... Heyyyyy y'all lmao. I've been doing a little bit of writing again lately after a very long span of 0 inspiration. Starting working on some ideas for Bucky Barnes and wanted to share a snippet from a fic I'm working on. I hope you guys enjoy! (For old followers hi love y'all truly. I might revisit old stuff I had posted but I will not promise anything, and I hope you stay for the shift in content)
No name for the WIP yet but I'll probably update this post when I come up with one.
Neighbor Bucky (tfatws) x Reader
Warnings: None at this moment, may change for full fic. No use of Y/N
The two of you sit on the fire escape connecting your neighboring windows, staring at the busy city below. Cars drive by as the two of you sit in this peaceful silence, a sense of calm taking over you. In this town of endless amounts of people, youβve found this moment of calm, here under the cloudless sky, sitting next to your neighbor as you both take in the night. You look out, counting the stars as you feel the memories of your nightmare that woke you start creeping back in. You try reminiscing on good thoughts, but you can feel it isnβt as effective as it normally is. Before you can stop the words from coming out you say,
βWhatβs your favorite memory?β There is a beat of silence again and you regret that you had blurted them out. You were about to apologize when his voice cut your thought off.
βWhat?β You look away from the sky and your eyes meet him as you see the slight confusion on his face, brows furrowed in a gentle question rather than in frustration.
βYour favorite memory. Or it doesnβt have to be your favorite if itβs too hard to narrow down, but..β you take in a breath, the cool air refreshing to the tension in your chest, helping to soothe away the night youβve had. β.. just a good one. That you remember. From before everything.β You slowly cut yourself off as you feel yourself rambling. This probably wasnβt the best to ask him, heβd lived most of his life as the Winter Soldier and had been in varying states of coherent in those years. Could he even remember anything from before? Heβd barely had a life of his own since then to try to make new memories. Doubts of whether or not this was a bad question start to take over, and you contemplate if you should brush it off and apologize for making it weird.
βSorry, you donβt have to answer tha-β
βWhen I was younger my momβ¦β A silence took over the both of you, your breath caught in your throat as you hadnβt been expecting a response. You glance at him, giving your attention, as you hang to his words waiting for him to continue. βShe used to love cooking and baking. This was way before the war and the mandatory rations and such. She would make these pancakes for me and my lil sister, though I doubt she was old enough to enjoy them really being as small as she was. But it was my favorite. Iβd wake up early, the whole house smelling like her cooking, and Iβd go out and sit at the counter and watch as sheβd sing her current favorite songs and just.. float around the kitchen. There wasnβt much alone time I had with her before she passed, but β¦β The pause was heavy as you could almost see the memory replaying before his eyes. βBut those early mornings were always ours. That would have to be one of my favoritesβ He finished as he looked over at you. Such emotion held in those eyes as you held each otherβs stare, each not wanting to be the first to look away.
