Character Pairing: biker!Bucky x librarian!Reader Soulmate AU
Word Count:1705
Warnings: a little cursing, anxiety caused by insecurities
Summary: You nearly gave up on finding your soulmate. You couldn’t greet anyone without stuttering. But all that changes when a leather-clad man walked into the library to get a library card.
Prompt: “I wanted to say ‘I love you’ for the first time without stuttering, but I failed.”
A/N:This is for #jbwinterchallenge hosted by @jurassicbarnes! I’m so so sorry this is so late! Inspiration for the soulmate AU is from the story Pulse, by @tomhollands who was kind enough to give permission to use the idea here. Constructive criticism is welcomed and my tag list is open! Huge thanks to @mindingmyownbusiness for all her help, I wouldn’t have posted my first fic without her, let alone fourth. Also, should I make this a mini-series/drabble series?
This is a repost from my original blog, @the-observant-fangirl
➳summary: When your best friends Peter, MJ, and Ned drag you along to a concert, you never expected to fall head over heels with the band, more so the drummer. Wild and erotic, Bucky Barnes is a rich rock star who gets everything handed to him. Between the money, fame, and platinum records, he has a nasty reputation. But when an innocent girl like you comes along, he can’t stay away.
➳pairing: rockstar!Bucky Barnes x College!Reader
➳warnings: features heavy angst, drug abuse, drinking, partying, cheating
➳summary: When your best friends Peter, MJ, and Ned drag you along to a concert, you never expected to fall head over heels with the band, more so the drummer. Wild and erotic, Bucky Barnes is a rich rock star who gets everything handed to him. Between the money, fame, and platinum records, he has a nasty reputation. But when an innocent girl like you comes along, he can’t stay away.
➳pairing: rockstar!Bucky Barnes x College!Reader
➳warnings: features heavy angst, drug abuse, drinking, partying, cheating
“Bucky?” You called his name groggily as you felt him slip underneath the sheets of the California king-sized bed.
“Shh,”Bucky shushed you and you closed your eyes, snuggling back into the warmth that the blankets provided. The bed began to dip and curve, soon a pair of strong tattooed hands were wrapping around your thighs and pushing them apart. Before you could recognize what was happening, a pair of warm lips started to press kisses to the innermost parts of your thighs, bringing you to gasp.
That was when you realized what had happened. You and Bucky had stayed up practically all night, playing catch-up. It had been officially a week since he left rehab and his entire demeanor had shifted. He was a completely different person; a better man. He was a joy to be around and the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off one another.
Last night was a blur.Of course, no alcohol or drugs had been intermixed, but it was the simple high you two felt off each other. Bucky and you were camped out in his built-in studio, where he attempted to teach you how to play drums. What surprised him the most was the fact that you could play piano and sing, which started turning the creative gears in his mind.
One thing led to another, and a few take-out boxes later, the two of you were settled in a bath filled with warm water and luxury bubbles. You were seated in front of each other, your hands rested on his thighs while he used his thumbs to stroke the length of your hips.
“Thank you for staying,” Bucky whispered to you as you focused on his face.
You giggled, leaning forward to brush your lips across his. Soon, he was pulling you into his lap, warm water sloshing around your naked bodies. He savored every moment he had with you, understanding that life was soshort, that he had to live it to every advantage. He wanted to experience every single high and low with you, no matter what they may be.
“Bucky, I’m proud of you. I can’t ever say it enough.” You smiled, kissing him passionately. When the two of you finally emerged from the bath, you changed into one of his shirts and a pair of underwear, both of you hopping into bed together. You were digging into a container of gelato together, deciding to share the spoon.
You spoonfed him a mouthful of the cold delicacy, watching as Bucky’s eyes rolled at the taste. “You know, without being doped up all the time… I think my senses got stronger? Everything tastes and smells better,” He laughed, kissing you on the cheek with a pair of cold lips.
You giggled loudly as Bucky took the spoon away from you so he could feed you. When you purposely made him miss your mouth and allowed the cold dessert to drip down the corner of your mouth, Bucky’s eyes widened.
“Baby girl,” He whispered huskily.
You smiled, licking your lips. The light in Bucky’s head suddenly turned green and he pounced on you, removing the container of gelato from your hands and throwing the spoon into it. Soon, the drummer had you pinned beneath him as he flicked his tongue over the running gelato, your insides churning. A soft moan ricocheted through the air as Bucky pinned your hands above your head while he kissed your neck, paying close attention to every inch of your exposed neck.
Your hips bucked upwards to meet his, Bucky growling in response. Soon, he was stripping you from his shirt that donned your body, his hands exploring your flesh until you were given over to the heightened pleasure that only Bucky could offer in the moonlight.
Now? You were stirring awake this morning, feeling as his tongue licked a surprising stripe against your heat. A gasp fell from your mouth as you immediately reached to your sides to clutch the sheets. Bucky hummed, sending pleasurable vibrations through your core that somehow managed to shimmy up your spine.
“Oh, Bucky!” You groaned heavily as his lips wrapped around your sensitive bundle of nerves, giving it a delicate suck. He threw your legs over his shoulders and buried his face in between your legs, the light burn of his stubble brushing across your core bringing you to echo a scream.
Bucky used your words as a means to pinpoint. Using his ringed fingers, he pushed two of them into your spongy walls, your insides capturing him immediately. Your head lowered to rest on his head where you curled your fingers around the strands of hair and tugged, earning a delighted groan from your lover’s mouth as he licked into your folds while scissoring his fingers.
Your breaths were coming out in pants as Bucky pushed you over the edge, his name being screamed relentlessly into the air of your shared bedroom. He gripped his hands around your thighs and coaxed a few orgasms out of you, bringing you to the point of overstimulation. You were nearly having to push yourself away from his mouth, but he could see the intense pleasure he brought over you, and it only made him press harder.
He came off your heat with an audible pop before he crawled up the length of your body. Lowering his head, the strands of his jet-black hair tickled your cheeks as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down. Bucky kissed you long and slow, his tongue touching yours for a passionate exchange. You groaned sweetly into his mouth as you tasted your release which coated his tongue, his large palm slipping underneath your back.
Bucky flipped the two of you over so you were straddling his waist, his hand tangling through your hair as he kept you close. Your hips rolled into his, a sticky mess between your legs where his mouth and fingers once were. He felt it on his abdomen and it made him smile wickedly.
“Good morning,” Bucky winked, his blue orbs vibrant and full of life.
“Good morning,” You whispered, lowering your head to his chest. You laid on top of him, your exposed skin pressed together as you hummed while he drew circles into your backside. Bucky held you close as his eyes looked out the large window of his bedroom, watching as the light and view of the ocean met his eyes.
“So, I have a surprise for us…” Bucky announced after silence brewed. Your eyebrows pinched together as you lifted your head.
“A surprise?” You laughed.
Bucky nodded. “We’re getting on a plane tomorrow morning,” He informed you, causing your eyes to widen.
“Tomorrow?!”You exclaimed. Bucky smiled and nodded again.
“It’s a part of my redemption plan,” He breathed out. You looked at him questionably.
“Redemption plan?” You repeated.
Bucky laughed, twirling his fingers across your warm skin. “I think before you start back up with classes, we just need a vacation for ourselves. And since the tour isn’t happening anymore, my time slot has been freed.” He explained.
“Where are we going?” You asked with a hint of excitement lacing your voice. Bucky rolled his eyes playfully and kissed your forehead.
“It’s not a surprise if I tell you!” He reminded you.
“But I hate surprises!” You shot back.
Bucky shook his head. “You’ll be fine until tomorrow morning.”
You sighed heavily. “You’re so mean for that…” You trailed with a smirk. Bucky shrugged his shoulders and planted another kiss on your lips.
“But you love me,” He laughed.
“Yes I do, Barnes…. Yes, I do…” You smiled back at him. “But speaking of surprises, I have one for you, too… We’ll be leaving within the next two hours, so we better get dressed.”
“What is it?” Bucky asked.
You scoffed, choosing to repeat his words. “It’s not a surprise if I tell you!” You winked, rolling off him. You extended your hands and wiggled your hips. “Have a shower with me?” You smiled.
Bucky was flinging himself out of the sheets and racing in behind you, his hands wrapped around your hips. The two of you showered together which also resulted in sex against the wall, but it was worth it. The two of you stepped out, high on your own adrenaline, hurrying to get dressed. You put on a cute yellow sundress while Bucky resorted to his jeans, a gray t-shirt, and his belt. His tattooed arms exposed, you couldn’t help but run your fingers down the length of his arms before pulling him for a delicate kiss.
You two were soon in the car, you asking to drive. You entered the address to the restaurant you were taking him to, his surprise waiting there with nervousness building in the pit of their stomachs.
Bucky and you listened to some of Civil War’s music before you opened up your playlist. Kickstart My Heart by Mötley Crüe played and you shot Bucky a mischievous look.
“That should’ve been your theme song when they pumped those two shots of adrenaline into your heart… Get it? It kickstarted your heart?” You teased behind the wheel of your Ferrari that was purchased the night you two got married, which had been delivered to California.
“Do you think you’re funny?” Bucky asked seriously.
You glanced between him and the radio, soon singing the lyrics while adding a small “Ba-dum tsssss,” For extra hilarity that finally made Bucky burst at the seams.
“I hate you but I love you at the same time, Doll,” Bucky laughed.
You giggled with the sunglasses over your eyes. “I love you too,” You smiled.
Soon, the two of you pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. Bucky’s eyebrows pinched together as he looked around at his surroundings.
“What are we doing here?”He laughed.
You walked around and grabbed his hand.
“There are a few people who want to see you,” You answered quietly, Bucky’s eyes lifting.
As you walked inside, Bucky’s eyes drifted. You saw the table ahead and you smiled to yourself, leading him over. While you approached, they all turned their heads. Bucky’s eyes grew wide as he recognized the three individuals seated at the table.
“Mom? Dad? Becca?” Bucky called their names.
Winnifred, George, and Rebecca Barnes all shifted their eyes up to their son and brother, Winnifred’s eyes brimming with tears. George stood to his feet, Rebecca doing the same.
And for the first time in years, Bucky was engulfed in a hug from his mother, father, and sister. He couldn’t help but burst into tears as he melted into their touch, Rebecca shooting you a smile as she rubbed her brother’s back comfortingly.
➳a/n: MY HEARTTTT! I’M FREAKING OBSESSED WITH THIS CHAPTER AHHH!
➳summary: When your best friends Peter, MJ, and Ned drag you along to a concert, you never expected to fall head over heels with the band, more so the drummer. Wild and erotic, Bucky Barnes is a rich rock star who gets everything handed to him. Between the money, fame, and platinum records, he has a nasty reputation. But when an innocent girl like you comes along, he can’t stay away.
➳pairing: rockstar!Bucky Barnes x College!Reader
➳warnings: features heavy angst, drug abuse, drinking, partying, cheating
➳a/n: MY HEARTTTT! I’M FREAKING OBSESSED WITH THIS CHAPTER AHHH!
➳summary: When your best friends Peter, MJ, and Ned drag you along to a concert, you never expected to fall head over heels with the band, more so the drummer. Wild and erotic, Bucky Barnes is a rich rock star who gets everything handed to him. Between the money, fame, and platinum records, he has a nasty reputation. But when an innocent girl like you comes along, he can’t stay away.
➳pairing: rockstar!Bucky Barnes x College!Reader
➳warnings: features heavy angst, drug abuse, drinking, partying, cheating
I can’t believe it. Today marks freedom. I’ve been in this rehab facility for exactly one month and while many days I nearly ripped my hair out when the cravings got so bad, I discovered resilience. It made it a touch easier knowing that Sam and Steve were here too alongside me fighting off their own addictions, but we all know between the three of us; I was the worst. After all, it took me being clinically dead for two minutes and two syringes of adrenaline to the chest.
I haven’t spoken to Y/N since giving my life over to the faculty. However, I did bring this journal with me and although Y/N never mentioned to do it, I decided to journal my thoughts. My own personal diary of my account. Maybe one day I can help those who have also struggled with addiction. But for now, my main concern is getting better not only for the wife who I hope doesn’t decide to seal our fate with a divorce, but for myself. I can’t keep living like this.
I’ve realized that I want more in my life than platinum records and adoring fans. I want a family. I want to be an inspiration for people, not someone who they looked to in remembrance of dirty deeds. I’ve thought about Zemo a lot. He was my friend and while I wished things would have turned out better for him, I’m one of the lucky few who received a second chance in life. At first, I wasn’t sure why someone like me was being offered that second chance, until I realized;
Y/N. I’ve discovered that I’m head over heels in love with her and even if she doesn’t choose to stay with me, I won’t be angry. I’ve put her through so much hell the last three months that I wouldn’t want to be with me either. I’ve never been more ready to see a woman in my entire life. First, I want my relationship with her repaired and then I’ll hopefully make amends with others who I’ve hurt on this dangerous path.
My parents.
My sister.
Sobriety is going to be a big change for me, but a change that’ll be worth it in the end. I understand the consequence of my actions and now, I want to repair the damage.
“Bucky, are you ready?” The friendly nurse smiled in his direction as she knocked on the door. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt along with his leather jacket. His raven locks of hair had grown out a touch and he reminded himself to get a haircut once he was settled in at home.
“You bet… Thanks for all you’ve done, Sarah.” Bucky smiled at her as he stood to his feet. As he walked out of the room, he was reunited with Steve and Sam. They both had brightened eyes and a look of relief covering their faces.
“How are you feeling, Buck?” Steve asked as he realized all the color in Bucky’s face had returned.
Bucky nodded his head. “I feel like a brand new man.” He said, clasping the blonde on the shoulder. As they began their journey to the front door while the faculty congratulated them on graduating from rehab, they all broke out into solid grins. While they embarked for the door, you and Natasha were waiting outside for them to emerge.
“I’m nervous… I haven’t seen him in a month.”You whispered, feeling as your palms were coated with a sweat. You stood outside of the rehab center where Bucky had driven himself to after getting out of the hopsital for his overdose. Your nerves were jumbled and you just hoped that this was the beginning of a new chapter.
“It’ll be okay,” Nat smiled, rubbing your shoulder as she watched the doors like a hawk. You drew in a deep breath as you rolled onto the balls of your feet and back down, your insides twisting with a nauseating feeling.
Praying that she was right, you closed your eyes. Suddenly, the sound of the automatic doors separating caught your attention. Natasha’s hand tightened on your shoulder as she saw Steve and Sam pushed their way forward, wearing big smiles.
You reopened your eyes and your heart fluttered intensely in your chest when your eyes rested on him.He looked so much different.The color had returned to his face, the dark circles vanished. His eyes scanned the area, obviously in search for you. When they landed on you, Bucky released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
Tears welled in your eyes at the sight of him. Bucky also felt his blue orbs glisten with tears and his chest jumped violently. His heart was thrown into overdrive as he craved to hold you. You watched when he started to quicken his steps, you doing the same. Not able to contain it any longer, you sprinted. Bucky gasped when he saw you running toward him at full-speed.
Opening his arms, Bucky caught you as you jumped into them. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he gripped onto you. His face buried into your neck, both of you started to cry in each other’s embrace.
“I’ve missed you so much,” Bucky called out, kissing your neck.
You clung onto him tighter as his arms held you close to him. “I’ve missed you too,” You whispered pulling back. Bucky’s eyes scanned your face and you couldn’t wait any longer. Holding his cheek, you leaned in and kissed him deeply.
Bucky was shocked at first, but he melted into your lips. You kissed him harder and it seemed as if time around you stood still. As you finally gained the courage to pull away for a breath of air, you licked your lips and stared at him. Bucky had a lot on his mind and while he was gone for a month, he decided that you deserved much better.
“How do you feel?” You asked him quietly.
Bucky nodded. “It was rough… But I pulled through. Each day got a little better. I had you on my mind the entire time.”
You smiled widely, nodding. “I’m so proud of you,” You whispered.
Bucky laughed, his eyes brimming with tears. “I’m so ready to go home,” He breathed out. You nodded your head, allowing him to set you on the ground. You pulled out the keys to his Ferrari which you had driven and passed them over.
“Lead the way, drummer,” You smiled, wrapping your arm around his waist. Bucky laughed, kissing your cheek as he led the two of you over to the car. He pulled open the passenger’s side door, making you squeal. Rushing to the driver’s side, he was soon putting the top down and flashing you a wide grin.
Just as he started the drive, you leaned over and kissed him softly. “I love you,” You told him. Bucky’s heart sped up.
“I love you too,” He smiled, kissing you back.
Soon, the two of you were winding down the road towards his home in Malibu.You had been staying in the home. Bucky informed someone to give you the keys to the house and make it yours.You had less than a month left before you would have to return to Brooklyn for college, yet you were somewhat dreadingit.
“What are you thinking about?” Bucky asked, turning the radio down low.
You bit into your lip. “Classes start back up next month,” You cleared your throat. “Ned, Peter, and MJ went to Spain.”
Bucky’s eyes widened. He remembered how you were supposed to do the same before he convinced you to join the tour.
“Doll, why didn’t you go?” He asked.
You looked at him through your eyelashes. “Because I wanted to be here for when you got out of rehab.” You informed him honestly.
Bucky’s heart swelled at your revelation. “And honestly? I love California,” You breathed out. “…Also, turns out that I get to graduate a semester early. So instead of fall of next year, I’ll walk for my degree in May of next year. So, two more semesters and I’m finished… Which they’re letting me go online for.”
Bucky’s eyes lit up. “What are you trying to say to me?” He laughed.
You smiled, wrapping your hand through his. “I’m saying that… I want to work on us.I’ve had a lot of time to think about the last two months, and I want to do things right.So, I’m staying in California… If you’ll have me.”
Bucky grinned. “Baby, I wouldn’t want it any other way.” He announced.
When the drive ended and you two were parked in front of the Malibu mansion, you and Bucky hurried your way inside. As he made it through the front door, he stopped in his tracks. To his recollection, he hadn’t stepped foot inside of his home since before the tour started. It was a bittersweet moment for him, one that he had to take a second to himself for. And when he looked over to see his wife standing there, he bit his lip.
“What?” You giggled as you walked forward.
