hello 🥰 i LOVED "home safe" and I am here to humbly ask for more john x reader 🥹
can we get something along the lines of him wanting to marry reader, but also super overthinking it bc he doesn't wanna fail again🙃 maybe their conversations about it, maybe it's angsty, maybe it's fluffy? Anything you wanna!
The Evolution of a Relationship [j.w]
summary : Life in the Watchtower was more domestic than you expected with a group of mercenaries. There were moments with many of your teammates, but how you felt about them with John was different from the others. Moments of caring, being together, and supporting each other lead to a confession on your one-year anniversary. Despite not thinking he could ever get married again, John doesn’t see a future where you aren’t in his life. So he finds a different way to express his dedication to you.
pairings : John Walker x Reader
warnings : Comfort. Dialogue heavy. Some language.
word count : 4,980
AO3 (x)
a/n : Thanks for the request. I decided being fluffy with this one was a good idea based on the other wips I’ve got stashed away. It took a bit to flow the way I wanted it to, but I think it turned out really cute!
Being part of the so-called New Avengers wasn’t anything you, nor your teammates, had expected. There were the expected missions, training, and living in the Watchtower. However, most of your days were different from what you had thought was in store when Valentina announced the team as the New Avengers.
Bucky and Yelena had stepped up to lead the team. On paper, Valentina owned the Watchtower you all were living in. The reality was that she managed the media of the team. Bucky focused on strategies using the team’s strengths while Yelena managed keeping the team together and working as a team. Ava could often be found working in one of the labs within the tower. Alexi spent many hours between the common room and testing the equipment in the gym. Bob found a sense of confidence in the kitchen when he wasn’t reading by a window. John was often analyzing reports or training.
Somewhere in all the missions, living together, and reeling from each individual trauma the seven of you had bonded into something. It was messy and dysfunctional, but you’d learned that, despite everything each of you had survived, there was nobody else you would trust the way you did your team. Each relationship between everyone is vastly different depending on who was involved. But this allowed everyone to have the support they needed no matter what issue they were facing this time.
It’d been a bad night for you, the first time you wandered out your room and found John sitting in the common area. He was focused on the large TV, flashes of light illuminating him leant forward on the couch in the darkened room. Quietly, you sat in the chair next to the couch, head resting against an armrest while you draped your legs over the other. John was playing a videogame, flashes of gunfire and grenades surrounding his character. The volume was low, leaving you straining your ears to hear the movements of the other characters on screen. It wasn’t until John released a frustrated huff and you heard the plastic clunk of his controller being put down that you’d begun to calm down from the nightmare.
“Couldn’t sleep?” You tentatively ask, trying to gauge what mood he’s in.
“Something like that.” His reply is clipped.
You tilted your head back, eyes landing on him as he dragged a hand down his face. “What are you playing?”
“Modern Warfare. The newer one. Not like–,” he heaves a sigh, “not like the third one, but the one from a few years ago when it was brought back.”
You hum, not entirely sure you follow what he means. You watch as he stretches, the sound of his back popping filling the silence that had settled between the two of you once again, then he picks the controller up once again. As his attention reverts back to the large screen, yours eventually follows.
You don’t know how long you stay there, slumped across the chair and watching him complete missions. The only thing you do realize is that when you wake up to the common room filled with sunlight, a blanket was draped over you.
You had moments with everyone.
Sometimes you would join Bucky when he was cleaning his guns. Other times one of you would find each other in the gym. Frustrations worked out with a punching bag. Running on the treadmill while you drown in thoughts. Lifting weights until the tremble you felt was from exhaustion instead of fear.
Yelena would loudly declare a girls night, guiding you and Ava to her room. The three of you would find the worst reality shows possible while talking through whatever was happening in life. Yelena would sit with her guinea pig in her lap, Ava laying across the foot of the bed, and you took the beanbag chair. One week the focus was on how Yelena wished Alexi would stop sharing so many stories about her childhood. Another Ava was frustrated that her suit modifications weren’t working the way she was expecting them to.
Quiet was often found in the form of Bob. You could always trade books with him, laugh while making a mess in the kitchen together, or have someone to run errands with. Some days you need to seek solace in mundane tasks, reminding yourself that reality doesn't always involve situations of life and death. In those times you were grateful for the perspective that came with Bob.
Alexi was loud in his care of the team. Declaring praises to everyone, believing there wasn’t anything the team couldn’t face. He acted like a doting father, even if his expression of this sentiment was bizarre at the best of times. While he continued to pick up Wheaties due to the fact Valentina had gotten the team to be on the box, Alexi also purchased little things for everyone. There were times he’d walk into the watch tower with a new knife for Yelena one day, another he had the next book in a series for Bob.
It was all surprisingly domestic.
John was different. There’d always been some part of yourself hidden away from everyone, pieces you’d thought too broken for anyone but yourself to acknowledge. Somehow John had slipped past your defenses and you hadn’t even realized. Nights much like that first one when you’d found him playing a videogame after waking from a nightmare. Sometimes it was you who couldn’t sleep, the tower too silent so far above the city leading you out the common area to sit on the deck. This led to nights where John was the one to find you instead. Sitting there, looking out over the lights of the city. When he first started sitting outside with you, he’d light a cigarette. Slowly, he’d stopped smoking as much until you couldn’t remember the last time he’d even stepped out with a pack of cigarettes.
You were never certain when the two of you would just exist near each other or when tentative conversations had the potential to happen. Slowly, the two of you began to open up to each other in ways the rest of the team would ever experience. The ghosts that haunted your dreams were slowly eased away by your late night talks with John. John had in turn sought you out to talk through his frustrations about not having the opportunity to begin to try and fix things with his son.
The rest of the team was off handling their assignments, leaving just you and John at the Watchtower. John had just returned from his most recent mission, suit torn and face covered in soot. You were benched, balancing on crutches and ankle securely set in plaster.
Making your way down the hall, you didn’t hear John’s footsteps approaching. As you rounded the corner you slammed into him, crutches preventing you from catching yourself as you bounced off him. You couldn’t prevent the yelp that escaped you as you began falling backward, eyes screwed shut as you braced yourself.
“Woah,” John muttered, “careful.”
He wrapped an arm around your waist, steadying you, while he took a slight step back. Heart racing, you blinked up at him.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” you excuse. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” You worry.
John’s quiet chuckle releases some of the tension in your shoulders. “I’m fine, it takes a lot more than you throwing yourself into me to be hurt. Are you alright? Didn’t hit your cast or anything?”
“Just wounded my ego,” you shrug, “more.”
The laugh John gives is stronger. He unwraps himself from your waist, hovering just a moment longer as if he’s expecting you to fall. “Alright, well, I’m going to put on some civvies. Meet you in the common room?” He steps aside so you can keep working your way forward.
“It’s your turn to pick food.” You place your crutches ahead, swinging your way through the step. “So you better hurry up. Otherwise I might just feel obligated to–”
“You are not subjecting me to any version of any housewives show.”
“Ava keeps saying I need to catch up.” You call over your shoulder as you round the corner.
As you work your way to the couch, John mutters something about how he’ll be just fifteen minutes. Chuckling to yourself, you reach the couch and sit down, carefully propping the crutches against the coffee table. You mindlessly scroll through the options of what to watch. Eventually you settle on some heist movie, not wanting something too hard to focus on as you stifle a yawn. As you stretch you bump one of the crutches, making the pair of them clatter to the ground.
John’s voice suddenly comes from beside you, “I’m going to put these against the wall.”
“Thanks,” you sigh in defeat.
John waves away your appreciation, settling the crutches into the corner. Settling beside you on the couch, he leans forward and gently lifts your legs up and settles them across his lap. He rests one hand on your uninjured ankle while scrolling his phone with the other. You stare at him, eyes scanning his profile. His hair is damp from his shower, he’s wearing a black shirt and a pair of plaid lounge pants, and his brow is furrowed slightly.
“I know you said it’s my turn to pick the food,” John starts while typing on his phone, “but what was the name of that barbeque place you said was near here? The one you suggested we all try a few weeks ago.”
“Mason Jar?” You tilt your head as the hand against your ankle gently tightens its grip.
“That’s it! I was thinking we could order something from there.” He taps against his screen a few times. “What do you want? The usual?”
You snort, “I doubt ordering from there twice makes me have a ‘usual.’”
He looks at you, face deadpanned, “So you don’t want the chicken and waffles?”
“I do,” you reluctantly admit, “I just mean–”
With a small smile John interrupts, “That so far you’ve only ordered one thing from them both times it's been delivered. Then, when you and the girls stop by there you still get that.”
You blow out a puff of air, rolling your eyes as he laughs. Soon he sets his phone down and leans back against the couch. The two of you watch the movie, sitting in a pleasant silence, and his fingers trace idle patterns against your leg. Just as another yawn escapes you John’s phone buzzes.
“The food’s here,” John gently lifts your feet up and slides out from beneath you, “I’ll be right back.”
John makes his way toward the elevator, entering once the doors open. You stay stretched out on the couch, yawning again. The credits of the movie make their way across the screen, lights dimmed, and you feel yourself blinking slower every time. Sooner than you’d expected, you relax fully into the cushions.
Unsure of when exactly he’d come back, you feel John’s arm sliding beneath you. He lifts you and suddenly you’re gently rocking in his hold as he walks. You curl into his chest and loosely grab his shirt. His grip on you tightens, pulling you closer against him.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, “just bringing you to bed.”
You weakly hum, burying your face into him. “Don’ wanna s’eep.”
John’s chest vibrates against your ear. “You need to. How long’s it been since you slept?”
“You left,” you sigh.
John stops. “What?”
“Y’lef me,” you slur. “Was ‘lone.”
“Baby,” John’s pained tone doesn’t register to you.
“Jus’ wan’ you t’stay,” you admit, no longer hiding your thoughts and feelings.
John’s walking again as the gentle sway returns. Far too soon, you feel a mattress beneath you. John’s fingers wrap around yours softly, guiding your hands out from around his shirt. You don’t hide the slight whine that escapes you as a blanket settles over you.
“I’m right here,” he promises. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The bed dips down beside you, John’s warmth seeping into you through the blanket. His arm settles over your waist, and he pulls you closer into him. You settle with his chest pressed against your back, his chin resting atop your head, and legs tangled together loosely.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers. “You’re safe, baby, you can go to sleep now.”
“Safe,” you agree with a sigh.
As you finally fall asleep, a gentle kiss is pressed against your hair.
Yelena practically bursts through the door of your living quarters, “So what are you wearing tonight?”
You shove the last of your weapons into the duffel that’s open on the bed. “My gear?” You question while zipping the duffel closed.
“What?” Yelena complains loudly. “But your anniversary–”
You hang your head in frustration. “I know, but I just got assigned a mission. I’m supposed to meet up with Bucky downstairs at six,” you sigh. “It’s supposed to be a quick mission, though. Simple in and out.”
“So I go,” Yelena reaches for your closed duffel.
“You just got back–,” you begin.
“Early.” She interjects.
“–from a mission,” you continue. “You deserve a break. I can go, John and I already agreed to celebrate when I get back.”
Yelena rests her hands against her hips and gives you an unimpressed look. “But today is anniversary! Big deal! Six months!”
“I know,” you worry your lip.
“So I go,” she says as if the matter is settled. “My gift.” Before you can protest further, she grabs the duffel off your bed and slings it across her shoulder. “I will tell Walker you are staying! Now, what are you wearing?” She smiles while grabbing her phone.
A fond warmth makes you smile while turning to your closet. You pull out options, holding them up to Yelena as she helps you decide what to wear. A lot of back and forth on whether you own anything that isn’t practical later, you find yourself in a fitted pair of jeans and green sweater.
“Why do you never wear that sweater?” Yelena throws her hands up. “It’s perfect!”
You laugh.
“I’m serious, it looks great on you. So different from your usual,” Yelena gestures back toward your closet, “that. So dark and boring. Colour suits you.”
“I don’t know. I usually worry about other things,” your phone chimes as your alarm goes off, “like going on missions. And being on time to meetings.”
She opens her mouth to speak just as her phone begins to ring. With a dramatic sigh she answers, “Yes, Bucky, hello. I know, I am coming now.” She pauses. “Yes, I have everything.” Another pause. “Yes I have read the assignment,” she holds her hand out for the folder beside you. “You doubt that I can do this quietly?” Her grin is amused as she turns toward the door with a wave. “You implied it.” Her voice grows fainter as she heads toward the elevator.
You stand in front of your mirror, smoothing down your hair and double checking your makeup. A gentle knock comes from your door as you grab your shoes. Quickly, you step over to open it, revealing John. You pause, taking in the flowers being held out to you. As you grab them you let your eyes move down him. The sleeves of the flannel he’s wearing are rolled up, his shirt is tucked into his jeans, his brown belt matching his boots. Your eyes meet his as you stand on your tiptoes to kiss him.
“Hi,” you smile into the kiss.
“Hi,” he kisses you once more before taking a step back. He, too, takes in your outfit and smiles. “I definitely owe Yelena.”
“I’m gonna grab a vase for these and put on my shoes, then I’ll be ready.” You grab his hand and guide him into your room.
“I was thinking we could check out the Whitney,” John suggests.
Walking back in with the vase of flowers you smile. “The art museum?”
John scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah. I thought, maybe, something quiet could be nice. A break from all the chaos. A date where we can actually get out for a few hours, forget about all the,” John gestures vaguely, “this. The heroing.”
You pick back up your heels. “I’ve always wanted to go to an art museum,” you admit while sitting on the edge of your bed.
John walks closer, kneeling in front of you. He gently takes the heels out of your hands.
“I remember. And, it shouldn’t be too busy either.” John lifts your foot slightly and slips on a heel. “They’re open late on Fridays, but since we’re going to be there when the restaurants nearby are busy there shouldn’t be too many people there.” His fingers carefully latch the buckle of your heel.
“You’re spoiling me,” you cup his cheek as he shifts to putting on your other heel. “Greeting me with flowers. Remembering when I mentioned always wanting to go to an art museum. Helping me into my heels so sweetly,” you lean forward and kiss his cheek. “How’d I get so lucky.”
“You didn’t,” John stands up, “I did.”
He holds a hand out to you, helping you up. You slide your hand into his, his fingers lacing between yours. The two of you make your way to the elevator, heading down to the garage.
“You’re good at this,” you swing your connected hands.
John looks down at you in disbelief. “At what?”
“Caring.”
John’s arms settle around your waist as you reach for your coffee mugs. “Morning, baby.”
You grab one of his hands while reaching for the coffee pot, a sleepy hum all you can manage. You fill the two mugs with the dark liquid. You pour just enough milk into each for them to resemble a warm brown compared to the inkiness left in Alexi’s wake, dropping a spoon of sugar into John’s before sliding his cup closer to the edge of the counter. With a final squeeze, John untangles himself from you and takes the cup with a kiss to the top of your head.
You pad your way to the barstools across the island, ready to have the assistance of your coffee to wake up. John opens the fridge and pulls out the eggs. You watch as he moves about the kitchen, pulling out a bowl. He sets to work chopping and mixing. By the time he begins to make the first omelet you feel significantly more awake.
“How was your night?” You ask softly. “I don’t remember you coming to bed.”
John shrugs. “It was fine. I was going over some reports to make sure I didn’t forget anything.”
“Oh, I thought those weren’t due until next week.”
“They aren’t, but with me being out of town next week I wanted to go ahead and send them to Ava. She said she’d hand them to Bucky when he got back from his mission.”
You frown, trying to remember if John had mentioned this trip to you already. You understood things slipping through the cracks, but him leaving for a full week? It wasn’t for a mission, and he hadn’t mentioned it.
John sets the omelet in front of you. “I was hoping you would want to come with me? I already got everything cleared for us if you did, so we wouldn’t be leaving the team in a lurch.”
Those words clear the weight that was building in your chest. “Of course I’ll go with you. Just let me know when we’re heading out to…?” You trail off questioningly.
The way John’s shoulders stiffen surprises you. He wasn’t usually so guarded with you anymore. “We’d leave tomorrow night. It’s about fifteen hours to drive back home to Georgia.”
“Oh.” You feel as if that one word doesn’t begin to cover your surprise.
