I wrote this poem-like ramble a few months ago & forgot about it.
Skin
It feels safer to makeout with a stranger than to ask a friend to hold my hand, I feel no sense of normalcy coming from a home where affection was banned. Maybe I just long for affection without vulnerability. If i’ve put every inch of flesh on display for you you’ll assume there’s nothing left to see. You’ll leave my soul & mind be. Yet my skin craves more, the skin ignored, the skin between all the parts their eyes adore, the parts they want to use & tease & fill. My soul aches from a childhood unloved, I learned to use my body young. I wish it felt safe to be touched where I don’t have to cover up, I’d rather sign up for more than have it taken by force- and of course, the skin between the rest craves touch, it’s had 22 years of not enough
Just wrote this poetry-adjacent thingy about how depression, anxiety, & fear of emotional intimacy have stolen my voice from me. Posting it before I can nit pick it, not everything has to be perfect!
a/n: hello folks! i'm sorry for the long wait for the next story :P i wrote this one thanks to the lovely and amazing person i am seeing currently, they heavily inspired this fanfic, so i want to give a special thanks to her ^_^ i hope you guys enjoy this one as much as i enjoyed writing it!!
word count: 4,658
Talking wasn’t one of my weaknesses. I have many weaknesses, but not talking. In fact, it was something I was very good at.
Too good.
If I was happy, I’d chatter away about my day, my thoughts, my feelings. If I was sad, I’d reach out to someone, have them lend me an ear. If I was angry, I’d blow off steam by ranting and swearing like a sailor. If I was nervous, I’d ramble until my heart stopped pounding in my chest.
It had never been a problem, though. Everyone seemed content enough to appease me, up until now.
It wasn’t like I never let the other person I was conversing with get a word in. I could listen, too! I asked questions, and I made sure no one ever felt like they were being left out of the conversation. I was just a chatterbox, simple as that.
I worked at the Avengers tower, freshly renovated and remodeled, as an assistant to the Thunderbolts*. I was in charge of keeping all their paperwork in order; dotting the i’s, crossing the t’s, among other things. It was a fine enough job–paid the bills. Plus, a few months ago, the team had remembered my birthday, and they all pitched in to get me a nice card and some flowers. I believed it was safe to say they liked me.
It was early morning when I reached the tower today. The team had gotten back from a mission a few days prior, and I was needing to wrap up some paperwork on their behalf. Some legal stuff, nothing new.
I made my way up the elevators to one of the higher levels, and I got settled down in my office, pulling out the pens and papers I’d need to finish my work.
I always made sure to leave my office door slightly ajar. I wanted anyone to be able to poke their head in, say hi, get my attention for something important. My office was on the way to the Thunderbolts* main meeting room, so it wasn’t unusual for one of them to swing by on any certain occasion.
After almost an hour of quiet, diligent work, I heard a soft knock on the door. I lifted my head from the papers scrawled across my desk, my pen stilling over the white sheets.
Bucky Barnes stood in my doorway, two cups of coffee in hand. One for me, one for him. He knew how to make it just like I liked it, so it had become a routine for him to bring me one on the mornings he was here.
My lips curled up into a smile, and his followed en suite (something which always made my heart flutter).
“Hey,” he said, and he stepped inside, placing my coffee atop my desk. I gratefully accepted, taking a sip of the perfect cup of coffee.
“Hey, you,” I replied. “Doing good?”
Bucky nodded, the same, boyish smile still on his face. I couldn’t look at him for too long, or else my heart rate would spike, and I’d get fidgety and restless.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice smooth. “I’m good. How’s your morning been so far?”
It was like he flipped a switch in me by asking his question. I set my coffee down, and I told him about my morning, in great detail. From the cute bird I saw (pictures included), to the jerk who cut me off in traffic, along with how I chipped my nail trying to open the car door with too many things in my hands. There was also the subject matter of the perfect weather today; not a cloud in sight! Oh, how I wished I could be spending my day outside.
Bucky, sweet as he was, listened intently to my every word. His lips were curled up in his small, signature grin, his blue eyes glimmering in the light shining through my office window. He leaned against my desk, nodding and humming along to my rambling. He didn’t break away his attention once, not even to sip on his own coffee.
Finally, I’d exhausted all the words I could say about my morning, and I turned my focus back to him, returning his slight smile.
“How about you?” I asked him. “How’s your morning?”
