Sometimes, I wonder if you reached out to me right now, pleading for me back, what I would do.
I can’t help but wonder if I’d let you back in. I wonder if I’d fall to your feet. I wonder if I’d break down just for the possibility that you could make me feel good again. I wonder how much it’d take for me to come rushing back to you.
I can’t help but wonder if I’d be prideful. I wonder if I’d ignore you and keep my head held high, just to satisfy my hunger to hurt you like you hurt me. Even though I’d be the one who’d end up crying at the end of the night.
But no matter what I would do, it doesn’t matter.
You don’t want me back.
I could write novels about all the guys I’ve been with but I couldn’t write one about you.
I could describe love but I couldn’t describe the way I feel about you.
I could fall in love but I couldn’t fall in love the way I did with you.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Nurse!Reader Part: 2/? Warnings: Smut Summary: Reader a nurse during WW2 finds herself at the same camp as Bucky. A/N: This inspired by this Sinful Sunday™ post. I worked really hard on this, hope you guys like it. This might be the last part but I can’t be sure. I wrote this listening to Etta James - At Last if you want to listen. Make sure you come and let me know what you guys think! Word count : 1,754
Bucky stopped in his tracks the moment his eyes fell on you.
It was as if the cracks in your heart had been filled. The moment your name passed his lips, you pushed through the darkness of longing to the surface of hope with a sharp intake of breath.
He stood still, eyes locked with yours. His chest heaved with adrenaline and uncertainty yet his eyes remained unmoved. You took a slow step forward, finding your voice you called his name softly.
His eyes closed, jaw clenched slightly. “You even sound like her” his voice was low and mostly to himself. Titling your head curiously, you realised his dilemma. The time that had passed between you had caused him to believe you were but a trick being played by his mind. Sadness clenched at your heart but still you stepped closer.
“So we’re trying to become toast,” Yuuri explains, and points at the screen. “So we have to make it to the toaster.”
Victor has never been much for video games—he wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t for the fact that Yuuri is sitting distractingly close to him, his ankle continuously brushing against Victor’s own. “This is seriously a game that people pay money for?”
He nods. “Phichit and I used to play it all the time. It’s good for bonding. Okay, come on. You can control the top half of the bread.”
A few minutes later, they are invested.
“Yuuri!” Victor shouts as they’re about to tumble off of a wall. “Yuuri, hold on. You’d better–Yuuri! You let go!”
“The grip ran out,” he sighs, and takes his hand off of the keyboard. “I’m sorry.”
“We were so close,” Victor mumbles, pulling Yuuri onto his lap and lacing his fingers on his torso, burying his face in the back of his shoulder. “So close to finally becoming toast.”