idk

You arch your hips upward and moan quietly into Bucky’s mouth. Your lips mesh in a gentle and passionate kiss. His hands roam your sides, fingers softly tracing your curves appreciatively. His left fingertips dip under the waistband of your panties, the cold digits sending a shiver through you. Bucky smiles into your kiss and you giggle. His tongue presses against the seam of your lips and you open your mouth to let him in. His tongue swirls into your mouth as his hands gently pull your silky sleep-tank upwards. Your mouths disconnect and he pulls the top off and tosses it to the side. His eyes roam your exposed flesh highlighted by the midday light coming in through the window and an appreciative groan is pulled from his throat. His hands run up your sides to cup your breasts.

Something flashes in his eyes, but before you can question it he’s back on top of you, his weight pressing you into the bed as his mouth meets yours bruisingly. His right hand moves up to grip your hair and press you closer to him as he desperately kisses you. His left hand grips your thigh tightly as he hitches it on his hip in order to grind onto your clothed core firmly.

Bucky is never this aggressive. The two of you are usually soft and loving with each other as you make love. Gentle touches, reassuring praises, soft touches. Not now. Bucky’s kiss is hard and his grip is aggressive. He’s desperately licking into your mouth. You moan lightly, the confusion quickly overpowered by the relief you feel at the pressure just where you need it.

Bucky groans and his flesh fingers fist into your hair and tug slightly, causing your mouth to fall open in a gasp. Bucky takes that as a sign to continue, disconnecting his mouth from yours to trail down your neck. His mouth his warm and wet as he sucks at the delicate skin below your jaw harshly before releasing to drag his teeth across your pulsepoint. You moan, enjoying the unusual but pleasant feeling. Bucky pulls away to kneel above you, metal hand moving from your hip so his cold fingers can tease your nipple. You sigh, but pause as his flesh hand untangles from your hair and drift to wrap around your neck. The pressure is light, barely enough to cause discomfort but it’s just enough to send you spiraling. You freeze, the tightness all to familiar.

You can’t prevent the memories from flashing through your mind. They overcome you and you don’t even notice as Bucky removes himself from you and cradles your face, voice raising in concern.

“Hold still, baby, don’t move,” he growls into your ear, his fingers flexing around your neck as he groans. Tears are streaming down your face as you choke on sobs through your gasps for air. Your eyes roll back into your skull from the pain as you desperately try to forget what’s happening as it happens. You can feel the shame and disgust rolling through you and settling in your bones. “I know you feel great, baby, don’t lie.” His hand presses down harder against your neck, closing your airways. You can see the black dots crowding your vision as your consciousness begins to fade. “You hear me, [Y/N]?” His questions is demanding, but his voice is distorted and wobbling. Your brows furrow as the darkness grows nearer. “[Y/N]? ……Doll!” His voice is different. More familiar now. It doesn’t grate on your ears or send dread slithering down your spine. It’s familiar…

You gasp, bolting upright as your heart races. You hyperventilate, eyes wide and darting around the room. You don’t know how long you were stuck in the memory, but Bucky is off of you now, but you can’t see him. Tears pour from your eyes and you can feel the panic attack rising in you and you scramble backwards on the bed. A warm wall of flesh blocks you and you squeak in fear, panicking as large arms wrap around you. You squirm in the embrace weakly, limbs heavy like deadweight.  A cold, metal hand gently nudges your trembling chin upwards and through tear-filled eyes you see the concerned face of James Buchanan Barnes, your boyfriend. You immediately stop moving, collapsing into his embrace and allow yourself to cry. Sobs wrack your body. Bucky pulls you into his lap and cradles you, shushing and cooing sweet nothings into your ear as you break down.

How long you cried for you don’t know. It’s dark out by the time your sobs fade into sniffles. Bucky remains in his spot, gently rocking you back and forth while humming a soft tune you don’t recognize. At some point Bucky had pulled the softest blanket you own up around the two of you, creating a soft and cozy bubble for the two of you. His hand slowly drifts up and down your arm soothingly and you lean into him, resting your head on his chest. He waits quietly, knowing that if you wanted to talk you would.

You sigh, bringing one hand up to entwine with his flesh one. He tightens his fingers around yours and gently squeezes you in his embrace. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, sniffling again. Bucky stops his humming.

“You don’t have to be sorry, doll.” He reassures and you turn your gaze up to his. His face is relaxed and his eyes are genuine as he smiles sadly. “You don’t have to explain anything either, love, just tell me what to avoid in the future,” he adds gently. His voice is soft and full of love.

You shake your head, frowning. “You deserve to know, Bucky.” Your voice trembles but you remain resolute. Your head drops back to his chest as you square your shoulders and squeeze Bucky’s bicep reassuringly as he goes to stop you again. “It was before we met,” you begin hesitantly. “I was struggling to make ends meet, so I had to take a couple extra side gigs at a stri-... as a dancer.” You stop talking as the memories of your time before being recruited are renewed in your mind. Bucky’s chest freezes before he resumes his usual steady breathing rhythm.

The gentle thudding of his heart in his chest against your ear calms you and you resume. “I was good. Pretty soon there were a couple men who would come see me dance every night, and one of them… He got too attached. He would follow me out of the club at night and ask me out, harassing me as I tried to just ignore him and walk home. After a few days of my silent rejections he began getting angry. Yelling about how I should stop being so coy and just accept that I love him. Why else would I dance like that for him?” Your voice cracks and tears well up in your eyes anew. Bucky sighs and presses a gentle kiss to your hairline. “Um, one night he didn’t show and I thought it was over. I let my guard down and…” Bucky’s heart skips a beat and you can feel his breathing pick up slightly. His metal hand fists against your hip and the motors whir. “He, um. He pulled me into an alleyway and he-” you break and the tears spill over.