Bucky shook his head. “It’s just surreal to see you standing inside of this place with me.” He shrugged.
You grinned. “Well, I’ve done a little bit of redecorating. Natasha’s helped keep me occupied when I tried to run myself crazy over you.” You giggled. “New curtains… I may have ordered a new bed for your room… Or, our room. Bucky, this place is gorgeous. Everything about it, I love it.” You expressed.
Bucky smiled proudly. As he walked through, he remembered that alcohol was in the fridge. You noticed the way he eyed the appliance and you quickly cleared your throat.
“I got rid of it all,” You announced.
Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
You nodded. “Every ounce of alcohol in the house both hidden and in plain sight, it’s gone. I scoped out the entire house. You’re okay.”
Bucky felt his heart swell in his chest.
“How did I get so lucky?” He asked quietly.
Laughing, you shook your head. “I want to make this work, Bucky. And it’s going to take us becoming a team.I stopped drinking, too. It’s not fair to you if I participate in it.”
Bucky couldn’t contain himself any longer. He walked forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in tight. You gasped when his lips found yours, giving you a very passionate kiss. You moaned softly into his mouth, your hand wrapping around the back of his neck. Curling your fingers around the strands of his hair, you smiled against his lips.
“Come on! I want to show you what all I’ve done!” You squealed, grabbing his hand.
Bucky burst out laughing, tanging his hand through yours.
He was hooked. He was so in love.
And now he was on a mission to make it all right again…
A/N: Part 6 is here you beautiful people! Feedback and reblogs are much appreciated. And let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list!
Summary: Imagine being an FBI agent and the daughter of Wolverine. You used to be a a black widow and Hydra assassin as well as a part of Bucky’s past, a past that he had forgotten over time, until one day, he sees your face shadowed behind the public eye, like an apparition, as if you didn’t exist. Confused over your existence and questioning whether what he saw was real, Bucky finds himself scrambling to search for clues that would lead to who you are and why he feels as if he had seen you before. You on the other hand had moved on, starting a new life for yourself and even finding yourself working with a certain lawyer. After the horrors you faced, you wanted to leave your past behind you, eventually forgetting mostly everything that ever happened. That is until the former Winter Soldier brings those memories all back.
Warnings: language, angst, blood and violence, and a slightly steamy scene towards the end. This chapter briefly mentions a crime scene that involves the assault and murder of a minor so read at your own risk.
It felt as if the world was swaying around you, shifting in and out of focus. Your head was spinning, reeling over and over with the name that was written across the card in maroon ink. That 5 letter name. Laura. There was only one person that went by the name Laura that you knew, and it was your sister. You had been too absorbed on the events before; beginning with the things that Matt had said to you, then the body of the dead girl and the vision you had of her, and now your sister. It couldn’t be a coincidence, your sister’s name written across a card right after you investigated into the murder of the girl. It had to be be him, the killer, the same man that raped and killed that little girl and left her body out in the woods to rot. You knew it the moment when you picked it up, you could smell his perfume off the small piece of cardstock. What you didn’t know was how he had managed to sneak past the other feds and officers to get to your car. And how he had come to know about your little sister was beyond you. You had worked hard to keep everything about your past a secret, and it seemed as if everything was slowly spilling out of the abyss you had locked those secrets in in the first place. First the confrontation with Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes, and now that bastard who now had the deaths of 4 underage girls on his hand. Your sister’s name on that card was a threat. And you were going to get to him before he could get to her or anyone else ever again.
You arrived at your apartment after what had felt like days worth of driving, unlocking the door and slamming it behind you before hurriedly locking the special lock you had made for it.
“Hey. You okay?” Your heard Yelena’s voice speak up from where she sat on your armchair in the corner, setting her book down on the table once she saw the troubled look on your face as you went over to the window to search the streets. “Y/n?”
“Hm?” You turned towards her with a distant look behind your eyes. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“I thought we promised each other no more lies. We even made a pinky promise.”
“…….Sorry.” You shook your head, letting out an exasperated sigh and pinching the bridge of you nose.
“Y/n. Is something going on?” Yelena stepped up to you with a concerned look on her face as she placed a hand on your arm.
“I think Laura is in danger.”
“Your sister? Why? What happened?”
“Have you heard about those missing girls whose bodies were found in rivers?”
“Yes.” Yelena blinked, confused by why you were bringing this up as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I heard about it in the news.”
“Yeah well. I was called to investigate his new murder victim and when I left the crime scene I found this on my car.” You handed the card.
Yelena stared down at the card in her hands, her eyes running over Laura’s name with a clenched jaw.
“Tell me that’s not a coincidence.” You started to pace the room with your hands on you hips as sweat started to build at your forehead.
“How do you know it’s him?”
“I’m pretty damn sure it’s him. I can smell his stench off it. Clive Christian’s Original Collection.”
“Clive what?”
“It’s his cologne. I smelled the same thing off the girl’s dead body.”
“Do you know who it is?”
“Yeah, I looked him up on the way here. Some rich executive named Harrison Ross. The bastard is holding some kind of Gala tonight as if he didn’t just kill a little girl. Jesus fucking Christ……….How does he know about Laura?”
“Maybe he had someone follow you and overheard you talking about her?”
“Shit.” You shook your head, placing both your hands on top of your head, thinking back to the time that you had dinner with your dad at the pub. Considering how many people were there, it’s possible that any one of them could have been working for Ross. “This is all my fault.”
“What? No. None of this is your fault.”
“But still. If I had been more careful-” You stopped, turning towards your front door at the sound of footsteps.
“Who is it?” Yelena followed your gaze, her hand slowly reaching for her gun at her hip.
“It’s my dad, and Laura. They just got out of the elevator.” You breathed out before turning back to her. “Listen, I need you to look after Laura.”
“What, why? Y/n, what are you going to do?”
“What I have to do.”
“Am I supposed to know what that means.” Yelena hissed, making sure to keep her voice low so that your father would not overhear.
“Just promise me that you’ll look after her. My dad can’t know about this or else he’ll freak the fuck out and go on a rampage.” You grabbed Yelena’s hands. “Promise me you’ll do that.”
“……..Okay. I uh, I promise.”
“Thank you.” You gave her a hug before handing her a piece of paper. “I’m going to need you to take yourself and Laura to the address that’s on there.”
“Wait….isn’t this where-”
“Yeah I know. It’s the safest place you could be. Tell Stephen I owe him one.”
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’m just going to go to the Gala tonight and lock his ass up in jail and that’s it. I’ll be fine.” You reassured her, but the words seemed to hold no meaning, as if they were directed more towards you, a consolation of what tonight’s events might lead to, praying that whatever happened would lead to the better end of the alternatives. At this point, you weren’t so sure just what you were about to do.
Just a second later after you had finished your sentence, your front doorbell had rang. Taking in a deep breath and banishing the dark cloud that was held over your head, you went over to open it to see you father Logan and your little sister Laura standing out front.
“Hey kiddo.” Logan smiled at you.
“Look who it is.” You smiled back, going into his embrace as he kissed the top of your head.
“Geez.” Your father scrunched up his nose. “You smell like shit.”
“Yeah well you smell like cigars and cheap whiskey.”
“Hey.” Logan put his hands on his hips, amusement written on his face. “Sometimes the cheap stuff tastes better than that expensive fruit juice that you get.”
“I know my wines. You just have terrible taste.”
“I’m serious. You smell like you cuddled up to roadkill. The hell did you do, roll around in a cemetery?”
“I uh, just got back from a crime scene actually.”
“Sorry, sounds like shit. Who’s this?” Logan nodded behind you.
“Oh! Dad, you remember Yelena Belova.”
“Hi Y/n’s dad.” Yelena waved shyly before stuffing her hands in her pockets.
“Nice to meet you.” Logan gave her a polite nod before studying the features of your face. “Hey, you don’t look too good.”
“Huh? Yeah, I uh, haven’t been getting much sleep lately.”
“Something to do with your job huh. How’s the investigations?”
“Good. I mean, not good obviously because people are dead. But we have some leads and hopefully we’ll have the suspects apprehended before tomorrow.”
“Sounds like you need a vacation.”
“Bad guys don’t rest so neither do I.” You sighed, pushing back a strand of your loose hair before bending over to level yourself to your little sister with a soft smile. “Hey there Laura. How’s it going?”
"Laura say hi to your sister.” Logan gave her a small nudge.
You maintained the strained smile on your face, trying your best to seem as friendly as possible. You were happy to see her no doubt the less, especially since you never had much time to spend with her due to your work schedule and her being in school, but the look she gave you told you otherwise. Laura face was stoic underneath her sunglasses, and it seemed as if there wasn’t a single thought nor regard towards you in her eyes as she walked straight pass you into your apartment before plopping down on the couch without a single word in your direction, even ignoring Yelena’s little hello.
“Yup.” You popped your lips before standing back up. “She definitely hates me.”
"She doesn’t hate you. She’s just shy.” Logan quirked a brow at your pessimism before handing you her little suitcase. “Here’s all her things.”
“I’m pretty sure her eyes are filled with a deep resentment towards me behind those little sunglasses of hers. It’s like I shit in her bowl of cereal or something. Good thing she’s not Scott’s kid or else I would’ve been fucking obliterated by now.” You scoffed as you took Laura’s suitcase from him and set it to the side.
“If she hated you, we’d know. Just give her time.” Logan sighed. “She was like that towards me when I first met her. And watch your language around her. Don’t need her learning from our bad habits.”
“I’m sorry,” you sassed, holding your finger up to make a point, “but didn’t I just hear you say the poop word like two times now.”
“Yeah well I’m doing my best.”
“Well the resemblance is uncanny I’ll give you that.” You sighed as you rested your hand on your hip and turned back to see Laura sitting there with a scowl on her face. “The scowl, the brooding, the whole fuck off attitude and even right down to the eyebrows. She is 100% you’re kid.”
“Yeah and so are you.” Logan scoffed. “You nearly broke my nose when you first saw me, remember? And you’ve got a hell of a colorful language.”
“Looks like I got it from you.”
"Guess I raised you right then.” Logan chuckled. “You know, the professor position is still open back at the school. You wouldn’t have to put up with this anymore and you could finally get some damn good rest.”
"No, I know. You’ve mentioned it to me before but I just…I can’t just leave you know. Those criminals are still out there, hurting other people, innocent people.”
“What you mean to say is those badge wearing bastards have you in a chokehold.”
“Yeah well I could’ve been locked up forever for the crimes I committed.”
“Yeah, crimes you had no control over doing. Don’t those brains of theirs know those Hydra and Red Room bastards had you wired up.”
“It doesn’t work like that dad. And besides, I volunteered for this job, thought it would do me good.”
“Yeah, it’s doing you good alright. You look the same from when I first rescued you from Hydra, sleep deprived.”
“Well this isn’t exactly an easy job.” You snarked as you tried to maintain your point. “I knew what I signed up for dad. And to be honest, putting those criminals behind bars is worth every goddamn minute.”
“I know, I get it. I just don’t want you to get caught up in the same mess like I was. You’re still young.”
“Well I wouldn’t really call myself young.” You scoffed.
“I know that. There’s still time you know, for you to move on with your life and find something that doesn’t involve all this.” Logan leaned on your doorframe with his arms crossed. “I was thinking we all can move down to Canada. Build a home by the lake like you always wanted where you, me, and Laura can live in, together, as a family. You can even have all the animals you want.”
"I know. With mom gone it’s just-” You sighed, staring down at your hands and picking at the skin on your fingers. “I just….feel like I haven’t done enough for all the things that I had done, ya know?”
“If you keep letting the past haunt you and trying so desperately to go down that path of redemption you’re gonna find yourself stuck in a hole you can’t get out of.”
"Well, what can I say. We’re Howletts, it’s what we do.”
“Yeah.” Logan let a low chuckle. “You know, you could always take up boxing, or mma, go fight in the ring, make more money than you do here.”
“What, like what you did?” You scoffed with an amused raise of your brow. “You fought underground dad.”
“Yeah so. I can be your trainer and we can nickname you Iron Fist.” Logan teased.
“I’m pretty sure that’s taken.” You laughed.
“It is? What kinda punk took that name huh. Bet his fists aren’t even made of Iron.”
“Yeah okay dad.” You rolled your eyes.
“I’m serious. The offer at the school is still open.”
“…………I’ll think about.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Atta girl.” Logan ruffled your hear with a chuckle much to your annoyance. “Well I’m about to head out now.”
“So soon?”
“Yeah. I gotta get on the road.”
“Well it was nice seeing ya dad.” You smiled.
“Nice seein ya too kid. Just remember to be careful, don’t want ya to loose sight of who you are.”
“I won’t.”
“And if ya got any problems, I’m a phone call away. I’m here if you need me kid.”
You put on your best smile, trying your best not to think of the dead girl and the picture of her pale and stone-like face. After finding the card with Laura’s name on it, this new fear had suddenly overcome you, a fear that had shook you to the core more than anything you had ever experienced. The last time you were this afraid, you were captured for the Black Widow program and Hydra, but this, this was something else. Now you were terrified for the life of someone else, someone you cared about, and the thought of your sister lying dead in those cold dark woods made your blood run cold. You didn’t know what this killer was capable of, but one thing was for certain, you would rather risk your own life than let that pathetic excuse of a human come close to your sister. Logan trusted you with Laura’s life, and you were going to keep that promise. But you couldn’t let your father know about what happened, and though the thought of it irked you, it was a good thing you were trained at a young age to lie. “Thanks dad. I appreciate it, really.”
“Love ya kid.” Logan gave you one last hug and a kiss at the top of your head before saying his goodbyes to Laura and leaving down the hallway.
You watched him disappear into the elevator with a frown on your face, your fists clenching at your side before closing the door and staring into the worried face of Yelena. “You should pack a few things for yourself.”
Yelena stared back at you with a darkened look, her eyes searching yours while the ends of her lips turned down at the ends. “Y/n, I’m worried about you.”
“I know, I know. But you have to trust me on this. Please Yelena.”
“I already lost Natasha.”
“I know, I get it Yelena. But you have to trust me.”
“……….Fine. Fine. yah okay. But if you don’t make it back I swear-”
“You’ll find me and kill me yourself, I get it.” You looked at the time, seeing that it was only 3. “You should get ready to go.”
“…..okay.” Yelena sighed with a small nod of her head before going off to pack her things.
You looked down at your sister who had not moved from her seat on the couch, her face unmoving as she flipped through the channels on your TV. Going to the kitchen, you opened up the freezer to grab a small carton of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream and a spoon before sitting next to her on your couch. “Hey.”
Laura did not give a single response as she flipped through various channels before stopping on a channel that was playing Shrek.
“Good choice.” You glanced at the tv with a nod of approval. “I bought you ice cream btw. Little birdie told me you like Ben & Jerry’s Strawberry Cheesecake ice cream. And since dad is not one for knowing how to shop for groceries much, especially desserts, I bought you four of these so you can eat to your heart’s content.”
Laura looked at you sideways, glancing up at your face before eyeing the carton of ice cream in your hands.
“Go on, it’s all yours.” You handed her the carton and the spoon, smiling in relief as she finally took them from you after a moment of hesitation before opening the lid and popping a whole spoonful in her mouth.
“You know, Shrek is one of my favorite movies to watch. I can quote the whole movie from front to back, but don’t tell anyone I told you that.” You sat back with a smirk as you watched the movie with her for a bit until your phone began to ring in your pocket causing an annoyed sigh to escape your lips as you picked it up. “Hello?”
“Y/n?”
“Matt?” You scrunched your nose in confusion. Your irritated tone had caused Laura to side glance at you and listen in on the conversation to figure out what could have upset you. “The hell. You tryna give me a reason to block you?”
“Wha-no, no……..Is that….Shrek in the background?”
“Yeah. My sister is staying with me for a couple of months. The hell are you calling me for Murdock.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that.”
“Whatya need Matt?”
“I uh-might need your help.”
“Oh yeah?” you scoffed. “Seems like you’re asking an awful lot of favors from me lately.”
“I know…….I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m-urgh.” You heard him let out what sounded to be a pained groan on the other end.
“Jesus fucking christ. You’re hurt aren’t you.”
“…Yes.”
“And let me guess. You need me to come over to your place to patch you up because I definitely as hell ain’t letting your ass in my apartment.”
“………yes.”
“Christ’s sake Matt. Don’t you have any lady friends of yours that are nurses or doctors? In case you didn’t know the difference, I’m a psychiatrist, not a surgeon.”
“I know. But the nurse that I know is out of town and you’re the only other person that I trust.”
You let out a frustrated sigh, running your fingers through your hair before rubbing your temples. “……..Okay. Fine. I’ll head out right now.”
“Thanks y/n.”
“Don’t mention it.” You hung up before getting up from the couch and grabbing your keys from the counter.
“Were are you going?” Yelena questioned once she saw you searching for something.
“I gotta go uh….help an acquaintance. Would you happen to have a first aid kit by chance?”
“Yeah. I put it in your cabinet there. You don’t have one?”
“Well it’s not like a need one.” You scoffed as you opened up the wooden cabinet you had by the door and grabbed the first aid kit before throwing on your shoes. “Just make sure to keep an eye out yeah. And if anything happens, call Stephen, he’ can get here much quicker than I can. His number is on the paper I gave you.”
“I can handle myself.” Yelena raised her brow.
“I know you can. But you’re also human, and we don’t know anything about the possible threat. I’ll be back in about an hour and a half to two hours.”
You arrived at Matt’s apartment complex not long after, pulling your car up to the curb and letting the rumble of the engine run for a moment as you stared up at the the windows that belonged to his place. “God damn it Matt.” You cursed under your breath before getting out of your car and heading up to his place. You tapped your knuckles lightly on his door, hearing the sound of shuffling coming from inside until the door opened to reveal a rather disarranged looking Matt.
“Wow. You look like shit.”
“Thanks for the compliment.” Matt gave you an unamused smile before letting you inside.
“I see you’ve done absolutely nothing to cheer up your place. Dull as always.” You looked around with a distasteful look on your face as you swiped your finger on one of his tables to see dust coating your fingertip. “Yikes. This place could use a proper clean too. I wouldn’t be surprised if traces of the bubonic plague could be found here.”
