft lips press gentle kisses along his neck, the warmth of your breath tickling his skin as he slid into the back seat, nodding to the driver to get going. 

“So handsome” Your nose nudged into his shoulder, burying yourself into him as much as you could, refusing to let him move you from his lap. He spent the entire ride letting you cuddle into him while he held you securely, carefully holding you as he stepped out once you’d reached home. He carried you right to your bedroom, setting you down on your bed. You whined when he tried to pull away, pulling him back, giving him your sweetest pout, glassy and wide. 

“Please don’ go” You mumbled, tucking yourself into him, “Stay? Please?”

How was he supposed to leave you when you were so sweet and cuddly and so utterly adorably drunk. 

“Alright babygirl” He whispered, kissing your forehead, “I gotta get you clean up first through, okay?” He went to you bathroom, well versed in what your night time routine was, making note of the smallest details in everything you did in a day. He found some wipes, and your lotions, bringing them over and gently rubbing the makeup off your face while your mind was still stuck on the name he called you. 

“M’your babygirl?” You asked hopefully, noting the way his cheeks blushed, trying to ignore the way his heart fluttered but it was impossible around you. 

“Always, you’re always my babygirl” He smoothed the cool lotion onto your skin before helping you out of your heels. He convinced you to get changed out of your dress, staying stationed outside of the closet in case you fell over but you were changed seconds later. You came out in an oversized tshirt- his oversized tshirt to be exact, that you’d stolen unbeknownst to him. 

So that’s where it went he shook his head to himself, biting back a smile while you flopped back onto bed, stretching on the covers like a kitten before giving him grabby hands. 

“What is it princess” He knew what you wanted but it went against what he was there for. He had to protect you and to do that he couldn’t ever let his guard down. Not one moment of vulnerability, not when he had to protect you. 

But fuck, you were so utterly irresistible and he’d be lying to himself if he thought there was nothing he felt for you. He came down to tuck you in, hoping the warmth of the blankets would help you sleep but you tugged him into bed instead, wrapping your entire body around him. 

“You’re blushing” you giggled, cupping his scruffy cheek, letting your thumb trace his pink lips. He could help but chuckle, hoping you’d forget all this by morning, letting his fingers trace over your delicate features. 

“You act all grumpy but you’re actually a teddy bear”

He cocked an eyebrow while you tried to copy him, scrunching you brows together instead making him grin. He smoothed the line that formed between your brows, loving the way you continued to contort your face trying to match his grumpy face. 

“A teddy bear, huh?”

“My teddy bear” You sighed contently, snuggling into him, a yawn slipping past your lips. You let the warmth of his arms drift you off to sleep, still smiling as you snored softly. 

“My babygirl” He held you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, allowing himself to fall asleep with you; after all you’d always be safest in his arms. 

Actor Bucky x civilian reader 

I’m feeling angsty. Fluffy. Just a thought. But like a long thought. 

-

You should have known this would happen eventually. 

You knew you should have put your phone down and gone to sleep hours ago. Scrolling through social media did nothing to ease you mind as you stared at the 100′s of posts that showed Bucky whispering in her ear with a boyish smile. A sickly feeling spread from your chest, up your neck and to your cheeks, the type of heat that made your throat constrict and your eyes burn. The lump in your throat was painful to swallow, blinking back tears when you clicked on a video that had been shot by the paparazzi and leaked to the press, all the news outlets having a field day with brand new pics of a budding Hollywood romance. 

“Well, there you have it folks! Looks like Winter is warming up over here, stay tuned for more updates” 

“Single no more? Things steam up on the set of The Winter Soldier” 

“Swipe to get a sneak peak on the hottest new romance everyone’s excited about”

You wanted to throw your phone across the room, instead keeping your eyes locked on the way your boyfriend was cozied up with his co-star, the two of them seemingly giggling over an inside joke while taking a break between shoots. Her face was practically tucked into his neck while he laughed, both of them apparently blissfully unaware someone was watching. 

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I was thinking about Bucky. A beefy Bucky. A beefy mob Bucky. Who is such a simp. I think now is the perfect time to talk about it cause I need some fluff and look at that, it's also my favorite @wifeofbarnes birthday!

Happy birthday sweet angel, I hope you have one filled with so much love ❤️️❤️️

-

Imagine a brooding beefy mob Bucky pining after his rivals sweet, shy daughter. He has no business liking her, her father was always teetering on the edge of putting a bullet between Bucky's eyebrows but Bucky couldn't help it. She's too cute. Too sweet. Everyone knows there's something between you both between the fleeting glances and the number of times Bucky's left with a blush on his cheeks whenever your around.

