Lit Through the Darkness at 1:58

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When you’re home alone, you convince yourself that Bucky deserves more

Warning: insecure reader, angst, throwing up, heartbreak, i don’t mean any hate toward natasha during this fic, let’s be honest if my bf was hanging around natasha i’d be insecure, have you seen her???

A/n: was requested (@scorpionchild81) but put my own spin on it to fit my 1k celebration! sorry it’s so short :(

You grip the toilet tighter as you throw up, tears rolling down your cheeks. You’ve been throwing up for what seems like hours, but you’ve been crying for weeks. This happens every time Bucky goes on a mission, leaving you all alone. Things are perfect when Bucky is home, but as soon as he leaves… The doubt sets in.

You don’t hear from him for weeks sometimes, you don’t know where he is, who he’s with… You know Bucky loves you, but should he?

How could he really love you, when Natasha is right there next to him? She’s a badass! She’s just like him… She took her trauma and made it into something positive. She’s beautiful, she’s funny, she’s strong…

All you do is sit at home and wait for Bucky to return. You can’t relate to him about much of anything. He’s 100 years old, you’re 23. Natasha might not be able to relate to the age part, but you know how deep their conversations get about their trauma.

Bucky opens up to her about things he won’t dare talk to you about.

You throw up again, your heart breaking in your chest. You don’t know why you even still try to convince him that he should be with you. You know the truth, he should be with Natasha.

You scramble for your phone, dialing Bucky’s number. You haven’t spoken to him since he’s been gone, which hasn’t helped your anxiety. You don’t want to wait until he’s home, you want the relief now. If you’re not with him, you can’t be upset about what he’s doing when he’s gone.

The phone rings, but proceeds to go to voicemail. Your breath hitches in your throat, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“This is Bucky, leave a message. Or don’t, I probably won’t call back either way,”

The sound of his voice has you choking a sob back, your lip trembling. You hear the beep, scrambling to come up with words. “Uh, Bucky… This is y/n,” You say, rolling your eyebrows as you remember he already knows who it is, thanks to caller ID.

“I know you’re busy, but uh, I thought I should tell you now, before you come home,” You say, your voice broken and quiet. You lean your head against the wall behind you, taking a deep breath. You don’t know how to break this to him, especially over the phone.

You know he’ll be better off without you, better off with someone who understands him. “I won’t be home when you come back. I’m sorry, Buck, but I can’t do this anymore. You deserve better, you deserve someone like you,” You say, your voice failing you, sobs taking over. You instantly hang up, not wanting him to hear you cry anymore.

You sob against the bathroom floor, wrapped in his shirt, knowing you’ll never where his clothes again.

—-

You’re in the bathroom of your new apartment, getting ready for bed. You don’t know when Bucky went home, or even if he went home. You’ve blocked his number, not wanting to put yourself through that pain again.

it’s over, there’s no need to rehash things when he gets home. He deserves better, that’s that. You wonder what he did when he got the message. Was he relieved? DId he run to Natasha, telling her that you were gone? Did he even miss you?

No, he doesn’t miss you. You’re not the kind of girl guys miss when it’s over. You’re the kind of girl guys are relieved about when you leave. Finally, the boring nights, meaningless arguments… It’s over.

Natasha is the kind of girl guys miss when it’s over.

You splash water on your face, closing your eyes as the cold water wakes you up. Water runs down your forearms, landing on Bucky’s red henley. You swore you wouldn’t take any of his clothes when you left, but you always did love this shirt.

You inhale deeply, trying to get yourself to relax, to forget about Bucky. You lift your head up, opening your eyes as you stand straight up. Your breath hitches in your throat as you see Bucky standing behind you, his eyes fixed on yours through the mirror.

“Bucky, how the–”

Before you can finish, Bucky is spinning you around, pinning you against the counter. His eyes are red, his lips puffy and his cheeks red. “How could you?” He asks, breathlessly.

You gulp, your bottom lip trembling. It’s obvious he’s been wrecked, just like you have been. It’s obvious you’ve broken his heart.

“Bucky, I had to. You deserve better,” You whisper, your voice breaking.

Bucky shakes his head, furrowing his eyebrows. “Better? I deserve better?”

You push past him, not wanting to be trapped in this tiny bathroom with him. “You need to leave,” You say, trying to convince yourself that’s what you want.

Bucky follows you, using his metal arm to grab your flesh one. The metal of his fingers burn into your skin, digging into your bone. “Tell me, y/n. If I don’t deserve you, what do I deserve?”

You refuse to look at his eyes. You don’t answer, wanting this to be over already. You were at peace with your decision, why did he have to come back?

“Tell me!’ He barks, raising his voice. You finally look at him, watching the tears stream down his face.

"Natasha, alright? You deserve Natasha!” You say, jerking your arm away from him.

Bucky furrows his eyebrows, taking a step back. “Natasha…?” He asks, muttering under his breath. You wipe your eyes, sniffling.

“What are you talking about?”

You shake your head, dropping your eyes to the ground. “You deserve someone like you, Buck. I can’t understand you. I can try, I can pretend I understand you, but there are things I’ll never understand about you, because I’ve never gone through what you’ve gone through. Natasha has… I can never be what you need,” You admit, your tears rolling down your cheeks.

Bucky stares at you blankly, his lips parted. You can see the gears turning in his head, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking. “Y/n… Natasha is a friend. She’s my friend because she understands what I’ve gone through. But… For you to try to put yourself in my shoes… To try to understand me, that’s what makes you a good girlfriend. I don’t need you to understand me, I just need you to love me.” Bucky reassures you, his voice soft.

You keep your eyes on the ground, sniffling quietly.

Bucky moves closer to you, reaching out and wrapping his arms around you. You fall into his touch, snuggling against his chest. “You’re the only thing that makes me feel human. I love Natasha, but part of me still feels like a monster when I’m on a mission. It reminds me of everything I went through. The best part of a mission is coming home to you, coming home and feeling like a human. You’re the only person who makes it all go away,” He says, cradling your head against his chest.

You allow him to hold you, soaking in his presence. The past few days have been horrible. You’ve been trying to distract yourself from the fact that your heart was breaking in two. You missed having Bucky in bed with you. You missed waking up next to Bucky.

You don’t want to be without Bucky, you want to be with him for the rest of your life. You just want him to have what he deserves. You lift your head, sniffling. “You’re sure I’m what you want?” You ask, your voice quiet.

Bucky cradles your face in his bruised hands, a smile slowly creeping across his face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life,”

Can’t Outrun the Past (Part 6)

A/N: In which the past comes to light and there is yelling This is an important chapter, but might not be the most exciting haha hope you enjoy!

Pairings: ex!Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: mentions of drug use, alcohol abuse, rape, depression symptoms (though not in so many words), etc.

Word Count: 2366

As promised, Dr. Raynor visits you a few days later. The sun was shining brightly through the window and you’re staring out at the landscape when she comes in.

“Good morning, Y/N.” You don’t move to look at her, so she stops at the end of your bed. “How are you feeling today?”

“Fine,” you say, your usual answer slipping out, but you remember what Dr. Raynor had said about using ‘fine’ so much. She chuckles.

“Are you okay to talk today?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you say, still looking out the window. She must hear the sadness in your voice, because she clears her throat. You glance over at her.

“Want to try again? How are you feeling today?”

“Sad.” Dr. Raynor gives you a small smile, before taking her usual seat beside you, pushing Bucky’s chair away from your bed as she does.

“Anything in particular bringing out that feeling today?”

“I miss being outside. It’s been… too long since I was outside by myself.”

“I see. How does that make you feel sad?”

“I guess I just miss being able to make my own choices.” Dr. Raynor hums, then writes something down on her notepad.

“That must be very hard for you.”

“Yeah,” you reply lamely.

“Dr. Banner says you will get to move out of the med bay tomorrow,” Dr. Raynor says, changing the subject entirely. “How do you feel about that?”

“Uhm, I mean, I can’t leave the Tower so it’s not going to be much different.”

“You’d be out of the bed. Unhooked from all the machines.”

“That’s true. That’ll be nice. Changing my clothes is a… uh, process,” you say with a chuckle.

“I bet, with all those tubes and wires. Are you feeling confident moving forward?” You think for few moments. Confident? Probably not confident, but you were excited to be out of the med-bay. You only had to stick around for 2 more weeks and then you’d disappear. Not that you’d tell Dr. Raynor that.

“Confident is a bit of a powerful word. I’d say more like… tentatively optimistic.” Dr. Raynor laughs at your comment.