“Haha very funny. You here to do an inspection?”
“Um, considering I have to be here, physically in this place of yours, yes. Now get your ass on the couch and take off your shirt.” You set your purse down on the table, opening it up to pull out the first aid kit before heading to the sink to wash your hands.
“How’s your sister Laura?” Matt called out from his spot on the couch.
Your breathing hitched just the faintest at the mention of her name, squeezing your eyes shut against the image of her name written across the card in large maroon letters. “She’s uh, she’s doing good. She hasn’t spoken a word to me but she’s good.”
“That’s good to hear. At least you get to spend some time with her.”
“Yeah.” You shook your head, banishing any thoughts related to the case and the event later tonight as to keep Matt from getting suspicious. “I have your file btw. I left some notes in there.”
“Wait, you’re done?” Matt blinked his eyes with a scrunch of his nose before turning his head towards where you stood by the sink. He was surprised that you had already gone through the file and made up a conclusion, especially since he had handed it to you this morning. “That was fast.”
“What can I say.” You let your hands dry off before walking over to where Matt sat on the couch. “I’m good at what I do.”
“Which is why I asked for your help.”
“Oh yeah?” You raised a brow as you slipped on a fresh pair of latex gloves. “Is that also why you called me here now instead of I don’t know, contacting someone else like Foggy.”
“Maybe. Or maybe I just like the sound of your voice.”
You scoffed at his statement with a shake of your head, trying to keep down the blush that started to spread through your cheeks and thankful for the fact that Matt couldn’t see it. “And how many other girls have you said that to? 5? 10?”
“Ahah.” Matt let out a soft chuckle. “Well maybe one.”
“Oh? So just one?”
“Okay, so maybe 2 others.”
“2 meaning 3 or 4.” You teased as you sat yourself down on his coffee table to start on his wounds only to let out a hiss at the sight of him. Large bruises and deep gashes lined his torso, painting a picture of grisly along with a cut that went down his forehead, stopping right below his temple. “Jesus Matt.”
“Judging from the tone of your voice, I don’t look too good.”
“Yeah no shit Sherlock. The hell happened? You get into a fight with Freddy Kreuger?”
“I guess you could call it that.”
“You guess?”
“Well the guy was pretty huge…..and he had a sword.”
“A big guy with a sword. Huh, sounds like Wade.”
“Who’s Wade?”
“This vigilante I ran into once. Likes to talk a lot, super annoying, but kinda funny. Did your guy crack any jokes?”
“Nah. No my guy was pretty quiet, spoke in short sentences.”
“Yeah that’s definitely not Wade.” You opened up the first aid kit and stared at the contents inside. “He would’ve shit at your little costume. Where is it anyways? Did you forget it at the dry cleaners for this fight?”
“I uh, need to get a new one.”
“Yeah. You do that.” You scoffed with a shake of your head. “So…..you see a big guy with a sword and you think it’s a good idea to tango with him. You know, for someone with a law degree from Columbia University, you sure as hell are an idiot.”
“So I’ve been told.” Matt chuckled.
Grabbing some cotton and disinfectant, you gently swabbed at his wounds, wiping off any excess blood and making sure to get rid of any possible traces of bacteria. You felt Matt’s muscles tense under your touch as he let out a hiss, looking up at his face to see his eyes shut in pain. “Hey…..you need some anesthetic for the pain?”
“Nah, I’m fine, thank you.”
You shook your head with a sigh, focusing on your less dominant hand and causing a small fire to be ignited from within your palms, the red tendrils weaving through your fingers as you held it up to your eye level.
“Wha-what are you doing?” Matt tilted his head after sensing the sudden change in temperature. He couldn’t help but feel apprehensive from the unnatural source of heat that sprouted from your hands, afraid that it might somehow spin out of control. After all, he wasn’t used to this sort of thing, especially not in person.
“I need to sterilize the needle before I start stitching up your wounds.” You muttered as you held the needle up to the flame, watching the point of the metal turn red. “And relax. I got it under control.”
“Thought you wouldn’t read my mind.”
“Well maybe try not to think so damn loud next time.” You smirked.
“I’ll uh, do my best, Doctor.”
You rolled your eyes at Matt’s comment before distinguishing the flame, letting the needle cool down for a bit before beginning to stich up his open wounds, causing Matt to wince each time the needle pierced his skin. “You know, you really gotta be careful next time.”
“Is that-don’t tell me you care about me Agent Howlett.” Matt gave you his signature smirk behind those glasses of his, the action causing your cheeks to heat up again while you only forced to keep your heart rate the same so that he wouldn’t notice.
“You know, considering that I’m the one with a needle in hand, I’d choose my next words wisely.”
“What if I don’t?”
“Well Matthew Michael Murdock, if that’s the case, I just might have to stab you.”
“Well what if I just like to get you riled up?”
You let out a scoff, his words catching you off guard. “You’ve got a lot of confidence for someone who gets their ass kicked all the time.”
“Ouch that hurt.” Matt feigned an insulted expression to which you let out a small laugh with a shake of your head.
“Keep talking. I’ve got plenty of insults.” You joked, straightening up a little to work on the cut on his forehead while Matt chuckled, smirking at the way you reacted.
There was a short silence between the two of you, the air around you returning to it’s serious atmosphere while you worked on his last wound until you heard Matt’s voice speak up again.
“Does it hurt?”
“What?” You scrunched your nose.
“Your hands, when they come out.”
“……Every time.”
“How do you go through with it?”
“I just do. The same way you keep fighting despite being beat up.”
“What about the fire?”
“It did at first. Shit. It hurt like hell the first time because I didn’t know how to control it while it engulfed every inch of me, especially since my body kept trying to heal. But once I learned to harness it, control it, it didn’t cause anymore pain. Now it just feels like being wrapped in a warm blanket.”
“At least you won’t need a heater during the winter months.”
“Yeah. I guess not.” You laughed at his little joke, finding yourself gazing at him with a smile once you had finished up his last wound before clearing your throat. “You’re uh. You’re all done by the way.”
“Thanks for this y/n. Really.” Matt smiled at you. “It means a lot.”
“Yeah well…..couldn’t have you bleed out in your own apartment now could I?”
“No, I guess not.” Matt smirked before tilting his head towards you, bringing his hands up to caress your cheek while he did so.
You ever so slightly gasped at his touch, his thumb leaving trails of goosebumps in its path against your skin. “Matt.” You breathed out with your eyes fluttered closed. You wanted to pull away, terrified of what this would lead to and yet, you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, tempted to be able to feel something for once. And though you tried so desperately to not let your feelings show, Matt knew the hold he had on you. But he also was aware of the hold you had on him, and it drove him over the edge. You found yourself reaching for him, your hand placing itself on his thigh to steady yourself while your breaths fanned each others faces.
“Y/n, about what happened before-”
“Oh shut up.” You cut him off before crashing your lips against his.
Matt sat frozen for a second, surprised by your movement before molding himself into your lips, his hands finding a way to your waist to pull you flush against him before resting a hand on the curve of your back. Matt moaned against your lips, craning his head out towards you with half shut eyes as you pulled away with a smirk at the sight of him being a mess beneath you while you placed your hand on his chest, pushing him down onto the couch before straddling his waist. Sliding your hand up to the bottom of his neck, you bent down to make out with him, your hand slowly making its way up against his skin before finally reaching the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. Running your fingers through his hair, you dragged your nails down his scalp, biting his bottom lip as you did so before clutching his hair and pulling his head back, eliciting a grunt of arousal to escape from his parted flushed lips. Smirking, you placed your lips behind his ear, pressing kisses down his jaw and neck while his hands slid up your thighs to clutch at the soft flesh of your hips while you grinded down against him. Matt let out a groan, bringing his hand up to wrap around your neck before reconnecting his lips with yours.
The two of you were a panting mess, both of your heightened senses making the current moment much more intense than if you didn’t possess the abilities you had. Matt’s hands were warm against your body, leaving goosebumps wherever they went despite you being fully clothed. Yet yours were life fire against his, your body heat raising in temperature from the way you felt. You felt Matt’s hand slide away from your neck, his fingers tracing up your skin in patterns and making its way to your hair before stopping at the touch of ice cold metal meeting his fingertips. The action had felt like an electric shock running through your spine, the brief contact making you gasp in fear as you yanked yourself away, moving yourself off him and pushing yourself back towards the opposite end of the couch.
“Y/n?” Matt had sensed your emotion, noticing how your heart rate had sped up incredibly and the way you had flinched away from when his fingers came into contact with the strange metal device that was embedded into your skin right below the back of your head near the top curve of your neck. “You okay?” Matt asked, but you did not answer.
Your eyes were glossed over, your body trembling as various images flashed before your eyes. You saw yourself in an operating room, fully awake and conscious and strapped down onto the operating table while the sound of a drill filled your ears in piercing screeches before being overcome with the screams of your own as a sharp pain spread down your spine and through the back of your head.
“Y/n.” Matt’s voice called out to you in echoes muffled behind the shadows of your visions until the touch of his hands gently placing themselves at the sides of your face brought you back. Barely breaking out of your daze in an unstable snarl of fury, you knocked Matt down onto the ground, placing your body over him as your claws slipped out of your knuckles with their sharp points hovering right over where his head was.
“Y/n.” Matt breathed out, attempting to stay calm despite feeling the sharp metal just barely grazing against the skin on his forehead. Though he couldn’t see the expression on your face, nor the rage behind your eyes, something told him that he wouldn’t have been able to recognize you in this moment. “It’s me. It’s okay.”
You blinked back the tears that had formed in your eyes amidst the terrors of your visions, your brows knitted together at the situation unfurled while a choked whisper escaped your lips. “Matt?”
“Hey. It’s okay. It’s alright.”
“I-I.” You choked out as you unsheathed your claws before getting off him. “Matt, I-I’m so sorry.”
“Hey it’s okay. You’re safe.”
“I could’ve-I could’ve killed you. I could’ve-” You mumbled, staring at him with widened eyes filled with disbelief at the thought of how you were just seconds away from killing someone you cared about.
“It’s okay, I’m fine.” Matt scooted closer only for you to stop him.
“Don’t.”
“Y/n.”
“Stay back Matt.” You spoke in a firmer tone before running your hands through your hair. “Jesus fucking christ. I tried to kill you. Don’t you see that?”
“But you didn’t.”
“But I could have! What if I couldn’t have been stopped huh? What then?” You shook your head before getting up. “I need to go.”
“Were are you going?” Matt stood up with you.
“Home.”
“Y/n wait. Something’s been bothering you since I last saw you. What’s going on?”
“None of your concern Matt.” You clenched your jaw, avoiding his face as you gathered all your things. “I left your file on the desk.”
“Look, I’m just trying to make sure you’re safe.”
“Yeah well I don’t need you to keep me safe okay.” You snapped. “I can take bullets, you can’t. If anything you should be keeping yourself safe from me.”
“Y/n wait.” Matt called out for you, standing in the center of the room with concern written across his features. But you did not respond, nor did you turn back just once as you walked out of his apartment, your heart rate slowing down to it’s steady rhythm. Matt silently listened to the sound of your footsteps getting fainter and fainter the farther away you went, until the loud rumble of your car’s engine started up, echoing in the street followed the screeching of your tires as you drove off, farther and farther away until he could no longer hear whatever was left of you.
Matt Murdock x Mutant!Reader, Bucky x Mutant!Reader Part 5
A/N: Part 5 is here my lovelies! I hope you all enjoy! As always, feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated and let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list. Have a lovely day! ✨✨✨
Summary: Imagine being the daughter of Wolverine and an FBI agent. You used to be a part of Bucky’s past. A distant part of his past that he had forgotten over time, until one day, he sees your face shadowed behind the public eye, like an apparition, almost as if you didn’t exist. Confused over your existence and questioning whether what he saw was real, broken memories of you come flooding back to him, and Bucky finds himself scrambling to search for clues that would lead to who you are and why he feels as if he had seen you before. You on the other hand had moved on, starting a new life for yourself and even finding yourself working with a certain lawyer. After the horrors you faced, you wanted to leave your past behind you, eventually forgetting mostly everything that ever happened. That is until the former Winter Soldier brings those memories all back.
Warnings: language, angst, blood and violence. Trigger warning, this chapter involves descriptions of a crime scene: homicide and sexual assault against a minor, so please do not read this if you feel this may affect you. I will also input trigger warnings around the areas that this theme is mentioned.
You pulled up to the sight of the crime scene you were just called into after working on some files at the office during the morning, parking your car on the side of the road that led to a local hiking trail as the lights of the cop cars danced across your face in patterns of reds and blues. You remained in your seat for a moment, your knuckles turning white from gripping your wheel as you stared off into the distance, drowning out the sound of the police radios with deep and steady breaths as you tried to prepare yourself for what you might come across. You usually liked to keep yourself preoccupied, whether it was your work or other simple things like reading a book, it helped to distract you from whatever it was you needed to take your mind off of. But now that you didn’t have your head buried in files and reports, your thoughts began to drift off to what had happened earlier. Various speculations ran through your head as you tried to analyze the things Matt had said to you and why he had even done so in the first place. Perhaps you were overthinking it. Sure, Karen was an extremely attractive woman, and you found yourself feeling silly for even thinking of the idea as if Matt knew what she looked like. But it wasn’t so much that, it was the way she looked at him that made you doubt everything he told you. Maybe the things he said were just a ploy, one of his lawyer tactics to get you to get over the anger you had for him so that you would end up helping with his case. If there was one thing he was good at, it was his way with words. Matt almost always knew what to say and he could be persuasive at times. And if there was one thing you were good at, it was knowing whether he was being honest or just being full of bullshit. If only you could have deciphered which one if it weren’t for your emotions getting in the way.
Turning off your engine, you stepped out of your car, squinting your eyes against the glare of the sun and searching the faces of the officers nearby. After throwing on your sunglasses you spotted the familiar head of dark brown curls sticking out from behind a Buick. Upon spotting you, your partner Pedro who was leaning against his car, waved you over. “Gomez.” You walked over to him, giving him a short and polite smile.
“Afternoon y/l/n. You feeling better?”
“Yeah. So what have we got here?”
“They found a dead body about a mile off the trail.” Pedro told you before walking alongside you to the destination.
“Any witnesses?” You brought up, your eyes focused on the dirt and pieces of mud that started to coat the tops of your boots while keeping a lookout for anything that could be a piece of evidence as you trudged deeper into the thicket of trees.
“A park ranger. Said he heard something between the trees and went to check it out and that’s when he found the body.”
“And the suspect?”
“Fled the scene before anyone arrived.”
“Any identification of a vehicle?”
“As of yet, no.”
“What about the media? They haven’t heard about this yet have they?”
“No. I have a few officers stationed outside in specific areas to block off all possible access to the scene.
"Good. Not a word of this to the press. Not until we know what’s going on.”
“Got it.”
Some time had passed, though not much. The sun was still high in the sky, its rays shrouded by the dense leaves and branches of the trees that covered the grounds. The smell of pine, damp soil from the moisture left over by the morning fog, and the smell of sap leaking from the cracks of trunks filled the air as Pedro and you hiked off the trail and ventured deeper into the woods, following the two officers in front of you. When you began to approach the area of concern, there in the distance your ears picked up on the sound of people moving about, paired with the soft chatter of voices as they discussed important issues with each other that seemed to blend with the preferred quietness of some. You noticed how some of them were unsettled, their muscles stiff as they carried out their duties while the rest carried an air of composure and focus resulted by the years spent working in the field. The familiar dark blue uniforms of the police and the black windbreakers with the printed word “Forensics” in white block letters were seen moving about the area inside the yellow tape that went around the perimeter.
“Here we are.” Pedro commented as the two of you ducked under the tape while making sure to be extra cautious where you stepped. “Hey, before you go any further,” Pedro stopped you, his eyes searching the ground as he tried to find the right words to say. “this…..this one is different. It might…….upset you.”
***Trigger Warning Beginning***
You gave Pedro a puzzled look, searching the clouded look in the dark chestnut depths of his irises that were shadowed beneath his brows that were currently knitted together. Being mindful of his words, you turned your head in the direction on your left where the trees had formed a clearing, the sun shining some light onto the patch where most of the others were gathered. You had caught note of the faint smell while you were still a distance away, a smell that you could never get used to, the sharp and stinging smell of rot that burned the inside of your nose and made you want to hurl. You knew there would be a dead body before you even arrived at the scene. Having knowledge that a location had a dead body was one thing, seeing it was another. The thing when expecting corpses was that you never knew just what to expect.
Just a few feet away, towards the center, a few personnel of the forensics team were crouched near the ground with their cameras, their flashes going off in clicks and sparks of white as they snapped multiple shots involving different angles of the body that was there. It seemed as if time had slowed down as you moved closer to investigate, your feet were heavy, like someone had tied weights to them using iron chains that burned against the flesh on your ankles. You could feel the eyes of those around you, hear the heartbeats of the members of the crime scene unit as they took a quick look at your stone like face before stepping aside as you passed. You nearly gasped at the sight, feeling your heart stop in your chest and fall to your stomach as your eyes bore into the lifeless face of the girl that lied there, a child.
“My god.” You breathed out with a clenched jaw, the ends of your lips turned downwards as you struggled to get ahold of the image. The girl, of age 14 or 15, lied there unsettlingly amongst the patch of grass, her skin ghostly white and the curls of her blonde hair splayed out behind her. It looked almost as if she were sleeping, and the somewhat peaceful image that was displayed haunted you to the core because of the monstrosity that lurked behind it. She was placed on her back with her hands folded neatly above her stomach, holding a single lily between her thin fingers. She was dressed in this white georgette dress that stopped a bit above her knees, the white fabric hinting just the faintest shade of pink while flowers adorned her hair, an assortment of lilacs and daisies. One would think that after working in this field after a certain amount of time, you’d get used to seeing stuff like this. But no, it never got easier. If anything, you just didn’t vomit like you did the first time you saw one.
“There’s speculation this one might be tied to the other 3 girls that were found.” Pedro crossed his arms over his chest as he watched you get a closer look.
“The other three? You mean the other 3 girls that were found in rivers in Massachusetts and Rhode Island? I read the files.”