John keeps his gaze downward. “Yeah. I usually go back every year at this time. With how new the team is, I know it’s kind of a surprise to everyone. Luckily Bucky understood and helped me get everything else squared away before his mission.”
You get up, making your way to stand in front of John. You guide his chin up, making him meet your gaze. “Of course I’ll go with you, John. I remember it was around this time when everything happened in Latvia, but I didn’t realize when exactly he’d,” you swallow the lump forming in your throat for the pain John must’ve been experiencing. “I’m sorry that I didn’t know. I’d be honoured to go with you.”
John’s eyes flood with tears. He nods, tightly grabbing your hand. “Thank you,” he says gruffly. “I’ve never had– I go stay with Mrs. Hopkins. Support her through the grief. She takes it harder now that her husband passed, too. I want her to know she isn’t alone.”
“You aren’t alone either,” you promise. “You deserve to grieve, too.”
He wipes his eyes. “I wish Lemar could’ve met you.”
“I wish I could’ve met him,” you admit. “The times you’ve mentioned him, he sounds great.”
“He was,” John chokes out a laugh. “He would’ve loved you. Tease the shit out of me, too, for taking so long to tell you how I felt. But he’d also be happy I wasn’t alone anymore.”
I love you, too. You thought.
It was a promise. One that you hated was broken for him so many times. A promise you knew you would never break.
His shoulders relaxed slowly as he began to tell you more about his life before. When things seemed so much simpler with his best friend by his side.
“Happy anniversary,” John says as you answer the phone.
You pull the covers back on the bed. “Happy anniversary! How are you?” You curl up on John’s side of the bed.
“I just finished up the assignment, and I’m about to start the drive back.”
“Are you sure you want to drive now? It’s kind of late, honey.”
There’s the sound of John jingling his keys. “I’ll be fine, it’s only a few hours this time. I want to see you.” The engine roars to life.
“Do you want me to wait up?” You cringe as you yawn through the end of your question. “I can stay on the phone.”
“You need to rest, baby. It’s almost eleven and I don’t want you forcing yourself to stay up until two.” John’s voice is warm with his concern. “I’m sure you had a busy day, so just relax and I’ll be home before you know it.”
“It was my turn to handle the shopping,” you begin. “I got Bob to tag along this time. He’s been doing better about not being alone so much.”
“That’s good,” you hear the faint rumble of John’s motorcycle, the only evidence he’s begun to drive.
“Yeah! We had to go to, like, three stores to get it all. I had to use your truck, we were out of practically everything.”
“That’s why I made sure to leave you my key, so you’d take the truck.”
You yawn again. “I know, and thank you. But it just feels weird to just take it. I get that you keep saying I don’t need to ask to use your things–”
“They’re more like our things.” John interrupts.
“Fine. I know I don’t need to ask to use our things, but I still think of the truck as mainly yours. It was weird not having you in it.”
John laughs. “You mean you missed sitting there while I drove? Wanted to be my passenger princess? All you’d have to do is just sit there. Looking all pretty while choosing the music and having me answer all your questions.” He teases lightly.
“Fine, you caught me!” You laugh. “You just had to leave me to my own devices. Making my way through traffic, having to load everything into the truck, opening my own door. How could you do this to me? I thought–” You’re cut off by another yawn. “I thought you were the muscle between the two of us.”
John hums.
“Plus,” you continue, “I finished the book I was reading.”
“You did?” John quietly prompts.
“Yeah, you were right. It wasn’t the officer covering up the murders… was the lady from the… the one they kicked out of….” Your sentence trailing off as you relaxed into the pillow beneath you.
You don’t know how long it’s been, but you feel John slip into bed behind you. You stir slightly, rolling over to face him. You bury your face into the junction of his shoulder. A content sigh escapes you as you fall into the stillness of sleep fully, once more.
It’s the gentle feeling of a hand rubbing circles into your back that wakes you. Sunlight streaming between the window and the curtain.
“Morning sleepy girl,” John greets. “How’d you sleep?
You stretch, enjoying the way your muscles loosen at the motion. “Really good. When’d you get in?”
“About an hour after you fell asleep on the phone.”
You press a kiss to his jaw. “Sorry. I tried to stay up.”
“Don’t apologize for sleeping. It was cute. I like hearing you breathe, it’s reassuring.”
“You didn’t hang up?”
“Why would I?”
You pull back and stare at him, raising an eyebrow.
John tightens his hold around your waist and rolls the two of you over, propping himself over you. “So what if you fell asleep. I like listening to you. Hearing about your day, the sound of you in the other room, the steadiness of your breathing. It lets me know you’re alright.”
He leans down and peppers your face in kisses. You weakly try to push him away, laughing as he keeps leaning in.
“Happy anniversary,” you giggle. “I know we agreed not to buy gifts, but I got you a surprise.”
“Now I don’t feel so bad for your surprise either.” John rests his forehead against yours.
You swat his shoulder. “You made me promise I wasn’t buying you anything. Which, technically, I didn’t buy you anything. I just paid Mrs. Hopkins to ship them–” You begin rambling.
John pulls back, brows furrowed. “Baby, what did you do?”
“When we visited Georgia, I might have reached out to your high school and requested copies of the pictures and videos you and Lemar were in. I also kind of got Mrs. Hopkins to help me by sending copies of the letters and pictures the two of you had sent while deployed.”
“I don’t deserve you,” John weakly confides.
You hold his face carefully between your hands. “I think you do. That’s why I’m here. A year ago, I chose you. And I have never regretted that decision. Just like I will keep choosing you, no matter how much you keep worrying that one day this’ll all be too much. Because that could never happen.”
John shifts to the side, sitting beside you. You tentatively sit up, moving closer to him. He holds your hand, staring down at the touch.
“I know I’m not perfect,” he admits. “I’ve never claimed to be, but you’ve always treated me like I was. You know how majorly I’ve fucked up. Somehow, you managed to accept my actions,” he shifts to hold your gaze. “You’ve also seen the ways I’m trying to do better. To be better. I lashed out after Latvia. When Olivia divorced me and I lost custody, I spiraled harder. You became my comfort. You helped me without even realizing it.”
You wipe the tears that had begun to fall.
“I don’t see myself ever getting married again,” John chokes out, “for fear of myself. But I also don’t see anyone else being part of my life the way you are. You’re it for me, baby. I promise you, one day I will become deserving of you. I won’t make the same mistakes over again. I plan on being in your life for as long as you’ll have me. ”
John slides one of his hands away from yours. He grips the bottom of his shirt, fluidly pulling it off. Your eyes land on dark ink contrasted against the skin of his chest. Over his heart, in what you recognize as your own writing, is your name.
“You’ve marked my very being with your love. I thought it was fitting to show just how thoroughly I’m yours.” John’s cheeks are flushed.
You hover your hand over the reddened skin of his chest. John loosely guides your touch closer, settling your hand just below the fresh tattoo. A new wave of tears floods your eyes.
“I can’t believe you got my name tattooed on yourself.” You admit.
“You’re part of me,” he says simply. “I wouldn’t be where I am now without you.”
Your eyes trace the tattoo again. “You’re part of me too. And I don’t need a ring or a tattoo for you to show me how you feel. I just need you.”
John cups the back of your head, pulling you in. The kiss is unhurried, his touch sweet against you.
“I didn’t have an assignment,” John murmurs against your lips. “There was an opening for me to get it done yesterday, and I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed for your claim on me to be as obvious on the outside as it is on the inside.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you give a fond shake of your head.
He pulls you closer, sliding his hands up the back of your shirt. You wrap yourself around him, letting him lay the two of you back down. You gently trace the area around your name, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your fingertips. The warmth you feel toward him is overwhelming, unable to express just how much you love him.
Author's Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.
summary : It was supposed to be a simple mission. No back up needed. A few days of surveillance, gather the intel, head back to the tower. The discovery of the information given to being wrong leads to a long day of violence and combat. When you come home early from the mission, John rushes back from his own just to make sure you’re really safe.
Exhaustion clung to your limbs as you reached the helicarrier, finally able to work your back to the Watchtower after a mission. It was supposed to be three days of surveillance, but the intel you’d been working off of was wrong. Instead of silently slipping along the perimeter of a bunker to gather further intel on what weapons were being stored there, you arrived the day that guards were changing the pattern of their rounds. The southern gate entrance was meant to be the least guarded at such a late hour, but as you finished climbing the wall and finally vaulted over the edge there were five barrels aimed at you. The sound of gunfire had more guards rushing to your location, and there wasn’t much time for you to regain control of the mission and continue the intended stealth operation.
The intended three days of surveillance and stealth had turned into a day of grueling combat as you managed to work your way to the control room of the bunker. Having barricaded yourself in the room, you hacked directly into the servers and began to download all the data Val had sent you to collect.
As the files were being transferred, you directed your comms line to Bucky’s private channel. “Bucky, you there?”
There was a brief static before, "Receiving you loud and clear. What’s wrong?” His voice crackled over the line.
There was no repressing the strain in your voice, “The mission failed successfully.” As you spoke, the download beeped once to alert it was complete. “I’m working on an exfil now.”
“What do you need?” There was an edge of concern to Bucky’s words now.
You slid the hard drive into the bag strapped against your thigh. With a deep breath, you braced for the reality of the yelling on the other side of the door. “Just make sure the pilot is ready for take off,” you begin to input the command that will unlock the door of the control room. “And have a medic on standby for arrival.”
When you stumbled onto the landing pad of the tower, you were relieved that it was just Bucky. He quickly wrapped an arm around your waist to steady you, and the two of you began the walk toward the medical bay.
“Careful,” Bucky warned as the doors slid open and the toe of your boot caught on the floor. “Don’t need you falling and making any injuries worse.”
You tried to wave off his concern, but before you could there was a doctor guiding the two of you to an exam table. Bucky guided you gently toward the table. He began to turn away when you grabbed his wrist.
You unzipped the bag on your leg and grabbed the hard drive. “This is all the data they had,” you press the metal device into his hand.
Bucky gave a nod as he took the device. Taking a step back toward the exit, he let out a sigh. “Walker’s on his way back.”
You winced as the doctor slowly peeled away the bandages you’d applied to staunch the bleeding. “You called him back?”
Bucky raised his hands with a sheepish expression, “I didn’t call him back. He checked in from the nearest safehouse he could find.”
The glare you were giving him faltered as the doctor began to remove the gauze you’d packed a bullet wound with.
“I might have mentioned you were on the way back from your mission already,” Bucky continued, “and when I couldn’t answer his questions as to why, he decided he was going to immediately work his way back here from North Carolina instead of waiting until morning.”
“Great,” you sighed. “How long until he’s back?”
Bucky grabbed a tablet from the wall, “Looking at his current movements, he should be back in about six hours?”
With your injuries stitched and bandaged, you slowly trudged your way to the elevator. Your limbs felt heavy as you swiped your keycard before pressing the button to your floor. As the elevator smoothly glides upward, you pull out your phone and type a quick “Home safe. Be careful” and send it to John. Grateful everyone was away on various missions, you didn’t try too hard at being quiet as you used the wall for support to your living quarters.
Opening the door, you left the lights off as you worked your way to the bathroom. You turned the shower on as hot as you could, letting the steam fill the room while toeing off your boots. Being mindful of your injuries, you carefully stripped off your gear letting it all pile on the floor next to the counter.
Letting the hot water run over your hair, you tried to keep the majority of the water off of your stitches and bandages. Efficiently washing the remaining debris and grime from yourself, you tried to savor how the warm spray eased some of the ache out of your body. Far too soon, your muscles trembled again with effort to keep you standing. Turning off the water, you gently pat yourself dry before making your way back into the bedroom. Walking to the closet you grab one of John’s sweatshirts and pull it over your head, allowing the oversized article of clothing to envelop your frame loosely. At the dresser, you grab a pair of sleep shorts and tug them up over your hips before curling onto the bed.
You try to sleep, but your mind races too much for anything other than tossing and turning to find you. With a huff, you grab your phone. A glance at the lockscreen shows it’s just after midnight. John hasn’t replied to your message, but he should be back in a few more hours. With a sigh, you grab your laptop out of the nightstand and begin writing the mission report.
As you read over your report one last time, the bedroom door opens. John walks in, duffel bag on his shoulder and beret tucked into the waistline of his pants.
“Hey,” he quietly greets. “You’re awake.”
You save the report and close your laptop, “I couldn’t sleep.”
John places his duffel at the foot of the bed, walking around to your side. He takes the closed laptop and places it out of your reach, then settles beside you. You reach your arms out, waiting for him to hug you.
John’s arms settle around you, lightly pulling you closer. With a sigh, you bury your face in the crook of his neck. His cheek presses against the crown of your head. The silence is warm compared to the buzz of thoughts racing through your mind.
“I’m glad you’re home,” you whisper into him.
His lips press into your hair, and he stays there. “I’m glad you’re safe.”
“I messaged you I was.”
His grip on you tightens, “I know, but I had to see for myself.”
“You could’ve waited until morning,” you protest.
Pulling far enough away to make eye contact with you, John cups your face. “No, I couldn’t. I was worried, and Bucky couldn’t answer any of my questions. I didn’t even think, sweetheart. I just got on my bike and raced here as fast as I could.”
“But your mission—” you start.
“Was done,” he interrupted. “And yours was supposed to be halfway done.”
You turned your head slightly. “’M sorry,” you mumbled into his hold. Your hand reached up to loosely hold his wrist as you kissed his palm.
“Don’t be, baby. I just wanna know what happened.”
“I had bad intel,” you shrug. “Guard’s had their routes changed. Stealth went out the window as soon as I climbed over the perimeter, so I did what I had to for the intel.”
John’s gaze sweeps over your face. Moves slowly down over your body as if he could focus hard enough to see your injuries through the sweatshirt you had on. “Bucky said you’d requested a medic to be ready.”
“I’m fine,” you promised.
John leveled you with an unconvinced look.
“Really, I barely lost any blood,” you tried to convince him. “I just needed some stitches and a bullet removed. Everything else was superficial.”
John motioned to the hem of your — his — sweatshirt. “Can I please just take a look?”
With a bite of your lip, you nod. His fingers slip under the hem, barely ghosting across your skin as he gently lifts the fabric to reveal your torso. The skin peeking out of the stitches on your right side was still red. Bruises had begun to bloom across your skin, his fingers hovering over them. There was gauze taped against the few cuts you’d taken. You looked away as his hand slid down your side, thumb coming to rest below your stitches, small circles being rubbed into your side. The sweatshirt covers you once again, John gently tugging it down.
“I should’ve been there,” he murmurs.
“This wasn’t your fault,” you firmly state. “None of this could even remotely be considered your fault.”
“If I was there—”
“You were on a solo mission, just like I was. We had our orders. This isn’t a ‘what if’ situation. I’m safe and home. Just like you are right now.”
You watch closely as John’s shoulders relax ever so slightly.
“You were shot, though. And they had to remove the bullet. If it had taken too long—” he worried.
“It didn’t take too long though,” you reassure him. “It couldn’t even damage anything. No appendix there to hit, so it was simply removal and stitches.”
John rests his head against your shoulder. “This is not the time to tell me you don’t have an appendix.”
You thread your fingers through the short hairs at the back of his head, “I’m fine. If something serious had happened, I would’ve called you immediately. Or told someone to call you.”
“Everything is serious when it comes to you,” John admits. “That’s why I raced here; I’ve got the tickets to prove it.”
“John,” you try to lift his head but he doesn’t budge. “How fast were you—”
“Shhhh,” he lifts his head to press a kiss to your lips. “I just needed to see that you were safe. That’s all that mattered.”
He kissed you again, hand pulling away from where it rested on his hip. You pulled away from the kiss, mind foggy and eyes focused on him. His forehead rested against yours while you took deep breaths.
“I’m going to change,” John pecked you once more, “then I’m crawling into bed beside you,” his lips met your cheek this time, “and you’re going to fall asleep in my arms,” his nose dragged along your jaw. “How does that sound?”
Dazed, you blink and nod. John stands and goes to his dresser. You watch as he undoes his laces, setting his boots against the wall. Soon, he’s pulling off his jacket, setting his beret and belt atop the dresser, and unbuttoning his pants. As he pulls the white A-shirt over his head, his hair ruffles out of its usual brushed styling. He grabs a white T-shirt and pulls it smoothly over himself before pulling off his pants and discarding them, leaving him in his boxers.
