Bucky Barnes x Black!Reader
Request: “Could you do a bucky x black reader where she tries to get him up to date on the modern world and has to explain that the way poc’s are treated, especially blacks hasn’t changed?”
Summary: Bucky is a grumpy old man, but for good reason!!
Warnings: Racism, like one curse word, a hint of fluff ;D
Tag List: @chrisemi @mirajanestrauss1999
Authors note : I’m so sorry this took so long work has been trying to drain my soul , the devil trynna test me y’all lmao anyway I hope you like this!!! I’m sorry if its not what you wanted I tried my best :> Any who, Requests are open! -Admin A
Another cold day had come and gone, by the time I walked in my door the sun had long fallen, I had stepped inside my apartment expecting the traditional bear hug from my boyfriend I always got when I came home, but instead I was greeted with silence, after receiving no answer I began to tip toe in the rest of the way, alert, preparing myself for a robber or something awful, only to see the back of Buck’s head, his attention was entirely on on the television, that in and of itself was concerning, after all Bucky was from the 1940’s, him and modern technology just didn’t always end up well.If the silent greeting wasn’t clue enough the moment I saw him I could tell something was off, so I slowly walked over, tossing my bag on the nearby counter not really caring where it landed.
“Hey baby?”
I spoke slowly coming up to his stone like form.
I placed a tentative hand on his shoulder, pulling him from the screen.
He finally turned away from what I now saw was the news, looking up at me from his seat on our couch, and if I wasn’t sure before I was now, something was definitely wrong.
I shuffled around his body until I was sat next to him, out of instinct I reached for his hand, to my relief he returned the gesture, though he remained silent. I stared at the man before me, my brows creased in concern.
If you’re with someone long enough you get to know them better than yourself, and for me? Reading Bucky was as easy as breathing for me.
What gave him away most of the time was his eyes.
See, Bucky had these eyes, and yeah, they were beautiful, but what was really incredible about them was the stories they told, if he let you close enough, you could almost seethe stories, the pain, for a master assassin he was pretty bad about hiding the way he felt, but then again I always figured it was his own way of rebelling against what had been drilled into his head, he was always told to be a stone, an unmovable rock, but now that he had the freedom to be who he wanted, he was an open book.
To my dismay, at the moment he had that cold, unflinching anger resting in those baby blues. My worry increased ten fold, I’d only seen that look when he fell back down a few pegs, having lived the life he’s lived, there were always going to be slip ups, always moments where Bucky would slip away and the soldier would come back, moments where the life would fade from his eyes and things he thought too dark to show me would replace it, memories soaked deep with blood and pain, and even though these moments happened less and less as time went on, it didn’t make them any less horrifying to witness.
A breath I didn’t know I was holding released once he gave my hand two gentle squeezes, a signal this wasn’t an episode and he was still in control, my body instantly relaxed, I folded myself into his side, basking in the warmth that was Bucky, as I waited for him to open up.
Although he seemed relatively okay, he still hadn’t spoken, but I knew better than to rush him into it, so I took the chance to turn towards what had seemed to have gotten so far under his skin, Four figures, A black woman, a hispanic man and two white men sat at a long table discussing the very heavy, very unfortunate, topic of racism in America and how it mirrored the country’s dark past far too much for comfort.
I’d joined in mid debate but I could grasp the gist of that was happening, I’d grown accustomed to the uncomfortable, hot anger that came to me when i watched this kind of stuff, but to my surprise every person on the panel passionately disagreed with the nations handling of its ever growing racism and its inability to deal with it, all but one man.
”Now I’ll be clear here, as a God fearing American it is my right to say how i’m feeling and how i’m feeling is, you people are all too sensitive.” He went on, to the rest of the panels horror, to say how equality was the end of the world and to add the cherry on top of this shit show he ended up referring to the rest of his panel as, and i quote, “Colored loving pansy’s.”
yeah, he was the human embodiment of the feeling you get right before you throw up.
I could only stomach a few minutes of hate speech spewing from his mouth, with a roll of my eyes I snatched the remote from my boyfriend’s hands and turned the channel, much to his dismay.
Yeah that’s enough bullshit for today.
He finally spoke, his tone matched irritated expression.
“Yeah well I can tell you how it was gonna end."
I yawned leaning into the soft cushion, the weight of a hard days work finally seeped into my bones.
“Either he’d continue on with his little hate speech, or he’d get dragged to hell by the remaining three hair follicles hanging on his scalp for dear life.”
He shook his head sitting back into the faux leather cushions, a smirk just barly graced his handsome features.
The hand holding mine began to rub small circles into the back of my skin.
