How about Smol Tony tryin to reach things on high shelves and Bucky and tchalla fighting over who can get things for him. They get so distracted fighting that they don't notice Tony just using his armor's boots to hover and get the damn thing himself
Holy shit, I adore you! <3 This is a thing of beauty!!! And so fluffy :D
Just imagine the two of them almost falling over themselves trying to help Tony out. It’s not that they don’t think he can get the sugar on his own, alright, it’s just that nothing ever prepares them for smol Tony, stumbling through the kitchen wearing one of Bucky’s washed out sweaters that slips down on one shoulder and the tinkling anklets T’Challa gave him on their six month anniversary, nothing ever prepares them for the pureness of their boyfriend when he doesn’t feel like putting on a mask.
And it wasn’t supposed to be a contest at first, but then Bucky gives T’Challa a playful shove and T’Challa narrows his eyes and pulls out his feet from under him and suddenly there’s an all-out war going on in the kitchen.
Meanwhile Tony is still standing in front of the shelf, tapping his foot against the ground. He’s given up jumping now, he doesn’t even know why he still bothers to try, and is decidedly unimpressed by his boyfriends’ antics. He gives them another minute, but when the first dish breaks, he decides enough is enough.
He clicks his heels together–and so what if a certain movie served as an inspiration–activating the boots and slowly floats up to get the damn sugar himself. It’s a bit shakier than when he has the repulsors in his hands for added stabilisation, but he makes it. Takes one look at his grown up boyfriends–who haven’t even noticed–steps around their fighting forms with a derisive sniff and gets to work.
In the background, Peter is filming the entire thing, but he’s laughing so hard the video is too shaky to be of any worth.
Tony stark x little sister reader where she moves in to the tower to escape from a horrible relationship. Tony asks Bucky to teach her self defense and they end up getting close. He takes her out on a date and they run into her ex. But he sees her with Bucky and gets totally intimidated.
A/N: Thanks for this request! I love it! You can continue sending me requests about whatever you want guys! They’re welcome! I hope you all like this. Also, I wanted to mention that I’ve assumed that “horrible” meant abusive, so I just wanted to portrait one of the infinite types of sequels.
Warnings: Violence, Angst, Mention of physical abuse, Language, Anxiety, Fluff.
“It’s fine, Y/N” Tony said as he grabbed your hand and squeezing it. You suppressed your intention of move it away and nodded, following your brother to the lift, carrying your suitcase.
The doors closed and the lift started to move to the upper floors of the Stark Tower where the Avengers had their apartments. The atmosphere was asfixiating and you felt those familiar symptoms of anxiety. You closed your eyes and started to count to five, synchronising your breathing with it.
“Y/N?” You opened them as your heart pounded against your chest as if it wanted to escape, watching as Tony was observing you with a worried face. “Are you okay? I was talking to you”
“Yeah, yeah…I’m fine”
But he knew you weren’t.
It had been hard for you two. Tony had spent the last two years looking for you, using JARVIS, calling Pepper and even Steve helped him. But you had just disappeared.
It was a few days ago when you contacted him, crying and shouting that he would kill you. That you were safe but you didn’t know how long. Tony had gone with Steve and Sam just in case to the address you had given to him and had found you sitting on the floor, crying and with a black eye.
He packed your belongings and when your boyfriend came back, he found you surrounded by a suitcase and Iron Man by your side. Tony said that he would pick the rest of your things the following day and that he should stay away from him.
“We have a Hulk” He had warned him.
And you left. You were free again.
Free in a world that frightened you. You had spent too much time under his control. Your self-steem was destroyed and Tony knew you’d need time to recover yourself. And he was fine with it. He’d help you.
You were home again.
“So you won him again huh?” Steve smirked as Sam huffed, staring at Bucky, who was preparing himself a sandwich with his lips curved in a grin.
They continued talking as Tony entered the kitchen, making all of them to turn their heads. Bucky tensed and looked at him before going on, trying to disappear from his view.
After the Civil War, Tony and Bucky had been trying to erase their differences even though it was difficult. Steve was hurt watching his two friends like that, but at least they didn’t try to kill each other.
“Keep calm, Frosty. I’m here to mediate a truce” Bucky frowned and looked at Steve who shrugged and left with Sam. Tony sighed and sat on one of the stool near the kitchen island. He interlaced his fingers and raised his head, staring at Bucky. “I need your help”
“What’s going on?” Bucky replied with a neutral voice. He didn’t want to be rude to Tony as he seemed truly helpless.
“It’s my sister. She arrived a few days ago to the Tower” Bucky nodded. He remembered the girl he had met at that time. She was terrified, looking at the ground as she was introduced to the team. The girl had greeted all of them and had disappeared to the room Tony had given to her. “She hasn’t left the room and…I need you”
“I thought that you could teach her self-defense. She…uhm…”Tony bit his lip as he tried to find a way to express himself. “She had a relationship with a piece of shit” Bucky raised his eyebrow at Tony’s frankness but didn’t say anything. It was none of his business. “I think training could be good for her. She would feel confident and her self-steem would improve”
Bucky took a deep breath and looked at the floor, feeling Tony’s gaze on him. After several minutes he raised his head and smiled at him.
You sighed and rolled on your bed, feeling the sheets around your thinner body. You didn’t eat as much as Tony would like but he was okay with watching eating at least something.
Imagine bringing your child out to public for the first time with Chris.
A/N: Here’s the epilogue! Oh my God, it’s always so hard to part with a series. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it, I’m not sure if I’ll be back again with another but we’ll see. I’ll be linking the previous parts here: (Memory Lane - Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5) and (Drunk Minds, Sober Hearts and Baby Fever - Masterlist)
You and Chris smiled as you watched your son look out the tinted window of the limousine; he was utterly mesmerized by the crowds of people waiting to see his father, as well as the rest of the ‘Avengers: Infinity War’ cast. As insane as it was, you and Chris had decided to take your seventeen month old baby to the premiere of Infinity War Part 2.
There were a few reasons that led to the decision: Chris not wanting to be apart from either of you, you not wanting to miss Chris’ premiere, the cast wanting Baby Cap to be apart of the celebration, Chris not wanting to constantly answer the question “when will we see Jack?”, both of you a little sick of the paparazzi trying to get a sneaky shot of your son; the list went on and on. It took a couple nights of discussion before you finally decided that it was time for your child to be introduced to Hollywood. You both agreed that if Ryan and Blake did it with ease, why couldn’t the two of you do it too?