As he climbs under the covers, you scooch yourself closer to him. Once he’s settled, you tuck yourself into his side, resting your ear over his heart while he drapes an arm across your shoulders. Your legs tangle together, and his warmth chases away the cold that lingered in your bones from the events of today.
“I love you, sweetheart,” John kisses the top of your head. “Sleep well.”
“I love you, too,” you kiss over his heart.
Author's Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.
So, a lot of people are moving to other platforms than Tumblr. So, I thought if anyone that follows me or enjoys coming across my account decided to leave this platform I should share my AO3. I have most of my fics from AO3 on this site, as well as all my fics from this site on my AO3. You won't be missing out on any content from here if you follow my AO3.
summary : Your job with the team is to go over files that are collected when the team clears out Hydra bases. You are the only person with authorization to go through the files containing any details to do with the former Winter Soldier, your best friend Bucky. Going about your job as usual, you’re reading through the stack of files the team retrieved from the most recent Hydra base that discuss Bucky. Reading the graphic details of a punishment that happened before a mission, that would go similarly had your heart breaking for the strong man you’ve grown close to. Needing to walk away, you sit outside and look out over the city. Bucky joins you outside, where you admit what you read. Opening up to you, Bucky discusses how that was the first time that particular punishment happened, and how it’s the main reason he doesn’t like touch. During an impassioned speech to reassure him, you admit just how deep your feelings for him go. His next actions reveal just how much he reciprocates your feelings, and the two of you set up your first date.
pairings : Bucky Barnes x Reader
warnings : 18+ only. Triggering topics will be found in this work below the text break. Mentions and recounts of rape. Physical assault. Haphephobia (fear of touch). General angst. Comfort. Confessions. Getting together. Happy ending. Female pronouns used. Dialogue heavy.
word count : 7,971
AO3 (x)
a/n : This idea stemmed from a friend and I talking about Bucky, and wondering just what horrors he went through that wouldn’t normally be talked about. And then this idea that he was sent out on missions where he was essentially pimped out. It spiraled from there, and I wanted to write this since the back and forth I had with a friend.
Again, this content will be very triggering for some readers. It gets very dark. Your mental health is more important than reading this fanfiction. Please take care of yourself, and if that means not reading this then don’t read it.
You stretched in your office chair, stiff but determined to get through as many files today as possible. Looking at the stacks of files, you reached for the nearest one. Opening the top folder, you read over an inventoried list of supplies. The next folder was dated a few months later than the prior folder, but was another inventory list. Comparing the two, you could see a significant increase in storage of supplies. Logging into the secured server, you scanned in the two folders. You were able to calculate just how large an increase it was, as well as how many agents it could sustain. You worked your way through the stack, adding each assessed file to the trend. The hours slipped by as you meticulously compared each folder, calculating how many agents there could have been there. Coming to the last file, it was dated just two months before the team cleared it out. From the amount of supplies the base kept inventoried, you were able to estimate there had been just under two hundred agents there before the paper trail ended. You saved your findings, and sent it off to Fury to review. If the base had that many people, where did they all go? It was deserted just last week when the team cleared it out. You hoped by trying to figure out how many agents used to be there, Fury and the team could eventually figure out just how many Hydra agents there were still. And even better, where they all went.
Grabbing the next stack of folders you began reading. It was mission logs, detailing everything. From the first mention of the assignment, the planning, all the way up to the mission report. You went to a separate part of the secured server, and began getting the documents scanned in. As they slowly uploaded, you began the process of reading the writing. Some of it was so faded they took even longer to transcribe into the system. The large stack filled the entirety of your evening, leading into the late hours of the night. You had to make sure every detail was typed into the system, comparing it to the actual file. You yawned as you saved your work, rubbing your eyes before looking at the clock. Realizing it’s nearly midnight already, you look at the file stacks around you. You see a very short stack, maybe five files high. You grab them, deciding you can finish this stack before heading to your room to sleep.
As soon as you open the folder, you’re met with the grainy image of Bucky. You tilt your head, skimming over the initial information. Your eyes catch on the year 1952, giving you a start to the timeline events you’re about to read. You sign into the locked folder on the server that contains all the information on Bucky’s time under Hydra’s control. You add a new folder for the base, trying to mentally prepare for what you may learn. You input the date, noting down the initial information on Bucky since his last cryostasis log at the time. Turning to the next page, your stomach plummets and your heart beats a little faster.
Winter Soldier correctional log, you read. Failure to perform at required success expectations during training. Following this failure, ordered to not resist punishment. The Winter Soldier did not react to the hit that followed the command, ensuring he would be receptive to the punishment. Ordered three officers to punish the Winter Soldier as preparation for his upcoming mission. Observed as officers forced the Winter Soldier against the ground. Pinned against the ground, the Winter Soldier did not react. He was stripped as the officers removed their own clothing. The Soldier’s body thrashed but remained secured against the ground as the officers penetrated into him. As the initial officer punished the Winter Soldier the other two spoke of what they were going to do to him. Once the first officer found his involvement to be sufficient he disengaged from the Winter Soldier, promptly replaced by the second officer. The second officer was eager to punish the Soldier. During this officer’s treatment of him, the Winter Soldier became unconscious. Upon discovering this, the third officer began to beat him while the second remained steady in his aggressive treatment of the Soldier’s body. Eventually, the third officer joined the second officer in their punishment of the Winter Soldier. The simultaneous punishment caused the Soldier to jerk, once again becoming conscious. When the two officers finished with their punishment of the Winter Soldier, he was left on the ground. The Soldier’s body shook, still not resisting as I began to punish him myself. He was still perceptive of the punishment, doing nothing to resist my use of his body. Following my own punishment, the Winter Soldier’s body was severely bloodied and shaking. He was left there for his expedited healing to allow him to recover before tomorrow’s mission.
As you read over Pierce’s signature, you realized you were gasping between hiccuped sobs. You wiped your cheeks once again, shaking your head. You signed out of the secure server on your computer and locked the stack of files in your desk. As you exited your office, you made sure the door was locked as well before taking the elevator up to your floor. You kept wiping the freshly falling tears from your cheeks, keeping your hands balled into fists to control their shaking. As the elevator opened, you covered your mouth with a trembling hand, hoping to keep your cries silent. Swiftly, you walked down the hall toward your room. You couldn’t stop yourself from looking at the door across from yours, glad Bucky’s room didn’t have any light spilling from under the door. Entering your room, you toed off your shoes before changing into a pair of leggings and one of the hoodies you had stolen from Bucky. Having the fabric swallow your frame, quickly followed by the smell of Bucky enveloping you as well, gave you the ability to calm down slightly.
Your socked feet were silent as you entered the hallway once again, padding your way across the smooth surface into the common room. You looked between the couch and the balcony. If you stayed in the common room, you risked Bucky or Steve hearing you cry and coming to check on you. Moving toward the balcony, you think about what you read. The sting of tears quickly returns, and you close the door behind you. Overlooking the city, you let the tears fall freely. Not bothering to wipe away the wet tracks they leave, nor worrying about muffling your cries, you let all your emotions wash over you while staring out over the city.
You sat on the ground, legs stretched out in front of you while leaning against the couch that was on the balcony. You thought of Bucky, of all the things he’s been through that he didn’t deserve. How for so long he never had a choice in what his body did, constantly forgetting his memories just as they’d begin to resurface. Being forced to take so many lives, and now holding onto that guilt. The times he was put into cryostasis by Hydra, sometimes for months and other times for years. He had so many years taken away from him. The brutal training he’d been put through, along with so many punishments for the smallest mistakes. His body was littered in scars, some you’d learned came from missions while others were from the torture Hydra made him endure. He had been a prisoner within his own mind for so long.
When he was initially deprogrammed of Hydra’s brainwashing, you’d seen how lost he looked. Finally able to make his own choices again. He stayed out of the way for so long, just watching this world that was new to him. You remember when you first spoke to him, introducing yourself while holding your hand out, only for him to nod slightly and murmur his name in response. As the two of you became closer, you saw the way he always made sure to avoid being touched. That he stayed a few feet away from the team, only willing to train with Steve.
Sam had accidentally bumped him in a hallway one day as you were heading down it, and you watched as Bucky swiftly slammed him into a wall with his arm pulled back ready to punch whoever it had been. His body was tense, but you watched how his body slumped slightly as he stepped away from Sam, pressing himself against the other wall of the hallway. Just as you walked past the two, you overheard Bucky’s repeated apologies followed by Sam reassuring him that it was okay. You were in front of Bucky’s side of the hallway when you passed, and you noticed how he pressed himself further into the wall. Whenever you were nearby Bucky always made sure that there was plenty of room between you both.
It wasn’t until a few months of you slowly becoming friends with Bucky when he first nudged you. The two of you were sitting on the couch, almost a foot between the two of you. You were reading a book while he scrolled through movies on the TV. Suddenly you felt a warmth near you before his elbow gently pressed against your ribs, disappearing as unexpectedly as it’d appeared. You looked up, making eye contact with him. He gave you a small smile, gesturing to the TV to ask you a question about the movie he’d discovered. He was leaning now, the elbow he’d used to nudge you now supporting him in the gap that had closed between the two of you. You happily answered all his questions while still thinking about the fact that he just touched you. It wasn’t a secret that Bucky had been treated horribly by Hydra, so everyone understood that he never liked to be touched. But as much as he avoided being touched, he also rarely initiated a touch.
There were a few occasions, following the first time he nudged you in the ribs, that Bucky had initiated any sort of physical contact outside of training. You’d first seen some of them while training. The times he or Steve would be sprawled on their back against the training mats as the other loomed over, they would offer a hand up. Bucky never hesitated to grab Steve’s hand, the silent choice an easy one to make. When Bucky offered Steve a hand up, it was always his right hand. Easily pulling the other up. As time went on with this routine, Steve slowly began to clap Bucky on the shoulder. The first few times you watched it happen, Bucky elbowed Steve in the ribs roughly to get the younger man to let go. As Steve continued to clap Bucky’s shoulder, Bucky moved from elbowing Steve to only tensing up under the touch and allowing it to stay. Until one day, you saw Steve do it and Bucky didn’t react. Steve’s hand stayed on Bucky’s shoulder as they left the gym. He didn’t seem to be uncomfortable by the action, but you could tell that Steve was relieved his friend was no longer frightened by the action. It was common, now, for Steve to clap Bucky on the shoulder, or shove him away while laughing.
Slowly, Bucky got accustomed to Sam as well. On the rare occasions that Bucky let Steve convince him to have Sam train with them, Bucky only offered Sam his metal hand when he’d knock Sam to the floor. And once again, as time went on Sam would offer up a brief touch. But instead of taking the initiative like Steve had done, he’d just hold up a fist. The first time it happened, you had to hold in laughter as Bucky stared down at the fist with his head tilted in confusion. You watched as Steve explained it, pointing between Sam’s fist and Bucky’s hand, until Steve demonstrated that Sam merely wanted a fist bump. And every time, Sam gave Bucky the choice between doing the fist bump or not. Bucky always lifted his metal arm and pressed his metal fist against Sam’s own briefly before pulling away. It was obvious, the distance he held between himself and Sam compared to how he acted with Steve. Using his metal arm to pull sam up from the training mat, giving fistbumps with his metal arm.
But then there were the moments between you and Bucky. Moments that you cherished. These were moments where he initiated contact between the two of you, ever so slightly. He’d jokingly elbow you at times, much like the first time on the couch. A brief nudge to get your attention, wanting to have your attention. Sometimes it was because he wanted to ask you something, other times to tell you something, and on rare occasions just because he wanted you to show you something. It was these intentional touches that made you notice the seemingly unintentional touches. It became common for Bucky to be in the same room as you, so you never thought twice about him asking you to pass him something. Little things like a pen, the remote, a bottle of water, and other common objects. You’d hold out the item he’d asked for, he’d reach out for it with his right hand, and you’d feel the gentle brush of his fingers against yours. It could seem inconsequential, but knowing just how much he values his own space you realized it was intentional on his part. Each time he took the item with a quiet thanks, you thought you’d see the corners of his mouth tick up slightly. He always avoided using his metal arm with you, letting the warmth of his right hand brush against you in these cases.
Getting to know this man obliterated you. You’d originally just wanted to be welcoming to him, understanding how difficult it could be to get to know the team. He had the advantage of knowing Steve for so long, even if he hadn’t had all his memories back yet by the time he first joined. But the first few months of knowing him had been mostly quiet. Occasionally finding yourselves in the same room, and him choosing to stay in that room with you instead of leaving the way he did with so many of the others. It took one night of the two of you unable to sleep to actually talk. You’d been sitting in front of the window that overlooked the balcony of your floor of rooms for a few minutes, replaying the nightmare you’d just woken up from in your mind. You heard something move behind you, and when you looked Bucky was there. His face looked haunted. You patted the floor beside you, letting him know he was welcome to sit. It was silent for a few minutes, the two of you listening to the other’s breathing slowly relax.
Bucky cleared his throat, furrowed brows causing him to look conflicted about whatever he wanted to say. “Do they happen every night for you? The nightmares?”
You shrugged, not knowing what he wanted to hear, “For me it’s most nights. For Sam it’s rare, and Steve will have one every few months.”
Bucky nodded, his brow smoothing out. He let out a sigh as he turned to face the city.
“They’re usually memories. Sometimes the person changes, but they’re always memories,” you whisper what your nightmares contain. Your chest feels less constricted as you admit this.
Bucky’s shoulders sag, “They’re usually memories.” He confirms.
You hated that he understood your nightmares so well, but you felt better knowing you weren’t the only one. That it was something you’d already survived, yet you never knew at what cost that survival would hurt. Out of the corner of your eye, you’d seen Bucky turn so he was facing you again.
His face was open, one of the few times you didn’t see the lines of a scowl ghosting over his features. “Do you want to talk about it?”
You turned to face him, a weak smile pulling your cheeks upward. “I’ll show my scars if you show yours,” you joked.
The laugh that escaped him both surprised and captivated you. It was that laugh, that glimpse at what he was really like, that caused your feelings for him to shift. From that feeling of wanting his friendship, to this consuming feeling of affection. You now wanted to be closer to him than just the friendship you’d hoped would come to be. A warmth settled into your ribs, making your heart beat quicker, as you realized you would do anything for this man.
“I think that’s only fair,” he promises you.
That was the night the two of you began your friendship. He opened up to you after you told him about how you failed a mission, causing more casualties by getting injured than if you’d been more aware of your attackers surrounding you. He recounted to you one of the times he was being strapped into the chair they used to shock his memories into oblivion. That night, you decided he was now your best friend. You’d hoped that calling him your best friend would cover up some of the reason you’d become so attached at the hip. Not wanting to reveal that you’d suddenly found yourself with feelings for Bucky that you knew wouldn’t be returned, you settled for the next best option. You decided it’d be enough to just have him as a friend.
As the two of you began to build up your friendship, you acknowledged the realization you’d had that first night. Certainly it would be enough for you if he just continued to steal small touches when asking you about something, hanging out together in a comfortable silence, and opening up to each other late at night. Except the feeling never lessened, and every day you were more head over heels for this man than the last. And as long as he was willing to have you in his life, then you were right. His presence was enough.
The door behind you clicks open, but you don’t bother to face it, too lost in your own thoughts. Analyzing every time you and Bucky happened to touch. You felt extremely guilty. Everyone knew that he avoided physical contact, and yet you repeatedly felt the warmth of his hand gently pressing against you. The torture he went through was more than enough to understand why he made sure to avoid being touched, but what you just read? Him losing any choice in what he did with his body was horrible, but that day he lost that little amount of control he’d still had over what happened with his body.
“You’re drenched,” Bucky’s gruff voice broke you out of your tortured thoughts. “Why are you out in the rain?”
You look up at him, seeing the rain slowly dampen his shirt. “It wasn’t raining when I came out here,” you lamely explain.
Bucky stares down at you for a moment longer before sitting beside you. He keeps his usual distance between the two of you, and you think of all the reasons that could be. To have him beside you, just close enough to feel the warmth radiating off of him, and yet far enough away there’s no way you could accidentally brush against him.
