PHOBOPHOBIA: THE FEAR OF FEAR
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: ~1620
Summary: Bucky’s POV; It’s been nearly thirty years since you were separated from the man you called Зимние, Zimniye, Winter. He was made to forget you, and he never knew why. What had the two of you done wrong? Now that he’s found you again… well…
Warnings: This is pure fluff, guys.
I run out to the moving truck, reaching to take the box from (Y/N)’s hands.
“I got it, baby.”
She smiles, handing the box off to me and skipping to the front door. Steve waits there.
“Is that the last one?” he calls, stepping out onto the porch.
“Yeah,” she says, “and thanks for helping us move in, Steve.”
“You don’t have to thank me. You didn’t even have to ask.”
Steve nods, hugging her around her shoulders and pulling her into his side, “You’re welcome.”
I take the couple of steps onto the porch. (Y/N) goes inside first. I follow in behind her with Steve on my heels. Just as I set the last box down in the kitchen, (Y/N)’s phone starts to ring.
“Kitten! Your phone!”
“Answer it! It’s probably just Nat.”
I swipe up the little piece of tech from the wooden counter, pressing the answer key and putting the phone to my ear.
“Next time you can pick up the paint!”
I chuckle, “Calm down, Romanoff, and tell me what happened.”
“They mixed the wrong color twice! Like, dude, I gave you the paint card. Just make my color!”
I sigh, listening to her frustrated groaning for a few moments before she finally sighs.
“I’m fine. Did you guys get the truck unpacked?”
“Just brought the last box in.”
“Alright, well, I’m picking up the food now so I should be there in about twenty minutes.”
“I’ll let (Y/N) know.”
“See you in a bit.”
I end the call and set the phone back down. When I go into the living room, I find several open boxes but no (Y/N) or Steve, save for their voices from down the hall as they discuss the paint colors. I decide to leave the to it, going to sit on the couch.
I smile, looking down at my left hand. Specifically, I’m looking down at the dark-colored, titanium band that graces the ring finger of my metal hand. It’s amazing one seemingly insignificant piece of metal can mean the world.
It was after Siberia, after France… When we got back to the states and our future finally felt like it was ours for the taking, (Y/N) and I sat down to discuss just that. I told her I wanted to do right by her. I told her I had everything intention of marrying her one day.
She looks at me, smiling as she says, “Why wait?”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying it’s been long enough, Bucky. I love you. You love me. So what the hell are we waiting for?”
“One hundred percent. We could go right now.”
I chuckle, shaking my head and taking her hand, “Let’s take a couple of weeks, make sure this is something we can even legally do.”
Turns out it was not.
Fury had been working for months to get (Y/N)’s citizenship reestablished. Because she was born overseas, it took a little longer than expected. As luck would have it, her new birth certificate came in a week and a half later. Also in that two weeks, Steve and I got new suits. (Y/N) and Nat found the “perfect dresses”. We bought our rings.
I pull mine off my finger, leaning forward into the light from the window. Our initials, carved in a beautiful scripted, on either side of the word ‘FOREVER’ written in Russian, a language we both, at one time or another, feared.
As I slide it back on, I look around our living room. A couple of months after saying “I do”, we started looking for a place of our own. We found this little fixer-upper just outside the city, not too far from the Avengers facility. Three bedrooms. Two bathrooms. A decently-sized kitchen that flowed right into the living room. A massive backyard.
(Y/N)’s favorite part is the bay window in our bedroom; it overlooks the backyard. We had the seat converted into storage space, the perfect place for her to store her books or whatever.
At first, I was worried because it more or less out of our price range, but she loved it. I loved it. It seemed like the perfect place, if the universe willed it, for us to raise a family. Much to my surprise, while Steve was trying to help me work out what to do, Tony walked in and offered pay for it, in full and in cash if that would guarantee it would be ours.
“Look, Barnes, don’t get all sentimental. We’re in a good place, you and I, and I like (Y/N). While I’m doing this for you, it’s mostly for her.”
I nod my head, still in slight disbelief, smiling as I look up at him, “Whatever your reasoning, thank you.”