“Well, that’s something and we’re not going to pretend that this is a difficult transition for you. We will take tentative optimism. I feel like I should ask how things are going with James? He seems to be here often.”

“Yeah. He’s like a leech. I can’t get rid of the guy.” You laugh at your joke, but Dr. Raynor doesn’t seem to think it’s very funny.

“Have you spoken about the factors that contributed to your relapse?”

“Uhm, no, not really.”

“Do you feel it would make your transition easier?” You think for a minute, feeling a sense of panic build in your chest. Dr. Raynor must notice your heartrate speed up.

“I won’t force you to do something you’re not ready to do, Y/N.” You take a deep breath, but nod your head.

“I think I need to get it out,” you say quietly, and she nods.

“Would you like me there?”

“Please?”

“Absolutely. I have time now, if you’re ready.” You know that if you prolong the conversation, you’ll talk yourself out of it.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” you say out loud.

“Yes, Miss Y/L/N?” Dr. Raynor looks around the room, trying to find the source of the voice.

“Can you have Bucky come to the med bay please?”

“Yes, Miss Y/L/N.”

“What was that?”

“AI. Tony designed him…” You trail off, panic for the impending conversation mixing with grief in a nauseating twist that makes you close your eyes.

“You okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, just nervous.”

“I’ll be right here if you need me. We can stop at any time.”

“Okay.” You open your eyes when you hear Bucky enter the room.

“Y/N? Are you okay? F.R.I.D.A.Y. said you needed to see me?”

“Yes, James. We were talking about Y/N’s transition out of the med bay.”

“There’s some stuff that I need to tell you.” Your words come out a little louder than a whisper. Bucky wrings his hands in front of him, his anxiety building off your own.

“Take a seat,” Dr. Raynor says, moving another chair around to the other side of your bed. He sat and looked at you expectantly.

“I… uh…” You look down at your hands, not able to make eye contact with him. You take a deep breath. “When we… uh… Ugh. Words, Y/N,” you say more to yourself than anyone else.

“Deep breath, Y/N.” It surprises you that it’s Bucky that says it, and you look up at him. He’s smiling at you knowingly. “It’s just me. It’s okay.” You do take a deep breath and look back at your hands. You let out a sad laugh.

“It’s just you. It’s always been just you. There was a time when you were the most important person in my life. I couldn’t imagine a day when I didn’t have you. And then, I.. uh.. I lost you and-“ Bucky interrupts you.

“You never lost me, Y/N. I wanted to go to you every day. I wanted you by my side. Always. I’m so sorry that I hurt you, and I know that you may never be able to forgive me, but I am always going to be here. I am always going to be here, because you deserved that from me before, and I let you down. It won’t happen again, Y/N.”

“I know, Bucky,” you start, but he just continues talking.

“And I know that you might never trust me again. And I totally get that, but I want you to know that I will always be here, by your side.”

“Bucky,” you try to start again, but he, again, starts rambling.

“Shut up!” you scream at him and Dr. Raynor bristles on the other side of the bed. Bucky looks from you to Dr. Raynor, and back to you. “You got to say your peace. Now it’s my turn. I just need 5 freaking minutes without your groveling or apologizing. It’s my turn.” He looks at you with wide eyes, before nodding, telling you to continue. You take a deep, shaky breath.

“When Steve found me, I didn’t want to be found. See, there was a reason I was picking fights with the bigger guy. I was young and dumb, yes, but I was also pretty okay with not being alive anymore, but I didn’t have the guts to do it myself.” Bucky moves to start talking and you tisk at him, and he sits back in his chair, shutting his mouth again. “When you are shuffled from home to home and turned into nothing more than the money that the government gives your family to keep you around, you learn pretty quickly that there really isn’t much you’re worth. So when Steve gave me a purpose, a family that actually wanted me around, I found myself believing it. And I know the intensity that Steve cares, so when he became intent on finding you, his long-lost brother in all respects beside blood, of course I offered to help. Of course I stood beside him, beside you. And from the moment I saw you, I knew you’d be important.” You feel your cheeks warm but push through.

“We didn’t talk much, but you were the one who noticed the changes in me the first time, before anyone else. You cared enough to see that I was different. And that means something to me. You held my hair while I was detoxing. You slept in that awful chair beside my bed in this same room. You didn’t leave, even when I begged you to go. And that meant something to me. I trusted you. When I was better, when I felt like myself, I introduced you to Sarah and she was the only person from my before. And you knew that. You knew she was important to me. And you knew you were important to me. You knew we weren’t just friends.”

“When you went behind my back, you didn’t just take away one friend. You took away all of them. I had 3 people in this world, you, Sarah and Steve, and you took them all with you. I couldn’t have you and I wanted you to be happy. So, you got Sarah. And I couldn’t make Steve choose between us, so I made the choice for him. I had no one. I had nothing. My entire life for years had been the Avengers and the good we did. And you took that from me.” You feel anger rising in your voice, tears stinging your eyes. “You took my whole life just because you couldn’t keep it in your pants, Barnes, and that’s not something I just get to wake up one day and forget.” You reach up and rub your eyes angrily. “I promised I wouldn’t cry any more tears over you and yet, here we are.”

“And how do you feel about that, James?” Dr. Raynor asks. You jump at her voice, forgetting that she was in the room with you. He looks back at her, then down to his hands.

“I know,” was all he said.

“Now you don’t have anything to say,” you mumble. Bucky stiffens beside you, but you look over at Dr. Raynor. “Anything you’d like to add, doc?” Your voice comes out angrier than you meant it to.

“I think that was a good start, Y/N. I know there is more, but you can take it at your pace.”

“Thanks,” you say, looking at your hands.

“Well, Y/N, same time tomorrow?” she asks you, standing up.

“I’ll probably be here,” you joke, though you don’t know when they are moving you out of the med bay. She smiles at you, then glances over at Bucky.

“I will see you for our appointment Thursday?”

“Yep,” Bucky mumbles, nodding to her as she walks out of the med bay. Silence settles on the two of you. You play with your fingers anxiously.

“You know, after I left, after I got my own place, I decided I’d go to our place.” The words fall out of your mouth before you could stop them. “For old time’s sake. I didn’t expect to see you there, but there you were, dancing with her and I just watched you from the corner.” You glanced over to see him looking at you with sorrow in his eyes. “You looked so happy. I was so happy that she made you so happy. It’s all I ever wanted for you. I knew I’d never make you that happy.” You look down to your hands in your lap. “It’s so stupid because I knew it would hurt. I knew my heart would break but I needed to see it for myself. I needed to see you happy, one last time.” You feel a tear slip down your cheek. “It was my goodbye. And then… when the blip happened, when Steve called to tell me you had…” Tears were steaming down your face freely then. “Life just didn’t feel livable anymore. I wandered around the City for a few weeks before running into a guy I went to high school with. He’s a doctor and offered to look at my back. It’s never been the same since that fall in Budapest.” You chuckle but continue. “I didn’t fill the prescription for weeks. I think I always knew I’d end up here, or worse, but it got to the point that I didn’t care. You were gone and I couldn’t get the feeling of your hands out of my mind. I couldn’t get you out of my head.” You look up at him again and he’s still watching you, but he’s crying this time, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Dr. Raynor told me that she’d never met someone who woke up one day and decided to be an addict, but I’m not going to lie and say that’s not what it was this time. I needed to not think for a while. I knew this was the way I wanted to do it. I needed to forget your hands in mine, and I needed it quickly. Things spiraled from there…” you trail off, looking out the window. You know you need to tell him. You know he needs to know, but you also know it’s your choice. You look back over at Bucky.

“A few weeks before my OD, my dealer… he… uh…” you look at your hands, not able to look at Bucky. “He forced himself on me.”

“He did what?” Bucky all but growled. You look up at him to see anger written on his every feature.

“I was.. uh.. I was high. Too high to stop him.”

“Who is he?”

“I’m not telling you that, Bucky.”

“I’ll kill him.”

“You will not. He’s not worth your time, Bucky.”

“He touched you, Y/N.”

“I need you to calm down, please,” you say, looking at him with sad eyes. His anger melts away and he returns to his sad eyes.

“When I woke up later and realized what happened, something inside me broke. It was like my last shred of desire to live was gone. I went to a rave, and I was awake for like… 90 hours or something. Even when I slept, I woke up high or drunk. And then I did the same thing again. Every day was the same. The pills or patch or alcohol was the only thing that kept me alive.” The irony of that wasn’t lost on you and you chuckled but realized too late that it probably wasn’t funny.