“How long have you been out here?” He tentatively asks into the quiet night.
You shrug, “The last time I remember seeing was one o’clock when I left my office.”
Bucky nods while shifting how he’s sat. He leans back so his arms are supporting him, and his legs shift just enough for you to feel his calf against yours. You tense slightly at the touch, feeling guilty about the contact that now exists between the two of you. You adjust how you’re seated, drawing your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them before resting your head against your forearms to look at Bucky. You watch as his brow furrows, the way it has the rain trailing down his face to change its path.
“It’s almost three,” Bucky’s gaze flits between your eyes. “What’s wrong?”
You shake your head, trying to brush off his question. “I was just working– and there were so many files. I was typing for hours, and–” You suddenly find yourself choked up on the lie you were ready to tell him. That you hadn’t accidentally just invaded his privacy so severely that he’d no longer want you to handle his files.
Bucky reaches out and gently holds your hand, runs his thumb across your knuckles. “Easy, deep breaths,” he guides you. “A busy day at work, no reason to cry, yeah?” He tries to comfort you.
You let out a wet laugh, wishing this were merely one of your breakdowns from a stressful day of work. You shake your head, using your free hand to wipe the tears from your cheeks only to feel them replaced by the rain. You watch as Bucky bites the inside of his cheek. The look in his eye tells you he wants to ask you more questions, but at the same time he’s giving you time to calm down.
“I, uh,” you wet your lips. “I was going through files, and typing out what was in them. And I wanted to get as much done today as possible. So, when I was tired, I saw a small stack of folders. I thought they’d be quick, that I’d finish one last stack and then go to bed. But, the files,” you look up to avoid his eyes, “they were some of yours.”
Bucky’s thumb falters slightly in its path across your knuckles, “Oh.”
You nod, hating the knowledge you now have. You gently pull your hand from his hold to wrap your arms tightly around yourself. As though hugging yourself would keep you from falling apart again.
Bucky’s face looks pained as he finally asks the question you’ve dreaded answering. “What did it say?”
Closing your eyes, you let the words spill past your lips, “It was back in fifty-two. You’d apparently been at the base that was just cleared out. They’d had a mission for you, one different from the others from what I can guess,” your voice broke. “Pierce wrote a disciplinary report for the Winter Soldier. During a training session, something happened. Whatever they were hoping for you to achieve while training didn’t, and as punishment Pierce had some officers assist him in disciplining as preparation for the assignment.” You opened your eyes to look at Bucky as you spat the word used to describe what they did to him.
Bucky was still as he listened to you. He held your gaze as you spoke, keeping his face as neutral as possible. You saw his sadness take over his gaze as he understood the file you read upset you because of him being punished. “It was what they did, tried to make me comply so that–”
“It was different,” you interrupted his attempt at reassuring you as you closed your eyes. You couldn’t bear to see how he’d react to what you now knew. “Pierce wrote how he commanded you not to retaliate. He made sure you were complacent. Then, he had other officers punish you, and they forced you to the ground. Pierce detailed the way they…used…your body,” you shuddered. “He was detached in the way he described what happened, yet at the same time it was clear he enjoyed what he’d witnessed.”
Bucky’s hand gently cupped your cheek, the touch startling you. You couldn’t help the way you leaned into his soft touch.
“You passed out at one point,” you whispered. “They kept going. One of them beat you while you were unconscious before joining the other officer in the way you were being punished. Pierce wrote that having two of them on you at once caused your body to jerk, and then you were awake. Once they were done, your body was shaking. Pierce decided then was when he would get involved, and once he stopped you were bloodied and shaking. You were left in the room, exposed on the floor, to have your enhancements heal you before the mission the next day. One that I think was similar to what Pierce put you through that night,” you choked out past the lump in your throat as you finished revealing everything you knew.
Bucky’s hand pulled away from you, and you sobbed at the loss of his touch.
“I’m so sorry,” you brokenly admitted. “You didn’t deserve that. The horrors that they put you through, you didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry, so, so sorry. I had no idea Bucky, and then I just found out. That wasn’t something you should have no choice in telling someone, and I swear I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. It was an accident–”
Your words get caught in your throat as you feel the ground disappear beneath you. There’s a strong hold around you, a steady swaying motion, as you open your eyes to find Bucky carrying you back into the tower. He carries you straight into his room, walking past his bed, and sits you on the counter of his bathroom. He pulls out a towel and wraps the plush material around you.
“Look at me,” he gruffly demands.
Using the corner of the towel to wipe away your falling tears, you look up to meet his piercing blue eyes.
He settles between your knees, bracing his hands on either side of your legs to level his gaze with yours. “That was not your fault. I trust you to know everything I went through. You’re the only one I trust to go through every one of those files. You’re the only one I demanded Fury give access to those files. When they get sorted, if the first page reveals me, the file gets closed and sent to your office, okay? That’s the protocol I demanded be put in place. If any file so much as mentions me, then it’s getting sent to you for review.”
You nod weakly, “Okay.”
“I remember everything that has happened in those files. I may have no idea what they decided to put into a file, but I remember everything they did. So you don’t have to worry about invading my privacy, or learning about what I’ve been through. You could never invade my privacy. I did everything possible to ensure that you were the only one that could learn anything about me without having to ask,” Bucky hands move to cup your cheeks, “because I want you to know me. Every broken, damaged, and healing part of me. I want you to know it. I trust you to know it.”
“You aren’t broken. Or damaged.”
Bucky rests his head against your shoulder with a bitter laugh.
You raise your hand slightly, “Can I touch you?”
Bucky nods against your shoulder. You thread your fingers through his hair, gently scratching. His body shudders beside you, and you reach out tentatively to cup the warm hand he has against your cheek. You thread your fingers between his and guide his hand to your lips. You press a lingering kiss to his palm.
“That was the first time it happened,” Bucky murmurs against your collar bone. “The first mission they chose for the Winter Soldier that wasn’t an assassination. The first time they decided to sell my body.”
You frown, “The first?”
“Those missions only happened a few times over all the years.”
You bite back the tears that try to overcome you again. “You didn’t deserve any of it. None of the things they did were okay. Nothing you could ever do would justify what they did to you. What they forced you to do.”
“That’s another reason I made sure you were the only person with access to my files,” Bucky leans back to look at you softly. “Because I knew you would never judge me for any of it. Not for the missions, the punishments, the experiments they ran. You’ve never stopped looking at me the way you did when we first met despite everything you’ve learned.”
“Of course not,” you promised. “Because that wasn’t you that went on the missions. You were being controlled by horrible people who didn’t see you as anything other than a tool they could use. In reality you’re a person that has choices. Choices that were ripped away from you for years. You’re the sweetest man I know. You care so much about everyone else, that it’s impossible not to care about you. To worry about you when you’re out on missions. You’re the only person that I fully trust in everything. I want to learn everything about you, all the good that’s happened to you and all the bad. Because no matter what, I have always loved you and always will no matter what those files say. Because that’s what you deserve, is someone who trusts in you, heart and soul, no matter what has happened and will happen. I will always trust you, and want to learn everything you’re willing to share. Okay?”
Bucky looks dazed as you finish your passionate speech. You shake slightly from the rush of emotions overwhelming you. Slowly, his cheeks redden as his eyes flicker between your own. You don’t back down from his gaze, willing him to believe every word you just said.
“You love me?” Bucky whispers.
Your eyes widen, the words you just told him catching up to you. With squared shoulders and an even gaze you repeat, “Heart and soul.”
Bucky’s shoulders sag further, “Can I hug you?”
You wrap your arms around him, quickly being engulfed by him. “You never have to ask to touch me. In any way. I trust you, all of you.”
“You never have to ask either.”
The two of you stay there in silence. Your ear pressed against his chest while you were wrapped firmly in his arms. His nose stays pressed against your hair. Slowly, water drips off of Bucky and onto the tiled floor. You shiver slightly at the coldness that has seeped into your bones. Bucky’s hold on you tightens at the feeling.
“Let me grab you a change of clothes,” Bucky whispers against your hair.
The loss of his hold makes the cold air around you rush back. You shiver in earnest at the chill of the bathroom. Despite being able to dry off the excess water that had soaked you from the rain, you were still damp. Your clothes stuck uncomfortably against your skin, and you moved the towel to your hair. As you finally get your hair dried, Bucky returns with a stack of neatly folded clothes.
“Thank you,” you smile up at him, taking the clothes from his hold.
Bucky gives a polite nod before he steps out of the bathroom, once again leaving you in the chill of the room. You pull off your clothes, putting them in a wet pile inside the bathtub. You lifted the first item Bucky had on the stack, and as it fell open you realized it was his maroon henley. You pulled the shirt over yourself, and enjoyed the way you were nearly drowning in it. The hem stopped just above your knees, and the sleeves fell well past your fingertips. Unfolding the second item, you saw they were some black sweatpants. As you tie them securely over your hips, you realize you don’t think you’ve ever seen Bucky wear them. Pulling on the socks he’d brought you, you sighed in relief for the reprieve from the cold.
“Are you decent?” You called out.
You heard Bucky’s muffled laugh before he called out, “I’m clothed, you can come out.”
You opened the bathroom door and stepped into his bedroom. Bucky was propped against the headboard of his bed, and a lamp was on causing the room to be filled with a warm glow. Bucky had on his own pair of black sweatpants and a white a-shirt. You walked toward the bed, and sat down on the edge, making sure to leave the usual space between the two of you. You chew the inside of your cheek, thinking over everything Bucky told you.
“What’s wrong?” Bucky frowns.
You lace your hands together, “Nothing’s wrong. I was just thinking about some of the stuff you said, and I was debating how to ask you about it.”
“Whatever you want to know I’ll answer,” Bucky gently prompted.
“Okay,” you take a deep breath and try to think of how to phrase your questions. “You chose me to handle your files?”
“Obviously Fury has access to whatever is in them as well, but you’re the only agent other than me. Tony was furious and demanded the team have access, but Steve supported my choice. He managed to convince Fury that it should be up to me who gets to access my files,” Bucky explains. “This really only became an argument after we cleared out the first Hydra base. Steve noticed there were files on me, and he set up a meeting with Fury and me after Tony found out Hydra had files on me. I told Fury that I had no issues with S.H.I.E.L.D owning the files, but that I wanted some guarantee of privacy of my past. I explained I was willing to give full access to the files to him as the director, but that I didn’t want just anyone to be able to read everything. You’d been the most understanding and welcoming to me at that point, so I chose you. Every file was to be sent to you to be added to the database, Fury would be able to see them from there, and I was able to check my memories matched what was reported.”
“I don't get why you didn't give access to Steve?”
Bucky shrugged, “I’m not the only one who feels guilt over that period of my life. Steve fought to go back along where the tracks were on the ground. It was Peggy and Howard that had told him there was no way I’d be able to survive a fall at that speed. They explained it was very unlikely to find my body from the amount of snow that I would have fallen into and would have covered me. None of us knew at that point that Zola had already injected me with his version of the serum, or that it was successful. I didn’t change the way Steve did. So, Steve thinks he should have fought harder to search for me.”
Your shoulders slump, “Oh.”
Bucky nods, understanding exactly how you feel. “Steve shouldn’t feel responsible for it, but he does. He knows about the missions I was sent on, but I don’t want him to know about exactly what happened to me. I made him aware that I was trained and they shocked my memories into nothingness regularly, but that’s all he knows.”
“You said that wasn’t the only mission they…” You trailed off, not wanting to say what they assigned him to do.
“That was the first,” Bucky nodded. “That was also the only time they decided to punish me like that, but they still prepared me for those missions. Those weren’t brutal like the first time was. Total, there were seven of those missions. Ultimately, it was established clients of Hydra that were aware of the Winter Soldier and what I had been capable of. These individuals wanted to feel a sense of power over the Winter Soldier in a way beyond commanding me to kill someone. After the first mission like that, it was only the highest ranked clients of Hydra that were able to pay for me to bend to their desires,” Bucky swallowed.
“What happened to them?” You whispered.
Bucky looked away from you, down to where his hands lay in his lap. “I killed them. At one point, Hydra decided these clients held too much power over certain missions. One of these clients would want a different client to be killed, and that target wanted another client to be killed. To handle this, Hydra accepted the contracts and took the payment. But the assignment of the Winter Soldier was to kill the top clients of Hydra.”
“When were you assigned to assassinate these clients?”
“It was seventy-eight. I didn’t complete that assignment until seventy-nine, though. There was talk about clients paying for the Winter Soldier to hunt down some of the other clients. When the first was assassinated, the others went into hiding. I was to hunt them undetected until they were all eliminated.”
“You were active for a full year?” You were surprised.
Bucky nodded.
“What about your memories in all that time?”
“They started to come back sometimes. I was to return to Pierce every month as a progress report. These reports were when Hydra would provide the beginning of recent paper trails from my targets. It was usually at these times, as well, that my memories had started to return. I would ask something, questioning why I was searching for these people, or why I remembered something but couldn’t place its meaning. I’d be strapped down, they’d shove something into my mouth so I wouldn’t break my jaw, and then the electricity fried my brain.”
You shuddered at the memories you held of recordings Hydra kept of wiping Bucky’s memories. “How did they know how to get your memories to disappear?”
“Shock therapy was popular back in the forties. It was a treatment they believed made patients happier and more willing to accept treatments. At first, Zola was hoping it would make me more susceptible to brainwashing. What they didn’t expect was that my body couldn’t heal that damage at the rate it did combat injuries. Where a bullet wound would heal in a day with a faint scar that would sometimes be gone the next day, my body could take months to heal the damage shock therapy caused. When active, my body healed the damage faster than in cryostasis. The usual temporary memory loss lasted longer for me because it took my body so long to heal from how long they would shock me.”
You sat in silence for a moment, your eyes watering at that information, “Would it be okay if I hugged you?”
Bucky opened his arms to you. “I told you, you never have to ask to touch me,” he tenderly said.
You shifted onto your knees and moved toward his open arms. You allowed yourself to fall into his hold, reassured by the solid arms that wrapped around you. You reminded yourself that he was fine now, nobody could get him. He was safe from everything. You buried your face into the safety of Bucky’s shoulder, not trying to keep your tears from falling. As you cried, Bucky held you tight and quietly reassured you that he was fine. As his hand began to rub slowly across your back, your tears slowed and your sniffles quieted into hiccups.
“I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I should be stronger about this by now.”
Bucky pulled away from you, wiping your tears away once more. He shook his head gently before he opened and closed his mouth. “I think it’s a good thing,” Bucky started off, “it goes to show how much you care. I don’t like that I seem to be the cause of so much of what upsets you, but I appreciate how much you care about me. And I am so lucky to have you care about me.”
You couldn’t deny the wobble in your smile as you looked up at him, “I like caring about you.”
Bucky’s body shook beneath you as he laughed, “I like you caring about me too.”
You jokingly shoved his shoulder while trying to push your way out of his hold. He didn’t budge against your struggles, but you felt him loosen his grip on your waist. His arms fell away slightly, giving you plenty of space to wiggle out from the hug he’d been keeping you in. You kept up your dramatic struggle, but made sure not to pull away from him. As the two of your laughter calmed down, you stopped your struggle. Your body relaxed against Bucky, fully melting against his relaxed form. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to catch your breath, each puff of air making your chest bump against Bucky’s.
“Why do you let me touch you?” You wonder aloud.
Bucky tilts his head, “What?”
“You let me touch you,” you point out, “and you’ve told me twice now that I don’t need to ask. Why?”
Bucky shrugs, “I feel safe with you. I don’t fear that something bad will happen to me when I’m around you. With you, it’s different. I don’t have the sudden flash of fear whenever you’re close to me the way I do with other people.”
“Not even with Steve?” You ask gently.
Bucky shakes his head with a sigh. “He’s my best friend, and I trust him to always do what’s right. Before the war, he was very different. He’s the same on the inside, but now he holds so much responsibility. I know he would never want to do anything to hurt me, but there’s always going to be a risk with me. The trigger words don’t work any more, but I’m afraid that one day something might happen. I could get severe head trauma, or somehow my wires get crossed up there. And I’m going to have to rely on Steve to handle the Winter Soldier and do the right thing. I’ve told him this, Steve knows my concerns, and he knows I expect him not to hold back.”