Bucky wasn’t as talkative as I was. He was more of a man of few words, though I didn’t mind. It made us fit together like two puzzle pieces. I was the talker, he was the listener.
Bucky shifted against my desk, and he gave a brief description of his morning.
“It’s good,” he said, then he paused, his eyes flicking over me.
“Better,” he added, his voice soft and low, “now that I’m here with you.”
I flushed, and I immediately averted eye contact. I couldn’t ever tell if he was flirting with me, or just being plain nice. I was only an assistant, after all. I was sure there were much more successful, much prettier women he would be interested in instead.
“You’d better get going,” I said. “Don’t you have a briefing with the team?”
Bucky’s smile faltered for a moment. He seemed miffed I brought it up, though not particularly at me. I didn’t want to kick him out of my office, but I had work I needed to get done too, and with him here, I’d be talking too much to get anything finished.
I gave Bucky an apologetic look. I knew how much stress the team brought him sometimes, even if he never admitted it out loud. I could see it from the way he was hesitant to go.
“How about we get lunch together, once you’re done?” I offered, almost hopeful.
Bucky’s expression brightened back up at this. He nodded his head, the soft smile of his returning to his lips.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Okay. Lunch. Sounds good.”
I nodded my head in return, my eyes crinkling at the edges from my wide grin, and we exchanged a few more words before Bucky reluctantly trailed out of my office. I held back a giggle at his dragging feet, shaking my head at him as he gave me one last glance over his shoulder.
“Go,” I urged him on. Bucky gave me a toothy grin before turning and disappearing around the corner.
I turned back to my work with a small sigh. I still had a ways to go before I finished, then there would be more to come after the fact. The paperwork was neverending, it seemed.
Another hour or so passed before my phone lit up with a text message from Bucky.
Meeting’s over, the message read. Meet me in the cafeteria?
I smiled at my phone like an idiot, and I responded right away.
Be there in five!
I gathered up my paperwork all neat and tidy, and I set it to the side before escaping out of my office. My heart beat with every quick footstep I took through the halls. I was rushing like I was late to a meeting, my feet gliding over the tile floors, and before I knew it, I turned a corner too quickly and almost ran into none other than John Walker.
“Oh!” I exclaimed, taking a step back. He tilted his head to look at me, a disgruntled expression on his face.
“Hi, John!” I continued. “Sorry ‘bout that. I guess I was in a bit of a rush here. I was just on my way to get lunch with Bucky. You all just finished a briefing, right? How was that? I heard you guys might be going on another mission soon. Gosh, you just got back from one! Feels like you guys are running all over the place all the time. I bet that’s tiring, but fun, too, getting to travel the world like that. I wish I could go around being a hero like you all. Though, I’m not too sure I’m physically cut out to be–”
“Do you ever stop talking?”
My jaw snapped shut. I blinked at John once, twice, taken aback. For the first time in my life, I was at a loss for words.
“I, uh… W-what?” I stuttered out. Maybe he was messing around with me. John always had an odd way of joking.
John let out a light scoff, eyes rolling. There was a sudden pit in my stomach, my heart still beating fast, but no longer in an excited, whimsy way.
“I mean, come on, it’s like an endless stream of nonsense,” John said. “Who wants to listen to that? You don’t have anything better to do than to yap someone’s ear off? It’s a wonder how some people are able to tolerate it.”
I stood there, silent, and I swallowed down the lump forming in the back of my throat.
“Oh,” I said quietly. “I’m… sorry.”
John grumbled something inaudible under his breath before turning to stalk off, leaving me alone in the hallway with tears brimming in my eyes.
After a moment of shocked silence, jaw hanging loose, I turned, and I dragged my feet along to one of the restrooms in the building, and I locked myself in a stall, sniffling and crying as soft as I could.
A million thoughts ran through my head. No one else ever complained about my talking. I never thought it was an issue. I just had a lot to say. Was there truth in John’s words? Did I really talk too much? Were people merely tolerating me, instead of actually listening to what I had to say?
I sobbed into my hands. Did Bucky think the same? What about the rest of the team? Were they all also annoyed by my “endless stream of nonsense,” but were too polite to say anything?
I could hardly think straight at this point, a stream of self-deprecating thoughts worming their way into my mind.