“When Steve called to tell me that Tony…” You look up at Bucky, who is crying again. That’s all it takes for you to lose it. A sob wracks through your body and you collapse over, your arms resting on your folded legs, and sob.

“Hey, hey, hey, doll,” Bucky says, climbing into the bed with you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “I’m here.” You feel him kiss the side of your head, and feel his tears wetting your hair. It’s not long before you fall asleep in his arms.

Taglist:@obsssedwithjustaboutanything@austynparksandpizza@wtfrae@soccer-100000@studio-apartment@ginger-swag-rapunzel

Can’t Outrun the Past (Part 1)

A/N: Oh man friends. This is ANGST. That’s it. Just angst. I am not sure where the series is going, but it’s going to be a rough read until then. We’re going to pretend that this works with the timeline, k? haha

Pairing: reader x ex!Bucky Barnes, reader x friend!Steve Rogers

Warnings: drug use, alcohol abuse, angst, so much angst, cute worried Steve Rogers, post End Game trauma, drug use. It’s just angsty. Don’t read if that’s not good for you right now.

Word Count: 1907 words

You stumble through the door after a night of forgetting. The sun was beginning to peak through the window, and you yank the curtains closed with a huff. Your shoes come off one by one, and you barely make it to your bed before collapsing, asleep in a just a few moments.

You are awoken sometime later by your phone buzzing. You groan, fumbling around for it on your nightstand when you remember it was still in your purse, which was also, still, around your neck. You sit up, digging through it before finding it. It stops ringing just as you pull it out but seeing a missed call from Steve meant you wouldn’t have answered it anyways. You flop back onto your pillow, scrolling through your missed calls. Over the past few years, he had called you almost every month, but you never answered. All his messages were saved, and you’d replay them occasionally, especially when you were feeling particularly bad about yourself.

While you wait for his inevitable message, you plug your phone in on your nightstand, and stumble to the bathroom. You look in the mirror and chuckle. Your hair is like a lion’s mane and makeup is smeared down your face. The closer you inspect, though, the more you notice the smaller details. Your eyes are bloodshot. Your cheeks sunken. Your skin, always very vibrant, is dull and dry. It doesn’t take long in your self-pity to glance at the small orange pill bottle on the counter.

The first time you took pain meds was for a good reason. You can’t even remember the fight but fighting alongside the Avengers meant you were bound to get hurt once or twice. The Oxycontin took the edge off the pain. It was a welcomed relief from the crazy that was your life. The problem, though, was that you liked the feeling. It took the edge off the pain, yes, but also the edge off life. It didn’t take long until you were getting yourself injured on purpose, dodging a knife a little too slowly, or trying to take on more than you were capable of handling on your own. Then you met Bucky.

You shake your head at that thought and open the pill bottle. It calls to you with promises of peace and you take 2 in your hand and pop them in your mouth, not even needing water to get them down anymore. It only takes a few minutes before they start to work, spreading calm tingles through your body. You wash your face and try to put your hair into a bun, but remember that Steve had probably left you a message. With a huff, you walk back to your bed and sit on the edge. You unlock your phone and click on the New Voicemail notification. Steve’s voice fills the speaker.

“Hey Y/N, it’s… uh… Steve. Obviously. I am not even sure if this is your number anymore, but…” he pauses for a long time, and you swear you hear a sniffle. “Something has happened. Tony is… Tony is gone, Y/N. He’s gone and we’re doing a memorial at the lake house tomorrow. On Saturday. He would have wanted you there, Y/N. We all want you there.” He pauses again, then clears his throat. “Please. Anyways. Uh. Bye.” The message ends and your heart stalls in your chest. You stare ahead, not blinking. A tear rolls from your eyes.

Tony was more like a father to you than your own father was, but you hadn’t talked to him in a few years. Not since the blip anyways. He called, just like Steve, but you never answered. You knew he could track you. He could have showed up any time he wanted, but you also knew that he respected your privacy and knew you needed space.

Thoughts race around your head, dulled by the pain medication that suns through your blood. You feel the walls start to close in and, with shaking hands and unsteady legs, you make your way to the kitchen, to the unopened bottle of vodka that sits on the back of the counter. You open it easily and take a long swig. It burns going down the back of your throat, but you don’t even care. You continue drinking until the bottle feels heavy in your hand. Soon, you feel your head start to swim and you barely make it to the couch before your legs give out and everything goes black.

You wake up in the middle of the night, having slept for almost 18 hours. You feel like shit, of course, your head pounding and your skin crawling. You shuffle to the bathroom, popping 3 more pills before splashing your face with water. You don’t even bother looking in the mirror this time. You close your eyes, steadying yourself, then crawl into bed and wait for the darkness to come again.

You wake up to the sun and wish you didn’t. You roll over and see that it is the next day. There was a part of you that wishes you had just slept through it, but fate wasn’t so nice this time. You lay awake in bed, not even sure if you are going to the memorial. Your black dress hangs in the closet, all pressed and ready, but you stare at the ceiling and weigh the need for closure with having to see Bucky again.

Bucky came into your life in its darkest moments. He gravitated toward you because, like himself, you had your own fair share of demons. You never looked at him like a monster because you knew that everyone just had to do what kept them alive. He was the first person to notice your drug problem and held your hand through the detox and everything that came along with it. You comforted him through his nightmares and helped him through his trauma.

In the end, though, you were too screwed up and he simply wasn’t ready. Everyone knew it was mutual, but when you said you needed to leave, no one questioned why. It was too hard being there, in the compound. At first, you kept in touch with Tony and Steve. But everyone seemed to be moving on and you were honestly happy for them.

Then the blip happened. Life descended into chaos all around you and it was a chance meeting with an old friend that brought the pills back into your life. You ran into him while getting lunch and decided to catch up. He had told you that he was a doctor now, and suggested you go see him about an old back injury that had flared up. It wasn’t until he handed you the prescription for oxy that it even dawned on you that you could get more pills. You held onto that prescription for weeks, staring at it every now and again, before you filled it. And it took weeks before you took the first one. All at once, though, the world slipped away, and you got a good nights’ sleep for the first time in years, and it spiraled from there.

You kept telling yourself you could always stop. But that bottle turned into another, then another, and when your friend stopped prescribing them for you, you turned to your neighbor who you knew dealt. He knew a guy who could get you what you needed and more, but you never said yes to anything besides oxy. Until a few weeks ago when you went to a rave, and you weren’t even sure what you had taken. The days since then have been filled with booze and pills and whatever else you could get your hands on to lose reality.

Now, though, standing in front of the mirror in your bathroom trying to make your face look less sick and trying to make your dress lay right when you were sure it fit correctly, not hanging off your bones awkwardly, you realize that you may have a problem. You sigh.

“A problem for another day,” you say out loud to yourself while popping 3 pills in your mouth, swallowing them with a swig of vodka.

By the time you get to the lake house your bones are shaking. From nervousness or the pills or something else entirely, but you just know you’re shaking. You stare out the windshield toward the house and decide you can’t do it. You’re sure that you’re going to pass out or something. You are ready to put the car back in drive when you hear a knock on your window. You glance over, blonde poofy hair and Steve Roger’s face. You sigh. You put the car in park and turn it off. You take a deep breath before opening your door.

“Hi,” he says softly, looking at you. If he notices your eyes or sunken face, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he wraps you in a bone crushing hug, which you chuckle at.

“Hi Steve,” you mumble into his shirt, hoping not to wipe off any of your makeup, but you’re pretty sure you do anyways.

“You came.” It’s not a question, but as he pulls away from you, he touches your shoulders softly, almost as if he was trying to convince himself that you really were there.

“I came.” Your words come out a little shaky, but Steve just places his hand in your own. He gives it a squeeze but doesn’t move.

“You’re shaking.” You yank your hand back, cursing the shakes, but you smile, hopefully convincingly.

“Just nervous,” you say, but you don’t think he buys it. He doesn’t say anything, though, just nods.

“Shall we?” he asks, gesturing toward the lake house. You take a deep breath and nod softly. You walk beside him, your knees shaking and your legs threatening to give out. By the time you reach the doors, you are sure you’re going to pass out.

“You okay, Y/N?” Steve asks as you sit on the bottom step of the stairs up to the house, concern lacing his voice.