For someone who hates meetings, he's more than fond of going to your estate to talk over business with a man he hates so much. He's going to go to every single one of those meeting if it means he gets to see you. He never gets more than a few moments, no more than a few words before he's dragged away by Steve who isn't trying to get stabbed by one of your bodyguards.

-

Bucky swirls his crystal glass, the ice in clinking against each other as he takes a sip of amber liquid, seated at a private booth at the back of the club. The alcohol that's already warming his body heats him up even more when he sees you laughing and giggling with your friends, a cute little birthday girl tiara on top of your head.

Fuck, you were so perfect.

"You're staring again, you creep" Steve snorts but Bucky pays him no mind. He's too busy looking at you in your pretty dress, your hips swaying to the music. Tipsy, maybe even a little drunk, love sick Bucky wants nothing more than to get a moment alone with you but he's smart enough to wait.

Well, sort of.

"Go distract her bodyguards"

"You're going to get us killed"

"Then you'll die knowing it was for a good cause"

Sam and Steve shake their head as they wander off to find your security team, quietly instigating a small scuffle to keep them occupied. You step outside waiting for your car to pull up, frowning when a large black truck stops in front of you instead. The door opens and-

"Bucky, what are you doing!" you squeak as he pulls you into the back of his SUV, setting you on his lap before telling his driver to park in a secluded area and to leave for a "smoke break".

"I wanted to say hi" Bucky shrugs innocently as if its the most obvious thing in the world.

"And this is how you decided to say hi?" You giggle, feeling butterflies bustle around your tummy being so close to him. You could smell his cologne and the warm scent of whiskey clinging onto his lips; you wanted nothing more than to bury yourself into him. The pink on his cheeks deepened at you caught him in his little act, pretending he wasn't admiring you from afar the whole time.

"I didn't know it was your birthday" He shrugs again while you try to wiggle off his lap, worried someone might see you but he huffs and holds you tighter. "The windows are tinted" he reads your mind without you saying anything, feeling your body relax slightly.

"Wish you'd said hi to me earlier" You say with a sigh and Bucky doesn't like the way you look sad now. You would've loved to spend more time with him instead of hiding away like this.

"I can drop you home" He offers with a boyish smile and you shake your head because it's far too risky and there's no way you'd be able to get away with it and sneak it past your father.

"Not unless you plan on posing as the cleaning lady-

"I can do that"

"Bucky-

"I can pull off a maids dress"

"James"

"Then how about a birthday kiss" He cocked his head to the side playfully and you swear your cheeks couldn't get any hotter.

"Bucky-

"Just one birthday kiss?" He pouts and you can't believe this mass of tattoos and muscle is giving you puppy eyes with his pink bottom lip jutting out.

"I-

"Please, sugar?" He whispers, his fingers tracing nimble little shapes on your hips while you chew your lip nervously, giving him a nod because you can no longer formulate words. He leans down to press his lips softly against yours and you sigh at the little whimper he lets out, his hands pawing at you to hold you closer. He feels all warm and fuzzy on the inside, letting his arms hug your body extra tight.

"Another?" He whispers, lips brushing against yours with a plea in his voice and you giggle, kissing him again.

"One more?"

"Bucky"

"Please?" He smiles when you kiss him until you're both breathless, only pulling away when you need air.

-

Imagine how cute he'd be trying to spend more time with you as discreetly as possible. You're usually at home so that's his best bet so he'll work with what he can.

"Why is this large fuck around my house so often" Your father rubbed his temples seeing another message for a meeting to go over shipments and territories. "Seriously, he's here almost every week"

Bucky is able to pull it off for a bit but honestly not for long. He's sitting across your father and it's gotten to the point his guards don't bother waiting by the door because Bucky isn't even a threat. He always comes and goes like it's his own house and they're not blind, silently betting over if this will end in a war or wedding.

"For fucks sake are you here to see me or my daughter" your father finally huffs, no longer able to take Bucky's blushing and shifting after you left his office to give him a coffee. "You're here to see her, aren't you"

Bucky nods like a school child who got caught cause knows he hasn't been discreet with his crush. Your father contemplates tossing Bucky into the lake with rocks tied to his ankles but he's also seen the way you look at him and there's no doubt the feelings are mutual.

"God damnit"

Imagine wedding and 2 babies later, Bucky is still just as in love with you. The cutest part is he's still trying to be sneaky.