“What can you make of it?” Pedro asked as he pulled out a notepad and pen from his pocket, the tip of the pen hovering over the paper as he waited for your observations.
“The murder victim is female, age 14 or 15.” You stated, pulling up the fabric of your pants before crouching down to your knees while slipping on a clean pair of gloves, the dry texture of the latex sticking against your skin as you pulled it over your wrists. “This one is fresh, killed not too long ago unlike the others that were in the later stages of decomposition. I’d say the time of death was……7 hours and 16 minutes ago. There’s….some bruising on her wrists that look like rope marks, silk.”
“Silk?” Pedro quirked a brow. “How can you tell?”
“The imprint of fibers.” You pointed to her wrists.
“What else?”
“He had her locked up, tied her up to make sure she wouldn’t escape. But he didn’t starve her, no, she was well fed. It looks like the suspect put some makeup on her. Not a lot, just some blush on her cheeks and some lipstick. Her nails are clean. She was……..groomed well, there’s hardly any traces of dirt on her. She has………..” You gulped, your nails digging into your palms as you pressed the back of your knuckles against your mouth.
“What is it?”
“There’s uh, bruising………near her inner thighs and uh……….signs of sexual assault.” Your voice came out in a broken whisper. “…………Have the forensics found any traces of semen?”
“None.”
“He made sure to wash her up. Fucking bastard piece of shit.”
“Hey.” You felt Pedro’s hand on the back of your shoulder. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Can we please move further?”
“……….What do you call the cause of death?”
“There’s no severe signs of strangulation or physical trauma.” You sniffed over her body with twisted lips, using your senses to pick up on any certain smells that could be a clue before recoiling from the acidic scent that burned through your nostrils, making you cough as a result. “Nightshade poisoning from ingestion. Hang on………..she’s wearing perfume.”
“Perfume? Any idea what brand?”
“………..Eleganter Schwan 06.”
“Say what?”
“Wait…….there’s more.” You stopped him, closing your eyes and breathing in the air. “There’s……leftover traces of cologne…………Clive Christian’s Original Collection.”
“You think the suspect was wearing it?”
“Positive.”
“How did you know what brands they are?” Pedro looked intently in surprise at the side of your face, watching the way your eyes darted around as you started to put everything together.
“I was studying abroad in France the summer of my sophomore year in uni and the place I was staying at was right next to a perfume shop. I used to have this little routine where everyday after class I would stop by the shop and test out the little sample bottles, a new perfume each day until I found the one I liked.”
“Makes sense, so what’s your analysis?”
“The suspect is a male, early 40s. He’s careful, made sure to leave no witness or any pieces of evidence that could lead back to him. But this,” you pointed towards the girl. It’s like he wants to show off, like he wanted us to find her.”
“Why the hell would he want us to find her?”
“To show off. If he wanted to hide her he could’ve hid her or dumped her in the river like the rest but no. The bastard wanted to show off his twisted sense of sentiment, which explains the elaborateness. He’s also wealthy.”
“Wealthy? What makes you say that?”
“The perfume and the cologne. They’re priced at about half a thousand each. The dress is Armani which is close to a thousand dollars.”
“Jesus. Who the hell would spend so much on someone they’re about to kill?”
“Someone with a lot of money to spare.”
“What else can you make out?”
“Whoever did this……this man, sounds disgusting but I think he loved her.”
“People don’t exactly kill the ones they love.”
“Which is why he did all this, it’s……..his way of honoring her death.” You gestured to the flowers. “You see, he thought he loved her, most likely has a twisted idea of what love is. But no, this man was obsessed with her, obsessed with her innocence, which explains the color of her dress and the flowers, they represent innocence and purity. His obsession with her also explains why he fixed her up like this. See those faint markings on her throat?” You pointed to the barely noticeable purple markings that lined her throat. “He tried to strangle her, but didn’t have the heart to finish the job. He also could have stabbed her or shot her, but that would have ruined her….image, so he poisoned her. I have a feeling this was his first planned target. Probably saw her somewhere in public when she caught his eye, maybe walking home from school? But he didn’t want to get to her yet so he killed the other three to satisfy his impulses. He took care of her, in his own sick way. Made sure to use soft ropes that are somewhat gentle on the skin, fed her and dressed her, and adorned her with flowers as if she was some kind of taxidermy that needed to be prepped and displayed.”
***Trigger Warning Ends Here***
“That’s one hell of an analysis Special Agent y/l/n.” You heard someone behind you speak up.
“Sir.” You stood up, turning around to your boss, the special agent in charge of your unit, Jack Morgan. He was a tall, thin man of age 50 with scattered gray hairs that lined the ash blondes of his hair. A pair of clubmaster glasses sat on the hook of his nose, the bottom rims of the frame somehow disguising the dark circles that sat under his hollow eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
“No worries.” He waved you off with a polite smile sitting on his thin lips. “Any clue that might lead to identifying the suspect?“
"Not yet sir.” You shook your head. “I’m working on it. But I feel close.”
"Well. We better get this bastard in handcuffs fast before he does it again.” Jack nodded with his hands in his pockets before walking off to speak to one of the deputies. “Let me know if you find anything y/l/n.”
“Of course sir. I’ll let you know.”
“So what now?” Pedro turned towards you as the two of you walked away for a moment.
“I’ll look into the surrounding buildings near the school she went to including the ones around her home, see if there is a possibility he lives in one of them, or at least visits them and etc. I’ll also check into the local perfume retailers, see which ones carry the brands I mentioned and get a list of who had bought them. We also need to keep a lookout on any gardens in the area. He mostly likely has a garden set up specially for his poisonous plants.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see what I can find too.” Pedro nodded before noticing the distant look into your eyes. "You okay? I know this case mustn’t have been easy for you.”
“It’s just…..a lot to take in you know.” Your shoved your hands into your pockets as you kicked the dirt at your feet. Your voice had a slight tremble in it as a shiver ran through your body. You couldn’t tell if it was the cold breeze or the crime scene itself that wanted to make you curl into your blanket and hide. But, you were also beyond furious, disgusted, and even scared, scared of what this asshole of a man was capable of. You couldn’t even seem to get yourself to stay still. Your hands and legs were itching to throw on a pair of mma gloves and go to the nearest martial arts club and go full force on a punching bag, kicks and jabs and all, maybe even throw the damn thing though the wall. Better yet, you wanted to find the fucking bastard that did this, maybe even beat his face in a little, use him as your punching bag before locking him up. But more than anything you were furious with yourself, upset that you weren’t able to find out who this sick fuck was.
“You think you’re able to…..you know.” Pedro nodded towards the corpse of the girl. Him and your boss were the only other people, or non-mutants rather, that knew about your past and what you could do, after all, it was Charles who had recommended you to them. After you were pardoned, they needed to know just who was coming in to work for them.
“I don’t know.” You faltered. “I’ve done it before with living people, but this, this is different. I’m a telepath, not a necromancer.”
“She was killed recently.” He noted as he followed the doubtful look in your eye. “Maybe there’s a chance some remnants of her……energy or…soul is left.”
You stared into the face of the girl for some time, your lips pursed in thought at the paleness of her face that was probably once radiant and full of life, now cold and lifeless and never again given the chance to do the things that most children her age will be given the chance to experience. Everything was stolen from her. You couldn’t imagine what the parents must be going through, to hear that their little girl was lying dead somewhere due to the hands of some murderous bastard serial killer. “…………I can try. See if it works. I just………don’t know if I’m ready for what I might see.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t to.”
***Trigger Warning begins here***
“No. Whether I want to or not is not important. But this,” you pointed towards the girl. “This is important. I need to be up close though in order to see if I can pick up on something.” You walked back over to the girl’s body once the forensics team had left, crouching down on the ground where she lay while Pedro kept a lookout for you to make sure no one noticed. You breathed in a heavy sigh, taking a few reps of deep and heavy puffs of air to prepare yourself for whatever horrors you might face before closing your eyes and hovering your gloved hand over her head. Your mother had the gift of sight, just like you, and she too was able to read the thoughts of those around her. But the visions she received were different than yours, she was able to see ahead into the further, of events that have yet to come. You tried to hone in on the advice Charles had taught you. Being a telepath himself, he was able to help you with a few things in order to harness your power, like reaching out for something that had meaning, something that invoked a strong sense of emotion in you. So you followed his steps.
At first there was nothing, just the sounds that were present to the mortal ear; like the gentle breeze that whispered through the leaves of trees, the sound of footsteps against the patches of grass and dirt and mud, the chirping of birds perched in the branches of the trees around you, and the few uttering of voices discussing a mixture of the mundane and subjects related to the case. There was a certain stillness in the nature around you that one would have thought to be peaceful had they not seen the corpse that laid amongst the grass, and the feeling of it twisted your stomach in words you could not explain. It was too sunny for a day such as this.
With another deep breath, you started to zone out your surroundings, cutting out the voices and the sounds of nature until you could hear the sound of everyone’s heartbeats, and then finally their thoughts. In the beginning, it was chaos. You winced against the many voiceless words that belonged to the minds of those around you, each one thinking of something different than the other. Step by step, you cut them out, focusing instead on the mind of the lifeless body of the girl that laid in front of you. You struggled, straining to see anything, hear anything, but there was nothing, just emptiness. Yet you pushed on, desperate to find something. Your brows were knit together at the center of your forehead from your effort, the strain you were inflicting on yourself causing a vein to pop out at your temple.
And then there it was, faint, and hidden in the depths of something beyond the physical, like looking at a screen or a mirage far off in the distance. So you reached towards it, focused all your strength on that faraway image. And then it hit you like a bus. You were engulfed with screams, screams that belonged to the little girl that completely enveloped you and pierced your ears. It felt as if these invisible iron chains had wrapped around you, pulling you closer into the depths of her mind. And that is when the nature of your surroundings had vanished and you found yourself looking through her eyes. There was this room, but all you could see was the ceiling, a white tiled ceiling with designs molded into each panel and a chandelier hanging from the center. Your arms and legs were tied, constricting you of any moment on what felt like a bed beneath you. A dark shadow moved from the side of the room, and that’s when you saw him, a face of a man hovering over you, the angle of the light casting a shadow on his face that made him resemble a demon with a sickening smile that stretched from ear to ear.
***Trigger Warning ends here***
You awoke from the vision with a start, your heart pounding and your forehead beaded with sweat as you struggled to breath, choking on the air in your lungs. You felt a warm liquid run down from your nose, the taste of copper filling your lips as a sickening sensation suddenly overcame you.
“Y/n?” You heard Pedro’s voice, muffled against the ringing in your ears as if a loud explosion had damaged them. You struggled up to your feet, the world around you spinning as you swayed with each step. You heard his voice call out for you again, but all you could focus on was your vision becoming more blurry by the second with each step you took as you tried to exit the area. After pushing past the yellow tape, you held onto the tree next to you for support, the throbbing in your head getting more powerful by the second. With a cold ice-like sensation washing over you, you doubled over and vomited onto the dirt in front of you before collapsing to the ground, your vision becoming black as you lost all consciousness.
When you had awoken, you found Pedro crouched next to you, his eyes trained on your face as he pressed a cold washcloth against your forehead.
“Ugh….” You groaned, shifting your body to notice that Pedro had sat you up against the tree. “Did I pass out? And please tell me I didn’t fall on my puke.”
“You were unconscious for a good two minutes. And no, you didn’t fall on your puke. You okay?”
“I don’t know. I got dizzy all of a sudden.”
“……….You saw something didn’t you?” Pedro had stopped, lowering the washcloth down to his side as his eyes searched yours, both out of concern and out of curiosity.
You stared at him for a moment with a solemn expression, the pain you had experienced through the girl visible in your eyes. “……….She was in so much pain.” You choked out. You wanted to cry, to scream, anything to make all that you felt go away. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t so much as shed a tear or else you would risk being taken off the case for involving too much emotion.
“…………What about the suspect?”
You looked away for a moment, recounting the things you had seen. “I……I couldn’t see his face. The room was dark. She was in so much pain Pedro.” You lied. Lied about not having seen his face. You had seen every detail of that bastard’s face, and it was everything you needed. You knew what you had to do.
Pedro nodded his head in understanding before listening quietly at what you had told him about what the girl had been through, his jaw clenched in anger. He felt guilty for making you preform such a task, believing that he had endangered you in some way. “I shouldn’t have put you through that.”
“No Pedro, it’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. I agreed to do it. It was to help with the investigation, to help catch this sick bastard remember?”
“You should go home.” Pedro gave you a regretful smile. “Get some rest. You look like shit after that.”
“You’re telling me.” You gave him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before getting up with a grunt as he helped support you up.
“Need me to walk you back to your car?”
“Nah. I’m fine. Thank you though Pedro.” You went back to your car, giving Pedro a wave as you went while he watched you go with a look of worry written across his dark olive skin. Something was off about you, and he had a gut feeling that you had not told him the whole truth regarding the vision you had.
When you returned back to your parked car, you took out your keys and unlocked the door, opening it up to get into the driver’s seat until a small piece of paper caught your eye, falling down right beside your feet. You stared suspiciously down at the dark gray rectangular piece of cardstock that looked to be a business card, seeing no print or writing on the side that was currently facing up. “What in the?” You muttered out, taking a quick glance around before dropping down to pick it up. The card was thick and smooth, of a matte finish, and felt heavy in your hands as you brought it up to your face. Small ridges lined the surface as you ran your thumb across the texture. Something about this card seemed off, causing the world around you to feel cloudy as an unnatural feeling started to form in the pit of your stomach. With trembling hands, you turned the card around to see a five letter word hand written across in maroon ink. A name. Laura.
Summary: Dr. Austin helps the team understand how memories can be fabricated, and they decide what their next steps are in regards to Y/N. Pairing:Eventual Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count:3249 Warnings: Minor angst, medical stuff, a startling amount of exposition, discussions of sciencey magic stuff, Tony being Tony and trying to embarrass Steve and Bucky A/N:Thank you all for being so patient, I had this chapter like 75% done for a few weeks, but I needed something to break up the mountains of information. So when I got stuck, I used that to my advantage. You’ll see what I mean. lol You can also follow this story & others on my Ao3 as well. The series was beta’d by the lovely@idjitmonkey and I hope you enjoy!
Dr. Austin’s gaze slowly moved across the three men sitting in front of her, forcing her to lightly bite the inside of her cheek to avoid laughing at the varying expressions of dismay and confusion showing on their faces. Although the teacher part of her brain was screaming at her to explain, she waited patiently for them to process what she’d told them. Fortunately, and unsurprisingly, it was Tony who spoke first only a few minutes later.
“Not only do you have a psychic on speed dial that can read people’s minds, but you’re telling me Y/N’s memories are… fake? How is that even possible?”
“Is speed dial even a thing anymore?” Dr. Austin mumbled before shifting her eyes to Steve and Bucky who appeared to have finished processing and were now paying attention. “Charles Xavier is an extremely powerful mutant, and his psychic abilities allow him to locate and connect to the minds of every mutant in the world. It allows him to stop a problem before it even becomes one.”
“Really? So, what, he’s a mutant version of a Precog? Last time I checked, Minority Report didn’t end well for a lot of people.” Tony exhaled with a groan before running a hand down his face. “I’m… not a fan of mind control or mind reading.”
“I understand your, uhhh… less than amicable history with Wanda Maximoff may be causing your unease, but Charles is not motivated by anything malicious, nor does he assist the police with any kind of crime prevention involving humans; he only steps in when there’s mutants involved. The police stay out of his way because his abilities can help avoid preventable human casualties by a frightened mutant who has no idea what’s happening to their body.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “They all say that at first. It’s only a matter of time before they stick their nose where—”
Dr. Austin aggressively raised her hand and cut him off, much to Tony’s surprise, before she walked around to the other side of the conference room table to sit down. “It’s about safety, Mr. Stark, not snooping. A mutant’s abilities usually don’t manifest until they hit puberty, and most of these kids don’t have a support system to help them understand their gifts, or worse, they are feared and shunned by their own families. Charles uses his psychic connection to locate these kids and offer his assistance before something potentially catastrophic happens.”
Steve nodded and gave a half-shrug. “Preventative is always better than reactionary, but I’m not sure I agree with his methods.”
Dr. Austin blinked, before shaking her head with an incredulous snort of laughter. “Why not, Captain Rogers? The government uses non-intrusive methods like facial recognition and GPS tracking to locate people under the guise of preventing criminal activity all the time.”
Tony smirked and pointed to Steve. “She’s gotcha there, Cap.”
“The ethicality of casual mind reading aside,” Bucky murmured while rubbing his temples, “what do you mean her memories were fake? Are you sure it’s not just my memories that’ve gotten mixed with hers due to the link we had?”
“No. Charles was positive that the fading memories she’s retained from the ordeal are separate from the ones that were altered.” The doctor sighed a shaky breath, still distressed by what the professor told her. “Almost all of her memories from the time she was a child until she was in her late teens have been replaced or altered by another mutant or magic user. Based on the levels of residual power he found, some were barely changed at all while others had to be entirely new memories.”
Bucky slumped forward and pressed his forehead against the cool surface of the table. The pounding in his head felt similar to a distant yet unforgettable memory involving his first introduction to the chair Hydra used to scramble his brain. It was making him twitchy, unsettled… and even though he was barely showing any outward signs, he could practically feel the concern radiating off of Steve.
“Mutants… magic…” Bucky groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to control his breathing as a familiar hand landed on his metal shoulder to ground him. Bucky cursed his and Steve’s close friendship because of Steve’s annoying ability to see right through him hiding his anxiety. “My brain hurts.”
“Seconded. I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but can you dumb it down for the less magically-educated of us, Doc?” Tony asked, rubbing his neck to try and relieve a brewing tension headache of his own.
While it wasn’t a topic Dr. Austin would consider herself an expert in by any means, Charles had used layman’s terms to explain things to her in the past when she was still new to the world of mutants, so she was fairly confident she could explain. “Alright, think of reading someone’s mind as essentially watching a video. Memories, when formed in the brain based on our experiences, play back clearer than those that have been fabricated or altered by an external source. So, the things you experience first-hand are… ‘recorded’, I guess, by your eyes and then immediately stored in your brain with zero loss of quality. Following so far?”