“Mmhmm, just need a minute,” you squeak out, trying to breathe deeply and get the darkness on the edges of your periphery to disappear. You almost curse under your breath when he squats in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” His eyes are filled with concern, and you want to tell him to go inside, that you’ll catch up, that you’re fine, but you can’t get the words out. You feel like you’re floating, just above unconsciousness, and you can’t move. You can’t talk. You just sit and wait.

“Y/N?” Steve says, probably about ready to call Bruce to come help by the look in his eyes, but you nod weakly.

“I’m fine. Just a bit dizzy,” you lie, quietly. The darkness recedes from your vision, and you decide you’re okay to stand up. Steve scrambles to stand up and help but you know that you’ve spooked him. He knows something is up.

“I’m fine. Let’s get this over with.” It comes out as a mumble, which you don’t mean for it to, but you’re tired and just want to sleep. You climb the steps, Steve’s hand on your arm, his other on your lower back as if he believes you’ll collapse any minute. You walk through the door to the main room and are met by the waiting eyes of the Avengers.

Pairing:Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Genre:Angst / Fluff  |  Word Count: 1,625

Summary:Reader feels lost, and she finds comfort in the arms of someone she didn’t expect.

Warnings:depression, suicidal thoughts, implied attempted suicide (very light, only if you squint real hard) 

Author’s Note: When I started writing this I was in a very bad place. I started wirting it because I felt exactly as reader feels in this fic. And this was my only outlet. Daydreaming as always. It helped a little fantasizing that my very own Bucky would comfort me in my darkest days, so I decided to share this with you all. I hope it helps those who need it, if only a little bit. You’re not alone. Don’t forget to reach out for help. Attempting against your life is never the answer, guys. You matter. You’re important and people do care. We don’t have to live through this alone. And I know it isn’t easy. And I know it can’t be cured with a fanfiction. I know.But knowing people care, sharing the way you feel with people you love and people who love you does help. It makes things easier, lighter. And if you ever need to talk to someone, you can always come to me. It gets better, guys. It really does. Stay safe. I love you all <3

Taglist:Taglists will be added in the reblog

[Masterlist]

[Bucky Barnes Masterlist]

Bucky could always tell if you’d cried yourself to sleep during the night. Your pretty eyes would be puffy and reddish the next morning. Your shoulders would hunch over, as if the weight you’d cried off the night before hadn’t left completely. You’d shuffle your feet across the floor. You’d look numb, weary. And he always knew that crying all alone in your bed at night had left you feeling worse than before.

“Hey, doll,” he greeted quietly when you entered the kitchen.

You lifted your face up to see him sitting on the stool across from the kitchen table. The sunlight that came from the window behind him shone on his bed hair, creating a halo around his head that made him glow.

“Hey, Buck.” You smiled weakly at him in an attempt to hide the fact that you’d cried the night before. But the smile, as weak as it had been, was real. Seeing him always made your heart feel less heavy and the weight over your shoulders dissipated for a little while.

You walked towards the stove that was behind him and filled the teapot with tap water before setting it onto the flame. You placed your hands on the edge of the counter and let your head fall forward. You let out a silent sigh, and prayed that the remnants of the tears shed last night weren’t noticeable to Bucky.

“Everything okay, doll?” he said behind you, tentatively.

You lifted your head up and turned to see him. He was looking at you worryingly, and he’d turned his whole body in your direction. He didn’t attempt to hide the scowl of concern on his face.

You attempted a smile, but it didn’t come out right. Everything was not fine. And you were dying to tell him just that. But you knew if you did, you’d crumble before him, and that was something you couldn’t afford. Looking weak in front of people wasn’t something you were very fond of.

“Yeah, Buck. Everything’s fine.” You shrugged your shoulders in a weak attempt to be nonchalant.

Bucky knew better, but he didn’t push.

He stood up from the stool and shortened the distance between you two in a few strides. He towered over you by a good 8 inches. His presence wasn’t intimidating. He didn’t make you nervous. He made you feel at peace. And you wondered what it’d be like to be wrapped up in his arms, if a hug from him would ease the pain in your chest and lift the weight off your shoulders.

He placed both hands upon your upper arms and said in the most soothing voice: “I’m here if you need me, doll.” He looked intently into your eyes, and you were trying so goddamn hard not to cry. “Always.” He smiled and squeezed your arms softly before letting you go and walking out of the kitchen.

And you knew and embrace from him would definitely help you ease the pain. And you found yourself longing to be held by Bucky Barnes.

-

It was taking a toll on you. You couldn’t focus on missions anymore. You were in a bad mood all the time. You’d snap at everyone for everything and anything, and all you wanted was to sleep. Sleep all day. Sleep and not worry about life anymore. You weren’t sure when, but you’d started to wish to never wake up.

But the world needed you. And you couldn’t afford sleeping all the time. You couldn’t afford being distracted during missions because you would not only jeopardize your life, but also your teammates’.

And it was too much. The weight of the world was upon your shoulder. The weight of being a good soldier, a good agent was upon your shoulders. The weight of everything was upon your shoulders. And the tears that you shed in your bed every night weren’t nearly enough to lift it all off. You were fading away and there was nothing you could do about it. And if there was, you didn’t care to find it.

-

“You could’ve gotten killed, Y/N!” Tony yelled as he paced back and forth across the carpeted living room floor. His right hand swiped along his hair, pushing it back and away from his face.

“Wouldn’t that had been delightful?” you said, trying so little to hide the fact that you didn’t care.

“What?” Tony stopped his pacing and stood in front of you. He couldn’t quite figure out if you were serious, and there were both anger and concern in his features.

You were all used to bottling things up. If you were sad or depressed or angry, you bottled it all up. There was no time for feelings. You all had more important things to do. You were looked up to. And people didn’t want to see sad agents. They wanted sparkly agents, happy avengers that would gladly give their life for them, as ungrateful as they were.

You sighed wearily and rolled your eyes as you stood up from the couch. “Nothing, Tony.” You patted his shoulder before walking past him towards the staircase.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” And the concern in his voice was noticeable, but god you didn’t have the energy to do this right now. You didn’t have the energy to do anything at all lately.

You stopped at the first step and turned your body in his direction. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m not allowed to not be okay.” You shrugged your shoulders and went upstairs, leaving him with dread hanging over his head.

-

It was too much. Everything was too much. The little things that used to bring you joy had ceased to be important to you. Being in combat, fighting the bad guys, kicking some hydra ass were things you utterly enjoyed. But that was gone too. You saw no light at the end of the tunnel. It kept getting darker and deeper, and your resilience was wearing thin. You were disappearing and nobody cared. Not even you.

The music in your ears was loud, and the tears flowed free down the sides of your face, disappearing into your hair. Music used to bring you peace of mind, and you were trying so desperately to find it again. You were trying desperately to cling to the remnants of life that could keep your feet grounded onto this world. And it wasn’t happening. Nothing worked anymore. Not even music. So what was the point on keep on living then? If nothing could bring you joy anymore? If nothing could spark a little bit of life into you? And the thought appeared in your mind in a flash, almost fleeting. And you held onto it. Onto your last hope. Your last resource.

It would be so easy, wouldn’t it? You had the means. You had the weapons. You had the knowledge so it would be as painless and quick as possible.

So why then were you taking so long? Why were your hands shaking? Why was all your body shaking? Why were there tears running madly down your face if this was what you wanted to do?

The gun felt heavy in your hand, and you dropped it as if it were scorching hot. And you ran. You stormed off your quarters and let your legs guide you to wherever they wanted to go. You let your heart guide you to the one place you knew you’d feel safe from your own thoughts; the one place you’d feel safe from yourself.

It was as if he’d sensed you’d come because he opened the door just when you were about to knock. And there he was, standing tall and broad and waiting.

He didn’t say a word, but you sensed he knew why you were standing on his doorstep, crying and shaking. He didn’t say a word, and he didn’t have to, because when he opened his arms, you stepped into them in a heartbeat, with no doubt in your mind that this was the place you needed to be at the most right now.

When his arms wrapped around you, it felt as if all the broken pieces of your shattered soul were being glued back together, back in place. It was as if he was absorbing all the bad thoughts and feelings that had been consuming you for months. And you held onto him. You held onto him as if your life depended on it. And it did in a way.

You sobbed into his shirt, leaving a damp spot on the fabric. He ran his right hand through your hair, soothing you, comforting you. He placed his right cheek on top of your head and brought you closer to his body when your sobs became cries. He never said a word, and he never urged you to stop crying.

“It’s gonna be okay, doll,” he whispered against the top of your head; his hands never ceasing to stroke your hair and back soothingly. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

And it was all you needed. Someone who cared. Someone who showed they cared. Someone who allowed you to live your feelings without trying to shut you down.

