Just a poll I saw on YouTube this morning. It's the small details that work to give me solace and comfort these days.
For the math disinckined, that translates to 10,200 people who said no, verses the over 200,000 who said yes. It's a truly tiny number, and while there is so much fucked today, especially in the U.S., there are still far more helpers than breakers.
Prompt: Reader is getting stressed with life and Uni, Bucky offers some comfort.
A/N: Especially for @mypalbuck
MasterList
Nothing was going right this week – not a single damned thing was in her favour. Her Uni work was piling up, the lectures were all blurring into one, and Y/N missed learning offline. At first, it hadn't been so bad; everyone had been enjoying lounging around at home. The comforts far outweighing the disruption of not having a University to go to.
Though, it wouldn't be too long before they managed to rebuild it. These were the risks of living in a society with enhanced humans.
Despite trying to make a space to work more productively and move the distractions out of the way, Y/N felt like she was falling behind and then there was life outside of learning. Her connection to the internet was terrible; she'd lost a seven-page essay because of a power cut. And her own inability to press the save icon occasionally. Not to mention all the people she wanted to feed to the damn dog next door that would not stop barking each time she tried to sleep.
Y/N couldn't remember the last whole night of sleep she had had. If it wasn't the barking, then it was her own thoughts disrupting her sleep. What if she failed her course?
Her thoughts and feelings were haunting her throughout the night and meant she was more exhausted than the day before.
She'd lost count of how many times she'd snapped at friends checking in or simply turned her phone to silent.
It wasn't until a particularly blunt text that she realised just how mean she was becoming whilst being crushed with the stress she was under. Y/N had felt her throat constrict, and the blurred phone screen in front of her became difficult to see; putting it down, she grabbed her laptop again and tried to fight off the tears threatening to spill.
When, finally, Y/N took a break, she called her friend to try and distract herself from the tight, uncomfortable coil building up in her stomach. She knew she was going to make herself ill sooner or later with her worrying. They didn't pick up... of course, they didn't. They had a life to live and their lives together.
She would just try to call her boyfriend instead. He was supposed to be back from whatever he was doing in Europe by now.
No answer.
It wasn't such a big deal.
It was just a stupid class, and a stupid dog, and her stupid friends, and her stupid boyfriend and her own stupid head. Things were not that bad, but Y/N found herself hugging her pillow as she cried into it.
The sound of the doorbell and a knock on the door interrupted Y/N mid sob - could she not even cry in peace?!
With a frustrated groan, she crawled out of bed, through her lounge and finally to the door, not checking who it was before she opened it. slate blue eyes met hers, and before she could even stop herself, Y/N pushed herself bodily into Bucky's chest, crying loudly. "Y/N? It's okay... I'm sorry," his arms wrapped around her, holding her close as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head and apologised for not answering the phone less than fifteen minutes before.
Picking up the bag he'd dropped, Bucky walked her backwards toward the sofa. Once there, he sat down and coaxed her to straddle his lap so that he could keep her close. His fingers stroked over her head, and he murmured sweet nothings against her ear until she calmed a little.
He had known something was wrong by the way her text messages read. When he was out on an 'errand' with Sam, she would give him updates and check in on him; sometimes, she would send cute pictures or photos of food she knew he liked. The recent messages had been short and blunt. No images, no teasing him, no update on the magpie drama on her street.
He had been the one texting her more often, and as soon as his plane had hit the tarmac, Bucky headed straight for her place. Stopping for a few of her favourite snacks first.
Y/N began to feel better with his warmth making its way into her limbs; the weight of his arms and the gentle way his fingers touched her made it easier to breathe. Bucky's scent was always calming to her.
Warm and familiar, and safe.
Though she could pick up the faint trace of gunsmoke, and as she loosened her hold of his jacket, she felt a few snags and holes in the leather.
He had come to her straight from his mission.
He hadn't taken the time to go home, shower or change or even rest - the thoughts of him sacrificing his comforts to come to Y/N made her crying start back up. "Oh, Honey." He cooed softly, "I don't like hearing my best girl cry." Bucky pressed more kisses into her skin before settling her on the sofa. At her, almost whine, the man smiled back at her, "I'm just going to the kitchen for a quick minute."
Bucky grabbed her preferred mug and started making her favourite drink. She needed some love and attention; Bucky was happy to provide.
He hated seeing Y/N so fragile, especially when he knew she wasn't and wasn't used to seeing her so upset. Bucky liked her best when she was smiling and sending so many texts that Sam threatened to take his phone from him.
He didn't like seeing her puffy eyes or her wet cheeks or the way she had chewed her lips raw. Has she been this stressed before he had left two weeks before? Had he missed it? This wasn't something that simply happened overnight, and whether he missed it or not, he planned to make it better for her.
Maybe he could talk to her lecturer in a 'friendly' meeting - in a dark alley?
When Y/N was ready, Bucky would listen to her, even the things she thought were mundane or silly. For now, he was content to make her drink and pour the bag of goodies he had brought her onto her lap.
"How about a nice, long bath?" Bucky suggested as he wiped at her face with vibranium fingers, opening his hand when Y/N wanted to nuzzled into his palm. "I'll even wash your back for you and feed you snacks."
Pulling her knees up, Y/N gave a slight nod, "Only if you take a shower and get in with me."
Bucky almost snorted, "I'm not going to fit, doll." At her pout, he sighed and gave a slight tilt of his head, "Alright." With a final kiss to her forehead, the man headed toward the bathroom, though he stopped in the bedroom to collect her favourite lounging clothes and his own spare set. By the time her drink was finished, Bucky was sauntering towards her in nothing but a towel.
He didn't miss the way she looked at him and gave her a lopsided grin, "Come on, you can gawk later." Taking Y/N's hands and kissing the backs of her knuckles, Bucky pulled her up and toward the bathroom. He had left her long enough to put fresh bedding on the bed and throw her towel into the dryer to get warm.
She felt like she didn't deserve him. That she didn't deserve that he had heated the towel or made the bed, that he had lit one of her favourite candles and ushered her to bed after her shower.
Bucky piled up the pillows and got in first, making himself comfortable in preparation for a long cuddling session, and let her curl into him as she pleased.
"How did you know I needed you?" Y/N murmured into his shoulder as her eyes, finally, began to feel heavy as sleep edged its way in.
"I just knew," he kissed the back of her hand as he held it close, "My protective instincts kicked in, and I just knew my girl was needed me."
Bucky wasn't the best at singing, but he could carry a tune whilst humming; the vibration and soft melody soon lulled Y/N to a well-deserved rest. When her breathing evened out, and she became a pleasant weight on his chest, Bucky smiled down at her and sighed, "I just knew."
"We're near the end, but O before the end, as the sparrows wing each night to their secret nests in the elm's green dome let the last bus bring love to lover, let the starveling dog turn the corner and lope suddenly miraculously, down its own street, home."