You talk too much. You’re annoying. No one likes being around you. No one wants to hear what you have to say. You’re too much. Do you ever shut up? Just stop talking. Just shut up. Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up–
My phone vibrated in my pocket with a text message, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. With tears still streaming down my cheeks, I pulled my phone out with trembling hands, staring down at the blurred screen. It was Bucky, checking in with me; a teasing little joke about how it’d been over five minutes now. I looked at the screen, unmoving, frozen in place.
How was I supposed to meet up with him for lunch now? I was sure he didn’t want to hear my constant rambling. I didn’t want to bother him with my nonsense. He was stressed enough as it was.
Slowly, I typed up an excuse to get out of lunch. Something about Valentina suddenly dropping by with more paperwork to catch up on. Maybe we could get lunch another day, (once I learned to reign in my rambles, though I omitted that piece of information).
I slipped my phone away before I could see Bucky’s response, and I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand before taking a long, deep breath. When I finally exited the stall, I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirrors–my streaked mascara and reddened, blotchy face. I grimaced at the sight.
I splashed some cold water onto my cheeks, fixing up my makeup before I left the safety and privacy of the bathrooms, and I quickly slipped back to my office, closing the door all the way behind me with a soft click.
I settled down at my desk with a heavy heart. There was nothing for me to do except continue to work, so I did just that. I spread the sheets of paper back across my desk, picked up my fancy pen, and I worked in a thick and heavy silence.
It wasn’t even about ten minutes later when there was a knock on my office door. I paused my work, and I almost considered telling whoever it was to go away. I didn’t want to talk to anyone right now, maybe not ever again.
Reluctantly, though, I set my pen down, and I murmured out a soft “come in.” The door cracked open, and in slipped Bucky, two plates of food balanced in his hands.
“Hey,” he said, using his foot to shut my office door behind him. I stared at him and the food in hand.
“Thought I’d bring you lunch,” he said, “and we could eat in your office while you caught up on work. That okay?”
I gave a simple nod of my head, keeping my lips sealed for now. Bucky set the plates down and pulled up a chair near my desk, sliding my food over towards me. I looked down at the plate, not even a little bit hungry, even at the site of the appetizing food. It was like my stomach was full of rocks, weighing heavy in the pit of my abdomen, leaving no room for anything else.
“Eat up,” Bucky said encouragingly, beginning to dig into his own food. I picked up the fork and poked around at my meal, a small frown tugging at my lips. I wasn’t hungry, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone at all, and yet, here was Bucky, being his kind and endearing self, and it was almost infuriating, in a way.
I took a single bite of my food, swallowed like it took everything in me to do so, then turned my attention back to my paperwork. Perhaps if I ignored him, he would go away.
Unfortunately, this tactic did not work. Bucky noticed my reluctance to eat almost right away, and paused his feasting to give me a once over, brows pulling together in something akin to concern.
“Lot of paperwork?” He asked.
I shrugged my shoulders.
“Yeah,” I said, and I didn’t say anything else.
Bucky stared at me for an extended moment. There was an almost tense silence as I tried to work on my paperwork and Bucky tried to figure out what was going on through vibes alone. His fingers drummed against my wooden desk while I pretended not to notice his sharp, blue eyes boring into the side of my head.
“Are you okay?” Bucky asked me, his voice soft and gentle. “You should be monologuing to me about Valentina’s endless paperwork right about now.”
I physically winced, my fingers tightening around my pen. So, he noticed it too. Monologuing, he called it. It was better than how John described it, but still, my rambling was enough for him to point it out to me. It was enough for me to never want to open my mouth again.
“I’m fine,” I said, more sharp than I intended. I opened my mouth to say something more, but thought better of it and pressed my lips tight together again.
Bucky didn’t push me any further, to my relief, but his lips were curled down in a slight frown, his eyes swirling with a mix of emotions. I didn’t look at him until he stood to leave, gathering up my barely touched plate and his own.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He said, a hopeful undertone in his voice.
I nodded my head, saying nothing. For a moment, I almost thought I saw Bucky deflate at my lack of words, his shoulders dropping down, but he gave me a soft smile and slipped out of my office before I could dwell on it for too long.
For the next couple of days, I continued my routine as usual. I showed up to the tower on time, I worked on the piles of paperwork building up on my desk, but, with John’s words still lingering in the back of my mind, I decided to keep my talking to a minimum.
I hardly opened my mouth during this time. Yelena swung by my office a few times, and I only spoke to her when spoken to. I kept my sentences short and brief, making a conscious effort to not pester her with my chatter.
Ava walked by my office a handful of other times. She poked her head in to say hello; I gave her a small smile in return, nothing else.