“Daddy, look.” Jack glanced back at Chris as he poked his tiny finger at the window. “People,” he said with a wide grin which made you and Chris smile. “Lots of people.” He said then giggled to himself, making you and Chris chuckle.
It amazed the two of you how smart your son was at seventeen months old; he could speak in full sentences with zero baby talk. You believed it was because your son was a genius, whereas Chris said it was because of your control issues; you spoke to your son like you spoke to other adults, banning baby talk completely because- that was how your mom raised you and your brothers. Whatever the reason, you were both glad your son was the way he was because he made a very good conversationalist and gave both of you the company you needed when the other was working.
The limousine slowed to a stop and Jack gasped excitedly, carefully climbing off the leather seat and padding over to the door. “Let’s go,” he said and yanked at the locked door handle. “Daddy, let’s go. Open the door, please.” He grabbed Chris’ hand and put it on the handle, thinking his father could open what he couldn’t.
“Before I do, we’re going to have to talk man to man.” Chris told Jack. “Okay, buddy?” He asked for confirmation and Jack nodded in response. “There are lots of people here tonight, so you’re going to have to stay with-”
“Is Uncle Seba going to be there?” Jack quizzed.
“Yes, he is.” Chris nodded, chuckling softly. “Now you’re going-”
“What about Auntie Scar?” Jack continued to interrupt his father; Chris glanced at you with a weary smile and you pressed your lips together, suppressing your smile; he clearly got that from you. “Is she going to be there?”
“Yes sweetheart,” you told him, taking his small hands in yours. “They’re all going to be there. Uncle Rob, Uncle Tony, Uncle Chris, Aunt Liz, everyone is going to be there.” You said and he smiled. “Now can you please listen to us while we give out some ground rules?”
“Ground rules,” he nodded and pressed his lips together to show you he was done talking. You turned to Chris with a smug smirk and he scoffed, chuckling softly with a shake of his head. Jack Evans was close with his father, yes, but that boy was definitely your boy.
“You’re going to have to stay close to me and your daddy, okay?” You told him and he nodded. “There are going to be lots of people tonight, if you run off- we won’t be able to find you and that is going to make us very upset. You don’t want to see us upset, do you?” He shook his head. “Good,” you kissed the top of his head.
“But let’s say I do run off,” he began as you pulled away. “By accident,” he quickly added, feigning innocence before that cheeky grin; a splitting image of Chris, really. “Won’t Captain America just be able to find me?” He asked and made both you and Chris burst into laughter.
“You know what, bud.” Chris picked your laughing son up and hooked him onto his side. “I think it’s safer if you just cling onto Captain America tonight.” Jack giggled when Chris tickled him, wrapping his arms around his father’s neck. “You too, beautiful,” he looked over at you with a smile and you nodded, slipping your hand into his.
• • • • • • • •
The crowd unsurprisingly went wild at the sight of the three of you on the red carpet, the surprising thing was how much your son enjoyed the attention; the one trait that he didn’t get from the two of you. He giggled every time he did something cute and got the crowds cheering for him, it definitely got you thinking about what career he was going to pursue when he was older. You and Chris glanced at each other, smiling as you watched your son wave at the cameras; perhaps being made for Hollywood was genetic.
“Chris, Y/N! It’s so good to see you again,” Alexia, a known reporter from Vanity Fair, greeted the both of you with a smile that grew wider when Jack smiled and waved at her. “Hi buddy,” she gave him a small wave. “This must be the famous Jack Evans, it’s very nice to finally meet you.”
“I’m famous?” Jack looked over at you and Chris; the both of you chuckled and nodded. “I’m famous!” He cheered, leaning back and throwing his arms in the air. “Daddy,” he cupped Chris’ face in his small hands, “I’m famous. Did you know that?”
“Do you even know what famous means, bud?” Chris chuckled softly.
“It’s what you and Momma are,” he responded. “And now I’m famous too.”
“He’s adorable,” Alexia commented and you both nodded in agreement. “It’s really nice to see all of you out and about. It’s been a while, especially for you, Y/N.” You nodded. “How has parenthood been treating both of you? Things must be a little chaotic around the house considering-” she gestured to Chris, “you have press and-” she gestured to you, “you’re just getting back into work. I heard you’ve just signed a contract with Paramount writing a drama?” You nodded. “So what’s life like at home? You both look great, by the way.”
“Doesn’t she?” Chris smiled at you.
“Oh stop it,” you looked over at Chris, chuckling, before you turned back to Alexia. “No, things have actually been really smooth sailing at home. Yes, we’ve got a lot on our plates but we’ve got a great family backing us up. Both our parents have been incredibly helpful, Chris’ siblings- Scott and Shana who don’t have kids of their own are always happy to help us with Jack. It also helps that Jack is superbly well-behaved,” you smiled at Jack when he giggled. “And that I’ve got a wonderful husband. We only work because we’re a team, and we are a very good team.”
“A well oiled-” Chris began only to be interrupted by Jack.
“Uncle Seba!” Jack spotted Sebastian and called out excitedly, reaching over Chris’ shoulder; Sebastian opened his mouth and widened his eyes, running over in the most comedic manner to make Jack laugh. “Uncle Seba!” He laughed, clapping his hands.
“Hey Jack Jack.” Sebastian booped his nose and Jack’s laughter grew louder. “You look so handsome in your little suit, I wish I was as handsome as you.” Jack tapped Chris’ shoulder and gestured for him to pass him over to Uncle Seba. “C'mere, bud.” Sebastian held out his arms with a soft chuckle.
“You basically gave a speech and he didn’t interrupt you once, but the second I speak-” Chris shook his head, chuckling as he passed Jack over to Sebastian. “You’re too much like your mom, Jack.” He said, straightened the back of Jack’s little jacket.
“I think he’s too much like you,” you disagreed, leaning into Chris as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “You always said you were a momma’s boy, right?” You whispered into his ear and he chuckled. “I guess this is payback for how you made your dad feel.”
“Look, who’s that?” Sebastian bounced Jack in his arms as he pointed at Anthony who was finishing up an interview a few meters down. “It’s Mack Attack, do you want to go say hi?” He asked Jack who immediately nodded. “Let’s-” He stopped himself when he remembered Jack wasn’t his kid and his parents were standing right there. “Can we?” He asked, his eyes as wide and innocent as your son’s.
“Please?” Jack pleaded. “Can we, please?”
“What do you think?” You looked over at Chris and he sighed, chuckling.
“Captain America would trust Bucky Barnes,” you heard Sebastian whisper into Jack’s ear.