This was the light at the end of the tunnel. The spark of hope that you were so desperately looking for. And here it was, in the arms of a man who had always been there but you’d been too blind to see it.

Going back to normal wasn’t going to be easy, and you were aware of it. But knowing Bucky cared, knowing Bucky was there to pick you up, would make it less difficult. And it was worth staying for.

It was worth living for.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x  Female Reader

Genre: Angst / Smut  |  Word Count:3,891

Summary: Reader loves Bucky. And Bucky loves someone else. That’s how life works sometimes.

Warnings: unprotected sex, a lot of feels, unrequited love, people using people to forget about other people. 

Author’s Note: I’ve been listening to The Weeknd for three weeks now. His songs have sparked a lot of ideas for fanfics in my head of all sorts, but Call Out My Name made me land this fic idea. Can’t believe I’ve written Bucky again after nearly 2 years. I feel like I’m a litte rusty, but I hope you enjoy it anyways <3

Taglist:Tags will be added in the reblog.

[Masterlist]

[Bucky Barnes Masterlist]

The time on the clock sitting on the bedside table read 3:30 in the morning. The cold, empty spot on the bed beside you let you know Bucky had gotten up as soon as you’d fallen asleep. This had been going on for a month now, exactly since the day he ran into his ex-girlfriend.

He’d told you he didn’t have feelings for her anymore, that she was his past and you were his present. But his demeanor had changed ever since that day. It almost felt like he just fucked you to sleep so he could be alone with the thoughts of her. Your patience was wearing thin, but you loved him. And you’d convinced yourself that this was just a rough patch he was going through. It wouldn’t take long for him to go back to normal.

‘It’s going to be okay,’ you kept saying the words like a mantra, but every night he snuck out of the bedroom when you were sleeping it became harder and harder to believe it. To say you were scared was an understatement.

You loved him. If he loved you, you weren’t so sure anymore.

The night was hot despite the windows being open in Bucky’s room. The silky robe felt cool against your skin, creating a delicious contrast. You fastened the robe belt around your waist loosely and walked barefoot out of the room.

It wasn’t hard to find Bucky. This had become a routine. You’d always wake up around the same time and find his spot in the bed cold and empty. And you’d always find him sitting on the window sill in the living room, looking out in the empty streets of the city. He’d always have a glass of water with him, but by this time, you knew it wasn’t water. It’d never been.

You knew he was thinking of her. That much was clear. You could see the sadness in his eyes despite the small light that came from outside. He seemed to long for her. And you knew he missed her. She was still his present, and you just knew he wanted her to be his future, too. You were just a distraction, a façade.

All of it had been a lie from the very beginning and you felt stupid for not having realized before, for not having walked out of his life before your heart got too invested. But it was too late now. No matter whether you stayed or not, you’d be the only one left with a broken heart. So, why prolong the pain? Why prolong the inevitable? If neither of you were happy, there was no point in keeping this lie up. It had to end now.

“I can see the gears turning in that head of yours,” you said lightly. There was no need for this to end badly. There was no need to add more salt to the wound.

He turned his head in your direction, startled, and a small smile appeared on his face.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Well, not feeling you beside me did the trick. Like last night. And the night before.”

He lowered his gaze to the almost empty glass he held in his right hand, and his smile faltered. Guilt.

Your felt bad for saying those words. You didn’t really want to make him feel bad. You loved him. And he loved someone else. And that was okay. You couldn’t blame him for it. That’s how life worked, that’s how life has always worked. If people could choose who they loved, you definitely wouldn’t love someone who didn’t love you back.

You made your way to him in silence. Your bare feet only making a small sound against the tiled floor. You placed yourself in front of him, and when you tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear, he looked up at you. His eyes were glassy, and you knew he had been crying over her.

You felt your heart sink in pain, for both you and him. Why weren’t you enough for him? Why was your love not enough for him to forget her and love youinstead?

And against your will, your eyes welled up with tears. And damn him, he noticed. Even in the darkness he noticed. This isn’t what you had planned.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” He grabbed the hand that had tucked away his hair and brought it to his mouth, placing a sweet kiss on your knuckles. And you choked back a sob. Why on earth did he have to do this harder than it was, with his sweetness and gentleness?

He worried when your body shook with sobs, and he got up, towering over you and embracing you in his arms. And you let him hold you. You knew you wouldn’t have this in the mornings to come.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and clung to him for dear life. You wanted him to feel the way you felt. You wanted him to feel all the love you had for him so he could finally understand, so he could loveyou with the same intensity. If only it was as easy as hug.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked as he ran his left hand over your hair while he held you tightly against his body with his right arm.

You felt safe in his arms, safer than you’d ever felt in other men’s arms. And you hated it. You hated that your haven relied on lies. You hated that your sense of safety was a complete fraud.

You wanted to scream, yell at him, punch him in the chest and run away. But instead, you choked out words that left him stunned: “Why can’t you love me?” Your voice was barely a whisper, but in the quiet night, he heard you perfectly. He heard you so loud and clear, it may as well have been a scream.

He stopped stroking your hair, shocked. Of all the things he could’ve thought you were going to say, he never, in a million years, would’ve thought you’d say the words that had just escaped your mouth.

He placed both his hands on your upper arms and pulled you away just enough to see your face. Your gaze was locked on the floor, and your body shook lightly with sobs. His eyes on you were intimidating, and you felt vulnerable. So you wrapped your arms around yourself on instinct in an attempt to feel somewhat protected.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” His voice was soft, and he started brushing your arms with his thumbs. “Talk to me, baby. What was that about?”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You closed your eyes tightly, and the tears that had pooled in them fell freely down your cheeks. You let out a loud sigh and opened your eyes before looking up at him. Your eyes were glassy and red-rimmed. Your face was stained with the tears that kept flowing from your eyes.

Something in his chest snapped, like a twig. He saw the pain in your face, the ache, the loss, the realization. He knew them all too well because that’s exactly what he felt because of someone else. You didn’t have to explain yourself anymore because, suddenly, he knew exactly what you’d meant before. The words that had escaped your lips were the exact same words that had escaped his a while ago, when someone else had broken his heart the way he was now breaking yours.

“Why am I not good enough for you, Bucky? Why is my love not enough for you to forget about her?”

“It is, baby. It is enough. Youare enough. More than enough,” he said in a rush, trying to convince both you and himself.

“Stop lying, please.” Your voice broke.

“I’m not. You are more than enough. Ever since I met you, I’ve had nothing but happiness. Everything is better because you’re with me.” He took your hands in his gently and kissed your knuckles.

“Then why do you keep thinking about her? Why do you keep spending entire nights awake, drinking and thinking about her?”

“I-“ but words failed him. He didn’t have an honest answer to that. And he didn’t want to think right now. He felt you slipping between his fingers, and fear engulfed him. He didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t lose you. Not you. Not the one person who had loved him for who he truly was. He couldn’t lose the one woman who did make his days better. He just couldn’t.

He knew he was being selfish, because despite all the love you had for him, his didn’t even come close. He was very aware that his heart still belonged to someone else, and you didn’t deserve scraps of love from anyone. He knew it. He knew it damn too well. But he didn’t want to think about that right now. He just wanted you to stay. Just for tonight. If only to quiet down the demons in his mind.

He let go of your hands and cupped your face gently. His thumbs brushed away the tears on your cheeks before placing a soft kiss upon your lips. And you knew it was just a trick for you to stay. A trick for you not to leave him alone tonight. Not tonight.

“I love you, Y/N,” he lied against your lips. And it broke your already shattered heart. But you took it. You took it one last time.

A sob threatened to escape you, so you kissed him again, this time more intensely. You wound your arms around his neck, and he picked you up off the floor. You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your feet at the ankles behind his back.

He carried you to his bedroom easily while placing wet kisses on your lips and neck. He didn’t trip, not once. He knew the way too well. And you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d learned that trick when he used to fuck her.

“Bucky,” you called, and he stopped just before entering his room. He looked up at you, and you could see confusion in his eyes.

And fear.

You brushed his hair away from his face gently with both your index fingers, caressing his cheekbones in the process. You cupped his face in your hands and looked him in the eyes; a small sad smile appeared upon your lips. You wanted his face to be imprinted in your mind. You knew this was the last time you’d ever see him. But as much as you were hurting, you didn’t want to forget him at all.

“Babe-“ But you cut him off when you pressed your lips against his in a kiss that begged to last for an eternity.