Alexei came by once or twice. I barely spoke to him either. Bucky kept up his routine of bringing me coffee in the mornings, but I stopped telling him about my day in great detail now. Instead, when he asked me how I was doing, I’d shrug and give him a simple, one-worded reply.
A week of this passed by. Then another. No one seemed to mind or care. I was content in letting myself disappear in my work, being as quiet as I could. No longer a nuisance or an annoying chatterbox. No one would ever have to put up with my yapping ever again, I promised myself. I wasn’t going to be that person in the office people merely tolerated. John was right. Who wants to listen to all that?
Another day of work went by, and I was in the midst of packing my things up when there was a knock on my office door. I looked up to see Bucky poking his head in, and for a moment, I almost forgot the promise I made to myself. I wanted to open my mouth and pour my heart out to him, to tell him all about my day and ask him a million questions about his.
I stopped myself in my tracks. Bit and held my tongue instead.
Bucky took a step inside my office, gently shutting the door behind him, and he crossed his arms over his chest while leveling me with a look so stern it had me sinking into my seat.
“Alright,” he said firmly. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you, or do I need to shake some sense into you?”
I blinked at him; cocked my head to one side like a confused animal.
“What are you talking about?” I asked. Was something wrong? Did I do something to make him upset, I wondered?
Bucky let out a long sigh and rubbed a hand over his face.
“I tried to give you some space,” he explained. “I thought maybe I’d done something to upset you, but I talked to the rest of the team, and they said you’ve been the same towards them as well. You hardly talk to anyone anymore. Barely even a peep out of you nowadays.”
I stared at Bucky as he told me his concerns. I didn’t think he had even noticed my sudden vow of silence. I didn’t think anyone did.
“If I did do something…” Bucky continued, “I want you to tell me, so I can make it right. I don’t want you hurting in silence because of me.”
“No!” I said quickly. I shook my head, my brows furrowing together.
“No, no, you didn’t do anything,” I said. I let out a soft, frustrated sigh, my bottom lip finding its way between my teeth.
Bucky slowly made his way over to my desk, pulling up a chair and taking a seat right beside me, his gaze locked onto my form. He didn’t say anything for a moment. He reached his metallic hand out, almost hesitant, hovering over my hand placed on the desk. Then, after a brief pause, his cold palm enveloped mine, his thumb brushing over my own cold skin. My extremities were always chilled. Poor circulation, or something.
My bottom lip quivered. It’s not like I didn’t want to talk to him. I did, but I could hear John’s words echoing in my head. Bucky was the last person I wanted to bother with my “endless stream of nonsense.”
Bucky turned my hand over in his, tracing over the lines in my skin. I tried to ignore the way it sent a wave of warmth through me, despite the chill of his vibranium prosthetic.
“Will you please tell me what’s wrong?” He asked, his voice softer than I ever heard it before. Then, like he was adding the finishing blow, he said, “I miss hearing your voice.”
I couldn’t resist any longer.
“I talk too much,” I said simply.
Bucky stilled his ministrations over my hand. He tilted his head toward me, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
“What?” He said in disbelief.
I shrugged my shoulders, avoiding his gaze.
“I talk too much,” I repeated myself. “It bothers people. I don’t want to be a bother. I thought if I talked less, I wouldn’t be such a nuisance.”
Bucky’s hand squeezed mine tight, then relaxed, a small puff of air escaping through his nose.
“Look at me,” he said.
I hesitated. Bucky, clearly not having any of it, reached his free hand out, fingertips brushing over my cheek, turning my head to connect my gaze with his. I swallowed hard, his eyes boring into mine with all the seriousness in the world.
“Listen,” Bucky said. “There is no one on this earth you need to change yourself for. Not a single person. I don’t care what anyone says. I love hearing you talk. It’s the highlight of my day, listening to what you have to say. You make it so easy to just listen. You don’t expect me to fill in the gaps. You don’t push me to talk, you know I’m more of a listener anyway. You just… you’re perfect, alright? You don’t talk too much. You talk just the right amount.”
I stared at Bucky in shock. I could literally just cry. Something warm and wet dripped down my cheek, and I realized I was crying. I sniffled, and I wiped at my nose with my sleeve.
“You really think that?” I asked him, my voice quivering.
Bucky gave me a gentle smile, his thumb brushing away the tears falling down my face, and he nodded his head.
