#wintersoldier

Here is one more quick Steve Rogers for the Western AU

Writing a fanfic about this AU here: Never Goodbye

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Imagine comforting Bucky after a nightmare

Netflix: We are the kings of streaming

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Loki stans

❄️Bucky&Kobik Commission❄️

❄️Close up’s”❄️

Tried this new app on one on my old traditional drawings.. and i like it more than the original

Saudade

• A nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost : the love that remains•

Pairings : Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings : a lil angst

Masterlist

Careful metal fingers that had power to choose between someones life or death mere hours ago, now closed gently around a doorknob, pushing with a delicate force as to make no sound.

Dirt covered boots entered the hallway, a tired sigh leaving Bucky’s lips as he quietly moved to the bathroom. He plucked his sweaty and bloody clothes off his body, tossing his boots in a corner before stripping naked and letting the warm water wash the blood away.

The sound of the water droplets echoed through your mind, your tired eyes refusing to close and fall asleep. You had been up for hours, staring hopefully at the door for him to show up to dinner like he had promised.

Of course, it ended like it always did. You had stopped worrying when he came home late, slipping under the covers when you felt like it and eating your dinner alone.

There were days when he would indeed show up, but even those days you wished he hadn’t. The stretched silence would slice through the air, chewing and sighs filling the rest of the night as you both silently climbed into bed without a word.

At first, he would bother to pull you close to him as he fell asleep, an almost inaudible sniff and sigh passing his lips in content as he would visibly relaxed against you. He would tell you, even when it wasn’t the same, that you were his only peace in this life. You, and the house he had suggested to move into mere years ago.

It was never easy, living with Bucky Barnes, but back then, at least you were trying to hold it all together. Now, it seemed like ‘I love you’s’ were being thrown around like greetings, a silent attempt to keep each other satisfied but never truly meant with the heart.

A year ago, he would leave a sticky-note with a little message, most of the time a ‘Good morning ’ , but nevertheless one where you knew he would come back.

Now, you would wake up in the morning and only feel sheets that were cold for hours, no notes or texts. Calls went unanswered, promises lost its truth, and skin went untouched.

Weeks went by without sex, until you’d have an argument and resort to angry pounding instead of talking it out. Fights never went resolved or ever again addressed, apologies just a mere excuse for peace.

The shower that had played as white noise during your thoughts had stopped, cutting off your train of thought as you picked up the sound of wet feet across the marble floor. You panicked, why would you wait for him? 

He always had the tendency to walk naked, but because you barely saw him anymore, him truly naked you couldn’t even remember. The places where tiny scars littered his body, where you used to trace your fingertips, went forgotten. The way he used to call you sweet nicknames because he knew you hated them, but now missed dearly, was just a fragment of the past.

The inevitable creaking of the door made Bucky cringe, the promise of fixing it one day flitting in his mind as he tried to look at you laying in bed through the thick, black darkness of the night. Your silhouette was familiar in his mind, the soft rising and falling of your shoulders bringing a peace through him that now couldn’t seem to wash out the bad night he had.

A bloody mission it was, many throats caught in Bucky´s prosthetic as his weapon had been slapped out of his hands. Team mates too busy saving their own asses, Bucky had to force himself to let his old ruthlessness shine through when the masses augmented.

He had been covered in blood from head to toe, and he can’t seem to erase the horror filled eyes of Steve off his mind. He had looked at him like he had when they had encountered each other again after 70 years, scared, broken and worried.

He thought seeing you would help, but it seemed like nothing truly wipes out your sins. Without bothering to dress, he sat down on a chair, focusing all his attention on you to forget the events consuming his thoughts. He knew he would never be able to sleep if he couldn´t push away the horrible screams for mercy of the fallen HYDRA agents. He new they deserved it, those Nazi’s, but they were still human beings, and his horrible past seemed to catch up to him.

You felt his eyes on you, intense and focused, making your heart involuntarily speed up. It thumped loudly against your ears, and you were pretty sure he had heard it. You prepared yourself for yelling, another fight, maybe this time ending in a breakup, but were both relieved and disappointed when he only sighed.