“Captain America would trust Bucky Barnes,” Jack repeated for his father to hear and you all laughed. “Please, Daddy? Please can I go? I promise I won’t run off, I’ll stay with Uncle Seba until I see you and Momma again.”
“I’ll take good care of him,” Sebastian assured the both of you.
“Fine,” Chris finally caved. Sebastian and Jack grinned at each other and started to make their way over to Anthony, who had spotted them and was now grinning too. “If you lose him, Sebastian Stan, don’t bother coming back.” Chris called after them and earned a two finger wave from both boys, making you laugh.
“Relax,” you gently rubbed his back.
“Gee, thanks,” he bit sarcastically and you chuckled.
“Do you need a distraction?” You asked. “I’ve got some Gummi Bears in my clutch.”
“I think I’d much rather a kiss.” He told you and smiled when you leaned in, pressing your lips against his. You felt him smile as you smiled yourself. “Yeah,” he breathed when he broke it, resting his forehead against yours. “Much better.”
“Higher, higher!” You heard your son cheer and both of you turned in their direction; Anthony was now holding Jack, and tossing him in the air. Chris gasped whereas you chuckled. “Higher, Uncle Tony!” He squealed with delight as he was tossed up again.
“Mackie!” Chris pulled away from you and jogged over, leaving you behind. “How many times have I told you not to toss my son in the air! Hey, stop! Sebastian, I trusted you to keep him safe. That is not keeping him safe!”
“He’s a protective dad, isn’t he?” Alexia quizzed, laughing softly.
“Did we really expect him to be anything less?” You responded, smiling.
T'challa and Bucky doting over Tony pls,,, with cheek kisses and surprise hugs and cuddling together on the couch,,,they both want Tony to sit on their lap so Tony always ends up sitting sideways so he's on both of them
All the softness I could have ever wanted *sighs contently* I can’t really think of a full scene right now, but here’s what I think (some of them are probably classics by now but there’s a damn good reason for that and, more importantly, I don’t care):
Tony always sleeps in the middle. It works well, because his boyfriends prefer being able to get out of the bed in half a second–and keep Tony from running off to engineer in the middle of the night–and Tony just feels so much safer when he’s surrounded by their warmth.
Bucky loves massaging Tony. It started out as more of a therapeutic activity–doing something with his hands that’s not killing, and all that–but he’s not just getting pretty good at it, now he also genuinely enjoys it. Especially with how easily Tony melts into his touches, and how often he really needs one, with all those hours spent bowed over papers and projects.
T’Challa loves doing all these small, affectionate gestures that make Tony flush and say crude things to distract everyone and himself from how touched he is. He likes kissing Tony’s fingers when he hands him stuff, likes placing butterfly kisses all over Tony’s face, likes to press their foreheads together and simply breathe the same air, likes to embrace Tony whenever possible (and appropriate) (and sometimes when it’s not too)
The wars over who’s lap Tony sits on are legendary. No dirty trick is too low. And you better believe that the rest of the team frequently bets on the outcome. Until Tony finds out about it and promptly sits on Clint’s lab for a week. (They are a lot more subtle after that.)
When one of them is gone, he always comes back bearing gifts. It doesn’t matter whether it was un undercover mission in Austria, a business meeting in Japan, an important political gala in South Africa. They always come back with something small for their lovers (and often manage to call in between, but don’t tell Fury)
Summary: Bucky AU. After a major deal falls through, your father’s business almost falls apart. In a desperate attempt to save his livelihood, he seeks the help of his oldest friend, George Barnes, who happens to be the CEO of one of the most influential businesses in New York. He agrees, but on one condition. You have to marry his son.
Word Count: 1,359
Neither of you had slept that night. You were wrapped in each other’s embrace until the moment Bucky had to leave. You had insisted on going to the airport with him, despite his protests that it wasn’t necessary. You wanted to, though. You couldn’t let him leave on his own.
There was a time when you prayed that he would be sent away on business, but things had changed so much in so little time. You wanted to show him that you were serious, to reassure him that your relationship would survive even despite the distance.
A/N: Oof. This idea struck me like lightning. I’ve been working on another fic but felt a little stuck. This one flowed out of me in the space of a few hours. I freaking love Journey and this story! I’ve sacrificed quite a bit of sleep to finish, so I hope it was worth it!! Please let me know your thoughts! Love you guys!! :)
Brushing your fingertip over perfect round cheeks while marveling at gorgeous long lashes and her tiny pout, you fell in love all over again. This little person had your heart. Well. A good portion of it. Speaking of your heart…
You heard rustling in the next “room” followed by the partition sliding aside. Bucky stumbled out of the bedroom, rubbing a hand over his face. His chin-length hair stuck out in ten different directions and he was clad in only a pair of boxers.
“Morning, handsome,” you greeted him with an amused smile.
He let out a groan, “What time is it?”
“And…where are we?”
You chuckled, “Somewhere in the midwest, I think. St. Louis, maybe?”
Looking to your bedside table, the illuminated digits of the clock pull a groan from your lips as you toss your head back. It was 3am and you couldn’t go back to sleep. Throat feeling hoarse and with a dry tongue, you admit defeat as you lift back the covers and swing your legs over the side of your bed.
With a sigh, you walk out of your room in the compound and make your way down the halls of the sleeping quarter.
Tony had noticed you when you were an agent working for
SHIELD. You didn’t know this at the time but he was keeping an eye on you and
during the HYDRA/SHIELD fiasco, you and handful of other agents worked to help
end the programme.
After Natasha had leaked the files, you continued to work
with the Avengers, helping navigate them through missions, hack in to
programmes and gain any intel that would aid them. You thought that was coming
to an end when Tony got back from Siberia because you didn’t hear from any of
Rumours of what happened soon spread amongst the few of you
that were bought in to help from time to time. But this wasn’t something you
ever expected. The Avengers were no longer a team.
Summary: Your’s and Bucky’s relationship is kept a secret, although it made the sex incredibly hot, not being able to hold your hand or taking you out on public dates took a toll on Bucky.
Warnings: angst, light smut (fingers and oral -reader receiving-)
A/N: I just really wanted to write a super angsty fic. I hope you enjoy it! Not my best fic but this has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for months now and I really wanted to finish it and get it out there. Not every fic is perfect and I accept that, I hope you guys do, too :)
The bass of the music shook the walls of the tower as people danced and drank, grinding on each other while swooning over the Avengers. Sam’s birthday party was in full swing and instead out enjoying the festivities you were stuck in your bedroom with Bucky. For once, you wished you were anywhere but there. You were having a fight.