The three men nodded, but their pinched facial expressions still showed their confusion as she continued.
“Charles explained that when memories are altered by a psychic, they take a stored memory, edit it to overlay false events in specific parts, and then put it back where they found it. According to him, ‘edited’ memories are extremely noticeable when reading someone’s mind, like the difference in quality between an original image and one that has been photocopied a hundred times. The fabricated memories appear blurry because magic is used to create these false events, not your own eyes through first-hand experience. Y/N likely had difficulty distinguishing specific details, like faces or locations, when her brain accessed them for recollection.”
“You’re saying someone essentially hacked her brain and doctored over a decade’s worth of memories?” Steve asked, trying to wrap his head around the horrific implications of altering someone’s life like that. When Dr. Austin nodded, he took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly out of his nose as he brought his hands up to rest on his hips. “Wow.”
“Not to pile on, but he also said that the original memories were completely obliterated by whatever process was used to rewrite or alter them, so unfortunately there’s nothing left for Charles to restore.” All three men blinked at her, and Dr. Austin frowned. “It was done on purpose; memory manipulation usually only involves altered segments of memory being laid over the actual memory in order to hide what actually happened, so those changes can be taken away and reversed at any time since the original memory is merely concealed by another.”
Dr. Austin was sure she could see steam coming from Tony’s head, so she tried to word it in a language he was familiar with. “Think of a memory as a computer file. When memory manipulation is done normally, there is only surface-level tampering of the memory file to conceal what is actually there, which allows for the integrity of the file itself to be maintained despite any changes that are made. In Y/N’s case, the original file was essentially deleted and the fabricated one was implanted in its place. It wasn’t edited and concealed, it was deleted and replaced.”
Tony immediately understood the analogy and he clenched his jaw as he nodded. “They didn’t want anyone to be able to restore or view her original memories. What were they trying to hide?”
“She probably did or saw something she wasn’t supposed to, but she was deemed too useful to kill,” Bucky stated factually, his voice chilling and void of emotion.
“The ‘why’ isn’t something we have the ability to figure out right now, but Charles did say that the ‘who’ might be easier to…” Dr. Austin trailed off, her eyes focused on Bucky and the tension coiled in his muscles as he rocked his head back and forth on the table, his forehead still pressed to the wood. “Are you okay, Sergeant Barnes?”
“M’fine,” he waved her off with a lethargic wiggle of his metal hand, “just had a lot of… unpleasant stuff float to the surface after what happened with Y/N.”
“Oh, I…” Dr. Austin’s eyes darted to Steve, who gave a minute shake of his head to silently tell her not to press. Reluctantly, she nodded and ignored the innate desire to help and heal that every doctor has. “Well, Charles did say that the level of complexity mixed with the sheer amount of memory replacement and manipulation done requires a much higher level of skill than a normal psychic.”
“Narrows down our pool of people, does it?” Tony asked, already poking at the hologram of a database search screen being projected from the Iron Man gauntlet still on his arm.
“Considerably, yes.” Dr. Austin attentively watched Tony’s fingers dance across the hologram as he swiped from screen to screen. “Charles wasn’t able to locate any unfamiliar mutants that have enough power to do this kind of memory manipulation, but there are ways people have hidden from him in the past to avoid detection. He’s going to reach out to some of his acquaintances, those mutants or magic users with psychic abilities, to see if anyone’s heard of a psychic for hire that could pull this off.”
“It seems like every time we answer a question, three more appear in its place,” Tony mused before he snorted, a smirk curling the side of his lip. “It’s like a Q&A version of that stupid Hydra saying.”
Steve turned to glare at a still grinning Tony, before shifting his attention to the doctor. “While we’re waiting for an update from Mr. Xavier—”
“Professor,” Dr. Austin corrected, smiling shyly.
“Right, so while we’re waiting for Professor Xavier to get back to us, we do have a question in front of us we can answer right now. What do we tell Y/N?” Steve leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms with a shrug. “I mean, she’s back to being herself again, which is great, but being told that the memories you have from ten plus years of your life are essentially fake on top of the mental strain caused by that psychic link? It doesn’t seem like a smart idea.”
“As the only person here who’s actually had their memories fucked with,” Bucky grumbled, his breath fogging up the glossy surface of the table as he spoke, “you should tell her as soon as possible. She’ll be upset, but we need her participation if we want to figure out what the hell is going on. Having it explained by someone who wants to help you remember will make it a lot easier to process than rediscovering your identity and the missing chunks of your life on your own.”
Steve frowned and shifted forward to perch on the edge of his chair. “Buck—”
“I know, punk,” Bucky interrupted, ceasing his friend’s impending guilt spiral as he turned his head to lock eyes with Steve. “I was the one who ran. I thought I was better off alone.”
Steve smiled sadly and reached out to grip Bucky’s flesh shoulder. “Not alone anymore, jerk.”
“Huh,” Tony remarked from his seat at the end of the conference room table, his eyes wide and locked on Steve and Bucky. “Wow, yeah, I definitely see it now.”
Steve raised an eyebrow and turned to face Tony, a move which Bucky mirrored. “See what?”
“The heart eyes you give each other,” Tony explained, his mouth quivering with the effort of holding back his smile and laughter. “The internet? They call you two ‘Stucky’, by the way.”
Bucky’s head shot up from the table, the quick movement making Tony flinch, but his knowing grin quickly vanished when the throbbing in his skull returned with a vengeance. Playing dumb, he cleared his throat and glanced over at Tony. “Stucky?”
“Like, stuck as in we’re somehow stuck to each other? Or do they mean stuck with each other?” Steve asked, feigning innocence as well.
Tony flashed a mischievous grin that Loki himself would be proud of. “Well, the two of you actually have quite the following online, and there are some very talented people who like to…”
Tony’s voice became a low hum in the background as Bucky tuned him out, and he traded a look with Steve which told him his friend did as well. Thanks to a full briefing about the more… fan-driven parts of the internet after Bucky’s rescue, recovery, and placement on the team were made public, both super soldiers were well aware of the moniker given to them by those who saw their relationship as romantic instead of platonic. Natasha fully enjoyed explaining every little thing about Stucky and showing them every aspect of fan-created content sounding it—some of which she’d even called her “go-to pics” of them together—until both men were as red as her hair.
After the initial shock wore off, they both agreed that it was amusing and flattering, not at all insulting, and despite Steve’s protests, it even led to Bucky buying some fanart that he proudly has hanging in his room at the compound. Sure, the art might be a painting of Steve laying on his back, completely naked, with a detached version of Bucky’s old silver Winter Soldier arm the only thing covering his junk, but the look on Steve’s face every time he walks into Bucky’s room and sees it makes him laugh every time.
“…lovers, you know?” Bucky sighed as he focused on Tony’s rambling again, giving Dr. Austin an apologetic smile that the exacerbated doctor shrugged off with an eye roll. “Reunited after being separated for seventy years, only to find out that your best friend is trying to kill you because he had his memory erased by the enemy?” Tony clicked his tongue and swiped his hand to close the dozens of fan art images Bucky hadn’t realized were displayed on the hologram. “That is a Grade A, USDA Approved, one-hundred percent Beefy,” Tony pointedly stared at both men’s arms, “example of the ‘reunited lovers’ trope.”
“Seems like you’ve done a lot of research into this, Tony,” Steve commented, his face completely stoic even though Bucky could hear the fluttering of amused excitement in his heartbeat. “Is… there something you want to tell us? I mean, you know, since we’re already on the topic of sharing things with other people.”
“Do I… what? No, I don’t… s-share? What would I share about anything?” Tony sputtered, leaning back in his chair as a dark crimson hue spread across his cheeks.
Bucky hid his smile behind his hair as he turned and stood from his chair to stalk forward and press himself firmly against Steve’s back. Steve stiffened at the contact at first, but two light taps of Bucky’s finger on the back of Steve’s neck was all the communication he needed to tell Steve to play along. Once Steve relaxed, Bucky wrapped his flesh arm around Steve’s chest and nuzzled his face into the man’s neck.
“F-FRIDAY,” Tony whispered as he slowly patted his shirt and pants, his jaw dropping in shock so far it appeared to be almost unhinged; a rare thing to see on the billionaire’s face. “I… photos, where… I need my phone. The internet… is someone documenting this?” Tony’s attention snapped to Dr. Austin. “Are there cameras in this room?”
The stern look Dr. Austin gave Tony in response was enough of an answer. Her stare was full of so much frustrated maternal disappointment, Tony’s eyes widened and he swallowed, waving his hand to vanish the hologram as he slunk down in his chair. The doctor’s eyes shifted to the two super soldiers with a look so hard it felt like it could have come straight from one of the toughest women either man had ever known: Sarah Rogers. Steve and Bucky felt thoroughly chastised and released each other to return to their seats like scolded children.
“After all of the battles you’ve fought side by side, I understand that you gentlemen have the camaraderie of soldiers and enjoy teasing each other,” she began, her voice terrifyingly even, “but there are more pressing matters at hand.”
Since Tony was still frozen in stunned silence at the complete one-eighty in Dr. Austin, Steve cleared his throat and gave her an embarrassed smile. “I apologize Dr. Austin, that was… inappropriate humor.”
Dr. Austin smirked. “It wasn’t inappropriate, Captain; believe me, I do enjoy watching Tony Stark squirm. But now is just… not the time.”
Bucky’s lip twitched and he hung his head, nodding. “Right, well, I still think we need to tell her as soon as possible. We all know how well hiding things from each other has gone in the past, so I’d rather have Y/N associate us with honesty over white lies, even if what we tell her might be shocking to hear.”
“While personally I am inclined to agree, I do know how to read blood work and brain scans despite my inexperience with psychiatry,” Dr. Austin commented. “She needs time to regain her strength, both physical and mental, before we broach the subject.”
Bucky’s jaw clenched, showing his obvious disapproval, but it was Steve that spoke before he could. “I agree.” Bucky’s head snapped up to glare at Steve, who raised his hands. “I don’t like it either, Buck, but think about it like this. She’s been stuck inside someone else’s life—someone else’s memories—for days. Telling her that the actual life she thought she had growing up was also fake while she’s still recovering from the psychic link… it could end up doing more harm than good.”
Bucky’s pained and pleading eyes flicked to Dr. Austin, and she smiled sympathetically. “I understand this is not what you want based on your own similar personal experiences, but I am very concerned that the additional stress could end up causing a psychotic break if she begins to question the validity of the world around her. The stress hormones in her blood are still extremely elevated, and we don’t know if there will be any side effects from the use of her abilities.”
Bucky blinked in disbelief. The thought of possibly causing a psychotic break hadn’t even crossed his mind. It took the serum almost six months to heal the neural pathways that Hydra tried to fry away in his brain, yet he was still plagued by gaps in both his long term and short term memory. But Y/N… she was only human and the mind was deceptively fragile when it came to trauma.
“Fine, but the second she’s able…” Bucky trailed off, his silent request hanging in the air.
Dr. Austin nodded. “We’ll tell her, I promise. I believe you are correct, though, Y/N just may be the key to figuring out what happened during her childhood.”
“Great! What do you guys have for snacks around here?”
Tony’s random sudden interjection made Dr. Austin startle slightly, but Steve and Bucky only rolled their eyes as they followed Tony’s lead and got up from the conference room table to find some food.
None of them felt the golden gaze of Asgard’s guardian on them as he silently watched the developing situation.
Summary: Just about the only thing you and your surprise blind date had in common was that you didn’t want to be here. Still, neither of you got this far in life by quitting, even if that means enduring run-ins with your shitty ex-boyfriend, a revenge plot orchestrated by the Russian mafia, and maybe, just maybe, getting a second date by the end of night.
Warnings: language, canon level violence, pass-agg exes, sex references.
Notes: Just a three part series about a terrible, no good, awful, very bad date and also falling in love i guess :P please comment or reblog if you enjoy, I super appreciate it!!!
Never before in your life have you wished so genuinely that you had some kind of laser powers, that with just a dark glare and a thought you could reduce someone to a smoking pile of ashes.
From the looks of it, the man standing beside you seemed to be thinking the same thing.
Your friend, Mel, ignored the scowl you were sending her, and leaned further into her date Sam’s side.
“Look, it was the only way we could get both of you to agree!” she says with a shrug.
“Dinners already paid for, so you two just… have a good time, alright?” Sam seems to say mostly to the man next to you.
“Wait, you aren’t even staying?” you finally find your voice, incredulous as it is. Mel winces, somewhat apologetic for the first time, but rubs her hand over Sam’s shirt.
“We have tickets to a show…”
Sam checks his watch then and frowns.
“Which we’re going to miss if we don’t get going,” he says, beginning to gently usher Mel from behind the table. You open your mouth to protest, but you honestly don’t even know where to start.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” she places a hand on your arm as she moves past.
“Just have a little fun for once,”
And just like that, Sam and Mel are gone, leaving you and your supposed ‘date’ standing awkwardly in the middle of the busy restaurant. Tonight was supposed to be a much-needed girls night, and honestly, you’d been looking forward to it all week. You’d gotten properly dressed up for it too, in your sleek black mini dress and prized pair of dancing Louboutins, it wasn’t exactly an outfit you’d have worn on any kind of first date, blind or otherwise.
You think you hear the man next to you cuss under his breath, but it isn’t until a waiter excuses his way past you that you come back to your senses.
A/N: Hey thank you for requesting it means a lot. Especially now that my schedule is way more lax than it was before. Also I previously posted this before I knew I was shadowbanned but now that issue has been resolved so I am re posting somethings that I posted before I knew I was shadowbanned.
Steve felt sick, he remembers getting sick when he was younger, however this was worse. He felt his stomach twist, his chest tighten, and his entire body felt as heavy as lead.
Laughter filled the reception room as Steve contemplated leaving with an early morning mission as an excuse when suddenly the room went quiet.
“May I present for the first time,” The announcer said, “Mr and Mrs. Barnes.”
Steve could feel his heart drop to his stomach as he saw you and Bucky enter the room. Bucky had the biggest grin on his face as his hand held yours. You looked radiant, the dress you chose flattered you and accentuated the loveliness that was your figure. Your hair had been pinned and adorned with flowers and Steve couldn’t help but think that you looked ethereal, your smile lit up your entire face that gave you a certain glow. However there was a pang of jealousy as he saw how your eyes looked at Bucky like he was the only one in the room, he couldn’t stop the thought of it should be him instead of Bucky.
Steve felt sick, and he knew why.
He watched as your first dance began, the way Bucky was holding you gently to him as you swayed on the dance floor. The way Bucky whispered in your ear as you danced, the way Steve saw you breath him in, looking more in love than he ever saw you.
You were Steve’s once, once Steve held you like that, once Steve warmed your bed and held you at night, once it was Steve that put that starry look in your eye.
But that was a long time ago.
Steve tried to smile and act like his heart wasn’t beating painfully, like he didn’t want to grab you and tell you that while you weren’t his, he was still yours.
Steve downed his drink in one go before continuing to watch you happily sway with your husband, his best friend.
He couldn’t fault Bucky for falling for you, nor could he fault him for marrying you. Bucky deserved to be happy and right now Steve could see he’s the happiest he’s been since the forties when he was with you.
That doesn’t stop the jealous thoughts entering his head, about how Steve should’ve been the one at the altar with you. Steve should’ve been the one who wakes you up every morning and kisses you to sleep at night. Steve should’ve been the one you spent the rest of your life with.
Not Bucky.
But Bucky is the one you’ll do all that with and more.
Not Steve.
As he watches the dance end Steve begins to wonder where it all went wrong between you and him.
Then he remembered.
Peggy Carter.
Steve never should’ve gone back to her, he didn’t even get past knocking on her door before he realized what an idiot he was and made his way back home to you.
When he came back he realized he was too late.
It was four years later and you were engaged to Bucky, you had moved on.
That was a year ago and he wishes he can take it all back, wishes he can be the one for you like you were the one for him.
But he can’t.
So all he can do now is drink, and pretend like he was alright.
The reception went smoothly, people ate, danced, and drank to their heart’s content. There was nothing but laughter and love in the air. Steve downed one glass of whiskey after another for a buzz that never came.
The toasts came and went and when Steve’s turn came to give a toast it felt like he was swallowing nails. Each word hurt, even more so when you smiled at him that bittersweet smile he knew so well now.
Steve retreated back to the bar where he ordered another whiskey, wanting the burn of the liquid to distract him from the pain in his heart. He knew this day was going to hurt, he just didn’t imagine it would hurt this much.
When the party was at its height Steve saw his opportunity to slip away unnoticed. However, things never went to plan.
Steve had just gotten through the front doors of the reception hall before he heard footsteps approaching him.
“Where do you think you’re going punk?” Bucky asked as he made his way to the blonde supersoldier.
“Got an early mission tomorrow so I think I’m gonna call it a night, I didn’t want to be a buzzkill and all so I thought I could sneak out without anyone noticing.” Steve explained, Bucky grabbed the tall man’s shoulder.
“Hey you’re not a buzzkill and you’re our friend of course we would notice if you left before the big announcement.”
“Big announcement?”
“Yeah,” Bucky said grinning from ear to ear, “I’m actually glad we’re alone right now because I wanted to tell you one on one.”
“Tell me what?”
“(Y/n)’s pregnant,” Bucky said excitedly, “we’re going to be parents.”
Steve swore he felt the earth stop spinning and time slow down. Steve couldn’t feel anything, the shock still running its course.
“I’m happy for you Buck,” Steve said with a smile.
“I’m happy too Steve,” Bucky said, “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. If I knew then what I know now, all the pain and torture would lead to this right here. I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
Steve congratulated Bucky one last time before Bucky headed back to you.
He was still in shock by the time the crisp night air nipped at him, it didn’t hit him until he passed by the window and he could see the reception from inside. He could see you curled up next to Bucky, your hand unconsciously over your stomach while you drank sparkling water.
Suddenly it felt all too real, he could feel every emotion he had buried since coming back. Everything became too much as he sunk to the ground beside the window, his breathing became erratic as he felt the tears slip past his eyes. He could hardly breathe through the pain.
Steve had been sick plenty of times.