“Of course I do,” he said softly. “I don’t bring you coffee every morning just for the hell of it. I like hearing you ramble about your day.”
I took in a shuddering breath, and I let Bucky’s words sink in. He didn’t mind my chattering. Hell, he said he liked it–loved it, even. I wasn’t being a bother to him like I thought I’d been.
Bucky shifted closer, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of my face.
“Who told you you talk too much?” He asked me.
My lips pulled down into a slight frown. John was an asshole, but I didn’t want to be a snitch, either. Then, I’d really be a blabbermouth in his eyes.
Bucky gave my hand a firm squeeze, silently pleading with me. I sighed, shoulders slumping forward.
“Well, John-”
Bucky’s nostrils flared at the mere mention of John. His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing into slits. He looked about ready to barge out of my office and teach John a lesson.
Instead, Bucky let out a slow, controlled exhale as I explained what John said to me a few weeks prior. There was a long stretch of silence once I was done, Bucky stewing in a silent, simmering anger. I could almost hear his teeth grinding together.
Finally, Bucky broke the silence, his hand still steady over mine, squeezing reassuringly.
“I’ll take care of John,” he said coolly. “Don’t you worry about him.”
He paused to let out a soft sigh.
“I just need you to promise me one thing, okay?”
I tilted my head at Bucky, my brows furrowing together.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Promise you’ll start talking again?” He said. “As much as your heart desires, and never stop. Can you promise me that?”
I let out a watery chuckle, wiping at the dried tears on my cheeks, and I nodded my head.
“Yeah, okay,” I murmured. “I promise.”
Bucky gave me that boyish grin of his, the one which made my heart rush, and he let out a soft hum from the back of his throat–an almost satisfied purr.
“Good girl,” he said. I swear I almost died on the spot.
Bucky helped me pack my things up and walked me to my car soon after. I talked to him the whole way there, and he listened, patient and attentive, just like how it’d been before. He opened my car door for me, and I teased him about how much of a gentleman he was. I could almost swear I saw the tips of his ears turn pink.
The next morning back in the office, Bucky brought me my coffee as usual, and I yapped his ear off about a new TV show I discovered the night prior. He smiled and happily listened all the while.
John came by soon after Bucky left, all apologetic-like, like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. Bucky must’ve given him a proper scolding, because he could hardly look me in the eyes.
I accepted John’s apology. It wouldn’t do me any good to stay upset with him forever, anyway. I couldn’t force everyone to like me or my little quirks. To each their own.
I was beginning to wrap up my work for the day when there was a light knock on my office door. It was cracked open, no longer sealed shut like it had been during my couple weeks of silence. I glanced up, and there was Bucky, standing in the doorway, a bouquet of flowers clenched tight in his hand.
I blinked in surprise, my lips curving up in a soft smile, and I stood from my desk and approached him.
“What’s all this?” I questioned, my eyes flitting down to the flowers in hand.
Bucky’s throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly. He seemed to be almost anxious, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, but about what, I didn’t know.
“They’re, uh, for you,” he mumbled. He pushed them forward for me to take, and I did, freeing the poor plants from his suffocating grasp.
I brought them close to my face and took in a deep breath, humming at the sweet scent of the flowers.
“For me?” I said. “What’s the occasion?”
Bucky rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. He cleared his throat, barely able to hold my gaze.
“I… I was wondering if, maybe, I could take you out for dinner sometime?” He asked, his voice hardly above a hoarse rasp.
My eyebrows raised up, my heart doing somersaults in my chest.
“Like… a date?” I asked.
Bucky nodded his head slow, his eyes focusing everywhere but me, like he was already preparing himself for rejection. I thought I might pass out from how fast my heart was racing.
“Yes,” I said, assured, more sure of this than anything else in my life. “Absolutely. I would really like that, Bucky.”
Bucky’s gaze met mine. He had a nervous smile splaying across his lips, his eyes glimmering from the light shining through my office windows.
“Okay,” he said, “how does Friday night sound?”
“Sounds perfect,” I hummed.
After all this time, after all those mornings filled with my chatter and a coffee made just the way I liked it, I was going on a date with Bucky Barnes. A date with a man who didn’t view my chattering as a weakness, but as one of my strengths. Someone who enjoyed the sound of my voice.
He led me down to my car as usual, his metal hand resting on my lower back, listening to my excited ramblings with a warm smile on his face, and I knew then I wasn’t ever going to let this man go for as long as I could hold onto him.
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