Bucky had spent the first half of the party watching your entanglement with one of Sam’s friend, Alex. Bucky watched as the two of you danced, hugged, held hands, and occasionally snuggle on the couch. Bucky finally snapped when Alex dropped his head down and placed a tender kiss on your lips.
And I guess by writing this, I officially come out of the shadows. Yes Delilah, I am your 💎, your diamond anon lol. Hi!
Heart on My Sleeve
For several months now, you were hearing Bucky’s incessant musings on the subject of tattoos. They weren’t as common in his era as they are now. Back then, soldiers used them more as identifiers instead of the general population. But now, Bucky couldn’t walk down the street without bumping into someone who had some kind of ink etched on their skin.
And if he was being entirely honest with himself, you were a big reason that inspired his decision. The first time you two slept together was the first time he had seen your tattoo. Moments in between your passionate lovemaking, he’d trace his finger, both flesh and metal, along the ink on your upper thigh, utterly hypnotized by the simple swirl.
“Why a swirl?” He asked.
“It’s stupid,” you sheepishly admitted.
“Come on doll, tell me,” Bucky insisted.
And so, you divulged to Bucky your vulnerability. You explained to him how the tattoo was actually covering an array of overlapping scars from years of cutting yourself. He knew about your longstanding battle with crippling depression. But what he didn’t know was that you used to indulge in self harm.
Right around the time that you started getting better was the time you fell in love with the Harry Potter series. And you had heard in interviews with JK Rowling that she had based the dementors in the third book off her own battle with depression. Malevolent creatures that sucked the happiness out of your very soul could be destroyed with the power of a happy memory. But by no means did that mean it’d be easy. The charm that repelled dementors required great concentration. “I mean, how could it not? Your very soul is being sucked out of you, you’re wishing for death, and you’re supposed to think of something that makes you happy?” you told Bucky. But there was something about that message that resonated deeply with you. That there’s this simplicity in believing that if you were happy once before, why couldn’t that be hope enough that you could be happy again.
“But why the swirl?” Bucky asked. You laughed and explained that it’s believed by Harry Potter fans that each spell has its own hand movement along with its incantation. The swirl was supposedly the hand movement, nothing confirmed but enough to convince you, you explained. “So, there you go!” you laughed. Now whenever your depression threatened to get the best of you, reducing you to the urges to self harm again, you simply traced your finger along the swirl of your tattoo and reminded yourself that there were happy memories in your life worth holding on to, and many more happy memories to come.
“It’s a way of looking toward my future while honoring my painful past. There’s beauty in seeing how far you’ve come. I guess I’ve come to accept that maybe I’m not supposed to forget what happened to me but having strength in not letting it define me. It’s made me who I am today.”
After hearing that story, how could Bucky possibly come up with his own idea for a tattoo? He didn’t want any dime a dozen tattoo after hearing your story. He wanted his tattoo to mean something as well.
Grabbing a beer from the fridge, Bucky sauntered over to the couch and settled in. He took out a legal pad and began scribbling his ideas. The date he met you? The date you both told each other ‘I love you’ for the first time? Your name written in Romanian? After all, he did meet you in Bucharest when Steve finally found him during that mess with the Accords. Maybe the coordinates of Coney Island, the place he and Steve spent so much of their youth at when they were just kids in Brooklyn and before everything in their lives turned so damn complicated? The date he asked you to marry him and you said yes? The date you found out you were pregnant?
Technically they were all great possible ideas, but none of them resonated with him. He loved every single one of those moments with you, and with Steve. But when he heard your choice of word ‘resonate’, it just put all the more pressure on him. He was just about to give up for the afternoon when he heard the faint sound of the door unlocking. Tossing a glance over at the clock in the kitchen, it was just about that time that you’d be arriving home with your daughter after picking her up from preschool. Bucky got up and tossed the beer bottle in the trash just as the door swung completely open.
Greeted by the sight of a wide toothless smile, Bucky lowered to the ground, balancing himself on the balls of his feet and held his arms out.
“Daddy!!!” your daughter cried out, dropping her ladybug backpack on the floor ungraciously before running to Bucky, the sound of yours and his laughter echoing through the house before you closed the door and followed your daughter’s suit.
“Hey princess!” he said with equal enthusiasm, sweeping her up into his arms and planting a great big kiss on her cheek, followed by kissing you on the lips. “How was my girl’s day at school today?”
“Great daddy! I wanna show you something!” She giggled, squirming until Bucky set her back down on the floor.
The tiny tot grabbed Bucky’s metal hand and pulled him toward the coffee table where he had left the legal pad. She fished around for any writing device she get her hands on. Taking pity on her, Bucky grabbed the pen he was using earlier that was only a few feet away from her and placed it in front of her. The two of you sat on the couch as your daughter bent her tiny body over and leaned on the coffee table, writing what you could only imagine. When she was finished, she pulled back and moved to the side so you and Bucky could see what she did. In big handwriting was the name of your daughter perfectly scrawled out on the paper. The “e’s” and the “c’s” weren’t backwards. The “b” wasn’t confused for “d”, “p”, or “q”. There on the paper was name “Rebecca”, written perfectly by your daughter.
“I’m so proud of you babydoll!” Bucky said, picking Rebecca up and placing her on his lap. “You finally wrote your name perfectly. You did this in school today?”
“Yeah,” Rebecca blushed. “Teacher said she was so proud. Said I’ve been working really hard.”
“It shows princess,” Bucky beamed.
And nothing had ever been truer. While only four years old and in preschool, you and Bucky could already tell your Rebecca Winifred Barnes was going to be a perfectionist student. Nothing would be peaceful until she nailed anything she was working on.
That night while you were preparing dinner, you watched as your daughter kept practicing writing her name on any surface she could get her hands on, with Bucky looking on every bit the proud father he was. There’d been a time when he believed that these type of moments would never have been possible for him. That the former deadly Soviet assassin and fist of HYDRA would find freedom, peace, and especially love was a foreign concept to him. And yet there it had been. He was on his knees beside your daughter, a bright and exuberant smile in its purest form on his face. He looked at Rebecca as though she created the stars in the sky herself. A former assassin who was good at masking his emotions around his team could never hide how he really felt when he was around his daughter. When it came to Rebecca, Bucky really did wear his heart on his sleeve.
That following morning, Bucky showed up to your work, his flesh bicep bandaged.
“Babe! What happened? Oh my god are you hurt?” You shrieked, running over to check his arm.