Steve had been injured plenty of times.
Stabbed, shot, injected, and lost so many people he had loved.
But nothing compared to this.
Because Steve had no one to blame but himself.
Steve loved you so much, so much and he tossed it all away.
And there was nothing he could ever do to take it all back.
Pairing: Prince!Bucky x Princess!Reader (Royal AU)
Summary: Obedience, duty, pristine smiles—raised as the princess of an oppressive kingdom, you knew nothing else. Your father signed your life away at the ripe age of five, black ink bleeding into a contract between nations, fate cemented with the flick of a quill. So when the time came to fulfill the promises you were too young to make, you expected much of the same in the land of Brookshire. But Prince James had other plans, as did the enemies looming outside the castle walls.
Word count:5k
Warnings: Some rising tensions, corset drama, and a little more fluff <3
a/n: I love love feedback, so let me know what you think!! There’s some angst on the horizon
“Darling, have you seen the view from the east window?” Bucky called, his voice distant from the other end of the dining table.
“Prince James, this is the third morning in a row you’ve asked me that.”
“Well, this is the third morning in a row that you’ve sat so far away.”
You glanced up from your breakfast with a small smile, your brow arched. “It is customary for us to sit here,” you explained, motioning toward the chairs opposite to each other. “That’s why your staff set the table this way.”
“Customary for who?”
“Royals, Prince James.”
Bucky scoffed, his chair scraping the floor as he got up, his plate clinking against his fork as he gripped it between rushed fingers. It took about four, long steps before he reached the seat to your left, and then he pulled it out with just as much dramatism.
“Perhaps, as a pair, we do away with royal customs that have me sitting a mile away from my wife,” he concluded, plopping down on cushion and wood with a grace he certainly hadn’t learned from a court tutor. “Besides, I’m thinking that whoever created that rule must not have been married to you.”
Your face burned as it usually did when he made comments like that. Bucky seemed to love making your relationship feel like a casual affair, as if your union hadn’t been set in stone for years, the pairing a political tactic your father used to send you away. He seemed to love making you feel like he was falling for you by choice.
“We are not even married,” you reminded him. “No matter how many times you call me your wife.”
Wife—a word he used with frequency, as of late.
He hummed. “Not yet, my princess.”
His foot slid to meet yours under the table; a small brush, but a purposeful one. You lost your breath for a moment as Bucky continued to eat his breakfast, feigning indifference with a bite of bread just as his ankle brushed yours. And then his eyes turned up to yours with a knowing glint. But before you could say anything back, the dining room doors opened with an echoing boom.
“I apologize, Your Highnesses,” an unsure voice sounded. “But… well Prince James, the queen is going over a few last minute preparations for tomorrow, and she said that you insisted on being the one to confirm the guest list.”
Bucky’s eyes refused to leave yours as he replied, “Thank you, Peter. You can tell my mother that I—”
“She told me not to come back unless you were with me,” Peter interrupted, a small, apologetic smile etched onto his face.
You bit back a laugh at the vexation blooming along Bucky’s brow, his jaw ticking as he finally tore his eyes from you. He went back and forth with Peter for a while, trying to demand more time with you since he was the one that decided whether or not Peter got knighted. But the witty squire took those empty threats in stride, further insisting that the queen was still the one he reported to.
Well, until the coronation anyway. And the wedding.
“Fine,” Bucky finally huffed, discontentedly. “If my mother truly needs me at this very moment, I suppose I will miss out on my fleeting, invaluable time with the princess here.”
You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. “I will see you tomorrow night, Prince James.”
“Yes, but there will be so many people there. And they will all want to dance with you. I hardly think I will get a moment of your time before you are whisked away in the arms of some old commander or nobleman.”
If you were being honest, the night was going to go exactly as Bucky described it. It was a ball to welcome the new princess to court; a way to introduce you to the neighboring lands and get the government of Brookshire acquainted with their soon to be queen. You would have to laugh at bad jokes and dance with old men and wear those heels that Bucky insisted you shove into the far corner of your closet.
You would have very little time with the prince, and while that saddened you, it also afforded you a sliver of unkind reality.
This night was what your entire life had been—your life before Bucky. So it would be easy to fall back into the routine, to smile when you didn’t want to and dance with those you didn’t know. You’d dance the waltzes ingrained in your muscle memory and slink back into dark corners when the men started discussing the country’s politics. And it would be okay. Because back in Hyland, you’d end these nights alone in your quarters, feeling empty and used.
But tomorrow night, you had a feeling you wouldn’t have to feel that way. That maybe, if you asked, Bucky would be there, ready and willing to make you feel whole again.
“Perhaps you would be better off finding a moment of my time after the ball then?”
Bucky’s smile was vibrant, his hands reaching out to brush your hair from your eyes as he stood from the table. He kept your cheeks between his hands for a moment longer, admiring you with your spoon still held out in front of you, an unexpecting expression on your face.
“I will,” he affirmed, leaning down to press a kiss on your hairline. You almost dropped your spoon. “I’ll see you tomorrow, darling.”
Yes—you were positive that while the ball would be draining, Bucky… Bucky would be everything you needed to fix that. Everything you needed all along.
~~
The corset pulled tighter around your ribs, Natasha wincing with each tug as she kneeled before you, lacing the shoes you surely couldn’t reach anymore. The royal dresser let out a huff from behind you before wiping her brow and tying off the ribbon. She bowed, handed Natasha the rest of your formal wear, and then left with a smile.
“She was nice,” Natasha hummed, helping you into the rest of your dress.
“I don’t think I have ever had a dresser apologize so many times,” you remarked, trying to relieve some tension on your waist. “I think she thought I was going to pass out.”
“Well, it has been some time since you last wore a corset.”
“I cannot believe I used to wear these every day,” you exasperated.
Natasha grumbled at that, replying snarkily, “You used to be forced to wear them every day.”
She laced together the final pieces of your dress, the tool and silk falling in beautiful waves along the floor. You adjusted your posture once more, trying to find a comfortable position to breathe. You were sure you looked like the perfect picture of the monarchy, but you truly were out of practice when it came to royal dress; Bucky and the ladies of this court were quite adamant that day dresses and comfortable footwear were more than acceptable for your daily life.
It was nothing like back at home, with metal binding constantly strapped to your back and your toes constantly pinched together in tiny shoes.
You comforted your friend with a hand on her shoulder and an understanding look. You knew how much she hated your treatment back in Hyland. But she knew that if she ever said anything, the small privileges she was afforded would’ve been taken from her in a single blink. And her position would’ve dropped as well, sending her far, far away from you.
“It’s okay, Natasha. It’s different here.” You took careful steps to the door, reaching for the brass handles, knowing the guards were waiting for you on the other side. “I think it will stay that way.”
The walk to the ballroom was glistening—the floors, the walls, the lights. You were in the south wing of the castle, where the balls were held and the guests resided, and—apparently—where all of the marble in the kingdom was held. You found yourself missing the charming cobblestone and tile that made up the wing you stayed in. You missed the wide open windows and the linen curtains that rustled each morning. The ocean that woke you up with a different kind of gleam… the kind that lit up the oil paintings on your walls and slid along your skin in delicate patterns.
When Steve gave you a tour upon your arrival, you hadn’t noticed the contrast as much; the castle was so large and you were taken into so many rooms. But it was jarring now—the stiffness of the guest wing. You wondered why your wing was so different, since Bucky obviously stayed there as well. You wondered who the designers had in mind when they put together the comfort that you loved so much.
“Are you ready?” Natasha whispered by your ear. You hadn’t even noticed the grand doors in front of you, their intricate wooden patterns waiting to be pushed open. You could hear the music on the other side, the sounds of expensive shoes against polished marble.
“Of course,” you replied, but your voice wasn’t as strong as you remembered it to be just moments before.
The doors were opened anyway.
Immediate silence. Violins stopped, the people parted; you stood just beyond the doors, head held high in a feigned confidence—a product of years and years of practice. The announcer called out your name and title in a voice you were so used to, and your next job was simply to smile and walk in. To make your way to the seat at the head of the room, and sit until you were asked to dance by one of the expensive shoes.
But then Bucky was there, stepping in your path with his hand held out in offerance. Bucky was there and he was smiling at you with those boyish eyes, still so youthful even when paired with his royal military uniform.
You took a glance back at Natasha, questioning your next move; she had never led you astray. With a small smile, she nodded her head, and you turned to take the hand you never quite let yourself believe would be there when you were growing up.
The music began the second Bucky took your waist. It was the Merry Widow Waltz, a dance you’d learned just after you were able to walk. An admittedly glance dance, one to welcome you to the festivities, surely, and you were glad when other couples joined the floor soon after—less attention on you, were you to mess up the steps.
Bucky guided you along the floor with practiced ease, tugging you closer to his chest around others, smiling down at you when you risked a glance up at him.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered by your ear, when the dance took you farther away from the center of the floor. “You always do.”
For the first time at any ball, you let a laugh free, “I wasn’t expecting a dance so soon, Prince James. I only just entered the room.”
He released you, using one hand to twirl you away, but quickly capturing your waist back in his grip. This was supposed to be a fast-paced waltz, with the couple leaving distance between each other for quick moves. But Bucky kept the two of you about one step behind the rest of the room, his desire to keep you close slowing you down. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care as his nose brushed yours.
“I told you, princess. You are the star of the evening. I must take all the time I can get.”
The dance ended long before you wanted it to, Bucky parting from you with a bow and wink that left you feeling privy to some information you had never even shared. Maybe that’s just how it felt to be falling in love—like you had some secret that no one else could ever understand.
You ruminated on the thought as the evening progressed. When you were spun around the room and asked about your homeland, all you could think about were the eyes tracking you from the far side of the ball, how they looked at you in a way that no one else did. When your gloved hand was kissed by noblemen and governors, you were reminded of the way Bucky kissed your hand, and your head and your fingers… how each touch of his lips sent you falling down a well of uncharted feelings.
You thought about kissing him back.
You were only pulled from your clouded daze when it was time to actually meet the other royals in the room—the whole purpose of the evening. Steve stood beside you on the steps leading up to the thrones, his shined and polished shoes just a tad bit untied.
“This is King T’Challa. He rules over Wakanda. Brookshire does a lot of trade with his kingdom.”
“It is lovely to meet you,” you greeted, shoulder slightly pressing against Steve’s chest in familiarity. “I am so excited to become more acquainted with you and your people.”
The king gave you a firm handshake and a smile, but didn’t stick around for small talk. He was one of the easier royals to meet—kind but to the point. The rest of the gentlemen were more chatty, some of the women were more stiff. A few younger royals came up to speak about future prospects and Steve had to shoo them away with a small laugh. Natasha joined you on the steps after the fourth group that came to bow and meet you, and you relaxed more then.
“Almost done,” Steve promised, a strong hand placed on your arm. “I believe there is only one more guest we have yet to meet. She arrived a little late but I saw her and her—ah, Sharon!”
You looked up from your shoes, eyes falling on the blonde in purple silk making her way to the front of the room. You recognized her; she danced with Bucky three songs after you arrived. Not that you were keeping track. A lot of people were dancing with Bucky tonight.
She reached you and offered a small smile, one you reciprocated with ease and a bow. “It is nice to finally meet you, Princess y/n,” she said, her head dipping.
“Finally?” you questioned. Queen Sharon was the ruler of Madripoor, a place you only learned about after arriving in Brookshire. You definitely hadn’t had any correspondence before this.
“Yes, I feel as if I already know you!” she laughed. “Bucky speaks of you so freely. I swear you were on his mind before he even got the chance to ask poor Steve what you looked like.”
You blinked, the use of Bucky’s name surprising you. Well—the use of his name along with Steve’s, and of the familiarity this queen seemed to have with your fiancé. But Bucky had an entire life before you came along, and you needed to remember that. It was just jarring since the past weeks had been secluded to the two of you. This was the first time you had come into contact with the outside world since you arrived in Brookshire, and a small kind of bubble was bursting.
“Oh, of course,” you conceded, with a laugh you had practiced many times. “I suppose there is much to talk about when you’ve been engaged for so many years.”
“Yes, many years.”
Her tone confused you, its slight bite unwarranted and out of place. You pretended it didn’t with another fake laugh. You couldn’t quite mask the tightness in your throat, however, the night verging on overwhelming, especially with this queen’s terseness. You took half a step back to reach the comfort of your friends.
“Well, it was so nice to formally meet you. I’m sure we will be seeing each other often with how close you are to this court.” Almost through gritted teeth. Almost. Natasha’s subtle hand on your wrist kept you polite.
Sharon’s exit was as graceful as her entrance, this time with Steve following behind her with an invitation to dance. You were fairly certain he only did that for you, Natasha’s quick glance over at your cousin conveying all that it needed to.
You turned to your lady in waiting the second Sharon was out of ear shot. “I know I’m not too versed in this kind of thing, but was she…? She didn’t like me, did she?”
Natasha gave you a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure there are many here tonight that are—wanting for your situation. It can make them bitter.”
“Wanting for my situation?” you questioned, baffled. “And what situation is that?”
“Y/n, your fiancé would be the most eligible bachelor in the continent if not for you. You must know that. A crown, a kingdom, a face like that—he has it all, and you took it before they even had a chance.”
You reared back at her insinuation. “It’s not as if I had a choice. You know that better than anyone here.”
“I know, I know,” she placated. “But it does not help when all of the women in the room keep trying to catch his attention and he won’t stop staring at you like that.”
You snapped your gaze in the direction of her hand, spotting Bucky in the center of the ballroom, a champagne flute between his fingers and a dazed look on his face as he seemingly ignored the nobleman talking his ear off. He was ignoring him in favor of watching you, and he didn’t show any signs of getting bored.
Your eyes turning to him was all the confirmation he needed to end his mundane conversation, his drink suddenly pushed into the hands of an unexpecting man. He weaved through the crowd with small apologies and light smiles until he found the base of the stairs, and you did as well, your feet guiding you down to him subconsciously.
“Princess,” he greeted, breathless. “Am I correct in assuming that this next moment of time belongs to me?”
Your smile was contagious, any ill feelings left by the thrones, far away from Bucky. “Completely.”
And even though your feet hurt terribly and your chest struggled to capture a full breath, you felt lightheaded as he whisked you to the floor, carefree. He gathered you in his arms and you were transported to the horses and the flowers and the rays of canary-colored sun that usually came with his citrusy scent, the hints of early morning tea and comfort all wrapped up in the man holding you so closely.
But then the music started, and you were very abruptly thrown out of the dreamy solace you loved so much.
“I do not know this dance,” you panicked. “Prince James, this waltz—what is it?”
Bucky shook his head with fond eyes, his thumb brushing down your temple. “There is no waltz for this dance, my princess.”
You gaped. “I will embarrass you. I’ve never danced without a waltz before. I’ll look like a fool, Prince James, I cannot—”
“I requested this song for you.” Bucky kept his voice low, and you struggled to maintain a calm state with others dancing around you, apparently so sure of the next steps to take. “They play it at every ball, but there isn’t one dance for it.” He let both of his hands trail down to your waist—certainly not a proper position. “Let me show you.”
Your heart beating out of your chest, your palms damp from panic, you nodded your head because as much as you hated to admit it, you’d let Bucky show you just about anything.
And so he showed you.
His hands never left your waist, even when the rest of the room parted to spin and take up hands with others. He consistently held you to him, and his laugh echoing against your chest was the sweetest sound, surpassing any melodic flutes or violins in the space.
You had no idea what pattern your feet were making, nor how many times you had spun around in the same spot on the floor, but Bucky didn’t seem to care. His fingers ran up the boning of your corset and brushed the small bit of exposed skin above your shoulders; they trailed there until he pressed his palm to your neck as well, ushering your head to his chest.
The music kept its upbeat tune, but you did not, because Bucky held you there instead. The reverberation of heels and leather pounded into the soles of your shoes, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to move—couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed when the consistent thud of Bucky’s sweet heart was there against your cheek and wholly, completely yours.
You pulled away slightly, head light from the champagne or your fiancé’s touch, you couldn’t tell. “Bucky,” you whispered, a secret in the air between you, one he would surely keep. “Shall we leave?”
And although it was long before the others would turn in, some guests even staying the night due to how long they would dance, Bucky couldn’t help but give you anything you ever wanted.
“Of course, my darling.”
He would think about the way his name sounded on your lips every night for the next week, but for now, he held your waist as you giggled and pretended to sneak around confused party guests. He fell in love with you just a little more, watching your dress slide against unused marble, knowing that the girl he chased through the halls was just that—a girl. Not a royal or a pawn to be moved around.
But you were his girl, and that made all the difference.
~~
“They are sleeping, princess.”
“You told me there were ducks here.”
“I am very sorry to disappoint,” Bucky laughed, feigning sincerity with a hand over his chest.
You hummed. “You don’t seem very sorry.” You stepped back from the pond, taking a seat on the bench under the aging willow. “In fact, you appear to be very amused by my sorrow.”
Bucky scoffed, rounding his side of the tree to come and join you. He was mused from the night, his hair disheveled and his collar askew; he looked kissed by joy and roused by the dim shine of the moon, and you were having trouble conjuring any other picture of beauty.
“I can assure you,” he spoke out to the pond, his thigh pressing to yours. “Your sorrow could never amuse me. Shall I find a groundskeeper to wake the ducks? Would that appease you, my princess?”
“Of course not. Then the ducks would resent me.”
He turned to you, adoration shining with the stars in his eyes. “We wouldn’t want that.”
With the crickets blaring amongst the high brush by the spring pond, the water rippling with small life, you leaned your shoulder into his. Bucky responded with a brush of his fingers against yours on the surface of the bench, capturing them after only a moment’s hesitation. When he pressed your palms together, words were falling from your mouth before you could stop them.
“I would paint this,” you admitted, only a little embarrassed. “I used to paint. In secret.”
Bucky’s thumb brushed the back of your hand before he responded, “I know. Steve would tell me of your works—how beautiful they were. I don’t know if you got my letters—”
“I got them,” you interrupted. “I just… I didn’t think they were coming from you. I thought they were a ploy from your court. Some obligatory correspondence.”
“They were from me. All of them.”