“Make love to me tonight, Bucky,” you whispered against his lips, your eyes still closed. Your voice was laced with need, but not lust. You needed the last memory of him to be something as close to love as possible, even if he didn’t feel it.

He didn’t reply. He just kissed you back and entered the room. He put you gently down onto his bed, brushing the hair that had fallen on your face away from it oh so gently. He was looking at you with such tenderness that you almost took it for love.

Almost.

“Kiss me,” you whispered, and he obliged.

He kissed you slowly and gently, savoring the taste of your lips, as if he somehow knew this was going to be the last time he’d get to kiss you.

His lips migrated from your lips to your chin. You pushed your head back, exposing your neck while your hands ran softly up and down his sides, and you felt his muscles contract under your touch.

He left a map of wet kisses on your neck, licking and sucking on the spots that he knew made you weak, wrenching soft little moans from your mouth.

He made his way from your neck to your cleavage, licking and kissing the skin that the robe exposed. The fingers of his right hand danced across your left covered breast briefly, barely even touching you, but the action made your nipple harden, pressing up against the flimsy fabric of your robe. His fingers continued their journey down until they reached the belt of the garment. He pulled at one of the ends, undoing the knot. The robe fell open at your sides, exposing your naked body underneath.

He admired the sight before his eyes, running the pads of his fingers over your breasts, your hardened nipples, the valley between your breasts. His fingers made their way down to your ribs, your stomach, circling your belly button. His feathery touch made your muscles contract under it, and when his fingers stopped just above the patch of curls at the apex of your thighs, you gasped; your hips bucking upwards slightly in an attempt to get him to touch you.

He lowered his head and placed an open-mouthed kiss on the hollow between your ribs. His hot breath made you shiver, and when he started working his way lower down your stomach, your legs fell open on their own accord.

When he reached between your legs, he didn’t dive in right away. Instead, he started kissing your inner thighs painfully slowly, alternating kisses, licks and little soft bites that made you whimper with need and anticipation. You could feel your pussy getting wetter by the second. You wanted his sensual torture to end already. You wanted his lips to make contact where you needed it the most.

When he placed both your legs upon his shoulders, you knew what was coming next. He nestled his face between your thighs, and you looked down at him. All the teasing had you all flushed, and he loved the sight. So, looking right into your eyes, he pressed the flat of his tongue against your pussy. Your brow furrowed and your lips fell open slightly. You tried to focus on his face, doing your best not to close your eyes. But that was short-lived when, after a few broad licks across your folds. He captured your clit in his mouth and started sucking gently. You let out a moan and couldn’t help but close your eyes. You let your head fall back onto the soft pillows, and your hands threaded through his soft hair.

He’d alternate between broad licks across your pussy, kitten licks against your clit and sucking on it. The combination had your head spinning, and as time went by, your legs would try to get close together. You were close. He knew it by the way your pussy was flooding with your arousal. So instead of stopping, he sped up. He licked a few times before closing his lips around your clit and starting sucking and licking it at the same time.

He placed both his hands on your thighs and pried them apart as far as he could. Your fingers fisted his hair, and your lips started rocking in circles against his face. And it wasn’t long before your orgasm washed over you in waves.

Your backed arched off the mattress. Your legs closed, trapping his head between them. And when he didn’t let go, you tried to push his head away from your pussy. He lapped up at every single drop of your nectar until he was satisfied.

He made his way back up until his face was in front of yours. He swooped down and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was needier, hungrier, and you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth. You could taste yourself off his tongue, your juices smeared all over his lips and chin.

Your hands traveled down his sides to the hem of his grey sweats. Your thumbs hooked in the hem of them and pushed them down, but he was already painfully hard, his erection was a hindrance. So he stopped kissing you just long enough to get rid of his bottoms completely.

He hovered back over you, placing his elbows on either side of your face. You snuck your left hand between your bodies and grabbed his dick gently. You pumped it a few times before lifting your hips up and aligning his dick with your entrance. The tip was lodged at your opening, and all it took was a soft push from him. He pushed into you gently and slowly while his eyes were locked on yours. Both your mouths parted open in the shape of an o and your brows furrowed in pleasure. A moan escaped both of you in unison. It was the most in sync you’d ever been since you started dating.

Your legs wrapped around his waist and you locked your feet at the ankles. Your hands traveled to his face, your fingers threading into the hair at the nape of his neck. You pulled him towards you in a sweet kiss, and he let his weight drop on his triceps. Now his body was completely on top of yours. You could feel his heat, his breath. You could feel the muscles of his pelvis contract every time he thrust into you.

His lips migrated from your mouth down to your neck. He sucked, licked and nibbled on the spots that he knew made you wet. And you reciprocated by giving his neck the same treatment. Your arms wound under his arms and around his back. Your fingertips danced across his soft skin, and you could feel the way his body reacted under your touch.

You knew he was close by the way his breath hitched in his throat and the way his movements grew more and more erratic. So you wrapped your arms around his body for dear life and started whispering in his ear words of encouragement. You knew the end was close, closer than what you would’ve liked. And you could feel your heart starting to break into a million little pieces.

“Bucky,” you called, and gathering all his will power, he looked into your eyes. “Cum for me,” you whispered.

And he did. Your words and the velvety feel of your tight pussy contracting around his dick were his undoing. He spilled his hot seed inside you, moaning and closing his eyes as he captured your lips in a needy, clumsy kiss.

He let all of his weight fall on top of you, and he nestled his face in the crook of your neck. He took his time to get his breathing back to normal while he stroked your hair and you stroked his back.

This was it.

This was the last time you’d ever see him. The last time you’d ever have him lying on top of you. The last time you’d enjoy the heat of his body, his scent, his kisses, his company. And the realization hit you like a bucket of ice cold water.

You knew that you’d be leaving your heart in his hands the moment you’d walk out his door. But you would also be setting him free. And isn’t that what love is all about in the end?

“I love you,” he whispered upon your neck, his breath tickling your skin, and placed a kiss upon your shoulder.

And up until now, you hadn’t realized that every time he’d said those words, not once had he said them straight to your face. He always hid to say them. Even now, after ‘making love’ to you, he couldn’t bring himself to say those words to you while looking you in the eyes.

A single teardrop fell from your left eye, and it got lost quickly in your hair.

“I love you too, Bucky,” you said in a barely audible whisper.

He lifted his face off your neck and looked at you, a cute, dorky smile curved the ends of his lips. You hadn’t left yet and you already missed him.

“Let’s get some sleep, doll,” he said. You just nodded.

But before he got off of you, he captured your lips in a slow kiss that left you wanting for more. Both of you moaned into the kiss when he finally pulled out of you.

He lied on his back with his right arm outstretched on the bed as an invitation for you to lie on it. So you did. You lied down on your left side, placing your head on his naked chest. His arms wrapped around your body and his fingers brushed lazily the curve of your hip and waist. He let out a content moan and closed his eyes. He fell asleep in seconds.

You looked up at him, and the hand that was resting on his chest traveled up to his face. You let your fingers dance ever so lightly across his features; his damp hair on his forehead, his eyes, the bridge of his perfect nose, his cheekbones, his plump red lips.

Tears started prickling in your eyes –hot and stinging- and you knew it was time to leave. If you stayed any longer, all your resolve would dissolve, and you’d stay. And you wanted to stay. God knew just how much you wanted to. But it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to either of you. So the best thing you could do was to let him go.

You got up slowly and carefully off the bed. You got dressed quickly and placed a neatly folded note on his bedside table. Your eyes went in his direction one last time. If only he could’ve seen the love you had for him written in your eyes, perhaps he would’ve finally reciprocated.

But he never got to. And now, he never would.

You leaned forward and placed a feathery kiss upon his lips. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice laced with pain.

And before your sobs threatened to wake him up, you walked out the door…and out of his life for good.

It was his turn to wake to an empty, cold spot in his bed. It had never happened before. Every time he’d wake up, he’d always find you by his side. And he felt an uneasy feeling in his gut.

He put the covers aside and swung his feet out the bed, placing them on the cold floor. When he made to get up, he saw the folded white note on his bedside table. And his heart fell to his feet.

He didn’t have to read the note to know what it said. He remembered your eyes last night, when you found him in the living room trying to drink her memory away. He knew you’d left. And he knew he’d never see you again.

But he read it anyway.