Bucky just laughed and kissed your forehead. “I’m fine doll. I just came back from the tattoo parlor,” he said proudly.
“You finally decided on a tattoo?” you smiled. “That’s great. Though I wish you’d told me. I could’ve gone with you.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, I guess I was just really excited about it,” Bucky shrugged.
“Well show me,” you encouraged.
Knowing Bucky couldn’t take the bandage off just yet, he took his phone out and scrolled through his pictures until he found what he’d been looking for. He turned the camera over to your possession and you marveled at your husband’s new tattoo, tears brimming in your eyes. Written on the inside of his bicep was your daughter’s name, Rebecca. In her own handwriting, permanently etched into Bucky’s arm.
“Now my heart is literally on my sleeve,” Bucky gushed.
“You know she’s just going to love this!” You agreed. “I’m curious though. What inspired this?”
Bucky smiled and reverently kissed your lips. “There’s beauty in seeing how far you’ve come. I guess I’ve come to accept that maybe I’m not supposed to forget what happened to me but having strength in not letting it define me. It’s made me who I am today,” he replied, echoing your words from all those years ago from the first time you two had slept together.
“Bucky I said that a long time ago. It’s been years. And you remembered?”
“You were the reason I did this in the first place,” Bucky said, as though it were the easiest thing in the world to understand. “Of course I’d remember.”
“I love you James Buchanan Barnes.”
“I love you too Y/N Barnes.”
A/N: If you see a strikethrough in your URL, it’s because I couldn’t tag you. I tried and for some reason it wouldn’t let me. Please don’t think I didn’t want to tag you, and if there’s anyone I forgot to tag, please let me know so I can fix it right away.
Not that anyone cares, but Y/N’s tattoo is actually based on my own, so that’s why I went into such depth in detail. And that was actually me holding back. Lol.
Also, really quick, please don’t take this mean that I’m bashing or judging anyone who has a tattoo that doesn’t have some “deep resonating significance”. I realize not everyone has tattoos like that, and I completely respect anyone’s right to choose the type of tattoo they want. The choice of tattoo/tattoo backstory was just based on my own experience because it was easier for me to write it that way. That’s it.
“Wh-what?” you stammer, your eyes widening. That was the
last thing you expected but you scold yourself for not having expected it. This was Natasha.
“How long? A few days, right? Tell me I’m not losing my
touch” she finally looks up at you with a wink and the undeniable fact settles
in; there’s no way you could convince her that she’s wrong.
With a groan, you fall back on to the bed, covering your
face with your arm as you hear Natasha’s laugh before the bed dips beside you
and she takes a seat.
“Don’t beat yourself up about it, it’s not your fault. I’m
just too good at what I do” she teases, softly slapping your thigh and you
grunt, pushing her hand off as you sit up. But you couldn’t blame her for
noticing and a small smile soon appeared on your lips.
“Does anyone else know?” your voice is quiet, almost scared
to hear the answer. Imagining how relentless the teasing would be was unbearable.
She scoffs. “This lot? No chance, they’re oblivious” and her
words ease your mind.
You’re on the verge of sleep, just moments away from slipping into the euphoric slumber you’ve been craving since you woke up this morning, when your phone rings. Just like that, the tendrils of unconsciousness release their hold on your mind and disappear without any farewells or second glances. You groan angrily, both at yourself for not putting your phone on silent and at the person who’s chosen to call you this late at night. You want to ignore the call out of spite, but there’s no reason to. Sleep has evaded you and you’re officially wide-awake, again.
“Yes?” You say into the phone, having accepted the call without bothering to check the caller ID. You’re hoping that, if you keep your eyes closed, you’ll be able to trick your body into getting back to sleep.
“Did I wake you up?”
You don’t have to pull your phone away from your ear to identify the caller. You heard this voice only a couple of hours ago. But at that time, it wasn’t swimming in remorse like it is now. “Bucky?”
Can you do a fic where pietro is an ass to the reader and she is like best friends with Bucky? And pietro is mean because he’s jealous of their relationship but one time he takes it too far and he never gets her? Thanks- Anon /// I was wondering if you could do a fic where the reader has feelings for Bucky but pietro is an asshole to the reader? But then Bucky says he loves reader and pietro gets all mad? Sorry if this is hard to understand - @lucihaspie
Note: hi guess who’s back. back again. ya girl. ok so I put these two together, I hope that’s okay! this took a while and I apologize! feedback is more than welcome and thanks so much for the request! .c
You and Bucky have been best friends basically since he arrived at the tower. You were bold in trying to get him to be your friend, and he warmed up to you one night after you let him vent to you about what went on in his mind.
He knew he could confide in you and come to you about anything. You knew you’d never match up to his friendship with Steve, but it was pretty damn close. You had to admit, you’ve actually fallen for the super soldier.
There was an issue though, you were bold, but not bold enough to tell Bucky how you really feel. So, you leave it hidden in the back of your mind, closed off until the right moment. If that would ever come. Most days, you had an annoying pest called Pietro to keep those feelings and thoughts at bay.
You had just gotten back from a mission, tired and covered in mud and grime. Your joints hurt and you had cuts littered all over your body. Though the mission was a success, you had Pietro yelling in your ear every step you took about how you almost messed it all up, even though you really didn’t.
The team followed behind you and Pietro, watching him scream at you. “You’re stupid! An idiot! You could have gotten me shot!” Pietro yelled with his thick accent, his arms flailing around. You bit your tongue, tasting the metallic iron rising to the surface from biting so hard. You stared straight ahead, trying to drown out the man yelling at the top of his lungs at you.
You heard heavy footsteps approaching and someone shoved Pietro to the ground, just to have him speed back to his feet. “Enough! She didn’t do a damn thing wrong! I am tired of you acting like she’s nothing! Leave her alone!” You heard Bucky yell at Pietro. The two were toughing noses and both breathing heavily. “Hit me. Go on, if you’re so tough.” Pietro spat menacingly as Bucky’s metal hand clenched.
Wanda stepped in between the two, both of their chests crowding her. “If anybody hits anyone, it’ll be me hitting the both of you. Stop it.” Wanda ordered, staring up at her brother’s face. Bucky growled and you heard his arm whirring.
He stomped off towards your direction and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his side as he placed his lips on your head. Pietro watched as you two walked off, his fists clenched.