You reach out and pull his metal hand into your lap, wrapping both hands around his.
Bucky takes a deep breath, “I can’t risk something like that. I can’t risk becoming him again. Especially not when it comes to you. I trust you fully, and I feel things so strongly toward you that it scares me sometimes, yet you’ve never been afraid of me.”
You lifted his metal hand up to cup your cheek, keeping your hand against his. “You don’t have to worry about anything with me. I fully trust you, and I believe you would never hurt me. Even if something happened to cause the Winter Soldier to return, you wouldn’t hurt me. I know you sometimes struggle to trust yourself, so let me trust you for the both of us,” you turn your head to press a kiss into his palm.
Bucky smiles down at you, “I don’t know how you’ve managed to do it, but you make me feel whole in a way I never thought would be possible again. You erase every bad thing that has ever happened to me and every bad thing I’ve ever done. I ache when it comes to you. I want to feel your touch in any way I can and that terrifies me. Selfishly I started bumping your shoulder, brushing past you in the kitchen, letting my hand brush against yours. I did anything I could to feel your soft touch, and it was so relieving compared to how I’ve felt about being touched for so long. I fight to stay awake until you go to bed, just so I can know you’re safe. You’ve been a breath of fresh air for me in so many ways; I stopped caring about how I was supposed to act with you. I haven’t felt this way since before the train. I didn’t think I was capable of these feelings anymore,” Bucky quietly admits.
“I was scared when I realized my feelings for you,” you quietly admit. “It was that first night, where I made that stupid joke about revealing my scars to you. I was so sleep deprived that those words just slipped out, and you laughed. It sounded so carefree, and happy, and loud. You tilted your head back, and for once you were actually smiling. It was like I got to see you for the first time instead of this person that had been hurting for so long. A glimpse at what you would’ve been like if we’d met in the forties,” you smile up at Bucky. “I was captivated by you. In that instant, I was gone. But we hadn’t really talked before then, and I figured you’d always keep me at arms length. I figured it’d be enough just to have you as my best friend, and I decided I’d be content with whatever you were willing to consider me so I could have you in my life.”
Bucky leaned in close to you, his breath fanning across your face. “I have been head over heels in love with you since the day you introduced yourself to me. You held your hand out to me, and I just nodded with a mumbled greeting. Without missing a beat you gave this small wave and carried on talking like I was a normal person. You were the only one who hadn’t faltered at my weariness while treating me like everyone else. Something inside me clicked like I was finally somewhere I could call home. All because you didn’t treat me like some scared animal that needed comforting. Steve noticed immediately, and when you walked away he gave me this knowing smile. I tried to deny it but it was obvious I was lying. Anytime you were in the same room as me, I was drawn to you. I’d keep finding myself looking for you when I entered a room, or coming to stand near you.”
Your eyes dropped from his and landed on his lips. He was so close that you’d just barely need to lean forward to feel his lips against yours. You looked back up to Bucky’s gaze, and he just barely nodded. You felt him pull you closer as you leaned in to kiss him. When your lips met his, it felt like something in you clicked into place. Bucky kissed you back gently, the kiss remaining sweet and lingering. Slowly, you pulled away to breath and Bucky rested his forehead against yours.
“I have no idea how I managed to keep myself from doing this sooner,” Bucky groaned.
You breathed a laugh, “I have no idea how I convinced myself I’d ever be okay being only your friend.”
Bucky laughed at your words, nodding with a smile. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, and you rolled off his lap. You cozied up into his side, fingers laced with his metal ones while his warm hand traced lazy shapes into your side. Bucky rests his head atop yours. Your emotions no longer felt like they were running wild, a calmness had settled over the two of you.
“I want to treat this right,” Bucky says into your hair. “I want to take you out, and ask you to be my girl. Treat you the way you deserve.”
“I’ve always been your Bucky,” you lightly tease. “But I would like to experience that ‘Barnes charm’ Steve always teases you about.”
“You’ll get the whole nine yards, doll. We can go out to dinner, I can show you the Brooklyn I remember, kiss you goodnight. I’ll give you the full treatment,” the smile was obvious in Bucky’s voice. “Whatcha say?”
You hummed, “I say that Friday at seven works.”
Author's Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.
Hi! This isn't an ask, just popping by to say I love your work. Can't wait to see what you write next! Everything you've posted is amazing, and the way you explore your ideas within your writing is the best. Keep up the amazing work!!
This is so nice! Thank you! I've got a couple of wips I'm working on, and they're kind of long so it's taking time. The general thoughts so far are: a series, one that's fairly dark, and one that's trying something new. I'm really glad you like the works!
Don't Split the Party? How about No Man Left Behind? [steddie]
summary : With Eddie situated across Steve’s shoulders, the climb out of the Upside Down began. Steve managed to climb up far enough to feel the pull of gravity shift, and held on so he and Eddie were hanging from the ceiling. He slowly climbed down, collapsing to his knees after his feet touched the mattress. Quickly putting Eddie onto the couch again, it wasn’t long until Robin landed on the mattress with a surprised gasp escaping her. Nancy immediately began to pull the make-shift rope through the gate when there was a knock at the door.
Steve, Nancy, Robin, and Dustin all looked between each other, then at the unconscious Eddie on the couch. When there was another knock on the door, Nancy decided she was the one to open the door. From where he stood, Steve could see a sleek, black, government vehicle across the road at Max’s house.
pairings : Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson
warnings : depictions of violence (series accurate injuries), language - if I missed any please let me know
word count : 4,683
AO3 (x)
a/n : I posted this on AO3 back in June of 2022. Thinking about it, I realized I can post the content from my AO3 to my Tumblr the way I cross-post my Tumblr ones to AO3. So, here we go.
Vecna was defeated. Their plan worked; Steve, Nancy, and Robin defeated Vecna while he was in Max’s mind. Now all they had to do was meet up with Dustin and Eddie, then leave the Upside Down. Making their way back to the Munson’s trailer, they heard Dustin shouting for help. Steve was the first one to run in the direction of Dustin’s yells. Once close, Steve saw Dustin holding a figure in his lap. Steve slid next to Dustin, looking Eddie over. Eddie was covered in injuries from the demobats that he and Dustin were distracting.
“Nancy, come here! Robin, get through the gate and be ready to help get Eddie through,” Steve called out to the others.
Steve ripped off his jacket and took off his shirt, tearing it into strips to tie around Eddie’s injuries. Nancy finally made it over to where Steve and Eddie were, scared by what she saw. Steve could tell by the look on her face, she wasn’t sure that Eddie would make it.
“Nancy, I need you to carry him by the legs while I carry him by the torso. Dustin, you need to keep pressure on his injuries to keep him from bleeding out any more, okay?” Steve asked the boy nicer than he had Nancy.
“Okay,” Dustin's voice cracked through the confirmation.
“On the count of three, we lift him. Once we’re at his trailer, we’re putting him on the couch,” Steve directed. “Ready? One, two, three!”
Steve and Nancy carried Eddie all the way back to his trailer, Dustin limping alongside them. They were only slightly reassured when Eddie would occasionally groan out in pain, knowing they hadn’t lost him yet. When they finally reached the trailer and got Eddie put on the couch, the four now faced a new problem; how to get Eddie out?
“Nancy, can you look for bandages? He’s already starting to bleed through,” Steve asked. “Dustin, I need you to look for alcohol. Mainly vodka, and whiskey if you can’t find vodka.”
While the others were looking for the things Steve asked them to, he tried to help Robin tie a new rope for the gate.
“We’ll save him,” Robin blurts suddenly. “We can save him, Steve.”
“How do you know that?” Steve’s voice shook worse than his hands. “We can get him out, but then what? I don’t know what to do, Rob.”
Robin placed her hand on his shoulder, “We’ll figure something out. First, we’re going to get him out of here. Then, we’re going to figure out a way to get him to the hospital. But we need you to get him out of here, okay?”
Steve wiped his eyes and nodded. He needed to get Eddie out of here, so that is what he was going to do.
Dustin and Nancy walked in quietly, passing Steve the things he’d asked for. Robin pulled Nancy towards the gate, and Dustin sat next to Eddie’s head. Keeping his hands as steady as he could, Steve removed the strips he put over Eddie’s wounds. The bleeding had slowed some, but there were so many wounds that it didn’t seem to matter. With a quiet apology, Steve poured the vodka onto Eddie’s hip and side wounds. Eddie immediately shouted in pain, and tried to sit up.
“Keep him as still as you can, Henderson,” Steve instructed.
With the wounds now cleaner, Steve began to wrap Eddie’s hip and sides with some of the bandage rolls Nancy found. Steve began to remove the soiled bandage from where Eddie’s shoulder met his neck, finding the wound to have stopped bleeding entirely. Steve cautiously poured vodka over the wound, repeating silent apologies as he taped down gauze to the wound.
Steve had left the worst wound for last. He hated how much pain the others had caused Eddie, but this one was going to be the worst. With how soaked through the make-shift bandage was, there was no way it had stopped bleeding. Looking where the bite on his leg was, there was no doubt that the bite hadn’t missed an artery. Steve removed his belt, and tightened it just above where Eddie was clearly still bleeding out, hoping that reducing the circulation to the cut would buy Eddie more time.
“Is he still awake Henderson?” Steve cautiously asked.
“He passed out after you bandaged his shoulder,” Dustin responded. “I can still feel his pulse, though.”
“Good.” Steve felt relieved that Eddie probably wouldn’t react to what he had to do.
Steve uncovered the wound on Eddie’s leg, seeing that it was not going to stop its steady bleeding anytime soon. Steve poured the last of the vodka on the wound, feeling even more guilt when Eddie still flinched in his unconscious state. He piled gauze onto Eddie’s thigh, then secured the final bandage roll around his leg.
“Steve,” Robin called. “Nancy went through, she has the mattress set up.”
“Alright,” Steve called back, “Dustin, go though. We’ll be right behind you.”
As Robin helped Dustin limp his way over to the gate, Steve looked Eddie over. Other than where the demobats had ripped flesh from bone, his leather jacket was shredded and Steve could see that Eddie was covered in superficial cuts along his arms. The fresh bandages were definitely more secure than what Steve had originally tied around the wounds. Steve gently pressed the inside of Eddie’s wrist, and felt a faint pulse.
“Alright, your turn Steve,” Robin bumped her shoulder with Steve’s. “Tell me what to do.”
“I have an idea, but I need you to make sure he doesn’t fall,” Steve started. “While I climb out, I need you to stand on a chair next to us and keep him steady.”
“On it.”
“I’m sorry, Eds.” Steve whispered as he hoisted the metalhead across his shoulders.
With Eddie situated across Steve’s shoulders, the climb out of the Upside Down began. Steve managed to climb up far enough to feel the pull of gravity shift, and held on so he and Eddie were hanging from the ceiling. He slowly climbed down, collapsing to his knees after his feet touched the mattress. Quickly putting Eddie onto the couch again, it wasn’t long until Robin landed on the mattress with a surprised gasp escaping her. Nancy immediately began to pull the make-shift rope through the gate when there was a knock at the door.
Steve, Nancy, Robin, and Dustin all looked between each other, then at the unconscious Eddie on the couch. When there was another knock on the door, Nancy decided she was the one to open the door. From where he stood, Steve could see a sleek, black, government vehicle across the road at Max’s house.
“Hi,” Nancy greeted in a chipper tone.
“Are you friends with Max Mayfield?” A woman in a black suit asked, displaying her badge to Nancy. “We were sent to check on her and her friends by Doctor Owens and the girl.”
“Yes,” the woman asked. “This must have been the first gate,” she continued as she saw the ceiling. The woman pushed her way through the door, and saw the state all five of them were in. There was no doubt they had just returned from the Upside Down.
“I suggest you come with us,” the woman spoke. “We can get your friend there medical attention with some doctors that know about these events, and you four can inform us of what caused all this.”
Steve waited anxiously in the hallway for news of Eddie. Nancy had taken Dustin to get his ankle checked. Somehow, Steve managed enough composure to convince Robin to go home and wash the Upside Down away then sleep with the promise that he’d call with any news he received. Having sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair for the past hour, Nancy finally walked up to him.
“Where’s Henderson?” Steve’s voice sounded empty, even to his own ears.
“His mom just picked him up. He had a clean break in his ankle, and they got him in a cast. I stayed until his mom came. She wanted me to thank you for bringing him here,” Nancy leaned against his side. “How are you holding up?”
Steve shrugged. He didn’t care how he was, Eddie was here because of him. Steve couldn’t help but think that if he was there, then maybe Eddie wouldn’t have gone off by himself. All he wanted now was to know something about how Eddie was.
“You should get your side checked,” Nancy prompted him. “I’ll wait here, find you once the doctors come out.”
“I’m fine,” Steve croaked out past the bruising on his throat.
“Steve, you need stitches. And the sooner they’re taken care of, the sooner you can come back here.”
“I’m not leaving him Nancy,” Steve’s voice shook. “After what we’ve all been through, I’m not leaving him alone again. I can’t leave him.”
“That’s fine,” Nancy rubbed Steve’s shoulder. “What if I got someone to come here and check them instead?”
Steve, once again, shrugged his blatant indifference as his gaze stayed locked on the doors Eddie had been rushed through. He was glad the doctors knew the truth and would be able to properly treat Eddie. He was also relieved that they were rushed to an abandoned wing of the hospital so Eddie wouldn’t be harassed by people who thought he was a murdered. He blankly registered when Nancy left, then when she came back with a nurse. He finally tore his eyes away from the doors when Nancy placed her hand lightly on his shoulder again.
“You need to take off your jack and bandages so they can be checked,” Nancy softly explained.
Steve removed his jacket with ease, but when he unwound the bandages from his torso the bites felt like they were on fire. When the last layer was removed he felt the way they’d clung to his exposed flesh, and he only clenched his jaw harder at the pain. The nurse was quiet as she inspected his bites, checking if there was any debris inside of the wounds. Steve distantly recalled seeing her with the team of doctors the government women had gotten to check Eddie’s injuries.
Once Steve saw the bottle of disinfectant he knew his bites were about to burn worse. He set his jaw and tried to relax, once the disinfectant was poured over his wounds he only let his body tense up in reaction. He was determined not to cry out in pain, not when Eddie had been through so much worse. Once his bites were cleaned, his eyes focused on the doors once again and ignored the tugging sensation as he was sewn back together. Once the tugging in his side stopped, Nancy motioned for him to lift his arms, and a new bandage was wrapped around his torso. The nurse turned to Nancy, telling her what needed to be done for his wounds to stay clean and heal how they needed to. Nancy thanked the nurse on behalf of Steve and sat down next to him as they continued to wait.
“You don’t have to wait with me,” Steve quietly says. “I know you haven’t seen your parents and sister since this all started, and you probably want to check on them.”
“But what about you? Steve, you’re covered in stuff from the Upside Down, and all you have is a jacket,” Nancy points out. “You need to change and wash all this stuff off.”
After five minutes of not responding Steve suddenly suggests, “What if you grabbed some things for me? I can write it down, it won’t be much I promise.”
“Fine, what do you need?”
Steve scribbled down the few things he needed and where to find them, but also wrote down a few extra things for Eddie from his trailer.
“Could you also stop by Eddie’s and grab him these few things, please?” Steve passed his small list to Nancy.
Nancy glanced over the list and nodded, and Steve passed his keys to her with a small, grateful smile.
He waited for another hour until a doctor stepped out of the doors. Steve stood and strode over, listening intently to what the doctor was explaining. Eddie’s wounds had been stitched like his, but with how much blood loss Eddie suffered his heart had stopped twice. The doctor explained how the bite on Eddie’s leg and neck had both been to an artery, and these had been the cause of Eddie’s heart stopping. They had managed to restart his heart each time, but they had attached more machines to him in case it would stop again. They also did a blood transfusion due to how much he had bled out, but Eddie would recover. Steve felt himself sag in relief at the news Eddie would recover. The doctor told Steve where Eddie’s room was, but that he’d yet to awaken and wouldn’t for some time. Steve nodded his thanks and began the walk to Eddie’s room.
