Father figure : Chapter 4
Pairing : Best Friend’s Dad Bucky (James/Mr. Barnes) x Reader
Warnings : R18, Eventual Smut, Angst, adult teenager (18 and green), taboo desires
Word count : 2294
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Masterlist
She called constantly, and you ignored her. Rebecca’s picture flashed across your phone screen throughout the day, like a storm siren alerting the whole house of impending danger. It continued to ring through your ears even when the small brick was silent, having finally been switched off. A development that hadn’t lasted very long.
Eventually, the guilt of shutting Becky out made you crack. An already uneven and weak foundation crumbled from under your feet as you switched the phone back on, letting that little white half apple glow over the screen, and taking the next call that came through.
After all, she was the innocent party in this increasingly strange dynamic.
“Hello?” Your voice was low, rasped with disuse, and choked with your previously heavily shed tears.
“Oh, my God!! Why the hell weren’t you answering your phone?!”
Becky’s voice was sharp and louder than you’d expected, but it didn’t carry the anger you’d readied yourself to hear. It sounded so scared.
“I needed some time to myself!” You parroted her tone unintentionally.
“W-was it something I did or-or said? What happened?”
You mulled over what to say, how to say it, but instead you stayed silent for a few minutes too long before finally blubbering another half-truth.
“It wasn’t anything like that… I’ve just been feeling overwhelmed lately.”
She didn’t answer, not right away at least. For those few minutes everything was silent, leaving dead air and the thrumming of your quickened pulse pounding in your ear as the only sound left.
“Why didn’t you just talk to me about it?” she finally said. Her voice was soft, sad, and dejected.
It made your heart sink, and you replied with, “I’m sorry.”
“Can we talk? In person...please.”
“I….I don’t know about that right now.”
“You aren’t the only one who feels overwhelmed. But, you are the only person I have to talk to.”
Your eyes brimmed with more traitorous tears, stinging at the corners before being blinked away.
“I should be able to visit for a little bit.” You answer weakly.
“5-ish?” Her voice was still uncharacteristically meek, but the words tumbled from the speaker quickly.
You sighed, now fully aware how easily you’ve been pushed from your ledge and right back into the trouble you ran away from.
“Yes, I can be over at 5.” You said flatly, nearly melancholic, after having lost your grip on the situation.
It was already 4, which gave you both an hour to clean the evidence of emotion off each of your teary faces. Something similar you both could feel but left unseen by the other.
The call lingered for a few seconds longer, half-baked plans still being played with before finally being left to rise on their own once the call ended.
You thank your lucky stars that your mom was at work. The deepening scowl on her face at the insistent ringing only made everything worse. It was difficult trying to keep discipline in the house while not teetering on a need to allow you to keep your longtime and only friend.
She’d lamented in the past your shy demeanor, wishing you’d been just a little more outgoing so as to not have been entangled in Rebecca’s unending emotional turmoil. You never judged Becky as your mother did, but as you’d grown older and even now, you knew that some things she did weren't right, but you could never bring yourself to sever ties with someone close enough to be the sibling you’d never had.
An ongoing battle with no one winning in the end.
For now, your journey through the house, purse packed and dirty sneakers slipped over cotton socks, was uninterrupted all the way out the front door before locking it with a quick click.
You hopped onto your bike and soon picked up pace down the suburban road, the damp autumn air tickling your skin as you rode away. You tried to will each anxious thought into your already twisted stomach as you sped down a curve in the street.
Finally, the house came into view, Mr. Barnes’ truck parked in its driveway. You stopped your tire with a wet squelch over rainy asphalt so as not to let your bike ram you into the back of the truck bed.
You stood there, half balanced on one foot with your leg slung over the bike, hands still tightly gripping the handlebars.
Your eyes were first caught on the truck, bending along the chrome edges and each tiny patch of rust. You knew that truck just as well as you knew this house, and even more so as you were learning more about the man who owned both. A man you thought, for the longest time, you knew too.
The clatter of the door creaking open pulled you out of this trance, dragging you back to the real world once again.
You didn’t move from your spot by the truck, even as Rebecca called out from the open doorway to “come in, it’s cold.”
You continued to hesitate, your molars grinding together until you saw her figure begin to leave the doorway of her home. You dropped your bike, letting it fall without a kickstand, and began trotting over before she could move another inch.
When you reach the door, Becky’s arms are thrown around you in a tight embrace. You try to match that same eagerness but pale in comparison to the air on lock of Rebecca’s grip.
When she pulled away, you took in a deep and much-needed breath, not realizing you’d been holding it until the hug was over.
“Thank you for coming back.” She said softly. You’ve never made her so genuinely sad before, and more and more guilt began filling your belly.
“I'm sorry for leaving.” The melodic sound of your voice danced through the house and directly to his ears. It shook every ounce of sleep out of his bones, and he shot up to sit at the edge of the couch.
“Come in, I gotta to grab my bag.” Becky let you by as she sped back to her room.
You stepped carefully inside but didn’t sit. You stared at your feet, not wanting to drop your eyes onto Mr. Barnes, and he did the same as he scratched the back of his head.
Becky trotted back out as she gave her father a quick goodbye. “We’re going to get something to eat; I’ll be back later.”