"You're married now, why the hell are you still trying to hide" Your father berates the mob boss while bouncing his grandson in his lap seeing Bucky tug you into the kitchen so he could kiss you. "You're 6 feet tall and built like a line backer, you can't exactly hide, son"

Bucky pouts at you while you giggle hearing your father snort from the living room.

"He's right, y'know" you nuzzle into your husband while he engulphs you in his arms. You squeal when he hoists you up instead and makes a beeline towards the bedroom. You still stir something in him to this day and since your dad was there to babysit anyway...

"Bucky, where are we going"

"To go make baby #3"

Chicken nuggies.

Crack thought with all the fluff. ALL the fluff. Maybe a tiny dash of angst at the start but it's to set the plot.

Everything that could have possibly gone wrong went sideways as soon as the mission started. The team was ambushed. Bucky was separated from everyone else. His trigger words blared through the speakers and there was nothing anyone could do to stop the soldier from awakening.

Worst of all, you were badly injured. Steve groaned in pain, struggling to pull himself up when he saw the solider lock his eyes on your limp form, taking long strides towards you with purpose.

That wasn't good.

"Tony-I-I need back up, y/n is-what the hell"

Steve blinked watching his friend pick you up with the utmost care, holding you securely in his arms. A hydra agent attempted to order him, only to be silenced with a knife thrown to the throat. The soldier made his way towards the exit with you along with a limping Steve trailing behind him.

"Buck-

"Быстрее" [move] he ordered, carrying you close to his chest and sitting in his designated on the spot on the jet. He didn't say a word as the others filed in, growling when Tony didn't start the engine up fast enough. No one dared look in your direction, not wanting to make the wrong move and happy that Bucky had busied himself with looking over your injuries, mumbling in Russian while letting his hand brush over your cheek.

As soon as the jet touched the ground, he was on his feet and carrying you over to the medbay, refusing to set you down until he saw a doctor ready to help. While it wasn't exactly protocol to have him in the operating room while the doctors worked, no one was interested in arguing back with him when he placed himself in a corner, watching intently. His blue eyes which were normally filled with warmth and softness were now stone cold, eyeing every single movement of what was being done to you, his gaze relaxing when the surgeon gave him a shaky thumbs up.

He sat by your side the entire time, gear still strapped to his body, watching the steady beep of your heart monitor while you slept, the rest of the team quietly waiting outside. Sam peered in, quickly retreating back when Bucky glowered at him, getting up and closing the door so you could rest. He and Steve continued to peep through the little glass window, immediately ducking when they could feel steel blue eyes watching him.

"Do we try and help or-

"I don't want to die yet, also based on what I'm seeing, y/n in the safest place she could be"

You sighed happily as you blinked awake, feeling hazy as if you were floating upon the softest of clouds. The room was bright and clean, you could have been in heaven for all you knew.

Or you were just high as a kite from all the pain killers.

Then you saw him beside you.

Such a gorgeous man.

Handsome.

One who gave you butterflies with shy smiles.

"Soldat" You giggled, reaching over to stroke his scruffy cheek, brushing your thumb over the scowl on his lips, "Hi" You admired his sharp jaw, idly tracing over his features while his mouth twitched into something of a smile, all his muscles finally relaxing seeing you awake.

You yawned, stretching yourself out like a kitten out before rolling over with a flop to face the very pretty man who was sitting at your bedside. Your admiration was cut short with the rumble of your tummy.

There was only one thing you wanted now.

"Soldat, I want chicken nuggies" You demanded, the growl of your stomach solidifying your request. He simply nodded, getting up and out of his seat, making his way over to the one place he knew you'd want your "nuggies" from.

"H-how may I h-help you" The Mc Donald's cashier stared at the numerous guns and knifes strapped to the infamous soldier, his metal arm pointing to a kids meal combo that came with a 6 piece nugget.

A little red box was placed in front of him at lightening speed but that wasn't good enough. He peered into the bag, frowning when he saw a toy that you already had. He grabbed it and placed it back onto the counter, staring at the trembling employee while they rummaged to find a new one, grabbing fistfuls and stuffing into the bag instead. The soldier nodded when he was given one you didn't have before, making his way back to ensure you were fed.

It didn't take long for the news outlets to catch on that the Winter Soldier was out buying Happy Meals.

*Tony's suit, Thors hammer, Steve's now broken shield and some gentle deprogramming later*

"Still want more nuggies" You murmured against Bucky's chest, still a little hazy while he chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"I'll always get you chicken nuggies, doll"