A few hours had passed and you were all cleaned up. You were relaxing in the common room on the couch with Bucky, your head in his lap. Bucky’s hand was raking through your hair, gently scratching and massaging your scalp. You hummed in content with your eyes shut and Bucky stared down at you, a smile on his face. “That feel good?” Bucky asked, his voice just above a whisper.
You nodded gently as you opened your eyes to look at Bucky. He was staring down at you and you immediately blushed. Bucky chuckled, his body gently moving against you. “You’re cute when you blush.” Bucky said, caressing your hairline, letting his hand move down the length of your hair. “Are you serious? She’s not cute at all.” You heard Pietro’s annoying voice chime in.
Bucky’s head snapped towards Pietro, his jaw clenched. “Might wanna get your eyes checked.” Bucky grumbled, his hand ceasing it’s movement. You sighed and sat up, leaning against Bucky’s chest.
A loud “ha” escaped from Pietro’s mouth. “My eyes work perfectly fine,” He said with a smug grin, taking a seat in the chair near the sofa, “I can see that Nat’s a goddess. Y/N? Nowhere near.” Pietro finished, his fingers tapping speedily against the arms of the chair.
You swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat. You had confided in Bucky one night about how insecure you felt about yourself and how you thought Natasha was better in basically every area. Bucky told you that he thought you were perfect and you should never talk so lowly of yourself.
You tried to move off of Bucky, but his arm slithered around your waist, holding you against him. Bucky sighed heavily. “Pietro, do us a favor and just leave, please.” Bucky snapped, his voice wavering between angry and calm.
You sank into Bucky’s hold, feeling your face heat up. “Okay, tell me this, Barnes. Who would you choose between Nat and Y/N?” Pietro asked, causing Bucky’s breathing to stop and you to sit and wait for his answer.
Your heart was thumping in your ears as Bucky stayed silent. You shoved yourself off of Bucky, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Pietro’s arm stuck out as you walked by him and he gripped your wrist. “Don’t touch me.” You spat, yanking your hand from him.
Bucky stood to his feet, watching you two. Pietro smirked at you, his eyes staring into your watery ones. You saw a flash of something in his eyes, but you couldn’t place your finger on it. It almost looked like guilt, sadness, and pain. But you knew he could never feel bad about how he treated you.
Pietro shrugged and chuckled. “So, you know I’m right then.” Pietro said to Bucky as you walked away, not being able to handle standing there any longer. You weren’t there to see Bucky snatch Pietro up by his shirt and defend your honor, telling Pietro how you felt about yourself and how much he loved you. You didn’t see the anger take place in Pietro.
You ran to your room, shoving past a team member every now and then. Steve finally stopped you in your hallway, he had been in Wanda’s room, discussing Pietro earlier and what they should do to stop it for good. “Y/N?” Steve asked, his blue eyes observing your current state. You sniffled and looked at your shoes. “C-Captain.” You said, your voice breaking.
Steve stepped closer to you, his finger lifting your chin. “Y/N, you can call me Steve off duty. Tell me what’s wrong.” Steve said with a slight frown, wiping your tears. Your lip quivered and you threw yourself into Steve’s arms, sobbing into his navy blue shirt. “Pietro.” He said with a firm voice, he was all too familiar with this. His arms tightened around you before he pulled away.
You choked on another sob and Steve held your arms. “I’ll be back. Go to Wanda, talk to her, please.” Steve said before he placed a kiss to your forehead. You nodded and he left, his strides long and angry. You stood in front of Wanda’s door and she turned to you. “Hey Y/N-” She gasped at your wet cheeks and puffy eyes. “Again?” She asked, shaking her head as she walked over to you and hugged you.
You sighed into the hug, your arms holding her. “He’s so mean all the time.” You whispered as you felt Wanda’s hands rubbing your back. “I tell him to stop, he just doesn’t listen.” Wanda said softly, “Y/N, there’s something you should know.” Wanda said as she pulled back from you. You listened closely.
Wanda sighed and looked around her room, as if she were searching for what to say. “My brother is jealous of your relationship with Bucky.” Wanda finally said and your eyebrows creased together. “Wh-why? Why would that give him any reason to treat me so horribly?“ You questioned as you felt the anger in your stomach start to boil. You watched Wanda’s face as she gave you a look.
Wanda shook her head, her hair falling from behind her ear. “I-I think he likes you.” Wanda said, almost whispered. Your mouth fell open and you took a step backwards. Pietro treated you horribly because he was jealous and likes you? Who the hell does that? How is that right at all? You scoffed and wiped angry tears away, leaving Wanda’s room.
She rushed after you and grabbed your wrist. “Y/N! Please, don’t-” You turned to her. “What? Don’t hurt him?” You spat, squinting your eyes at her. She recoiled and frowned. She nodded and tucked her lips between her teeth before responding. “I can’t stop you.” She said, meeting your eyes. You scoffed. “No, you can’t.” You said before stomping away.
Your anger was something you hardly act on but now, you just wanted to lash out. You breathed in and out heavily, ignoring the sudden lightheaded wave that hit you. You took the elevator up to the common room and heard Bucky yelling already. No doubt at Pietro. You walked in cautiously, listening.
Bucky growled, shaking his head. “You’re the biggest piece of-of CRAP! You profess love but treat her like she’s nothing!? Yo-you-” Bucky pointed at Pietro, “are a waste of her time!” He yelled, his voice growing hoarse. Pietro was standing still, his shoulders slumped. You walked in and gained the attention of everyone. Wanda walked in beside you now.
You bit back your anger, deciding to spare Pietro your own wrath. Pietro turned to you and Bucky looked like he had been crying. Your heart sank as you walked up to Pietro. You looked up at him and he was about to speak, until your hand flew up and across his cheek. You heard gasps fall from the mouths in the room. Pietro held his reddened cheek and wiggled his jaw.
His eyes filled with tears and he looked down at you. Your hand stung but you shook it off, straightening your back and shoulders. “I deserved that.” Pietro said softly. You scoffed and shook your head. “You deserve a lot worse after everything you did to me.” You said, your voice smaller and weaker than you wanted it to be.
Pietro clenched his jaw and nodded, his cheek slightly swelling. “I, uh, guess you don’t feel the same, huh?” Pietro asked you, his eyes meeting yours. You shook your head, looking up at him. “No.” You said before turning on your heel and making your way back to your room.
Back in the common room, Bucky walked over to Pietro. “You fucked up. But at least she has someone to treat her right and who loves her.” Bucky said, walking away. Pietro scoffed and chuckled, getting angry again. Before he could speed over and give Bucky a swift punch to the face like he wanted, Wanda trapped him in her red shield.