"You’d think I never left the 40’s with this shit happening as much as it is.” He scoffed still staring at the now black screen. I nodded into his shoulder, I knew how angry he could get with all the injustices in the world, after all he did fight in a war against people like this, so I could understand the irritation once seeing that the mindset hadn’t disappeared.
“So that’s what has you so upset?”
He shot me a half smile, his shoulders un-tensing as he brought our laced fingers to his lips.
“Is it that obvious?”
“Well I didn’t get my hug at the door so one could only assume.” He offered me an apologetic smile, before speaking up again.
“I’ve been catching up, like you told me to and,” he sighed, the irritation flaring in his expression again.“-I’m angry.” I tossed my legs over his lap, his free hand subconsciously began to work it’s way over my outstretched limbs, a habit he had when his mind was running a mile a minute.
“It’s pretty crap huh?” I leaned on my hand, watching his facial expressions closely. He gestured to the blank screen with a nudge of his head, a humorless laugh leaving his tight set lips.
“This shit hasn’t stopped happening, I don’t know how it’s continued to go on but I-” the hand rubbing at my legs stopped as he spoke, his prosthetic fingers twitching as his anger rose. “I know what it’s like to live in a world that doesn’t want you, doesn’t appreciate you, but I’ll never know it like you do.” He looked hopeless, and I knew that feeling all too well, watch enough of that kinda crap and the world always look darker. I listened to him rant, a sympathetic smile on my face.
“I’m angry because the world hasn’t changed at all, I’m angry because people like that can walk around freely but innocent, good hearted people get denied the chance of a decent life just because of what they look like-” he huffed cutting himself off.
“I’m angry because it feels like all that fighting and death was for nothing, and like there isn’t a thing I can do to help.”
I sighed removing my legs from his lap and folding them underneath me, grabbing both his hands I made him meet my eye.
“I know how you feel baby- trust and believe I know, and I won’t lie to you it’s not easy, it is frustrating that the world hasn’t changed all that much but it is better than before, and it will keep getting better, because of people like you, people who acknowledge the problem, and want to do something about it.” My thumb traced patterns into the flesh of his cheek as i spoke.
“And because we’ve always made it though we may not all look alike or share the same blood but people who struggle and fall together get back up together just as easy."
He was silent a moment, and I could see the walls of anger he no doubt had been brooding in begin to crack.
“Of course I’m angry, I’m absolutely livid, but I’ve turned that anger into a source of power. People who look like me have always been at the short end of the stick, and let me tell you, acting through strength rather than anger is a hell'uva lot more helpful than letting that rage get the best of us.” He sat there, drinking in my words, so I continued.
“They don’t get our rage, they don’t get our pain, what they get is a calm grace, because in the end, people with hate in their hearts end up alone and angry, and they deserve nothing more than that.”
With a slow nod of his head I could visibly see the stress chipping off his shoulders the more time ticked on. I swooped up to steal a kiss from his unsuspecting lips.
"I meant what i said too, it really helps to have people like you in the world, not everyone is an evil bastard I promise, The world can be good, don’t lose faith too soon. “
He sighed staring down at me, arms wrapping their way around my waist, the butterfly’s he gave me went bonkers as his hands settled gently on my hips, his grip tight but not uncomfortable.
"I know it can be good, it gave me you after all.”
I made a face pushing myself away from the taller man.
"Ew, Buck that was corny!“ I whined, he pulled me back into his embrace,a soft laugh accompanying his action, and as gently as one could, he smashed my face back into his warm chest. I squirmed against his hold until he let me up, the smile was back in his eyes, just where it belonged. I smacked his arm for the dirty move before I leaned forward on my own, finally getting my end of the day hug. He tucked a stray curl away from my face, leaning down to press a warm, slow kiss into my lips.
"Sorry for that- I didn’t mean to get so worked up."
I laughed at his words, pecking his cheek before responding.
"Never apologize for being woke my man."
His goofy smile morphed into absolute confusion.
"What does me being awake have to do with any of this?”
I rolled my eyes at the both literal and figurative old man, rising from his lap with a laugh.
“I’m serious!” He yelled at my retreating figure.
Later that night, the universe blessed me with a moment I’ll treasure as long as I lived, and Buck would cringe at whenever I brought it up, as I woke from bed at a way too early time, I shuffled like a zombie to the fridge for some much needed water, I was surprised to see the soldier standing silently in our kitchen, the only reason I knew it was him was the bright blow light from his phone screen painting his face, I prepared my dry throat to call out to the man, who by the way had no type of business just chilling in our kitchen at 4 AM like that, and question him only to be interrupted by his harsh whisper.
“Siri, what does being woke mean?”