‘Falling for you was my mistake, and yet, I don’t regret having made it. You gave me comfort when I needed it the most, and I’m sorry I couldn’t do the same for you. I love you, but I can’t keep living a lie. My heart can’t take it anymore. It’s not fair for neither you nor me. So this is me setting you free, Bucky. This is me setting both of us free.Goodbye.’

Snacks & surprises - James B. Barnes

Author: theweirdymcweirderson

Characters: Reader, James B. Barnes, Steve Rogers (for a bit)

Relationships: Bucky Barnes×Reader

Word count: 972

Summary: Bucky finds out the secret the Reader hs been keeping from him.

Warnings: Pet names, Boyfriend!Bucky, fluff, Soft!Bucky, snack stealing, some news, some secrets. That’s it I think, let me know if you fiind more. 

Notes: ‘*Name’ stand for (Y/n), sorry, I’m lazy :) 

You’re tiptoeing your way across the common room, snack bag in hand as you try to silently make your way to your bedroom without being caught. This is the third time you’ve stolen Sam’s snacks in the last week.

“Did you tell him about the baby?”

Steve is leaning back against the wall by the door, and he seems extremely pleased to have caught you on your little snack raid. You glare at him, turning around to check that no one else is in the room with you. 

“No, I didn’t. And there’s no reason for him to find out just yet.”

Your eyes narrow to two thin slits as you challenge Steve. Out of all the people who could’ve found out, Mr. Goody Two-Shoes is the absolute worst.

He doesn’t budge, completely unimpressed by your intimidation tactic and you curse your choice to refuse Natasha’s offer to train with Wanda in the matter; you’ll have to grovel to get her to let you join now. His arms raise to fold across his stupidly built chest, and you scoff.

‘Who the hell does he think he’ll impress that way, anyway?’

“*Name, you have to tell him.”

“And I will. Just give me some time to find, you know, the right time.”

Captain America sighs and you know that you have him. He’s relenting and you have to play it right if you want to win this round.

“Please, Stevie, I just wanna test the waters first; try and ease him into it?”

He nods and you mentally fist bump yourself and smile sweetly at him, clutching the snack bag a little tighter as you jog to your room, not wanting to give him enough time to rethink his concession.

You make your way in, humming contentedly to yourself even though you hate the song stuck in your head; Tony is going to pay for playing it 24/7. Opening the bag, you turn the corner to your room and freeze in your spot when you find Bucky waiting for you.

“Hey there, doll.”

You grin, hoping to look innocently unassuming, but the raise of his eyebrows and the slow, deliberate, smile inform you that you’ve failed. Royally.

“Hi! What- what are you doing here?”

“Last time I checked this is our room, love.”

Of course, you know that. What you don’t know is why he is currently sitting on the bed when he is supposed to be in the lab with Bruce. He’s eyeing you knowingly and if you hadn’t just seen Steve, you would bet your ass that his best friend had spilled the beans.

“Something you wanna tell me, *Name?”

“Uh…nope. Nothing. Got nothing to tell, just you know… nothing. You?”                  

He gets up and starts making his way towards you, and you have to force yourself not to focus on how imposing he is.

‘Fuck him and his stupid serum. And Steve, yeah, fuck him too, cau- Oh no, he’s smiling the smile.’

Ever so gently, he takes hold of your hips, his humongous hands resting comfortably on your sides as he grins down at you. It’s unfair that a wall of a man gets to look so freakishly adorable, who gave him the right? You smile back at him, taking a step closer drawn in by the scent of his aftershave.

“Nothing, huh?”

You nod, shrugging one shoulder while hoping to be a little more convincing; you are most definitely asking for Nat’s advice. Bucky hums, lips pressing together as he holds back his laughter, tongue poking his cheek when your shoulders sag in defeat. You rest the snacks on the desk next to you; the right time seems to have found you after all.

“That’s good, so…care to explain that?”

His hands move from your sides and in a heartbeat, you find yourself span around, your back to his chest as he perches his chin on your shoulder. The metal arm is holding you close to him, curled around your waist while his flesh hand is still resting on your side, fingers spreading to hover over your stomach.

There, in the corner formed by the armrest and the back of the couch is Alpine, napping peacefully as if there weren’t tiny teeth and prickly claws trying to catch his tail. You groan your failure, letting your head lull back to rest on Bucky’s shoulder; face turning to the side to catch his eyes.

“That’s a tiny, itsy-bitsy ball of fluff?”

“Oh, I can see that. What’s she doing here, doll?”

“I… couldn’t help myself?”

He shakes his head, turning back to watch the two cats as Alpine, eyes still closed, paws at the newcomer. The smile is still stretching his lips, and you hold in your breath waiting for his answer. When his teeth sink in his bottom lip and a chuckle rumbles against your back, you know you have won.

“What’s her name?”

You grab at his hand excitedly, pulling him with you towards the couch as you grin.

“I suck at names. Thought we could choose it together?”

You pick the tiny fluffball, turning to face Bucky as you scratch behind its ears. You watch in complete adoration as he brings his hand to play with her and she immediately traps his forefinger between her paws and proceeds to nip at the tip.

“She a feisty one, ain’t she?”

“Yep, knew she’d steal your heart.”

His blue eyes find yours for a fraction and you can read just how elated he is.

‘Oh yeah, fuck Steve and his “Another cat is an important addition. Are you ready for the responsibility?” ass.’

“How about Spunky?”

“Spunky?”

As you try the word on your tongue, the kitten stops her attack on Bucky’s finger and perks up, eliciting a chuckle from the both of you.

“I think she approves.” 

Find more stuff here

plot: bucky is the stableboy and you are the princess and the both of you are in love. bucky needs to leave the kingdom before he is hanged for a crime, but you don’t let him leave without you.

A/N:i haven’t posted on here in a long while. i hadn’t even logged onto tumblr until a month or so ago. it was a compilation of life happening and also i don’t know if i still feel passionate about harry as i used to. i’ve always been writing stories that i wish i could live through, and the past year, i have gone through some of the motions of what i always wanted. it’s strange to come back a whole different person. but i’ve never stopped loving writing, and everyone still following this little blog, and i hope this is the beginning of something more. anyways, this isn’t even about harry. i watched the falcon and the winter soldier  and fell in love with sebastian stan. what can i say. i thought it would be better to post it randomly than have it sit in my google docs. hope u enjoy xx

tw: mentions of attempted assault

The nights in the castle are always quiet, and this never used to bother Bucky—hell, he was even thankful for the quiet after everything he’s been through—but tonight, the silence was eating him alive.

“Doll,” he tries, but the sound gets lost halfway across the room. It’s dark, but he can still see you shaking as you crouch down over Rafe’s body, his blood pooling all the way to the soles of his boots. “Doll—”

“He’s dead.”

It’s the first thing you say that night that isn’t a scream. And he almost wishes it was, because the voice that comes out of your mouth as you whirl around to face him doesn’t sound like you at all. He watches you look down at your hands, covered in a fresh coat of blood, and panic courses through his veins.

And suddenly, he’s on his knees in front of you. “It’ll be okay. Look at me. It’ll be okay.”

You don’t believe him. You’re practically hiccuping with fear as you glance back at the body, and then at him, and back again. Bucky lifts a hand to touch you, but stops when he realizes that his hands are coated in blood too. 

But that wasn’t even the worst of it. The knuckles on his right hand were torn open, and he doesn’t know why he doesn’t feel the hurt at all. He makes sure to hide the frown on his face when you look back at him.

“W-What are we going to do?” you ask. You’re dizzy, and you’re certain that if it wasn’t for the dead body on your bedroom floor that you would’ve passed out by now. You clear your throat and try again. “Bucky, what are we—”

He interrupts you. “We’re not going to do anything.” You furrow your eyebrows as you watch him rise and walk over to the bathroom. You hear the faucet run. You think about the blood flowing down the drain, and it makes you sick.

“Bucky?” You go after him and stand at the threshold between the two rooms. He’s scrubbing his hands furiously. “Bucky, what do you mean we’re not going to do anything? He’s fucking dead. We have to—”

And that word is like an arrow in the middle of his back because he shuts off the sink and spins around to face you in an instant. His chest is heaving as he waves a wet finger at you and says, “There is no we in this, Y/N. I killed him. I cracked his skull open. It is my fingerprints around his neck, okay? You’re going to be fine. You’re going to be perfect.”

“What?” He barrels past you. And that is when you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. You can’t help but let out a gasp.

Your hair is falling loosely around your face, braids be damned. Bruises line all the way around your neck from where he, Rafe, had tried to make you his. Fingernail marks on your collar bones. You don’t want to lift your dress to find out what more of himself he left on you. 