“Be safe.” He waved her off before finally getting up to leave the room. Becky seemed to seethe a little at the dismissal and trudged out of the house and into the open autumn air, with you shutting the door behind you and following her.
The two of you ditched your bikes, choosing instead to walk through the small town looking for a destination with cheap fare. Would you grab a mediocre burger at McDonald's, a hot meal made with love at the small diner, or an overfilled soft serve at the only ice cream shop still open this late in the season?
You both decided on junk snacks and soda at the gas station. You tried to eat your fill of Little Debbie cake and chips but ended up nibbling whatever your stomach would allow. Neither of you seemed very hungry.
You both sat at an old bench by an empty parking lot, silently picking at your food until one of you finally broke through the thick, icy wall that formed between you.
“Why did you run away from me?” Becky was the first to speak, asking a question that had been on her mind for days.
“What? Becky, I told you. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was just…”
“Overwhelmed.” She finished your sentence before continuing with her own. “You still didn’t tell me why. You never keep things from me when you're upset.”
That was true, but how could you tell her about how you felt about her own father?
You felt a small gust of wind roll over your shoulders, rustling your hair. It was followed by a stray droplet signaling the change that was to come.
“I saw you talking to my dad in the kitchen…and you were upset.” You stared down at the cracked asphalt, the few strands of dead grass still poking through.
You were frozen to the bench, joints and muscles locking into place as your eyes were stuck on the deep grey pits forming in the sky. Neither of you could look at the other, and you waited for her to say more.
When you and Mr. Barnes had been talking that night, neither of you had realized when the shower cut off. But, luckily, you both had kept your voices low enough to hide the true nature of the conversation. All Becky knew was that something upset you enough to send you running into the night.
“Was it something he said? Do you hate me now too?” Her voice broke, another onslaught of tears beginning to pour down her cheeks. Never in your life had you made Rebecca so sad.
“What?!” You finally snap into action, wanting nothing but to comfort her.
“I saw you guys arguing in the kitchen like my mom and him used to when they would talk about me.” She unraveled, pulling herself away from you to stand a few feet from the bench.
Another drop of rain fell, hitting your shoulder, followed by another and another.
“He doesn’t hate you! I don’t hate you, Becky.”
“That’s not what it was about! I swear!”
“Then what?! What the fuck were you two yelling at each other about?” She cried, now throwing her purse around in the damp air. The clouds opened up to mirror her strife, pouring out over the both of you.
You had to yank your hoodless coat over your head to shield yourself from the onslaught, all while screaming back at her. “It wasn’t you. I just…can we get out of the fucking rain?!!”
“No! I want an answer! You don’t keep things from me; you never ever do.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you; it’s just…" You couldn’t finish that one sentence yet again. You're one roadblock to fixing this situation, possibly making it so much worse.
“Just what?! Fuckin tell me.” She was just letting the storm soak her to her bones, too caught up in her personal whirlwind to notice.
Do you dare tell the truth? How would she react? You have to take a heavy breath before attempting to speak again. They were the first words that popped into your head, and they just spilled out without stopping to think them over.
“He was mad at me for not stopping you that night at the party. He was upset that I let you get so drunk. I was there with you, and I didn’t do enough to stop it, and he was just upset. I don’t mean to keep anything from you.” But I have to.
Another painful lie to add to your new pile of sin. But, you weren’t wrong either. You went with her to protect her, and you failed. Whether James had truly felt it was your fault, a small part of you certainly did.
Becky just sobbed there in the rain before stumbling towards you to drag you into another tight hug, crying into your shoulder.
“I’m sorry.” This time it was her who was apologizing and bawling into your already wet coat that was still slung over your head.
“Can we just get out of the rain, please?!”
She pulled away and gave a little nod before walking off towards the treeline near the parking lot. There was a metal link fence protecting the short strip of wilderness from the cracked concrete of civilization.
Neither of you were going to be able to walk home in this weather, and Becky agreed to call her dad.
You were hesitant to bother your mom, as not only was she at work, but she wasn’t keen on you still hanging around Rebecca.
You got chewed out for having her in the house again. This time the transgression would be met with an actual punishment.
The two of you waited by the trees before he came speeding by. New puddles that formed in the small dips in the road were splashed out by the onslaught of determined tires, sending a rush of water over the side of his truck before he finally came to a stop beside a set of two troublesome girls.
Becky rushed for the door, yanking it open so as to escape the rain. You followed after, breathing with relief to be out of the downpour of water and emotion.
“Why didn’t you call sooner?” Mr. Barnes rubbed his brow hard as the two of you crawled into the back of the truck.
It wasn’t that simple anymore to just answer that question. As hard as it was to give Becky a crumb, you couldn’t bear to give him so much as an inkling of the previous conversation you and Becky shared.
“It wasn’t that bad a minute ago.” Becky might not have been lying, as she didn’t pay much attention to the actual severity of the rain during her tirade.
“Well, let's check the weather next time before going out on one of your little excursions, okay?”
“Alright,” Becky huffed before pulling her seatbelt across her body with a click.
You stayed quiet during the ride, thinking only about the partial confession you’d given your friend. You looked up only once at the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of a familiar pair of blue eyes looking back at you before switching back to the road ahead.
Chapter 5
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