Warnings: Angst mixed with fluff. Reader has a nightmare. Description of parental abuse and neglect. If abuse triggers you at all, please don’t read this. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.
Summary: Reader has a nightmare pertaining to her childhood/teenage years, and Bucky comforts her.
Note: This week was so miserable. I had to complete three tests and am currently trying to complete two projects. I thought I lost my favorite pens as well— with all the stress combined, I just kinda broke down in Japanese class lmao. My teacher’s so nice though, she just let us have a break for that period, scrapping her plans for our supposed Kanji test. Just sad boi hours basically.
Anyhow, I was just listening to the playlist I play when I need to act out sad scenes in Theatre class, and this idea came to mind— rather half memory.
If there are any grammatical or spelling mistakes, please let me know, if you liked my story or just want to send a general feedback, please also let me know, much loves.
"No!" She doesn't remember how she got into this predicament, "Please!" But she was here.
Her mother just watched at the end of the hallway, a disappointed look on her face as her father knew what punishment he had set up for her.
She was pulled by her waist, dragged, helpless across the empty hallway into a door, "Mom, please!" No matter how much she yelled, no one seemed to hear her.
And she gets pushed into the dark room. She tried of course, tried, and tried, and then some more. But her retaliation never seemed to budge anyone. Her fists pounds on the wooden door, begging to be let out. Though it was just met with sorrowful silence.
"Please!" She begged, her voice straining, her fists slowing its onslaught on the door, "Don't do this to me!” She slides down, the hopeless feeling climbing up from deep within.
"Please." She curls up into a ball, her shoulders shaking from the sheer pain she felt, no matter that she was bruised, her heart had been hurt for a long time.
That's all she felt, Pain.
"Please."
She gasps, blinking the sleep away from her eyes.
It's another one of those nights, where her past won't stop haunting her. Her eyebrows furrowed, sitting up and reaching out to empty the glass of water placed on her nightstand.
She places the glass back, turning her head to see her husband sleeping. Just a few years ago, she was the one to comfort him of his night terrors. But now that she's being haunted by her past, she couldn't bring herself to open up to him. Of course, Bucky knew of her past. She chose to share her journey when he wouldn't talk about his own, opting to make him laugh through her darker jokes instead of pushing.
She understood the feeling of not being able to open up to anyone, all of the trust broken away when he was brain washed into the Winter Soldier; Her trust being existent to a fault, broken away by the people who was supposed to protect her in her childhood. She just wasn't okay potentially bringing him down with her if she ever opens up and tell him more, when they've spent so much time recovering.
She didn't notice the tears flowing down her cheeks until she felt a droplet on her hand.
She looked at him with much adoration. He looked really peaceful in his sleep.
She turns, laying back down and scooting so her back is against his bare chest. He instinctively wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close and nuzzling his face on the crook of her neck.
The single sniffle had apparently alerted Bucky as he lifts his head, groggily looking at the side of his wife’s face.
"Iubire?"(love?) He calls, scooting back a bit to lean her back more and propping himself up to his elbow— wanting to see her face clearer with the moonlight.
She doesn't respond, instead sniffling once again, internally cursing her nose for being so loud.
"What's wrong, my love?" He asks. Her eyes flutter open, a pair of tears dropping down onto the pillow.
"Nothing, I'm alright." She takes a deep breath in with a forced smile, turning away and pushing her back against his chest more.
"That would be more convincing if you weren’t so congested, Darling.” He chuckles when she does, “What's wrong, what do you need?"
Her chuckle dies down into silence for a moment before she inhales, "Can you just hold me?" She reluctantly asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
He blinks, processing her words.
He nods, "Of course." He repositions himself, wrapping both of his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him.
"Wait." She whispers and his grip loosens. She turns around, shoving her face in between his pillow and his face. He smiles, placing his head on top of hers as she wrapped her arms around his torso, him doing the same, except holding her tighter.
"Are you alright?" He asks again, pushing his luck for the night.
"Just a nightmare." She says almost nonchalantly, “It’s just one of those nights.”
“Was it the locked room?” He asks.
She sighs, coughing a little from the interrupted sob. He rubs her back soothingly, coaxing her body to calm down.
“I don’t know why it keeps happening, Buck.” She says, “I’ve been doing so well for years.”
He feels her hand ball into a fist against his bare back and it shattered his heart knowing that he couldn’t take this pain—her pain—away no matter how much he wanted to. He just wanted to hear her laugh all of the time, see her smile, jest, dance, sing even when they’re out and about in public.
“It’s not a linear path.” Bucky earnestly says, “You were the one to tell me that, remember?” He rubs the side of his face against hers, his hand sliding up to gently grasp the back of her head. She softly giggles from the feeling of his beard he had started to grow per request by her and his heart swells, considering her response as a small win.