Steve slowly pushed open the door, revealing a sleeping Eddie covered in bandages and hooked up to machines. Steve quietly closed the door behind him, hoping he didn’t accidentally disturb Eddie’s sleep. Steve set the small duffel bag Nancy filled with the things Steve asked for on the floor at the foot of the hospital bed. He pulled out the blanket he’d asked for and covered Eddie in the warmer material, knowing the chill of the hospital was surrounding them. He also pulled out the sweatpants and t-shirt he’d been packed and walked across the room to the small bathroom in the room. Peeling off his muddied jeans and shrugging his jacket away, Steve stood in front of the mirror to see how injured he was. He had a thin cut surrounding his neck from the demobat, bruising around the cut from the vine he had been choked by, as well as many small cuts and bruises scattering his body. The worst of it was whenever he moved, he felt his stitches being lightly tugged from under the bandages.
Wanting to be rid of the Upside Down he turns on the sink to begin scrubbing away the layers of dirt, sweat, and blood. Accepting that he can’t get rid of it completely, Steve slowly dresses into the clothes he’d brought in the bathroom. On his way out the bathroom Steve leaves the light on in the bathroom and lets just a sliver flood into the hospital room. He finally settles into the chair next to Eddie’s bed and is prepared not to leave until Eddie tells him to.
It had been two days, and Eddie still hadn’t so much as stirred in his sleep. Steve used the walkie Nancy thought to pack to update the others on Eddie’s condition as soon as it was morning on the first day. Steve kept an eye on Eddie while the others were staying with their families. The government women said they would inform Eddie’s uncle of his condition and location once their cover-up was made official to the public and his name was cleared, but that it would take almost a week to do so.
Throughout the days, Steve would sit next to Eddie’s still form. Either Nancy or Robin would stop by and inform him of what was happening to the town, or bring him food that he couldn’t bring himself to eat. Whenever he couldn’t take the silence being filled by only the beeping of machines, Steve would read The Fellowship of the Ring to Eddie. Steve wasn’t surprised Nancy found the books from Eddie’s trailer, but he was glad she’s also grabbed The Hobbit. He was surprised that he’d managed to read all of The Hobbit during the first day of Eddie’s recovery, and began The Fellowship of the Ring earlier in the morning.
There were footsteps outside the room, but Steve didn’t worry. The only people who came to this wing were Robin and Nancy, and it was usually when one of them would check on the two in the hospital. What Steve hadn’t expected, however, was for Hopper to walk through the door followed by Joyce.
“Hey kid,” Hopper said as he stepped into the room. “How ya holding up?”
“Hopper?” Steve set down the book. “How are you–What?”
“It’s a long story,” Joyce said as she hugged Steve. “We were told we’d find you here. That you haven’t left since escaping the Upside Down, and that you would explain what happened.”
After recounting what had happened during spring break, Steve wouldn’t stop apologizing for it all.
“It’s not your fault,” Hopper reassured. “You protected them, and you all saved the town.”
“But–” Steve began.
“Stop apologizing. You did nothing wrong. You couldn’t have prevented any of this from happening,” Joyce comforted. “But, we do have some good news.”
“We got in touch with the government people that doctor Owens sent,” Hopper elaborates. “We got all of the stories set up and they’re being released today. Eddie didn’t commit the murders, turns out it was Jason and he was planting it all to look like it was Eddie. Then, Jason went on his own personal man-hunt against Eddie, so that’s why Eddie ran. Eddie didn’t run because he was guilty, but while he was hiding from Jason he was attacked by a bear and was taken to the hospital for treatment. Nobody’s seen Jason since last night, so he must have ran. At least, the police think that Jason ran since they found his car at the bus station.
“As for me, I’ll be reinstated as police chief. It won’t be the first time someone in this town came back from the dead, so it’s a much simpler cover-up. And El closed all three gates after she left Max’s mind. With Vecna dead and any gates that existed being closed, we believe that the Upside Down is gone for good. Will doesn’t sense anything from the Mind Flayer since his return to Hawkins, so it confirms things are finally over.”
“Will’s back? So is everyone from California here, then?” Steve asks.
“Yeah, everyone’s back and safe.”
Steve felt his body release the tension it’s been holding for a week. Everything was going to be fine. The kids were safe, the Upside Down is gone, and the only two adults who knew what was happening have returned. Things were beginning to look up as Steve glanced at Eddie’s sleeping form. He just had to be patient and tell Eddie all the good news when he finally wakes up.
“If you need anything let us know,” Joyce said. “All the kids have a walkie with them and I’m sure one of us will be with them. Try to get some rest.”
“Yes ma’am. Thank you both, for everything you’ve done,” Steve called out as they left.
Steve settled into the chair as comfortably as he could manage and continued reading to Eddie. He was surprised to find himself also enjoying The Lord of the Rings so far, and hopes Eddie can somehow hear him.
It wasn’t until their third night in the hospital that Eddie finally stirred in his sleep. It was slight, but Steve felt the fingers he held twitch. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to pull Steve from his state of falling asleep as hope filled his chest. Not wanting Eddie to wake up while Steve slept, he grabbed The Two Towers and continued to read aloud.
“Don't leave me here alone! It's your Sam calling.” Steve read.
“Don't go where I can't follow! Wake up, Mr. Frodo!” Another voice rasped out.
“Eddie!” Steve gasped as the book fell from his hands.
Eddie gave a small smile at Steve’s reaction. Steve was on his feet in an instant, grabbing the button that called the nurse to notify them Eddie was awake. Eddie sat up and immediately winced at the pain. Steve gently guided Eddie back, his hand lingering on the other’s shoulder.
“Mister Munson,” a nurse greets. “Glad to see you’re awake. How are you feeling?”
“Like something ate me,” Eddie croaks.
“Well,” the nurse looks over the machines attached to Eddie, “all your vitals are stable, we’ve just been waiting for you to wake up. You should be released soon.”
“Thank you,” Eddie called out as she left.
Steve sat in the small chair once again and took Eddie’s hand in his. Flooded with the relief that Eddie was finally awake, he couldn’t hold back the tears that were silently escaping his eyes. The two sat in silence until a sniffle gave away his crying.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie took in Steve’s red-rimmed eyes and quivering lip.
“Why did you do it? You were meant to escape with Dustin! Not risk yourself with a suicide mission! You promised you wouldn’t try to be a hero!” Steve broke. “Dustin told us what happened. You could’ve followed him out, so why didn’t you?”
“I needed to buy you more time and keep them from following him through the gate. I didn’t know– I didn’t plan on them getting me. I was running away, but then I fell. They surrounded me before I could get back up, then they got me,” Eddie ran his free hand across Steve’s cheek.
“I’m so sorry, I should have been there. I should’ve protected you better, but I thought you were going to be safest there. It’s my fault you're here.”
Eddie opened his mouth to tell Steve how wrong he was, but before he could Eddie’s uncle burst through the door. “Thank God, Eddie!” Wayne exclaimed. “I came as soon as I heard the news you were here.”
“Uncle Wayne?”
“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Steve grabbed the walkie on his way to the hallway.
Steve felt guilty for leaving the hospital once Eddie’s uncle Wayne arrived. Not knowing where to go, Steve just walked and decided to let his feet decide for him. He wandered around town until he found himself outside the Munson’s trailer. The gate had been closed by El, but he knew the government was going to move the two out “for their troubles” as Hopper had put it. Steve stared at the trailer, haunted by the last time he was here. He was so certain he wasn’t going to be able to save Eddie, but now he was across town with his uncle. Steve couldn’t help the ache that shot through his chest.
There was no way Eddie was going to want anything to do with him anymore. He was so glad Eddie had his uncle there for him, that the kids had each other, Nancy had Jonathan, and Robin would have Eddie, too. Steve knew he would be there for them, but he also knew they didn’t need him. With one last look at the Munson’s trailer, Steve started his slow walk across town to go to his own house.
Steve opened the door to his empty house. He didn’t bother turning on any of the lights as he made his way up the stairs to his room. He turned on his lamps and collapsed onto the bed. He finally let everything he’d been bottling up crash over him. His body shook with each sob that forced its way out his throat. He cried until long after the sun was below the horizon, and stayed awake long after he had no more tears left. He stared at his ceiling as hiccups and trembling breaths were all that he could produce.
It was hours after he’d finally calmed down that he heard it. The static of his walkie as someone pressed their button.
“Steve?” The faint voice of Eddie crackled through the speaker. “Are you there? Over.”
“I’m here,” Steve radioed back. “What do you need? Over.”
“You didn’t come back. Over.”
Steve didn’t respond. He couldn’t with the guilt that was weighing down on his heart.
“I never got a chance to tell you that you’re wrong.”
Steve still didn’t have the will to respond.
“Me getting hurt wasn’t your fault. Neither was anything that has happened. Please believe that. If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t be alive right now. You saved my ass. And you’re right, I should have listened to you and went through with Dustin. But that’s my fault, not yours, okay?”
Steve pressed the button to respond, but didn’t know what to say. With another small sob, Steve released the button hoping the walkie didn’t capture the sound he made.
“Steve, everything’s okay. Please just say something,” Eddie stressed the last sentence.
“I’m sorry, Eds. Over and out.” Steve released the button for a final time.
“Wait don–” Eddie’s sentence was cut off by Steve pushing the antenna into his walkie.
Reality finally broke into Steve’s moping when he heard a loud knock at his door. Startled, he looked out his window to see it was still clearly night. There was another loud knock, so Steve forced himself to go downstairs. Flinging open the door prepared to tell whoever it was to go away, his words caught in his throat at the sight of Eddie on his doorstep.
“Hi,” Eddie breathed with a soft smile on his face.
“What are you doing here?” Steve guided Eddie to his couch. “Why aren’t you still at the hospital?”
“I was released just after you said you were going to give Wayne and I space to talk. That’s why Wayne was there.”
“Oh.”
“Max also said you were standing outside the trailer earlier.”
“Eddie,” Steve said the other’s name, the softest Eddie had ever heard it uttered.
“Just talk to me. Please, let me be here for you.”
“Okay.”
Steve explained everything to Eddie during the early hours of the morning, confessing that he wasn't just worried over his friend but was worried over his crush, and when dawn began to seep in through the windows the two fell asleep wrapped around each other.
When Steve slowly woke up, he was aware of how cozy he felt. He buried his face further into his pillow. It wasn’t until he felt a hand come up to gently card through his hair that he remembered the events of last night and realized his pillow was Eddie.
“Hi,” Steve breathed against Eddie’s chest.
“Morning sleepy,” Eddie fondly responded. “How’d you sleep?”
“Great. How’re you feeling?”
“Better than yesterday.”
“Thank you for listening to me, and sorry I was acting so stupid because of it.”
“Don’t apologize, I understand. It’s scary when someone you care about is being torn apart by demonic bats,” Eddie kissed the top of Steve’s head.
“It’s even scarier when you don’t know if you can save them,” Steve kissed just over where he felt Eddie’s heart steadily beating.
Steve untangled himself from Eddie and stretched the best he could. He padded over towards the kitchen to cook the two of them some eggs. He felt Eddie’s arms snake around him as he dumped their eggs on their plates.
“Eat so you can take your pain killers,” Steve reminded.
“But–” Eddie started.
“Nope. No buts. If you don’t take them now before they really start hurting, then it’s going to be worse later. So eat,” Steve insisted.
“Fine,” Eddie dragged out, “you’re lucky I love you.”
“I really am.”
“You know, you’re the one that spilled his guts. I only had my guts spilled.”
“Seriously?”
Steve rolled his eyes as Eddie just planted a kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth, “Sorry.”
“No you aren’t,” Steve fully kissed Eddie’s mouth.
The two sat together over breakfast talking. Eddie talked about how grateful he was for Dustin dragging Steve into his life, and Steve talked about how relieved he was that Eddie was still alive. The two of them didn’t know what their future held, but one thing was certain. It was their future, not Steve’s and Eddie’s futures. There was no way one of them was letting the other slip away.
Author's Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.
Hey bestie! I just wanted to say that I love your work and the way you write Steve Harrington. Idk if you have something like this yet, but could you write something where both reader and Steve are super busy, always on opposite schedules. They are both getting kind of sick of it/sad about it until Steve does something to surprise reader :)
I hope you have a lovely day and that your writers block goes away :)
More Certain than Ever [s.h]
summary : This past month you haven’t had any time with your boyfriend. You were both used to being busy, but this was different. Finally no longer able to take it anymore, you quit your job. When Steve hears about it, he decides to ask you a serious question sooner than he planned to.
pairings : Steve Harrington x Reader
warnings : None, just tooth rotting domestic fluff. Reader uses she/her pronouns. No use of Y/N. Dialogue heavy. Kind of dual POV. (if I missed anything let me know!)
word count : 2,095
AO3 (x)
a/n : Thank you so much for the request! I rewrote this like three times and edited it twice, so that’s why it took a week to post.
This past month was horrible. Your manager at the movie theater had fired the girl you were usually scheduled with, so now your shifts were twice as long. Used to, you had a six hour shift early in the morning. Halfway through your shift was when Jennifer would clock in for the start of the afternoon. You'd get off at two while she worked the slow half of the evening alone. Now, however, you were handling your usual shift as well as Jennifer's all alone. Busy working from eight to eight five days a week, you were overwhelmed. You were doing too much for one person to handle at work, beyond tired when you came home, and missing your boyfriend.
Usually you'd go to Family Video when you got off work to visit Steve on his lunch break. His schedule was less consistent than yours, but the two of you always found a way to have time to see each other. Except now that Jennifer is gone, the two of you were struggling to spend time together. Even your days off weren't lining up. When you weren't working, you were busy cleaning your apartment, trying to catch up on both chores and sleep. You were upset that you never had time to be with Steve. The two of you were trying to find ways around your conflicting schedules.
Once home, you'd eat something simple that required minimal effort before showering. Just as you finish getting into bed, the phone you'd moved into your room would ring. You'd quickly answer, mumbling a happy greeting before being overcome by a yawn. You and Steve would talk for a bit, with you mainly managing to stay awake for twenty minutes listening to Steve's voice telling you about his day at work. Managing to say a quiet 'love you’ before fully falling asleep was an accomplishment. Come morning, you'd hear Steve's steady breaths coming down the line as your alarm was beeping. You'd wish him a good day before returning your receiver to its cradle.
Feeling just as tired as when you went to bed, you got ready for work and left for your shift. You were hating how this job had begun to make you feel. It was the start of a new week. A week to be filled with twelve hour days, an hour both to and from the theater, two hours to try and relax at home, and a restless night's sleep before repeating everything the next day? It was crushing you. You felt like if one more thing happened, you'd simply fall apart.
"You're here!” Your manager exclaimed. "I need to talk to you.”
You gave your best customer-service smile, "Sure thing, what do you need?”
“Well, I need to adjust your hours.”
You raised your brows, surprised by what you just heard. "Okay?”
"Perfect! So for a few days you'll be coming in at six, and you'll also need to stay until ten so that I–”
"No.” You bluntly interrupt while reaching for your name tag.
Your manager’s friendly demeanor instantly faded away. "No?”
“No,” you hand her your name tag. "I quit.”
"You can't quit. I'll accept a two weeks, but–”
"That's not necessary. I quit,” you turn on your heel and walk out.
Hearing your manager shouting the start of many different sentences after you was satisfying. Walking through the doors, knowing you’d never return as anything other than a customer, was satisfying. You were excited and unsure about what to do now that you finally had some time to yourself again. With a smile, you began heading toward Family Video.
The bell rang as you opened the door, Robin’s hair popping up above a shelf of movies as she stood, greeting you. You walked toward her, excited to see your friend.
“Hi,” you said as you turned the corner of the aisle.
“I thought you had to work, what are you doing here?” She exclaimed while pulling you into a tight hug.
Your excited laughter slipped out, “I sort of did something, and now I’m no longer working at the movies.”
“What happened?” Robin gasped, pulling you to sit behind the counter with her.
You explained what happened this morning while she began the process of rewinding tapes. The more you spoke, the more Robin commented about how ridiculous your old manager was. You knew the way you were being treated at the movies since Jennifer was fired wasn’t great, but you didn’t realize just how bad things had gotten until you were explaining it.