Bucky kept walking, taking the elevator to your room.
You were sitting on your balcony with your legs dangling through the openings, letting the cold wind dry your fresh tears. You wiped at your cheeks and inhaled shakily, a little sob breaking through your mouth.
You couldn’t believe that someone would treat you so horribly and say such mean things to you, cutting you down to nothing but insecurities, and say they like you. You just couldn’t believe it.
You heard your balcony doors open, not able to see who it was as you stared down at the busy city far beneath you. “Wanda, if you’re here to scold me for slapping your brother, I’m not going to apologize.” You said through your sobs. “I was going to say it was pretty impressive, though I expected a punch.” You heard Bucky say with a small chuckle.
You couldn’t help but blush at the sound of his voice. You felt him pick you up by your waist, pulling you from the railing. You turned to Bucky and shivered from the gust of wind, your hair whipping into your face. He tucked it behind your ear and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You let Bucky take you back inside of your room, shutting the balcony doors.
You sat on your bed, leaning against your headboard. Bucky sat beside you and pulled you onto his lap. “Y/N, please don’t cry.” Bucky whispered, cradling your head onto his shoulder.
You sniffled and held in your tears, a tired sigh escaping your lips. “I just don’t know how-I mean, he-” You sobbed again, shaking your head. Bucky held you closer and shushed you gently. He rocked you back and forth, his own heart breaking at your tears.
You sat in silence, listening to Bucky’s slow and steady breathing. You played with his metal fingers, finding comfort in the cold. Bucky placed kisses along your head, his flesh hand drawing random shapes on your thigh. “I love you, Y/N.” Bucky suddenly whispered, leaning his chin on your head. You stopped your movements and your breath hitched in your throat.
You sat up and turned in Bucky’s lap, straddling him as your eyebrows creased. “What?” You asked, your voice soft. You stared into Bucky’s eyes and he held your waist, his thumbs rubbing the small bit of exposed skin from your shirt riding up. Bucky smiled and looked at your face, studying every inch of it as if he would forget it.
Bucky inhaled nervously. “I love you.” Bucky repeated, his eyes searching yours. Your mouth fell open a tad as you processed what he just said. “But, earlier you didn’t say who you’d choose, I assumed you said Natasha after I left.” You said, looking away from Bucky’s eyes. “No, I’d choose you any day. I just didn’t know what to say, Pietro was pissing me off.” Bucky explained, rubbing your sides.
You looked up at Bucky again and looked at his lips. You leaned in slowly, building the courage to finally tell Bucky how you felt. “I love you too, Bucky.” You whispered before closing the distance between your lips and his. Bucky smiled into the kiss and pulled you closer, his metal hand cradling your head gently.
Your lips moved against each others perfectly as your hands found his long locks, gently raking through them. Your stomach flipped with happiness and you realized that you belonged with Bucky and nothing would change that.
Note: FEEDBACK PLEASE? I LOVE KNOWING YOU ENJOY MY WRITINGS .c
Pairing: Bucky X Black OC/Reader (BUT EVERYONE CAN READ)
Rating: Mature (NSFW for certain chapters)
Warnings: Angst, Smut, Mentions of Death, Language,
Word Count: 2019
A/N: So, this is the next to the last chapter (there will be an epilogue). Thanks to everyone who’s read this little angsty mess, left love and comments and reblogged. I don’t know how or why I wrote this but, sheeeesh, I am emotionally drained. If you don’t know the song this story was inspired by, have a listen to Georgica Pond, by Johnnyswim.
Cuz Time is the worst kind of friend
Always there ‘til you need it
But gone in the end
In the almost two months that they’ve been at this, the kids have developed a kind of routine. It gives Bucky some semblance of solace, while filling him with a near heart wrenching grief.
They have their mother’s spirit, that’s for certain. They have her unflinching will and inability to give up even when it all seems like such a lost cause. And he knows that without them - without their smiles, their laughter, without them to hold his pieces together - without Naya’s mothering, without Grant’s humor, without Lizzie’s little hand finding its way into his own, he would have most assuredly given up by now.
Whether through some unspoken understanding, he can’t say he’s been any kind of a decent parent to them lately, or if they’ve simply worked out a schedule amongst themselves, they each spend some time with their mother.
However, at least once a week they gather together and have ‘family’ night, where they all convene in their mother’s room and behave as if nothing has changed. As if it’s any old night and they’ve simply crowded into their parents bedroom to enjoy some quality time with them, a habit that hadn’t changed over the years, no matter how old or ‘cool’ the kids thought they were.
Tonight is no different. Naya ushers him out the room, makes him swear to get something on his stomach, and he returns to find them circled around his wife. Naya is sort of curled up at the top of the bed with her mother’s head cradled in her lap; Lizzie has made a spot for herself next to her mother’s hip and has just begun painting the older woman’s nails; Grant, who has grown into a leaner, darker version of his father, is perched on the edge of Bucky’s chair, his long fingers curled around his mother’s wrist where it lay atop her favorite, multicolored dragonfly quilt.
And they’re talking, simply talking, laughing quietly now at something Grant has said, and it all feels so normal, so… familiar, that he nearly drops the cup of coffee in his hand as he starts to back out of the room.
There’s a hard something in his chest. He can’t breathe around it. It sticks and pokes at him, and blurs the edges of his vision. Has him rushing down the corridor on trembling legs, past the nurses station and the curious gazes of the night shift staff, through two sets of sliding glass doors and out onto the wide balcony which juts out from the side of the building and is reserved for visitors. The coffee cup drops, the liquid inside splashing his pant leg.
There’s panic and dread filling up inside him, terrible and dark, and there’s no her to clear it away.
He’s not going to make it; he’ll die if she doesn’t pull through this because there is no way he’ll be able to exist, be able to live, without her light. Which is almost laughable, and he does laugh, weak and watery, the sound drifting off into the night. He’s got a metal arm and he’s 100 years old and he’s been through some horrible shit, been the cause of just as much horrible shit, but he’s sure he’ll die if…
Oh, but love is stronger than it
Love is stronger than it
Bucky coughs, blinks away the tears clouding his vision before turning to find Sam standing just this side of the balcony doors. His face is soft in the low light, his dark eyes gleaming and watchful.
“Are you…?” he starts, then shakes his head, knowing the question is stupid. Pointless. Shoves his hands into his pockets. “You rushed right by me,” he chooses instead.
The dark thing in Bucky’s chest loosens a bit. “Sorry. The kid’s are with her. Wanted to give ‘em some time.”