You were disappointed that you weren´t even worth an argument, that he didn´t care that you faked being asleep. He probably was glad you were, so that he could avoid the awkward confrontation you two would have, so he could avoid coming up with an excuse as to why he was late.

Dropping the towel and pulling on some shorts, Bucky silently climbed into bed. He knew that you were awake, and that you knew he knew, but nevertheless he tried his best to be silent. The broken sigh that escaped his lips traveled across the bed, the empty space between you barely enough for it to brush against your back. 

He clenched his metal fist, fighting the urge to reach out and brush your hair, pull you close and whiff your familiar perfume that always cleared the smoke clouding his thoughts. The thing he was so afraid of came true : you finally got sick of him. You acted asleep so you wouldn´t have to talk to him, crawling to the very edge of the bed to not touch him, and the fact that he wasn´t mad made it all worse.

Sleep took over both of you, worries about your relationship pushed to the morning as always as the gaping hole between you became cold and empty. Blood splattered across the black of Bucky’s eyelids, his mind distorting slowly into old and painful memories he had managed to forget with difficulty. He tried to stop them, push them back, but they chained him down and buzzed his head.

It was mere minutes later, when a sharp pain shot up your back. You choked back a strangled groan, your tired eyes barely opening to find a sight you hadn´t seen in so long.

His body was rigid and stiff, his chest shooting up painfully as his fists clenched the bed. His eyes were sewn shut in agony as muffled screams escaped his grinding teeth. Sweat glistened on his exposed chest and arms, ragged breathing pushing past chapped lips begging to let the screams out.

As if on instinct, you grabbed one of the pillows and secured it on his prosthetic, putting your full weight on it as you shuffled up to his face. He started thrashing with his limbs, feeling the pressure on his arm and struggling to breathe through the raspy yells. You immediately pulled his head to your chest, his sweaty hair clinging to your face as you closed your eyes and tried your best to calm him down.

Your fingers rubbed softly over his tightened jaw, his free right arm hitting the mattress and occasionally leaving bruises across your body. You rested your chin on top of his head, his scruff tickling your chest as he huffed hurriedly on your neck. 

´´Let it out,´´ you whispered. As soon as you let those words out, his teeth parted and the most heart-wrenching screams echoed through the apartment. You stroked his hair, running your fingers through the strands and pushing them out of his face and behind his ears.

Slowly but surely he calmed down, his rigid body slowly relaxing against you. You put the pillow away, his fists unclenching and his arm whirring in panic. You continued stroking his hair and face, his eyes still closed and his breathing still a little fast, panting muffled against your neck.

You almost drifted back into sleep, when he spoke ever so softly, his voice croaking from the screams he pushed out. ´´I’m sorry´´

His fingers grazed over the bruise on your arm, his eyes watering. It had been so long since he had had one of these episodes, and he’s never going to forgive himself for not being able to stop it when he could. The bruises are not the only thing he’s sorry for, but he didn’t have the energy to express himself. 

You smiled lazily, tiredly closing your eyes as you stroked his cheek in an attempt to comfort him, as you knew he was beating himself up about it. He always did. ’’Me too.’’ 

The unbearable silence that had previously consumed him was replaced by the slow, rhythmic thumping of your heart against his ear as he nuzzled his face in your neck, sighing in content. ‘’I love you,’’ he breathed out sincerely, fire building up inside him for your answer. 

Maybe this was the last time he would be in your arms, maybe you’d just say it out of pity and the whole awkwardness would just resume the next morning until he had another one of his inevitable nightmares. But he needed you to say it nevertheless. 

‘‘I love you too,’‘ you sighed, kissing his crown to show him you meant it,’‘ too much sometimes.’’

In that moment, you both had hope that your love could be saved as you drifted into a peaceful dream.

-

tags

@imbrium-barnes

how do you feel about this spidey fan art? it doesn’t look like tom holland but we move!! #tom Holland #spider-man got him in his far from home suit, can’t wait to see how they move on from that! #fan art