“With how long I’ve been working twice as many hours I have some time before I absolutely need to be hired. I’ll be able to apply to some jobs while being able to actually wait to hear back,” you thought aloud. “I also just paid my rent for the month, so I don’t have to worry about that either right now.”
"Oh!” Robin quickly stood. "Keith just put a sign up, we're hiring! You could work here!”
“You think? I feel like I should mention it to Steve at least.”
Robin grabbed your shoulders and shook you slightly, “He would love it! He's been so mopey this entire month. He misses you, and he hated how overworked you've been. We'll both tell Keith how good a worker you are, and that you literally quit working at the movies. There's no way you wouldn't get it!” She rambled excitedly.
"Okay,” you put a hand up. "I'll fill out an application, and I can bring it up to Steve later today.”
Robin clapped, grabbing the clipboard of application forms.
Steve tripped over his own feet while rushing out his house. He slammed the car door closed, cringing at how rough he was being on his baby. He had to ignore the awful feeling slamming the door caused as he was late to his shift. He was pushing the speed limit his entire drive to Family Video, prepared to apologize profusely to Robin. Only slightly haphazard in his parking, Steve shrugged on his vest while entering.
"I'm sorry,” he says while heading to the back to clock in. "My alarm clock died.”
Robin waved away his concern, "It's fine.”
"Like it's plugged in, but not on–wait. What do you mean it's fine?”
"I mean it's fine. Quiet morning, your girlfriend came in looking for you, she filled out an application, she left after a while, and the tape rewinder broke again.”
Steve stood still, trying to process everything Robin just said. "She came by? Is she okay? What happened?”
Guiding Steve to sit down, Robin rubbed his shoulder, "She's fine. Everything's alright. She quit the theater, and I suggested she apply here. She's going to talk to you about it, not wanting to step on your toes. I got her to apply anyway, then we hung out for like twenty minutes. She said she was going to head home and ‘sleep until there's no more movies.’”
"She always hated working there,” Steve mumbled.
"Yeah?”
Nodding, a soft smile creeps up. "She's not a fan of most new movies. And she hates popcorn. But she liked seeing how excited people would get after watching a movie.”
"She's a good one," Robin nudges his side.
Steve nodded, thinking. He was getting off early today. He could go see you after so much of your lives not lining up the way it used to.
Steve patted his pockets, making sure he had everything before grabbing the brown bag from the back seat. He took the stairs up to your apartment two at a time. Biting his lip, he knocked on your door. He heard a banging noise before your muffled shout that you were coming. His heart melted as the door opened, revealing a sleepy sight. Your hair was messier than you ever let him see, his sweatshirt was engulfing your frame, and your sleep shorts barely peeked out from the bottom of the sweatshirt. The surprise on your face made him chuckle as a wave of pink slowly flooded your cheeks.
“I brought lunch,” Steve says in a daze, focused on your sleepy appearance.
You grabbed his hand, pulling him into your apartment. You set the bag on the coffee table before hugging him. Feeling your arms around him pulled Steve from his stupor. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, gently swaying you both side to side.
“I've missed you,” Steve whispers.
“I missed you, too. How are you?” You pull back slightly to look at him closer. “You seem tired.”
“So do you,” Steve counters.
He watches as you nod, gesturing to the couch. “I couldn’t be bothered to walk all the way to bed after double checking I locked the door.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” he admits. “I’d try but it just wasn't happening. So I listened to your breaths. Eventually it would allow me to sleep, knowing you were right there and safe. But my alarm didn't go off today, so I was late. Robin told me how I had just missed you once I finally clocked in.”
You walked to the couch, pulling Steve to sit beside you. He tugged you into his side, leaning back against the couch. You curled into him with a hum.
“I quit today,” you state. “Finally.”
Steve nods, “So I hear. And you applied at Family Video. What happened?”
Your shrug feels stiff against Steve's side. “I just walked in, hadn't even clocked in yet, when I was being told I was getting more hours. I was sick of it, and I just quit. I didn't even let her say anything after that really. She tried to tell me I couldn't quit, that it was for a few days, but I was done. Last time something was for a few days put me at twice my hours for the month. So I walked out as she tried to make it be my two weeks.”
Steve squeezes you tighter against his side. “I’m proud you quit. I've been worried about you.”
“I know, and I'm sorry. And I applied at Family Video when I came to see you, but it was just Robin and she talked me into it. I mean, I like the idea of us working together but don't want to be too much.”
“You could never be too much. In fact,” Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, “I have an idea.” He places the box into your lap. “I know it's only been six months, and this past one has only been tired phone calls, but I want you to move in with me. I was going crazy without seeing you this entire month, and I think Robin’s tired of me complaining about how much I miss you.”
“Yes,” you kiss him. “I would love to live with you.”
Steve held you close, kissing you passionately. When you pulled away for air a yawn escaped. Steve stood, holding a hand out to help you up.
“C'mon, I think we need to finish that nap,” Steve smiled.
You weakly protest as he pulls you up. "But the food, and we need to figure everything out, then there's–”
“Absolutely nothing that can't wait,” Steve promised while guiding you to bed. "We can eat when we wake up. We can share my room, or you can choose a room. Your lease here has been month-to-month since your original twelve-month agreement came to term. And I would love to work with you, you're more qualified than I am. Plus, Robin really wants you there too.”
You lay down, facing Steve. Your eyes scan his face intensely, trying to find any doubt. He looks sure. You think about how miserable you've been the past month. Knowing Steve felt much the same was reassuring. You'd never felt as comfortable nor certain about anything or anyone the way you do with Steve.
"Are you sure?” You timidly ask.
Steve cups your cheeks, holding your gaze. “I've never been more certain about anything.”
"Same here," you admit. "It's a plan. Sounds like you've thought about everything.”
Steve's cheeks flushed, “I was going to ask in a few months, but this past month made me want to ask you sooner. I was going to wait until you were off Friday, but then today happened. And it seemed perfect.”
You smiled, knowing how deeply Steve feels. “What else have you thought about?”
"Well…”
You and Steve fell asleep to plans of the future and many promises each of you wanted to fulfill together.
Author's Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.
Hiii! I just saw your repost, where you said you're going through writers block, and I want to request an mcu headcanons about
Tony Stark / Bucky Barnes / and Loki Laufeyson (all seperate) X a gn reader who gets extra clingy when they're sleepy/tired!
Have a good night!
This is so cute! Thank you for the request, it was super fun to write.
How Marvel Men Would React to: You Being Clingy When Tired
feat. Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes, and Loki Laufeyson
AO3 (x)
Tony Stark
He hates how little sleep you get, but he also loves how accepting of his affection you are.
Tony hates when you don't get enough sleep. He's no example of a healthy sleep schedule, but you're just barely doing better than he is. It's obvious when it happens. You rub your eyes harshly throughout the day, words seem to escape your thoughts when explaining your latest idea, and you become clumsy.
When well rested you enjoy Tony's company. Always greeting each other with kisses, spending most of the day together, but still managing to do your own things. But when you're tired, you crave his presence. You'll slip in front of him when he tinkers and wrap your arms around him. You'll settle into his space and he'll continue working. It isn't an uncommon sight for you to be straddling his lap, face against his shoulder, while he sits in an office chair.
Right now Tony wants nothing more than to scoop you up and carry you to bed, except he's in important meetings that have already been rescheduled four times.
He kisses you before going into his office to be ready for the video conferences. You pout as he crosses the hall.
Not wanting to go far away, you work on the project you've been thinking over. It's as you're writing down the last portion of your formula that your focus is gone. Frustration builds as you cross out more and more of what you'd just written. Slowly, the lack of sleep catches up to you. You were crashing, and any more coffee was a bad idea. Finally giving in you drop the pen. You unlocked your phone, squinting at the harsh brightness of the screen, and sent Tony a text. You didn't want to interrupt his meetings, but you also knew trying to fall asleep without him would be difficult.
Tony is relieved when the meetings go by faster than he was expecting them to. Once he disconnects from the last video conference, he goes across the hall to the workshop. Surprised by its emptiness, he grabs his phone to call you only to see your text. He smiles, rushing upstairs to the bedroom.
You're curled up in one of his sweatshirts while laying on his side of the bed, face squished against his pillow. He steps out of his shoes while crossing the room. You lift your head as soon as his steps ring through the room.
The moment he sits on the bed to lay down, you move to wrap your arms around his waist with a huff. Tony can't help the fond chuckle that escapes him. He'll pull your hands away for a moment, a quiet whine escaping you, before scooping you into his lap. He'll lay down, shifting you so that his chin is just above your head. His breaths cause you to be gently rocked. Your legs tangle together, and he makes a dramatic gasp when your cold toes press against his ankles.
"Not close enough,” you mumble against the column of his throat.
His responding hum vibrates against your lips. You bury your head further into his neck. Tony's arms slip beneath his hoodie you're wearing and rub your back while holding you tighter to him. The content sigh you release makes him feel more accomplished than any of those meetings did.
He presses his lips against your hair. He doesn't pull away, just enjoying having his lips against you while feeling the warmth of your skin. "You should sleep,” he mumbles against you.
You fight off a yawn before replying, "You should, too.”
"Deal. JARVIS, enter black out mode.”
"Certainly sir,” the robotic voice acknowledges. "Black out mode engaged.”
The lights turn off and the shutters close, plunging the room into darkness. A projection of the stars dimly covers the ceiling. Tony pulls a cover over the both of you.
Bucky Barnes
You sat in the living room, nursing a cup of coffee, and watching the sun rise higher by the hour. Your nightmares were getting worse. You were glad Bucky was on a mission until this afternoon, not wanting to disturb the little sleep he could get. It was a long week, but you could manage. You couldn't help the nightmares that plagued your sleeping mind. They left their mark against you, the dark circles under your eyes anything but subtle.
It was a surprise when you heard the lock in the door. Just as you whipped around to look, the door swung open, revealing Bucky. He dropped his bag as you hurried across the room. In your rush, you tripped over the small rug in your hallway. Bucky's arms were quick to be around you. He picked you up, your legs going around his waist.
"Hi,” you breathed out.
"I've got you,” Bucky kissed you while kicking the door closed. "What are you doing up?”
"Couldn't sleep.”
You felt Bucky's shoulders slump as he gently traced the circles under your eyes. "How many?”
You bit your lip, not wanting to worry him. But you also knew he understood. While you debated, Bucky sat on the couch. The sunlight cast golden beams into the room, making you feel safe.
"It was just eleven…” you trailed off.
Bucky frowned, a small crease appearing between his brows. “Sweetheart, why didn't you let me know you needed me? I would have been here as fast as possible.”
You sagged against him, using his large frame as your personal pillow. “Because I didn't want to worry you, and your mission was important…”
“You're important,” he said disapprovingly.
“I know,” you promise. "But your mission was so short.”
He gave you an unimpressed look. “I was gone four days.”
You sagged against him further, no longer supporting your weight. Bucky sighed as snores came from you.
He hated that you didn't sleep while he was away. Both of you suffered from nightmares. The only solution that kept them away was when the two of you slept beside each other. He knew your nightmares, just as you knew his. He slowly stood up, cradling you against him. Going to the bed, he tucked you in. The small whimper that left you as he moved around the bed made his heart clinch. Even asleep you were reaching out for him. He laid down, pulling your malleable body into his hold. His heart always soared when you were tired, loving how touchy you became. Usually you would wait for him to initiate physical touches, but when you were asleep? All you wanted to do was touch him. The first time he discovered this made his heart melt. Sleeping was when you were most vulnerable, and all you wanted when sleeping was him. The trust you had in him to protect you while slept was the best feeling possible to him.
Loki Laufeyson
Loki's adoration of you grew daily. You were self assured and confident, easily seeming like an immovable force. And you were, but Loki got to see what you were like behind closed doors. Loki witnessed you when the bravado was washed away. Witnessed how dedicated you were to the people in your life. He was lucky enough to be one of those people.
Loki's favorite time was the evening. Getting to relax with you after a long day was perfection to him. Being around you energized him from the tiring tasks of the day. Learning your quirks was an added bonus of spending evenings together.
His favorite was when you were tired. He was used to falling asleep in each other's arms, but what he didn't expect was your nightly request that he speak. Anything from tales of Asgard to having him ramble about seemingly nothing. Each night he looked forward to lulling you to sleep with his stories.
He learned, slowly, that his voice was what allowed you to sleep peacefully. Some nights, when your breathing was evened out, he'd stop talking. It was these nights you would hold onto him tighter, angling your body as if you were trying to shield him from something. He would stroke your hair and begin talking again, and you would relax against him. Instead of your hands clinging to his shirt, they would lay flat against his chest.
He loved the way you would ask him to tell you something. Your eyes would flutter shut, but then you were jerking awake again as if you wanted to avoid sleeping for as long as possible. You would finally give in, resting your forehead against his.
“Tell me something,” you'd whisper.
“What would you like to hear?” He'd brush your hair away from your eyes.
It became a game for him, guessing what your reply would be. If you'd want him to finish a story you fell asleep in the midst of, or to start a new story. Maybe you would want to hear about his thoughts on a book, or request he talk about anything. It didn't matter to him, just as long as you were relaxed. Clinging onto his words more than consciousness was a gift you weren't even aware you were giving him. He relished these moments, committing them to his memory.
Hi! I was wondering if I could get a Bucky x Reader where Reader always buys Bucky the warmest, softest things they can find. Hoodies, blankets, socks, even some stuffed animals, if it looks soft and warm they buy it for him. Bucky is confused by it, but then Reader explains that he went without comfort for so long and they just want to let him spend the rest of his life safe and warm. Gender Neutral! Reader would be preferred, however Female!Reader is also fine if you don't want to do that. Thank you in advance, lovely! 💜
Softened by Time [b.b]
summary : Bucky started off as your upstairs neighbor. But over time, the two of you grew closer. Ultimately your feelings were more than platonic, and the two of you began dating. You knew a lot about Bucky’s past, and his present. He felt he didn’t need many things, and he didn’t have much comfort before the two of you began dating. But you made sure once your relationship started to fix that. As the relationship progressed, you gave Bucky little gifts. A warm hoodie, soft socks, a plush blanket, and a stuffed wolf. It was on the anniversary of his freedom returning that you revealed the reason you give him so many little pieces of comfort.
pairings : Bucky Barnes x Reader
warnings : None, just tooth rotting domestic fluff. This is gender neutral (as requested) and has no use of Y/N. Personally I don’t think ‘baby’ is a gendered pet name, so hopefully I was successful with your request. (if I missed anything let me know!)
word count : 3,895
AO3 (x)
a/n : Thank you so much for the request! I had this done sooner, but when I visited family for the holiday my cousin’s toddler deleted the word doc I was writing in. So this is actually a redone version of what I was going to post. Sorry it took so long (and this also proves to my family why I don’t typically write outside of google docs). Sorry for the delay in getting this up, but thank you so much for the request lovely!
You practically skipped down the hall to the elevator. You were glad the elevator didn't take long as you pressed the button for the floor above yours. You moved swiftly down the hall to Bucky's apartment. You held the small package securely behind your back, eager to give him the small gift that had just arrived. You knocked quickly before hearing a muffled shout to hold on. The quiet grumbling slowly grew louder as he approached the door, face melting from annoyance to adoration as the door swung inward.
"Hi," Bucky breathed out, wrapping his arms around you, "I wasn't expecting you until later."
You balanced on your tip-toes, leaning up to press a quick kiss against his cheek. "I just couldn't wait," you admitted.
Bucky's arms dropped from around you as he stepped to the side so you could walk in. You'd gotten used to how barren his apartment was. Discussed how he'd never had this many things since before the draft. As you passed through his doorway you brought the small package in front of you, crossing the room. You sat on his couch, beaming at him as he sat beside you.
"I got you something!" Your excitement was barely able to stay contained much longer. You set the small bag on his lap, clasping your hands together.
"Baby, you didn't have to do that," Bucky says softly, looking down at the small package.
"I wanted to," you insist, "besides it's nothing big, I promise."
Bucky meets your eyes with a look of amazement, a gentle expression conveying everything you already know. He gives a small nod before picking up the little bag. He reaches in and pulls out the socks you'd ordered. His brow furrows slightly as he feels the soft material, a confused smile adorning his face.