Or what more he could’ve taken if Bucky hadn’t heard your cries and came crashing into your bedroom at the right moment.

You hear the sound of your closet door shutting.

“Bucky, what are you doing?”

He has his bag on your bed and around it, everything of his that you have come to cherish in the past few months. “Darling?”

Bucky pauses at that name. He can’t even lift his head to look at you as he says these next words. “Y/N, I will hang for this. They won’t understand. I will be dead by morning.”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper.

“But it’s true!” He tears his hands through his hair and you are by his side in a second. You hold him as he falls to the ground in tears, hands over his face to hide his fear from you. “Doll, I killed a man. I killed him! I could’ve stopped when I got him off you but… but I didn’t. When I heard your scream and came in a-and saw h-him, I-I—”

You squeeze him tighter as he sobs. You don’t care that you’re both covered in blood. You need him to know you love him. 

“Bucky, you saved me,” you cry. “You saved me. If you hadn’t come in, I… “ Tears spill down your cheeks, but you brush them away and take a deep breath in. “Rafe would’ve been dead soon, anyway. Once my family finds out what he tried to do… it’s only a matter of time before his head is on the chopping block. You did nothing wrong. You saved me, you hear that?”

Bucky turns to face you and you half-expect him to kiss you and tell you that you’re right, and he’s going to be okay, and that this night will just disappear into a bad dream. But his expression hardens and he’s looking down at his hands.

“Even if that were true—”

“It is.”

He sighs. “Nobody would believe me.”

“Buck, what do you mean? They’ll believe me when I tell them what Rafe tried to do.”

“Y/N.” You wince slightly at the sound of your name coming out of his mouth. He rarely called you Y/N. Always Doll. “How do I explain why I was in your corridor at such a late hour, huh? Hell, your maids aren’t even allowed up here in the middle of the night. How would I explain to them that I was near you because I can’t possibly be away from you. That I’ve laid in your bed more times than I can count? They’ll hang me for that regardless. I’m as good as dead.”

“So what now?” You feel your frustration growing. “You’re just going to hand them your head, then? Tie the noose around your own damned neck, huh? Is that what we’re doing now?”

Bucky clenches his fists. “There’s no we, doll. You’re safe from all of this. You’re the fucking princess—”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap. He whips his head up at the change in tone. “I told you to never call me that.”

He laughs and it’s daggers to your heart. “Well, Y/N, you can’t escape who you are. You are the princess and I’m just a stableboy and I should’ve never come close to you. It was my mistake.”

“It was a mistake,” you repeat, the words poison on your lips. “I was a mistake. You regret falling in love with me—”

“Don’t.”

“No, that’s what you said, wasn’t it?” You feel as if you are about to throw up. “You made a mistake, and you wished this all never happened, right?”

“Doll—”

“Don’t touch me.” You shrink away from his grasp and he looks up at you wounded. You think you can taste blood on your tongue. The room is spinning. “You don’t get to touch me after wishing you never did.”

Bucky presses his eyes shut. “I didn’t mean that. I love you. You know I love you so goddamn much I can’t live without you. Waking up next to you every morning is the only reason why I’m not yet dead. But…”

You have your arms crossed over your chest. “But what?” 

“But this was never going to end happily, was it?” His blue eyes are black in the darkness of the room. “This was always going to end with you married off to the prince of god only knows what kingdom, and me left behind. Or you married off, and me hanging in the square.”

“That’s not true,” you choke back a sob. “You and I were going to get married. Are. You and I are going to get married.”

Bucky pleads softly, “Don’t lie to me now, doll, I can’t take it.”

“I’m not lying to you.” You lay a hand on his cheek. “I would never lie to you. Please believe me.”

He holds your gaze for a long moment, and you think you have him convinced. But then at the last second he pulls away and he’s on his feet and throwing his things in the bag again. “If I want to live to see you again, I have to leave now. If I take Shadow, I can get to the next town sometime around dawn.”

You look up at him. Your voice is so soft you can barely hear it. “And then?”

But he does. “And then I’ll bribe my way onto a ship. I can disappear once I’m off this land. Even your father wouldn’t waste money on sending troops across the ocean.”

“And what about me?”

Bucky’s hands come to a still. He doesn’t look down at you. “I’ll write. Under a different name, of course, but I’ll write once I settle down somewhere, I promise.”

You shake your head. “Not good enough.”

“And I’ll come back one day,” he presses, shoving his t-shirt, the one you’ve been wearing for the past few weeks, into the bag. It will smell of you, he knows. “When the dust has settled. When everybody forgets my face, I’ll relocate to a town nearby and….” he turns his head to you, “and I’ll pray every single day to see you again.”

He sinks down to the floor and presses his forehead against yours. “I love you so fucking much. You will always have my heart.”

“Please don’t leave me,” you beg, gripping onto his shirt. You feel a tear drip down to your chin, but you’re not sure if it’s from him or you. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Doll,” he cries. “You know it’s killing me right now to think of a world without you. But this is the only way I can ever see you again. I can’t stay.”

“There has to be another way.” You’re holding onto him desperately. It’s taking everything in Bucky not to fall into you because he knows if he does, there will be no chance of him ever letting go. “We belong to each other. This can’t be how it ends.”

His lips are trembling as he pulls away from you. “I will see you again one day. I promise.”

And then it just falls out of your mouth. “Let me come with you.”

Bucky’s heart nearly stops. “What?”

“Let me come with you,” you say, more determinedly. “We can start again somewhere. Build a new life.”

“Doll, I don’t know about that.”

“Why?” The room around you is no longer spinning because your head is clear. You were going to leave with Bucky. “We’ll just do everything that you just said. Together.” You push yourself off the ground. “Give me a few minutes to gather some things and we’ll leave, okay?”

“No, Y/N,” Bucky follows you to the wardrobe. “Sweetheart, no. You can’t come with me. You can’t leave.”

You are barely processing what he’s saying because your mind has been made up. “Bucky, go get my necklace by the sink for me. It’s my mother’s, I can’t leave it behind.”

“No.”

“Fine, I’ll go get it later.”

“Y/N, can you stop for a second? Can you look at me?”

You turn to face him. He inhales shakily. “I can’t let you do this for me. I can’t let you leave your home and everything you have ever known for me, you hear? It’s not worth it.”

“Bucky, you are worth it,” you press. “I’d rather sleep on the streets with you than in this castle alone.”

“But I don’t want you to sleep on the streets!” He nearly throws his hands up in frustration. “I don’t want you to know what it’s like to… to live anywhere outside of here!”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You don’t think I can make it outside? Because I can. I don’t need anything or anyone except you.”

He raises his eyebrows. “What about your mother? Your father? Your brothers? What about them?”

You hesitate for a second. “I can come back to see them in a few years, like you said. I can send letters—”

“You can’t send letters. What don’t you understand? They’re not just going to let you run away! They might not send soldiers on a ship for me but for you? The kingdom’s sole heiress? The princess—?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“The king will sail to every single land himself to find you.”

Silence.

And then: “Do you love me?”

Bucky blinks. He doesn’t even know how to respond to that.

“Do you love me?” You repeat flatly.

“I-I… of course I love you.”

“Then I’m coming with you. End of discussion.”

“Doll—”

“End of discussion. Now go get my necklace, will you? The sun’s going to come up soon. We’ll need to leave immediately.”

Bucky’s frozen in place. He watches as you slip out of your nightgown and tug on a pair of trousers. You don’t even hesitate to push past your ballroom gowns and reach into the back of your closet instead to dig out more plain tees.

He doesn’t even let his heart lurch at the possibility of spending forever with you, because of one little poisonous thought in his brain: “I don’t want you to fall out of love with me.”

You pause, mid-step into your boots. “Buck, there’s never going to happen.”

“If I take you away from here, one day it will. One day, you’ll wake up and realize that I can’t give you anything more than my love. I can’t give you a castle with servants and a feast for every dinner and diamonds for your wrists and one day, maybe not today, but one day you’ll hate me for it. I can’t live without you, but I would rather be away from you than watch you fall out of love with me.”

You smile sadly, “If you leave me tonight, I will never forgive you. But if you let me come with you, I promise I will never stop loving you. I just need to be with you for the rest of my life. Please let me.”

And Bucky can’t stop himself anymore.

He closes the space between the two of you and presses his lips onto yours. You taste of salt and tears and copper and blood and love and love and love. “I love you,” he says between kisses. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“Promise me you’ll never leave me.”

“I swear on my life.”