He even covered the repairs and renovation. Clint chipped in his expertise on that. It took a month to get the paperwork finalized and get whatever permits we needed for the work. It took another two months to get everything finished. We spent another month packing and picking out furniture.
She insisted we do the painting ourselves. I agreed assuming it was just her way of reassuring herself that this was, in fact, her home.
“A little help would be nice!”
I jump up at the sound of Natasha’s voice, running out to her help her get the paint cans and supplies from the car. She carries two large take-out bags, walking ahead of me and into the house. (Y/N) runs out from the back, impatiently waiting for Natasha to unbag the food.
Once she finds her, she takes up a plastic fork and disappears into the living room. The girls sit on the couch. I sit at (Y/N)’s feet, leaning back against the couch, while Steve sits next to me, turned to face us. We talk about a little bit of everything, laughing and just genuinely enjoying the moment.
“So,” (Y/N) says, running her fingers back through my hair, “I was thinking about accent walls.”
“What?” I ask, laying my head back against the couch and looking at her upside down .
“In the bedrooms. I know we’re doing the walls in that dark beige you liked, but I want more color. So I had Nat pick up some extra colors. Dark red for our room. Then dark purple or dark blue for each of the other rooms. What do you think?”
“Sounds good to me, though I don’t know how I feel about that purple.”
She smiles and leans down to kiss my forehead, “I think you’ll like it.”
We’ve finished eating by the time the others finally arrive. From there we split off into five groups. Steve and I work in the back room across from the master. Tony and Bruce take the master, and Thor and Vision take the third room. Clint and Sam work in the living room, putting together what furniture they can. (Y/N), Natasha and Wanda start in the kitchen, unpacking what they can.
We’ve finished the other three walls. I stare down at the two cans of the colored paint, screwdriver in hand. I sigh, kneeling down to open them up and slightly dreading the sight of the color to come. I feel my brow raise when the first color turns out to be a sort of hot pink. I pry the lid from the other can and find a sort of blue-gray color inside.
“Hey, Kitten, can you come here for a minute?”
She and the others arrive in the doorway a few moments later.
“Didn’t you say purple and blue?”
She nods, biting her lip.
“Well, that’s not what we have here.” She smiles, and my brow raises again, “You knew that, didn’t you?”
She walks into the room and grabs both paint lids from the floor, “Bucky, tell me what you see.”
“I see pink, and I see blue.”
“Uh-huh. What do people usually associate those colors with?”
I don’t know why my mind isn’t grasping what she’s getting at. From somewhere behind me, I hear sounds indicating Steve’s understanding.
“Think, Bucky.” (Y/N) says with a laugh.
Finally, a few more minutes of staring at the paint and looking into her eyes, it dawns on me. My eyes go wide, my hand flying up to cover my mouth as my vision blurs a bit. I drop my gaze to her stomach. I put my hands on her sides, my palms on either side of her belly.
She nods, “Yeah.”
“We’ll give you two a minute.” Steve says, patting my back before leaving the room.
Once everyone’s gone, we both take a seat on the floor, her hands in mine.
“I didn’t even think it was possible.”
“I know. Me either, but I got curious one day. I asked Bruce if there was a way to find out if they’d done anything, you know, sterilization or whatever. He called in a couple of favors. They ran blood tests and things got a little,” she chuckles softly, “invasive. After everything, they told me I should no problem conceiving if we were trying. I know we weren’t exactly trying, but…” her voice trails off as she crawls over to me, “Are you okay?”
“I’m just processing.” I meet her gaze as a tear finally breaks from my eyes, “I’m gonna be a father.”
She nods, “Are you scared?”
I shake my head, “No. Not even in the slightest.”
I move to stand on my knees. She leans back but after a moment does the same. I cradle her jaw in my hands, pressing my lips to hers.
We earned this, this freedom, this happiness.
Fear is forgotten, and for the first time, in a long time, hope is the overwhelming emotion.
So, the main part of this story has come to an end, but I’ve been doing some thinking over the last few days. I want to do a sort of miniseries that will expand on Bucky’s flashbacks and dig a little deeper into their relationship. I just wonder if that’s something you guys will be interested in.
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