"I know they're not your usual choice," you begin, "but I thought they'd be nice for when you're just hanging out. Instead of always wearing athletic socks around the apartment. The floors get too cold for how thin those socks are."
Bucky leans over and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. "Thank you, I never would have thought of that."
You leaned further into his side, glad that the pack of socks was well received. You cuddled further into him as he pulled a pair of the patterned socks on. You stayed through the afternoon, enjoying Bucky's company. The two of you were laughing as you told him about your most recent incident at work. As you were describing the look on your boss' face when he realized he'd given the entire presentation with smudged lipstick along his neck, Bucky's phone rang. He sighed as he stood, crossing the room to grab the device. You couldn't hear what the person on the other line was saying, but from Bucky’s quick responses you knew he had a mission.
So as not to disturb him, you quietly pulled on your shoes. You went to give Bucky a quick kiss goodbye when his arm wrapped around you.
“I'll be there in thirty minutes,” Bucky ended the call.
You draped your arms over his shoulders, “I thought we lived twenty minutes from the tower?”
Smiling down at you Bucky shrugs. “I wanted a bit more time with you. Especially when I wanted to give you this,” Bucky reached into his pocket. He handed you a small silver key.
“Your key? Is this a long mission? I don't mind house sitting for you.”
Bucky smiled and gave a small shake of his head. “It's my spare key. I figured that it made sense to give you it. We've been dating for a few months, and we spend so much time together.”
You wrapped your arms around Bucky's shoulders, hugging him as tightly as possible. “Thank you,” you whispered against him.
Your heart swelled at the gesture. You knew how hard it was for him to trust people. It'd been a slow process to get to know each other. A full year of small interactions that slowly lead to the beginning of your friendship. As your friendship solidified, so did your feelings for Bucky. You were surprised by the fact your feelings were mutual when Bucky asked you on the first date. Now, four months later, you don't think you've ever been happier.
“I wouldn't want anyone else to have it,” Bucky whispers back to you. “Let me grab my go-bag and I'll walk you back to your apartment.”
The two of you left the apartment hand in hand, with you locking the door behind you.
It was officially two weeks since Bucky gave you a key to his apartment, which meant you hadn’t heard from him for two weeks either. You stayed busy, trying your best not to think about how he may be risking his life right this second. You had deep cleaned your entire apartment, made sure to grab Bucky’s mail when you got your own, and generally stayed in. Today, as you were closing the door to Bucky’s apartment after setting his mail down on the kitchen counter you decided to venture out. You had managed this long with just quick trips to the grocery store, but the cabin fever had fully set in today. Unsure of how busy a place you wanted to be, you settled on the bookstore across town.
You meandered your way up and down the isles, finding a few books that piqued your interest. It was as you were heading up to the registers that you saw the display. It was in the children’s section, next to where volunteers would read stories to the children. An entire bookcase was filled with stuffed animals. The one that had caught your eye the most was on the bottom shelf. A small white and gray wolf with icy blue eyes. You couldn’t help it as you grabbed the animal and added it to your stack of items.
Before long you had your books and wolf secured in the bag. You were walking toward the train station, thinking about when to give your little surprise to Bucky. You had no idea when he’d be returning from his mission, but what you did know was it was coming up on the anniversary of when he was declared to be officially deprogrammed of the Winter Soldier’s activation words. You remembered when you found out Bucky had been declared as the “white wolf” by the children of Wakanda. He’d seemed embarrassed by the nickname when he first told you, but you had reassured him that it suited him.
The train made quick work of taking you across the city. You were soon walking into your apartment building, taking the stairs up to your floor. It was when you turned the corner that led you down the hall to your door that you spotted him. Bucky had his bag over his shoulder, his jacket hanging open while his boots were caked in dried mud.
He was lifting his arm to knock on your door as you opened your mouth, “You’re back!”
Bucky turned to see you approaching. As soon as you were close enough for him to reach you, he pulled you into him. His arms wrapped tightly around you as his shoulders slumped. His head rested atop yours while you hugged him back.
“Are you okay? Injured anywhere?” You worried about him.
Bucky shook his head, his cheek rubbing against the crown of your head. You gave him one final squeeze before managing to turn around in his hold. You slotted your key into the door and led the two of you inside. You toed off your shoes as Bucky unwrapped one arm to close the door behind the two of you. Not bothering to turn the lights on as you made your way through the apartment, the path to your room easy to navigate. You gently put the bag from the bookstore on the ground before Bucky pulled the two of you onto the bed.
He landed on his back, angling the landing so that you would be lying atop him. His eyes were closed as you laid against him. The steady thump-thump of his heart beneath your ear revealed how relaxed he was. As you lifted your head, you heard the quietest snore slip out from him, revealing just how tired he was. You stood from his hold, taking a minute to unlace his boots before slipping his feet from them. You grabbed his go-bag from the doorway and removed the one pair of sweatpants and the soft hoodie you had given him weeks ago.
Sitting beside his head, you gently cupped his bearded cheek. “Jamie,” you called out in a hushed tone. “Darling, I need you to wake up.”
The rhythm of Bucky’s snores faltered.
“It’ll be just a moment, I promise. I grabbed you some comfy clothes. If you change, we can cuddle under the blanket.”
Bucky’s eyes cracked open ever so slightly at your offer. You could tell he was weighing whether cuddling under the blanket would be better than sleeping immediately. As he thought, your thumb traced a path back and forth against his bearded cheek. It wasn’t often he let his short stubble go beyond being just that, but you enjoyed the way the bristly hair felt against your skin. It took just a few moments more for him to close his eyes once again with an exaggerated exhale as he sat up. The smallest uptick of his lips revealed that he was just being dramatic about changing his clothes.
“Thank you,” you kissed his cheek as you passed him the folded stack of fabric.
He lazily nodded as he grabbed the items, turning to walk the few steps into your bathroom. As he changed you pulled back the covers of your bed. You tucked yourself under the blanket, glad you had decided to dress comfortably when deciding to finally leave your apartment. Once Bucky reappeared from the dark bathroom, you lifted your arm while lifting the blanket. Bucky wasted no time in crawling into the bed, letting your arm drape across him as the blanket encased the two of you together. His arm settled into the slight dip of your waist pulling you against his chest. The hoodie he now wore was pushed up around his waist, the two of you lying chest to chest. You rested your cheek against his chest, feeling the warmth radiate from where his skin touched the thin material of your shirt before your legs tangled together.
As the two of you fell asleep facing each other, you appreciated the way his face relaxed so openly. It wasn’t often Bucky looked so untroubled, and you couldn’t help but wish you could get him to look this untroubled when he was awake too.
The week following Bucky’s return from his mission was blissful. With the intensity of his last mission and this one, and the duration of the two, he wasn’t assigned to go on another mission for at least a full month. You weren’t certain what his missions entailed, but Bucky was willing to reveal that he was making great progress on the mission his assigned missions were for. The information he managed to gather would take the other teams at least a month to fully analyze, and in the meantime it seemed he was determined to spend all his time with you.
You were hoping to surprise Bucky with a lunch date today. You had a plan, texting him to meet you at the restaurant for one. You heard as his door loudly closed behind him upstairs at noon. Moments later your phone buzzed with a message from Sam. Tin man is coming over now you read on the screen. You quickly sent your thanks before grabbing the box you’d prepared. Seeing that five minutes had passed since the Bucky’s apartment door closed, you made sure you had everything before sneaking up to his apartment.
The box balanced on your hip as you unlocked his door. Slipping inside, you got to work. You spread the oversized, fluffy, cider colored blanket over the arm of his couch. You had never been more thankful that his coffee table was barren of clutter as you spread out the snacks you had brought over. Soon the small table was covered by a tray of cookies, bags of sweets, cans of soda and bottles of water. You crossed the room and set your stack of movies beside his DVD player. Glancing over the room once more, you nodded as everything was set up. Finally, you set the wolf you had bought in Bucky’s usual seat. Your phone buzzed from your pocket as the alarm you had set began to go off. Swiping it away, you exited Bucky’s apartment and headed toward the restaurant.
Just as you were being seated, Bucky arrived. You watched as he made quick work of crossing the small dining room. The dark jeans he wore contrasted well with the light blue shirt he had on beneath his usual leather jacket. His cheeks were slightly tinged pink from the constant wind outside.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said before quickly kissing your cheek then taking a seat across from you.
You waved his worry away easily, “I just got here. I figured I would get us a table before they,” you gestured to the large group that was speaking with the host, “tried to get one.”
Bucky’s chuckle made you smile.
Your lunch date carried on with laughter and smiles being shared. Everything between the two of you was so natural, every moment as easy as breathing.
“Would you like to come up?” Bucky offered as you both made your way up the stairs together.
“That sounds great,” you swung his hand in yours.
You bit your lip as the two of you carried on past your floor. You were going over everything you had set up before leaving as Bucky slid his key in the lock. As his door swung open, he stepped out of the way so you could go in first. You stepped into the entryway before turning around to catch his reaction. Just as you faced Bucky, he stopped in his tracks. His brows furrowed slightly at the scene laid out before him while a mystified reaction made its way to his features.
“Surprise,” you giggled. “I thought we could have a movie day!”
“Baby,” Bucky’s breathless voice exhaled. “What’s all this?”
You gently grabbed his hands and pulled him along as you walked backward. “Well, I thought we could have a date-day. Get lunch, watch movies, and spend time together,” you explained. “Not that we haven’t been spending time together. But rather, I wanted to surprise you with a planned time together.”
Bucky’s wonderstruck expression melted away as you spoke, fondness clear in his gaze. “That sounds wonderful,” he quietly rasped out.
You couldn’t help the way your shoulders relaxed at his response. You figured he would like your surprise, but hearing how happy he was with your plan filled you with warmth. You couldn’t stop the surprised squeak that escaped your lips as Bucky picked you up, spun the two of you around, and fell back on the couch with you held close. Where his head now lay made the wolf you got him fall over onto his face. A breathless laugh escaped him as the soft plush bounced off his head.
“And who is this?” He pulled one arm from around you and grabbed the toy.
“Your spirit animal,” you joked. “To keep you company when I’m downstairs and you’re up here.”
Bucky’s attention shifted from your gaze to the plush that now looked small in his hold. Realization colored his tone as he spoke, “A white wolf.”
You nodded reiterating, “Like I said. Your spirit animal.”
Bucky’s laughter shook you where you lay against him, before he nodded as well. “In that case, he should watch movies with us.”
You leant down to press your lips against his before sitting up. As you stood up Bucky shifted so his head was atop the blanket and against the arm of the couch. You felt his eyes on you as you ambled across the room, powering on his DVD player and opening the first movie you planned on playing.
“I still don’t see why you won’t let me make you a profile on my streaming accounts,” you mumbled to yourself as the disc tray slid back in the player.
“Because then you would have no reason to keep your DVD collection,” Bucky replied easily. “And I don’t need to buy another new television.”
“You wouldn’t need a different television,” you argued as you pulled the blanket out from beneath his head. “You’d just need one of those dongle things that lets you make a TV into a smart TV.”
Bucky laughed, “You know I have no idea what any of that means, right?”
“Old man,” you grumbled with a roll of your eyes as you laid against Bucky’s chest once again, this time with the blanket sprawled out to cover the two of you.
Bucky grabbed the remote from your hand, “Aren’t you the one who always points out that we’re physically the same age?”
As the TV turns on you hear the familiar sounds of the selection menu on the screen. “And aren’t you the one that likes to brag about reading The Hobbit when it first came out?” You retort with a smile.
Before he can respond, you gently push Bucky’s cheek so his eyes are on the screen. You know the instant he sees that the movie you chose was The Hobbit. You make quick work of pressing play on the remote still in his grasp. Cozying up to Bucky, you replace the remote with your hand as the opening scenes play.
You couldn’t help the yawn that escaped you as you watched the movie end, Frodo making his visit to Bilbo. You enjoyed the movie, but relaxing alongside your boyfriend for three hours made you sleepy.
“What d’ya think?” You tiredly mumbled.
“I think that despite all the sugar we just ate,” Bucky turns off the TV, “we should get you in bed.”
“No,” you weakly protest. “Not that. The movie!”
“Baby,” you felt Bucky’s hand gently cup your cheek, “I really think we should go to bed.”
You slowly blinked as you processed his words. “That sounds nice,” you sighed.
You slowly sat up, but before you could stand Bucky’s arms slid beneath you. Between one moment and the next Bucky was carrying you to bed. The easy sway of his steps had you easily creeping closer to sleep. The softness of the mattress greeted you as he set you down.
“The movie was good,” Bucky began, his voice traveling around the room. “I wasn’t upset with the things they changed, but I don’t understand some of the changes either.”
You hummed, hoping it would encourage him to keep talking.
“Here, I grabbed you some clothes to sleep in,” Bucky’s voice came from beside you.
When you opened your eyes again, his form was blurry. You sat up, pulling your shirt over your head. You reached out blindly, feeling soft fabric. You went to take it from Bucky’s hold, but he carefully guided your arms through the holes before pulling it over your head.
“Is it okay for me to change your pants?” Bucky asked clearly.
You laid back while nodding sloppily, “Tha’s fine,” you slurred out.
You felt Bucky’s hand at your waistband, undoing the button and zipper. “I enjoyed the day with you. It was nice.”
“Good, you deserve nice things. Especially today.”
“Is that so?” Bucky pulled your pants off completely.
You squinted at him in a weak attempt of glaring. “Why wouldn’t you?”
Bucky didn’t respond as he pulled a large pair of shorts up to your waist. He pulled the covers over you before you heard him step away.
The bed dipped down beside you before he responded, “I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve a lot of things.”
“Hey,” you turned to face Bucky, his response making you more alert. “You deserve nice things. All the time. And even if you don’t think so, I do. So I’ll keep getting you little things, because you deserve them.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Bucky cupped your cheek again. “I have you, and that’s more than I deserve.”
You pouted, wishing you could make him understand. “Life isn’t always about what is deserved. Or isn’t deserved. It can also be about things you want. I want to get you nice things. I want to make sure you know how much I love you. I want to be the person you go to when missions are so hard you don’t talk for days afterwards. You deserve to have someone that notices little details about you. I want to celebrate important days with you, and give you soft things to make up for the years you didn’t have anything. I want to make you smile and feel loved. And you deserve all those things. You deserve to be loved, and have someone care about you wholly.”
There was a beat of silence before Bucky crashed his lips against yours once again. The passion held between his lips that consumed you took your breath away. Your head spun, and you couldn't tell if it was just because of him or a lack of air. The answer didn’t matter. All too soon Bucky broke away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours while panting. You felt his warm breaths puff against your lips as you leaned in to kiss him again. He held you still from where he cupped your cheeks.
“That’s why?” Bucky asked between gasps of air.
“Why what?” You whispered into the small gap between the two of you.
“That’s why you get me little things? Like the socks, the blanket, the wolf. Because I went so long without?”
“I get you them because I want to. And I hope that it makes up for the years you had no choices. I know it’s dumb,” you try to explain. “But I hope it makes up for all the pain you never deserved. I got the wolf to represent that chapter of your life being over, and I gave it to you today to celebrate the anniversary of you gaining your freedom back. I got you the hoodie because I know how much the cold bothers you deep down. I found the socks because you don’t need to only buy things to be practical. The blanket was a bit selfish, I admit it. But I wanted to be able to cuddle you close while having plenty of blanket left.”
Bucky let out a small whine deep in his throat, “Baby…”
“I just want you to realize how much I love you. And I choose you every time, because I want you in my life. And sometimes it feels like I don’t deserve you, but for some reason you choose me too. And you never fail to show me just how much you care about me.”
“I love you so much.”
You lean in to kiss Bucky, and this time he doesn’t stop your lips from connecting.
Also, here's what items I am talking about in the fic.
*picture credit goes to Amazon for product images, and I made them into the collage myself*
Author's Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.
Yesterday was my last final, so I'm back. Two weeks straight of final exams in college sucks, and I'm so glad to be done with them. I will be working on my received requests and posting more often again! Thank you all for the patience, sorry for the disappearance.
My reading recommendations! None of these are mine. Most of these are Loki x reader fics so I’ll only mark the characters if otherwise. I apologize for pings in advance!
dededos
vaporwave
turnnoffyourmind
2087
romaincrisis