They both know it’s a lie; Bucky wouldn’t leave her side unless forced to do so, but Sam doesn’t call him on it.
Sam moves forward, slow strides bringing him up beside his friend, who wasn’t always his friend, a mere few inches separating the space between them.
They’re silent, watching the sky, the handful of stars visible just beyond the city lights, dim against the inky black. Bucky pulls in a slow, shaking breath.
“She’s…” Sam starts. Then, stops again and Bucky can almost feel him choosing his next words. He tenses, waiting, because so many people have tried to talk to him, to offer suggestions on how he should deal with this, all meaning well but never understanding.
He doesn’t give Sam the chance to speak, the words coming out before he’s even decided to do so.
“She said she’d always be with me.”
Yeah, love is
much stronger than it
He blinks against a memory, the hazy vision of her darkened bedroom the night he’d proposed to her. He remembers being downright terrified of the future but unwilling to conceive of one without her. “She said, if she could help it, she’d always be -”
His voice breaks, so he stops. Reaches out and curls his hands, both flesh and blood and glinting metal, around the low railing. From the corner of his eye he can see Sam nodding.
“She meant that. She’s strong and she’s stubborn…”
Sam is being … generous, and Bucky laughs softly.
“I’ll get the kids home.”
“God,” Bucky huffs, leaning back and raking a hand through his hair. “I’m fuckin’ this all up. My kids… She left for three days once, went to visit her Ma, and I nearly burned the damn house down.” He takes another deep breath. “Now …”
So if you’re ever like me
Daydreaming how different this life would be
Sam’s hand on his shoulder keeps the rising panic at bay. The other man doesn’t speak for a long moment, but the pressure of his hand there is reassurance enough amid the silence.
“I’ll get the kids home.”
He follows Sam back they way they came. The kids are saying their goodnights, never goodbye, and he hugs each one in turn, holding on much tighter, much longer, than usual. He thinks he can feel her there, in his children's’ embrace. Her warmth. Her light. Her love.
Lizzie holds on to him the longest. Gazes up at him with the most peaceful look on her lovely, tawny face.
“You ok, Bug,” he asks, using the nickname he’d given her what seems like so long ago. She’s 18, a college student, but he’s still her baby girl.
“You done good, Pop,” Lizzie replies, her voice a low rasp of sound. “You’ve always been so good at keepin’ her safe.”
He thinks his heart stops before it jumpstarts again, and he wonders how she knows how he’s been beating himself up for not being there when she needed him the most. Wonders if she knows just how much their mother has protected him over the years.
He tries to speak. Fails. Finally manages to croak out, “I love her, Bug. So much.”
Lizzie smiles. She pats him solidly on the back, her strength surprising him, before slipping out of his hold and following her siblings out the door, leaving him alone with his silent, sleeping wife.
A long moment passes, during which time Bucky attempts to breathe. Tries to get his feet back under him. The echo of his children’s voices, Lizzie’s words, moving through him, lingering around him, as if the room itself is reluctant to let it all go.
Finally, he reclaims his chair. Adjusts it just so and gazes down at his wife. Lizzie has painted her nails a bright, neon blue and it looks good against the backdrop of her dark skin.
If the ones you loved most
Hadn’t taken their leave
He takes her hand. Links his metal fingers through hers. Stares a long time at her wedding ring. Turns it this way and that to watch the light sparkle in it.
He decides he won’t give up. He’ll wait. And listen. Be strong the way she’d taught him. The way she’d always been for him. He owes it to her. Owes it to those beautiful babies she’s given him.
He doesn’t remember falling asleep. He hasn’t slept, not really slept, in so long that when he wakes, hunched over the edge of the bed and his back in knots, he’s more than a little disoriented. His brain is fuzzy. His mouth tastes awful.
He’s aware of having dreamed, but not certain of what he’d dreamt. She was there, of course, but she’d been a thought, an impression - her warm, comforting scent and the solid pounding of her heartbeat in his ear. Her voice somewhere in the back of his mind. Laughing, maybe. Teasing him, of course. And he feels different. Sore, yes, but somehow… lighter. More certain of himself. More solid. Not completely whole, but… something…
He sits up, his back protesting with every movement, and his eyes immediately going to her face. Serene, still. Unchanged. Breathing evenly. Peaceful in the glow of early morning light.
Bucky goes home, but not before politely threatening the staff and making sure they have all his numbers on file.
“She so much as twitches her big toe, you call me immediately.”
It’s Saturday and the kids are all home. They’re happy to see him, though a bit wary, but they welcome him.
There’s pizza and laughter and junk food and fantastic stories about the woman of the house.
When the call comes, they all rush out and pile into his truck. Drive back to the hospital in silence.
He’d heard the words, but they hadn’t made sense. And even when they file into the little hospital room, it still doesn’t make sense.
But, she’s there, sitting up in bed, her quilt draped around her shoulders to ward off the cold. And when she lifts those big, brown eyes in his direction, the world around him seems to splinter and break, a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding rushing out of him in a harsh burst.
He can feel the wall at his back. Can feel his heart pounding in his chest, hard and fast, and he can’t believe it.
The kids, however, are more believing. They rush to her bedside, crying and laughing in turn and, even in her weakened state, she pulls them to her. Plants kisses on their faces and accepts the ones they offer before slipping back into the pile of pillows used to prop her up. She’s smiling. Beautiful. Struggling to keep her eyes open though she’s been asleep for weeks.
“Pop! Pop, can you believe it? She’s awake!”
Grant is elated. Positively floating now that his mother is awake and most definitely alive. His smile is so bright and blinding. He sprints over, grabs his father’s hand and tugs him forcefully to his mother’s bedside.
And wishing your babies
Could know your Daddy and me
Bucky doesn’t know what to do. And it’s a strange place to be. After all the watching and waiting, after all the hope had run out and he’d settled into the silence, she’s awake and staring at him, a thin smile on her full lips.
He doesn’t know what to say. What to do. Even the kids are quiet now; even the nurses who’ve come in the check on their patient.
Her head shifts on the pillow and the smile gets a little bigger, despite her eyes started to droop a little.
“I was dreamin’ about you,” she says, her voice low and hoarse from lack of use, and it breaks him.
Bucky sags against the side of the bed, relief washing over him like the sunshine spilling through the windows, and he curls himself over her. Buries his face in the warm skin of her neck and breathes her in.
Her fingers find their way into his hair. Scrape over the base of his scalp the way she knows he likes. Says softly, quietly, for his ears alone…