“You just have to tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, because I want to help you.” He takes in the scent of her shampoo, “It’s the least I could do for all the years that you’ve proven how worth it it is to keep going.” He lifts his head, leaning back a bit to see his wife’s face. He gives a faint smile, wiping the tears away with his fingers. He places a kiss on her forehead.
"No matter how bad the nights are, I'll always be here for you, love. That part will never change.” He kisses the tip of her nose to hear the giggle he elicits from it, “I will always do my best to take care of you.” He leans in, capturing her salty lips in his.
“And I will never stop loving you.”
A new set of tears flow from her eyes, “I love you.” She sniffles, overwhelmed by the pure love she felt radiating from Bucky.
“I love you.” He responds, pulling her close to himself as if she’d fly away if he even loosened his grip a little.
~~~
Goodnighty, happy Friday :> I hope this wasn’t too bad cuz I edited this half asleep.
Hello! I’m Eloise – You can shorten the name to El, or Ellie, even E works – And this is my masterlist for my writing and music stuff.
It is tiny, but mighty💪
Anyhow, this’ll be separated into fandoms, writing prompts, and music… Emphasis on music.
Will be updated as I upload more :3
Marvel
Bucky Barnes:
Comfortable Nightmare - Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader : Reader has a nightmare pertaining to her childhood/teenage years, and Bucky comforts her.
Memento Mori - Really Stark!Siblings(Tony, reader) but there’s like 5 lines with Bucky and reader in it so I say it counts : She’s sitting on Tony Stark's grave, talking to the wind and reminiscing.
Sherlock(BBC)
Sherlock:
Telling Mum - OC x Sherlock : Sherlock catches his colleague reading something she probably shouldn’t be reading at work and goes on telling mum.
Writing Prompts
Gibberish : You have a subtle superpower. You can understand any language known to man, written or spoken, even ancient ones, braille, and sign language. Your normal life as a successful archeologist suddenly takes a turn when you meet a girl who happens to speak another language than her own, but you cannot understand her at all.
Tax Evader : Everyone knows the Grim Reaper, the personification of Death. You are the supernatural personification of the other certainty in life: Taxes.
Music
Unrequited Love - Based on this fanfic of Bucky
Make Some Sense - This was originally a Christian song I made for my mum cuz of the way the chords are and how peaceful it sounds. But I made one where it’s just neutral, very angst(?) Cuz why not?
My Golden Hour - The sunset inspired me to make this song– I love Spring.
Dream A Little Dream of Me - Another one based on a Bucky Barnes fanfic... I don’t know, Bucky Barnes writers make a lot of really poetic-type work, I love them–
Maybe It Was A Mistake - This is a short little snippet I made, it apparently sounds bittersweet, according to one of my friends. I love it.
Best Kept - Wouldn’t you know, here’s another Bucky Barnes inspired song.
Anne Hathaway - I should prolly change the title tbh. But it’s Carol Ann Duffy inspired. Very lullaby, very nice. I think anyway. Cuz it has a lot of details in both melody and lyrics.
I lost my sleepiness over writing… I made a prompt for myself based in that Garfield plushie picture where there’s a new one with its eyes open and the old one with its eyes closed? Yea. I kinda cried with the idea that it closed it’s eyes cuz it was so well loved. It’s 5 AM I’m passing out now.
I was reading Carol Ann Duffy’s collection of “The World’s Wife” and “Anne Hathaway” stuck out like a sore thumb with how soft it was compared to every single piece in the collection. So I made a song :)))
I’m writing a weird piece(monologue?) to show someone and it’s not a fanfic, sadly, but here’s a part of it😃👍🏻
It’s called “Patterns In Love” for now but I’m half asleep so that doesn’t make sense which is why it’s subjected to change. It’s like a journal entry for now as well. Not sure what perspective to write it in.
Maybe it’s selfish, but I want to be loved.
Not just the love that you see on TV, the longing, the yearning, the pining. But love that you read in poetic pieces that somehow makes you feel complete. The love that you see with older couples where everyday seems like the day they fell for each other.
I want to be loved at three in the morning when I’m crying for no particular reason. Held like I’d float away if they were to let go of me. Told that everything will be okay. Or that it’s not going to be okay, but that it’s okay that everything is not going to be okay, because that’s just how things are sometimes.
I want to be loved in the days where I can’t even make sentences coherent enough to survive. Laugh through all of my babbling because my brain is so scrambled from all of the reading and writing I’ve done. Talk through possibilities of how my story should or would end. Sleep through the night with the comfort of knowing I’ll wake up to them next to me.
I want the love that feels like going home after a long, tiring day. Wanting nothing else than to lay in bed and soaking in that feeling you get when you’re with them. Sitting in that silence because the moment says so much even without any words spoken.
I want to love and be loved and not feel the consequences of love through the pain of letting them go.