You knew this. After all of your time with Bucky, you knew that those words were his and his alone; that his sentiments were sincere and that he was a kind prince that would turn into an even more benevolent king.
Minus the ducks of course.
“You could still paint here. If you’d like to, of course,” Bucky whispered. It was almost lost in the rustling willow leaves.
You took in a large breath, gearing up for a long protest about why that was unnecessary—your hobbies were not something that should take up the time of others—when a sharp pain sprouted just below your ribs. The corset, of course; sitting too long with your chest confined in such a way was never good for heavy breathing. You attempted to ground yourself with a steady hand to your stomach, but Bucky was more observant than that.
“Are you alright?” he stressed, standing and bringing you along with him. “Did the tasters miss something? Have you been poisoned?”
Your laugh was stifled by the steel boning along your waist. “No, Bucky, I am fine. It’s nothing to concern yourself with.”
“Thank you for the dismissal but everything to do with you is my concern.”
You focused on the soft pressure of Bucky’s hands on your hips as you steadied your breathing; you had a lot of practice with this kind of feeling, and after a few moments it would pass. But with Bucky tilting his head to catch your eyes, the worry set deep in his brow, you were having a hard time with the otherwise simple task. When he brushed his touch up to your chin, angling your gaze to his, you were no longer sure if the corset was the problem.
“What is it?” he asked, so gently you almost fell into the words
“My corset. I’m just not accustomed to the restriction anymore. It will pass, Bucky, just give me a moment.”
“It’s so tight that it’s hurting you?”
“That is typically the purpose of a corset,” you jested, a grim smile passing over your face.
Bucky shot forward, quick hands coming around you to find the hooks of your gown. “You must take it off.”
It took you a moment to register his words, but as his nimble fingers found the top clasp of your dress, you knocked his arms away at the absurdity.
“I cannot!“ you exclaimed. “If someone were to see me undressing out here with you, there would be an unstoppable onslaught of rumors.”
Bucky huffed, now a slight tightness in his jaw, more concern shining through. “Rumors about what, darling? A couple, engaged to be married, having a secret rendezvous by the pond? I’m sure there is more interesting court gossip than that.”
“We are not yet married.”
“And I am simply trying to ensure that my fiancée doesn’t suffocate,” Bucky rushed, attempting once again to free you from the uncomfortable garment. He got a clasp free this time.
You slid back, unraveling yourself from his arms. “Prince James!” you scolded.
“Back to that? I’ve become so fond of hearing you say my name.”
“Fine,Bucky,” you tried. “Either way, you cannot take my corset off. It is… extremely improper. The dressers have to do that, and they typically prefer to do it inside.”
With all of your frustrated huffs and helpless quips, you found yourself struggling more and more to capture a full breath. Your chest rose and fell at an alarming rate, your hands coming up to set comfort into your stomach, but finding little solace there. You were panicked at the prospect of someone finding you out here, half dressed, but the alternative—keeping the corset on—was becoming impossible.
What surprised you, however, was your lack of discomfort at the idea of Bucky pulling the laces from your back. You hadn’t even given that aspect of it all a second thought when he reached for you, instead focusing on the humiliation of discovery. You didn’t have time to unpack those feelings; Bucky was talking again, low and comforting.
“You trust me, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.” An answer without hesitation—without thinking.
He smiled, softly. “Then turn around.”
Your gaze flickered between his eyes a few more times, your skin resisting the soft breeze on your cheeks. Bucky’s lips parted before he reached for you, and the sword he had strapped to his hip on the way out the door clinked against the metal of his belt. It took one final, nervous wring of your hands and you were facing the willow again, blind to Bucky’s actions.
His fingers touched you first—tentative against your neck, sweeping the ties from your necklace away from the laces of your corset. They lingered there, and you could feel the gentle puff of his breath prickle your skin. He trailed down the indent of your spine until he met the base of the ribbon.
The first pull left a sound resonating past the pond, silk brushing against silk, cotton releasing from its bind. Bucky’s left hand came up to steady your waist in an unnecessary touch. It warmed you through your dress, consumed you like a fire that bloomed up past your neck and spread through your mind.
And then he pulled again and again and again, each tug loosening your chest and constricting it for a completely different reason. You held the corset against you when it fully released, and Bucky let his hands slide up your arms as you stood there, lashes fluttering for someone that couldn’t see it.
“Is that better?”
“Yes,” you breathed out, unable to turn around. “Much better, thank you.”
Lips behind your ear, stealing all of the air from your body with their gentle pressure. “We must get you back in your room before others see you in such a state of undress.” His hands squeezed your arms. “I think my quarters are closer.”
Your face burned, turning on the heel of your shoe with gusto. “I think you are pushing it.”
Bucky reached up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, playful eyes never straying lower than your lips. “I was only joking, my darling,” he hummed, cupping your cheek in his hand. You leaned into it instantly. “I’d wait forever for you. You know that, don’t you?”
And a part of you, the part that was growing and becoming so used to Bucky’s sweet disposition, did know.
The equipment Bucky ordered comes in a shiny metal box that reminds him of the time the Wakandans offered him a new arm, a new war. But this time, Bucky isn’t fighting a war. He’s not even fighting. He’s observing. He’s setting up the binoculars near the window. He’s fine-tuning the microphones to an earpiece and a recording device. He’s making sure the motion sensors properly record movement and register in his computer.
It’s oddly reminiscent of some jobs he used to do for HYDRA. Although he wishes he could erase that part of his life, the time he spent observing and collecting data prove useful to him now.
The day outside is gloomy. The clouds seem to mock him, closing him into a space he’s been forced into anyway.
Bucky clucks his tongue.
“Has there been any dreams again?”
He turns to face his psychologist. She sits with a frown nettling her face, leg bent over the other, the tip of her shiny black boot white and apotropaic for Bucky.
“No,” he answers. Not since her. Not since Meatball.
“Are you having any sort of dream?” she asks, eyes briefly falling to her notepad duteously spread on her knee.
Bucky bites the inside of his cheek. Yes, he wants to say. So many. Of her and her big eyes and the way her smell seems to linger in the hall even after she’s left. Dreams of following her down a long, empty hallway, of pining her against a wall and watching the way her skin flushes, glows, under his stare.
“Not really,” he opts for, determining that confessing dreams of stalking a neighbor would not earn him points with both his psychologist and the government.
“Sam told me you ordered surveillance equipment?” she continues, chin in her palm.
Of course, Sam would not completely believe Bucky.
“There’s this neighbor,” Bucky starts, hands on his knees. “I don’t know who lives there. Honestly, all I’ve seen is their animals. And they’re being neglected. Left for days unattended. I sometimes see through the living room door that there’s no food.”
The doctor nods, writes, hums.
“Do you feel like that’s a good hobby to have, Mr. Barnes?” God, he hates when she calls him that.
“Animal rescue?” he tries, tone faking innocence.
She snorts. She sees right through his ruse. “Stalking.”
Bucky jerks ever the slightest. “It’s not that,” he groans. “It’s mostly… I feel useful, and I feel like I’m partaking in something good for once,” he sighs.
“Rescuing animals,” she says, writing something down in that little stupid fucking notepad.
“Yes,” he grits between his teeth. “I’m not waiting to kill someone,” he retorts, and immediately regrets it.
“Is that what you think I think of you?”
Bucky rolls his eyes. “Sometimes.”
She smiles slowly. “I am only here to help you.” She readjusts in her seat. “And if you are constantly thinking that I’m here to undermine you, then this relationship won’t work. We won’t be able to move forward.”
He nods, biting back some remarks he should really keep to himself.
She stares at him for a few moments, then down at her watch. “Our hour is over, Mr. Barnes.” She settles back in her seat, scribbling some notes down. “Until next week.”
Bucky all but storms out of her office, past the receptionist who wishes him well, and out into the gloomy New York air. The office is a few blocks away from his condo, and he uses the time walking to keep his mind from conjuring images of strangling that woman to death.
When he gets to the back door of the complex, he notices a familiar figure coming his way. He schools his features into something more homely, warm, and magnetic. He tries to conjure the womanizer he was in the forties, but something about this girl, Elora, doesn’t make him want to be that: a jerk. He wants to be good to her. He knows he can be good to her.
“Hey,” he says.
She squints as she approaches him, and when she recognizes him, her face lights up. “Oh, hey!” She smiles and Bucky swears she’s the most beautiful creature on Earth. “James! Or Bucky.” She has a backpack on, the color of rust.
“It’s just Bucky,” he says, smiling, leaning a shoulder against the wall. She watches his nonchalance, and Bucky thinks he spies a moment of attraction flitting across her face. “Where you headed? Lost Meatball again?”
She chuckles, pushing hair behind her ears. Adorable. “No,” she says with a shy smile, crossing her arms across her chest. “Sorry about that. Or, I guess, thank you.”
Bucky nods with a faint smile.
“I’m just headed to that… apartment I told you about?” She’s acting cold, restrained now, as if she’s either afraid of him or afraid of what he’s going to say about her little jaunts next door.
“Still on that animal rescue mission?” he asks humorously.
That seems to dispel the tension in her shoulders, and she laughs. “Yeah, I’m going to feed them actually.”
Bucky nods, pushing from the wall. He can see the sparkle in her eyes as she assesses him. He knows she finds him attractive. He’s seen himself in the mirror a few times.
“Mind if I join?”
Her mouth parts and it’s the most adorable view Bucky has ever had.
“Really?” she asks.
“Yeah,” he answers, lifting a shoulder. “Always wanted to be the good guy.”
She laughs, unaware of the way Bucky stares at her with both hunger and longing.
“Alright, cowboy, let’s go!”
They walk across the street, and Bucky notices how Elora walks with her head high, not cowering and nervous. She’s done this before. She walks up to the basement sliding door of the aforementioned apartment and waits for Bucky to step beside her. From under the canopy of the upstairs balcony, her face is shadowed, cool, and she lifts a daring eyebrow to Bucky.
“So, what, do you know where the key is?” he asks, looking over his shoulder at the busy boulevard. “Or a barrette?”
She scoffs. Then she puts a finger to the knob and pushes, the door sliding open. Bucky smiles, holding laughter, and gives her an impressed raise of his brows.
“A woman with many talents,” Elora mumbles as she climbs in.
Once inside, Bucky closes the sliding door, and puts a hand to his mouth. It smells like excretion and rotting food. Or corpses. He wishes beyond anything that there are no dead animals here.
Elora behaves as if she lives here, bending down and retrieving food from her backpack. When she opens the bag, a few little kittens come stumbling into the messy, dirty living room. Bucky stands there, watching Elora crouched on the stained yellow carpet as she takes out cans of wet cat food.
“The dogs are in cages in the back room,” she says, jerking her chin towards the back of the apartment, and Bucky understands that as his cue to move. She hands him a bag of dog food, and when he takes it out of her hand, his finger brushes hers and fire licks up his palm. He tries not to fidget, or flinch away, but he’s wearing gloves, as always, to keep others from ogling his metal arm, and now he wishes more than anything that his flesh could have touched hers.
She doesn’t say anything about the touch. The gloves. She just shoves the bag into his hands and motions him to action.
He takes the dog food bag across the apartment, noticing the dirt stains on the kitchen floor, the mountain of rotting, dirty dishes in the sink, and that the walls are decaying.
The dogs, three pitbulls, are indeed in cages in what should have been the guestroom. Bucky holds back a gag. Some of the dogs have been left in their filth, and it stinks up the room. His heart squeezes at the sight of the animals laying down in tiny cages, their big bodies constrained to such a small enclosure. The dogs are looking at him, but none move. It as if they’re used to this: someone, anyone, not a master or friend, coming in and just feeding them.
“Heartless, right?”
Bucky turns and Elora stands in the doorway with a grey cat nestled in her arms.
“We should call someone,” Bucky says, opening the dog food bag, the dogs’ heads snapping up to attention.
“I’ve called animal health, rescue centers, even the police,” she adds. Then she shrugs. “They’ve all claimed insubstantial evidence. If I send pictures, they’re going to arrest me for B&E.”
Bucky nods, carefully opening the cage of the first dog.
“They don’t bite,” Elora says. “So, yeah, I come here sometimes and rescue some and send them to centers for neglected animals. Every time I come back, though, there’s more.”
Bucky groans, his heart burning, his head imagining scenarios of beating whoever puts these animals into such dire situations. Heartless fucker.
Bucky fills the first bowl and leaves the cage open. “We should take this one,” he says. “At least today. And tomorrow, we can come get the other one.”
Elora walks out and comes back in as Bucky is feeding the second dog. She hands Bucky a leash. “Feel free. She’s a female, by the way. I named her Claudia.”
Bucky snorts, closing the second cage on the other dog, heart wrenching as he sees the way the animal gobbles down food. How long have they been without food?
They feed the third dog, noticing burn marks on its haunches, and then leash up Claudia. She has difficulty walking, limping, her front paw badly injured from God knows what. Bucky follows Elora through the apartment, where she shows him the entire, disgusting situation. Bunnies in a cage with barely anything to do but sleep in their defecation. Birds in a cage left covered by a black, heavy cloak. More and more and endless kittens and adult cats. Bucky lets a few of the adult ones out of the back door, maybe to freedom or better homes, who knows.
As they walk across the street, Bucky helping Claudia along, the man can’t help but feel proud of Elora. His Elora. This incredible girl that risks her neck every time she walks into that apartment.
“Don’t ever go in there alone, ever again,” Bucky says as they near the parking of their complex.
She turns and frowns up at this man that she barely knows but appreciates. “Why?”
Bucky shakes his head, shakes the feeling from his bones, this feeling that wants to protect her from the world. He needs to bide his time. “Who knows when the owner can come back,” he answers. “They could be dangerous.”
She smiles, rolls her eyes, a behavior he will have to correct. “I can handle myself.”
Bucky’s shoulders tense. “I mean it,” he says, forcing himself not to grit his teeth. “You have me now. Use that.”
She smiles again, all teeth and cheeks and giddy innocence. “Sure,” she pipes up. “Now let’s get to my car and get these babies to a rescue.”
Summary: There is a wildness howling in the woods, and in you. Darkness answers darkness, and the brightness of the moon cuts through it all like a sharp knife.
Warnings: Dubcon/noncon, Minor descriptions of violence, bloodlust, very slight a/b/o, stalking, obsessive behavior, blood, manipulation
“I get this ache. And I, I thought it was for sex, but it’s to tear everything to fucking pieces.”
I am a MASSIVE Ginger Snaps fan, and also a monsterfucker, so this one was a labor of pure love. It’s one of my favorite horror movies, and if you’re not squicked by body horror, you should check it out. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this, and please let me know what you think in the comments and reblogs. ❤️
This is a work of FICTION, and it is Dark, so I assume once you’ve clicked through the link that you are comfortable with that. I do not give consent for my work to be copied, translated, or posted elsewhere, even if I am credited. This work is entirely mine, and unbeta’d, so read at your own risk! MINORS, DNI!
You’d sound completely insane if you ever told anyone your greatest secret. Even so, you’ve often found yourself wondering how someone would react just on the off change that you did decide to share it with them. Would they laugh it off as a good joke? Scoff while telling you you’re an attention seeker? Hell, insist it enough and they might ship you off to an asylum.
To be honest, it hasn’t always been a secret. As a child, you were rather open towards expressing yourself and your inner thoughts, but of course, children are allowed to talk nonsense, aren’t they. Back then, people would just smile, impressed by your extremely detailed imagination and very ‘mature’ personality for someone so young. By the time you reached middle school, however, it was no longer cute to insist you don’t need school since you already have two PhD’s and will be eighty-four in the summer which, in your opinion at least, was far too old to be stuck with preteens gossiping about boy bands and wearing revealing shorts that barely covered their butts.
When the weird stares and hurtful mocking became apparent, you learned to keep your mouth shut and maintain the secret that you are two people at once…and no, this isn’t a case of personality disorder; you ruled out that conclusion by the time you were fourteen. No, this is a case of having been reborn again sixteen years after dying yet somehow maintaining all the memories your past life had experienced.
Beyond anyone else’s understanding and sometimes even your own, your story technically began on July 21st, 1919, in Richford, New York when you had been born as the second child and daughter of a far more modest Stark family. Your parents, ever so old fashioned, decided to keep with the 'H’ theme they began with your brother, naming you Hollie. As Hollie, you lived a wonderful life, having a fair share of both love and heartache before being murdered in 1974 which you honestly could’ve done without.
While death usually marks the end of most people’s stories, apparently good old Hollie Stark was too stubborn to go out after round one, instead deciding to come back as (Y/n) (L/n) in 1990; a life you’ve been living for the last twenty years now.
Despite how much you enjoy your life as (Y/n), it hasn’t been easy starting over again. You carry all the knowledge that comes with having navigated life once before and, with that said, the connections you had made as Hollie still hold strong within your heart yet remain high out of reach for someone as ordinary and young as (Y/n).
Regardless of whether others believe it, deep down you know that you are Hollie and long for the life that had been stolen from her throughout countless moments of her time. You miss your brother and nephew, you miss your best friend as well as the good you did together for the world, and most importantly of all, you miss your beloved James Buchanan Barnes; the man Hollie’s heart had been set on marrying only for the war to tear him out of grasp.
Most of whom you love are gone as are the exact opportunities you had as Hollie, but as you’ve come to stubbornly conclude, that doesn’t necessarily mean (Y/n) can’t try to follow in some of her footsteps, too.
“(L/n), he’ll be seeing you now.”
You stand to your feet with your resume folder in hand, bowing your head with a polite smile to the receptionist as you pass by into the office. While you’ve learned long ago not to ever get your hopes up, you can’t help but feel a bubble of confidence as you take another seat, eagerly prepared to start living your life where the previous one left off.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Director Fury. My name is (Y/n) (L/n).”
OVERVIEW: Given your old-fashioned personality and obsession with all things 1940s to 1980s, it’s no wonder that most people refer to you as an ‘old soul’ who would’ve rather lived back then than in the modern era. Little do they know, you already did, but with your previous life as Hollie Stark cut short, you’ve been left with some…unfinishedbusiness, to say the least. Top of your list? Finally getting to marry your thought-to-be-lost fiancé.
NOTE:Reader will use the name Hollie Stark and female pronouns during or when referring to past events, but will be use (Y/n) (L/n) and gender neutral for current events.
A/N: Okay, I am sorry this has taken so long. My hand and my brain weren’t cooperating, and this isn’t the most exciting chapter, and it’s a bit shorter, but ish is about to hit the fan. Just give it a minute. thanks for reading
Pairing: ex!Bucky x reader
Warnings: mentions of drug use, alcohol abuse, etc. Sexual assault (if this is something you can’t read, skip the italics, please. Take care of you first)
Word Count: 1582
After a near food fight at dinner time (both those super soldiers had it coming), and a night of nightmares, you wake up to the sun glaring in the window and Bruce clicking at his computer near your bed. You stretch, then sit up.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Bruce says.
“You didn’t. The sun did,” you say with a chuckle, gesturing toward the light glaring in.
“I can close the blinds?”
“Nah, I’m awake now.” He nods, then goes back to clacking on his computer. “How’s everything look, doc?”
“Very stable, Y/N. You are incredibly lucky.” He looks at you with seriousness in his eyes. “If we didn’t have Narcan, I don’t think we’d be having this conversation, Y/N. I don’t want to underemphasize how close you were to dying.” You nod, looking down at your hands. “Your meetings with Dr. Raynor will continue to be important as we move forward with your recovery.” You nod again, and Bruce goes back to typing on his keyboard. After a few minutes, he squats down next to your bed. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” you say, though you weren’t entirely convinced. Somewhere, still, in the back of your mind, you knew you’d run as soon as the Vivitrol wore off. But you didn’t say anything. Bruce nods, and starts unhooking the machine, shutting off the heart monitor and removing the pads from your chest.
It only takes a few minutes before you’re completely unhooked, your IV is out and you are sitting on the edge of your bed.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y.? Please let Captain Rogers know that Y/N is ready to leave the med bay.”
“Yes, Dr. Banner.” He walks around the bed and helps you stand up, steadying you as your legs are weak and you almost fall. It feels good to be upright, though. You smile at him as Steve and Bucky walk into the med bay. Their eyes are on you, leaning into Bruce’s arm for support.
“You sure you’re strong enough?” Steve asks as he gets to your side. You just nod.
“Oh, I brought these,” Bucky says, moving to your side. He has a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, different from the last time. He hands them to you with a smile. “I figured you might like to get out of that very attractive gown.” You chuckle and stick your tongue out at him.
You change quickly, all the men turning around to give you privacy, much easier without all the cords and wires. Then, at last, with Bucky on one side and Steve on the other, you walk out of the med bay, hopefully for the last time.
They help you walk toward the elevator, then to the main living quarters. You walk with them to the couch in the living room before sitting down, shaky. Your walk exhausted you and you lean against the back and close your eyes.
“You okay?” Bucky says, squatting down in front of you.
“Yeah. Just a little tired,” you say with a smile, not opening your eyes.
“Okay. You rest. We’ll be here when you wake up.” He stands and leans across you to place a kiss on your forehead. Before he stands back up, he whispers, “I love seeing you in my clothes.” Butterflies flutter in your stomach and you try your best to not respond. He stands up and walks away. You sigh, trying to sink further into the couch.
Sometime later, you’re not sure how long or if you even slept, you wake up to the couch next to you shifting. You open your eyes to see Sam Wilson on the opposite end of the couch.
“Good to see you up and at ‘em,” he says with a smile. You smile back. “I know we haven’t really talked much. I’ve been busy with contracts.”
“I know. It’s fine. I haven’t been much fun anyways.” You try to laugh, but it sounds more forced than you like. Sam doesn’t laugh though. He leans back against the back of the couch.
“I knew Freaky Magoo would be there for you, anyways.” You snort at his comment.
“Freaky Magoo?” you ask, humor lacing into your voice.
“He does have a staring problem. You can’t deny it.”
“You’ve got a point, though.”
“Hey!” You laugh at the deep voice behind you. You shift to peek over the couch to see Bucky leaning against the island in the kitchen. He chuckles, then goes back to filling his water bottle. You glance back over at Sam.
“What are we doing tonight, boys?” You melt into the back of the couch and close your eyes.
“Looks like you’re going to bed, Y/N,” Sam says with a chuckle.
“Nah, I’m a real party animal.” As the words leave your mouth, you wish you could bring them back, but you shake your head. “That wasn’t funny.”
“It was a little funny, in a twisted kind of way,” Sam says, and you chuckle.
“I’m nothing if not a little twisted,” you all but whisper.
“Aren’t we all?” Bucky says, flopping onto the couch between you and Sam, instantly lightening the mood. You would thank him if he didn’t keep talking. “I say we watch a movie. We used to have movie nights all the time.” The boys talked about what movie to watch, and, at some point in the conversation, Steve came in, flopping on the other couch in the main room. You barely noticed him coming in, your eyes still closed.
“Okay,” you say, your eyes still closed. “It’s been a long time since I watched a movie.” As it turns out, it would be even longer, because, as the opening scene was playing on the huge TV, you fell asleep, your head slipping onto Bucky’s shoulder.
“Hey,” you vaguely hear, someone shaking your shoulder slightly. You groan, not wanting to move. “Y/N. Let’s get you in bed.” It’s Bucky, you realize but you push his hands away, making him chuckle. “Come on Sleeping Beauty.” He stands up, and you all but flop onto the couch as he moves. “You leave me no choice,” Bucky says, laughter in his voice. You feel his large hands under your torso and legs, and he lifts you up easily. You wrap your arms around his neck instinctively, and nuzzle into the crook of his shoulder. He hums softly, and his swaying footsteps lull you back to sleep.
Lights. Bright lights blind you. Bodies sway and bump into you and you can’t make yourself care. Sweat drips from your forehead, hair, down your back. You grind up against someone behind you.
“Let’s get out of here, baby,” a deep voice whispers in your ear.
“What do I get out of it?” you yell above the pulsing bass filling the room. A chuckle rumbles through the man’s chest, vibrating against your back still smashed up against his front.
“What about this?” he says, holding a white pill in front of your face. You spin to face him. You vaguely think you should ask what it is, but you don’t care, honestly. You stick your tongue out and the man places the white pill on your tongue. You swallow it easily. He grabs your hand and pulls you along with him, out the door, and onto the back of his motorcycle. You hold onto his torso as he weaves in and out of traffic, toward the skeevy apartment complex you both call home, his 3rd floor apartment only 2 floors below your own. It takes a few minutes, but soon, calm and quiet washes over you. The world around you melts away.
After he pulls up to the apartment complex and parks his bike, you all but fall off the side of it, your already short dress hiking up, and you giggle.
“Come on, baby,” the man says, wrapping his arm around you. “Want to have some fun?” He doesn’t even wait for your answer, all but dragging you up the stairs toward his apartment. By the time you get there, your legs are feeling like jello and you can’t make yourself care about anything.
“Here,” he says, running his finger up your thigh. You bristle at the touch, but he takes that to mean anticipation. You try to push him away, but he doesn’t budge. He places a small patch on the inside of your thigh, almost to your panties.
Almost immediately, your eyes roll back in your head and the only way to describe what you feel is euphoria. Everything in the room slips away into blackness and you welcome it.
Some time later, you aren’t even sure how long, you wake up, your dress pushed up and your underwear no where to be found. The man, Marco, your dealer, lays on the ground beside you, his own pants missing. You try to move, but pain shoots through your abdomen, and you realize all at once what happened. You realize you had been raped and you weren’t even conscious enough to remember it.
“Y/N!” Bucky screams, shaking you awake. Your screams still ring through the room though you don’t realize that you are still screaming. Tears fall down your cheeks and every inch of your body is shaking. “Hey, hey, hey,” he says, pulling you into his arms, and you try to push him away, but he doesn’t move. “I got you. You’re safe now.” You scream at him and his grip falters.“Let me go, please! Please!” He does as you ask and you all but fall off the bed and run into the bathroom, closing the door behind you.“Y/N!” Bucky yells after you, but you press your back against the door and slide down it, sobs wracking through your body. “Y/N, open the door please?” Bucky’s voice is sad at first, but he repeats himself over and over, each time sounding more and more frustrated. “Damn it, Y/N. Open the door.” He slams his hand on the door, and you scream in response. After a few minutes, you hear him sigh through the door. “Please, Y/N,” he all but pleads. You curl into your knees, your back still against the door. You feel the door shift and, for a moment, you think Bucky is coming through anyways. He could, easily, break the door, but it doesn’t move again, and you realize he is probably leaning against the other side. You hear sobs through the door, and yours start again.
A/N: In which we realize Bucky is an idiot, but a cute one, a truly dangerous combination. Hope you enjoy.
Pairing: ex!Bucky Barnes x reader, friend!Steve Rogers x reader
Warnings: mentions of drug use, alcohol abuse, etc., stupid, cute Bucky. Yes, it deserves a warning.
Word Count:
A few hours later, you wake up, stretching your arms above your head. You open your eyes to find them swollen and painful. You remember your breakdown earlier and groan, closing your eyes, rolling onto your side. You vaguely wonder where Bucky is, your bed empty, but when you open them, you see a different super soldier looking at you with a smile.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Steve says with a chuckle. You grunt, closing your eyes again. He laughs at your response. After a few minutes, you stretch again, dragging yourself into a sitting position.
“I think it’s afternoon,” you say, and Steve chuckles again.
“Have a nice nap?” he asks.
“Not really.”
“You sound like Buck,” he says and looks at you. “Sorry I haven’t been around much since you got here, Y/N. Fury has me doing some recon and I’ve been in and out with Sam.”
“I get it. There’s still a world to save out there.”
“Now more than ever, I’m afraid.”
“Yeah… I’ll just be glad to get out of this bed.”
“I bet. That’s actually what I came to talk with you about.” You look up at him and he’s studying you carefully. “Bruce says he thinks you’re ready to leave the med bay, at least that you don’t need constant monitoring.”
“That’s what Dr. Raynor said earlier,” you say with a nod.
“How do you feel about that?”
“You sound like Dr. Raynor,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I mean, I’ll be glad to leave. This bed sucks.” Steve smiles at your response.
“So, we uh… we talked about it, and we all think it’s best if you stay at the Tower. At least for a little while.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“That’s it? I expected more push back.”
“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” Steve furrows his brow at your comment. “Even if I left, you’d come find me and drag me back. Why bother?” You lean back again, your head on your pillow.
“We’re just trying to do what is best for you, Y/N.”
“Is that why you forced Vivitrol on me, Steve? When I wasn’t even awake to consent to it?”
“Exactly, Y/N. You weren’t awake. You were in a coma because you overdosed, Y/N. I did what I thought was best.”
“And Cap always knows best,” you mumble.
“That’s not fair, Y/N.”
“Life’s not fair, Steve,” you snap, but your anger quickly disappears.
“I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through, Y/N. I can’t even pretend to understand. But I just buried one friend. I am not going to bury you too. I am not going to…” He looks down at his hands. “I am not going to lose you again.” You swallow down the lump in your throat.
“I’m sorry I put you through all of this, Steve.” It’s your turn to look at your own hands, your fingers threading and unthreading through each other.
“And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” You look up at him and his eyes ring with sincerity.
“You tried to be. That’s on me. How many voicemails do you think you left me? Probably 1000,” you said with a smile. He laughs at that.
“Probably more like 10,000. I am sure you got tired of hearing my voice.”
“Never,” you say with a smile.
“So, we have your old apartment ready for you. Bruce still wants you to come check in daily, to monitor your heart. He just wants to make sure there’s no long-term effects.” You nod, listening. “There’s going to be some ground rules, Y/N. We can’t do this again. You can’t do this again. No alcohol, at least for now. Bucky, Sam and I all agreed to keep it out of the Tower so it’s not even here to tempt.”
“You don’t have to do that, you know. I’m a big girl.”
“A big girl with some impulse control issues,” he says with a smile. You stick your tongue out at him, and he laughs. “Just for now. It’s probably better for all of us anyways.” You nod. “You’re not going to be alone for a while, Y/N. One of us is always going to be around.” You roll your eyes.
“Is that really necessary?” you ask.
“For now, yes. I can’t lose you, Y/N. I can’t do it and I know it would kill Buck too. We’re your team, and for now, we’re all in this together.”
“That was very cheesy, Captain.” It’s his turn to roll his eyes with a chuckle.
“You’re like a little sister to me, Y/N. I’m here for you. Always.” Steve’s words ring with sincerity, typical Steve Rogers. You hear someone knock on the doorframe, and you look up to see Bucky leaning against the door.
“Am I interrupting something?” he asks, a smirk on his face.
“Nope. I think Steve was going to confess his undying love, though. You might want to stick around.” You watch as a blush spreads across his cheeks and chuckle. You look back over at Steve, who is now standing beside your bed. You smile at him. He leans down to kiss your forehead. You close your eyes at the contact. He pulls away and brushes your hair out of your face.
“I’ll be back later.” You nod, and watch as he walks out the door, pausing to whisper something to Bucky before leaving. Bucky nods solemnly before walking around the bed, scooting his chair so his knees are, once again, pushing against the edge of it.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, his voice sincere.
“Fine,” you say with a chuckle. It wasn’t until it was pointed out that you realized you do say it a lot, even when you aren’t fine. Bucky chuckles as well.
“Well, I… uh… I wanted to talk to you, about some of the stuff you mentioned earlier.”
“We really don’t have to, Bucky.”
“I want to. I feel like I need to say this.” You nod, knowing the feeling of needing to say something. Needing it out. He clears his throat before beginning.
“I… uh, when Steve got me out, I didn’t think I was worth it. I did so much damage… There was no way I could ever do enough good to tip the scales in my favor. I knew it was going to be hard to convince everyone I was worth it, but you, uh, the first time I met you, you never looked at me like that. When Steve told me about you, about your goodness, I couldn’t imagine why you’d ever side with me. You went against Tony, the only father you’d ever known, to protect me. And I, uh, I knew I wasn’t worth that.”
“But you were, Bucky. You didn’t do any of that stuff. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know that now, but you sided with me over Tony and I, uh, that meant something to me.” His words echo your own from earlier that day. He looks over at you. “I don’t think you realized that you became important to me, and I wasn’t even sure why. After we came back to the compound, and after I got to know you better, you became my whole world. My whole world revolved around you.” You watch his eyes fill with tears. “The day I realized something was wrong, that you were too edgy, too… I don’t know. You’d sneak off to your room and I knew something was wrong. That day was one of the scariest of my life because I didn’t know how to help you.” A tear slips out and runs down his cheek.
“When you shook in my arms, telling me that you needed help, I knew I couldn’t walk away. You were it for me. This was it for me. If I had to hold your hair back and hold you through the withdrawals every day for the rest of forever, I’d do it because it meant I could be with you.” You feel a tear sleep down your own cheek. “And then you got better, and the first time I saw you smile sober, the first time you laughed, it was like I could see the sun for the first time. And even then, you chose me. You chose me completely sober, and that meant something to me.”
“The closer we got, the more I fell until it felt like a freefall. I was terrified that I’d hurt you. I was terrified that I would break your heart and we’d end up… well, we’d end up here. So I never told you. We were friends and I knew that was going to have to be enough. I’d suffer for the rest of forever if it meant I’d have you in my life, even if just as friends.”
“But it wasn’t your job to keep my heart safe, Bucky.” Your words are barely above a whisper.
“Isn’t that love, though? Putting your happiness over my own?” Quiet settles over the room. After a few moments, Bucky continues. “When you introduced me to Sarah, she was nice. She’s like you, in some ways. Not in the important ways, but she was enough. She wanted to be around me and in my twisted up in knots brain, I thought she was my ticket to keeping you around. Your two best friends dating would have to be a good thing.” You close your eyes. You hadn’t thought of it that way.
“And I know now that it was stupid. I should have at least told you. But I was afraid that you’d leave…” He lets out a sad laugh. “So, I tried to distract myself. Distract myself from you with her. And it worked, for a little while. When we talked about it, you told me you were happy for me. That you wanted me to be happy and I wanted to scream that you’d make me happy, but I knew that would be selfish. And then you left. You didn’t even say goodbye. I just got up one day and your room was empty… Steve told me you left. That you didn’t want to see anyone for a while. And I always kind of thought you’d come home. That you’d come back to me…” You look up find him watching you closely.
“It broke me.” The words hang in the air for a minute, dread and guilt steeping into your stomach. You look down at your hands.
“Then, I, uh… She wasn’t you. I spent some time in cryo in Wakanda and they helped me to, uh, they got rid of the code words. And then Steve showed up. I expected you to be with him. He hadn’t heard from you, though, and I fought like hell because I wanted this world to be better for you, wherever you were. I wanted you to be happy.”
“Buck…” you whisper, but he continues.
“When I woke up and found out it had been 5 years, my first thought was of you. I almost showed up at your apartment. I found you and Steve talked me out of it. I wish now that I did. I wish I could have stopped it…”
“It’s not your fault, Buck. Not totally, anyways. It was always my choice.”
“You keep saying that, but it was, my fault I mean. I made stupid choices when your heart hung in the balance.” You can’t argue with him. He was stupid, but you know now that it hurt him too.
“When you walked it to Tony’s house, it was like the world stopped spinning, or it started again after being stopped for years. And then I saw it. Your shaking, your sunglasses, your stumble, and I knew. It was like before, and I was just as scared as last time. I moved my eyes off of you for 1 minute, and then you were gone. And if I had just watched you walk away… if I had just stopped you…”
“Hey, it’s not your fault, Bucky. It’s really not. I was… uh… I was overwhelmed by a lot of things. Tony was gone and I didn’t even get to say goodbye because I was too high to come visit. Honestly, that day, you were one of the furthest things from my mind.” He lets out a sad chuckle, but continues to look at his hands. “Hey,” you say, grabbing his flesh hand in your own. “I’m okay. I’m here because of you.”
“And Steve,” he mumbles.
“My boys have always had my back,” you say with a smile. He gives you a half-hearted smile. “And don’t tell Steve, but you’re my favorite.” You wink at him and Bucky laughs.
“I missed this,” he whispers, squeezing your hand with his own.
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.