Bucky shushes you. “It’s okay doll. You’re safe now.” He hums into your hair as you sniffle, fingernails digging into your palms. “I won’t let him hurt you ever again, I promise. Nobody will harm you as long as I’m alive.” You close your eyes and focus on Bucky’s breathing, matching it in an attempt to calm down. Bucky continues his gentle reassurances, using his flesh hand to run through your hair soothingly. You relax into his touch, savoring the gentleness. You know you’ll never be rid of the memory of that night, or the lasting effects of it. But you do know that Bucky will be there for you when you need help. To keep you strong and safe.

And there is nothing wrong with that, because you’re a survivor.

Taglist:

@fly-f0rever @dont-speak-just-read @sammywinchetre @theultimatefangirl

@strange-polish-lass @colouredwater @hollycornish @training-wolves

@je-suls @indaybella99 @sebuckystan-barnes @mcdanno71

@tearsandbloodofmyenemies @me-shipper-trash @spn-worm

@fxcking-meatball @sassycat15 @the-renaissance  @smilexoxoes

Taglist:

“C’mon, pal, we’ll have a good time!” Steve urges, and Bucky finds himself helpless and unable to tell his oldest--literally, oldest-- friend no. The desperation in Steve’s eyes as he nearly begs his best friend to go out with him and bond is hard to ignore. Besides, [Y/N] has been encouraging him to go out with Steve since Bucky’s recovery. The poor man is feeling a little neglected since Bucky bonded to [Y/N] when he was first brought to the compound and freed from Hydra’s grasp. Since then, Steve’s kept a considerate distance, but his desire to reconnect with his childhood friend was building. So, when [Y/N] took off for a mission Steve figured he could get Bucky to bond. Thus, Bucky finds himself throwing on a coat and being shuffled out of the building and into the city of New York for a night of good ol’ “bro time.”

“Steve,” Bucky pleads, “do we really need to go and see another one of these terrible muscle car movies?” His words fall on deaf ears as Steve grins and turns to order snacks for the movie. “They don’t even fight or shoot correctly,” he pouts, crossing his arms and eyeing the people crowding around him.

“You’ll survive, pal. Trust me, Sam and Tony said that it’s the best movie that’s come out this year.” Bucky grimaces, knowing the two’s taste in film. Steve frowns, coming to the same realization, before shrugging it off and smiling. “At the very least you can complain to [Y/N] about it later.”

Bucky grumbles in reply, watching a particularly rambunctious group of 15 year olds climb out of someone’s mom’s minivan, each sporting a t-shirt with a muscle car and poorly clad woman perched on it. He rolls his eyes and begrudgingly follows Steve into the theater. They finds their seats and Bucky shoots Steve a look. “If I fall asleep, don’t wake me.” Steve chuckles in reply.

Steve and Bucky walk into the lobby, Steve chatting excitedly and Bucky desperately waiting for his chance to escape Steve’s overbearing friendliness. It’s not that Bucky doesn’t care for his friend, it’s just that since he regained his memories Steve has been treating him like he’s Humpty Dumpty after his fall. Steve’s awkward smiles and overly careful conversations, and not to mention just how often Steve tries to pretend that Bucky is the same old Bucky from the 1930s, despite the obvious fact that he isn’t, and never will be again, makes Bucky feel guilty and pressured to act how Steve remembers. Sometimes, he can’t cope.

After the movie, Steve and pushed Bucky into the closest bar and ordered a couple of rounds of shots and then dragged him to a nearby park where a couple of local musicians put together a concert. The noise, people, and cheap vodka didn’t help his mood. So, as soon as Bucky makes it into the compound’s ground floor, he sprints off, heading for one of his many hiding spots.

“That wasn’t so bad, was i-- Bucky? Where’d you go?!” Steve looks around the lobby, baffled to find Bucky nowhere in sight, despite talking to him literally seconds ago. He frowns and sighs, knowing his friend just isn’t ready to socialize that much, and feeling guilty for pushing him and following Tony’s--of all people’s--advice. He really should have just asked Bucky what he wanted to do. Steve trudges off, guilty and wishing he could restart the night. He’ll have to apologize in the morning when Bucky comes out from hiding.

Bucky sighs, pulling his knees towards his chest and gripping a rag in his fist, squeezing it like it can absorb all of his stress. He focuses on breathing deep, how [Y/N] taught him and watching the shadows of people’s feet as they walk past the inconspicuous linen closet. He listens to the water running through the pipes, letting the hushed sound lull him into a calm.

A set of footsteps approach the closet and stop before the door. Bucky stills, hoping whoever is outside will walk away. He specifically chose this closet because nobody retrieves their linens from it, unless absolutely necessary. The handle twists and he waits with bated breath, silently praying the person will go away, but knowing the chances of it are slim. The door swings open and he looks up apprehensively, expecting to see one of Stark’s personal assistant’s, but feels a flood of relief flow through him when he meets the eyes of his girlfriend, [Y/N]. She smiles and steps inside, closing the door firmly behind her and flopping down next to Bucky. He shuffles closer to her in the all-too-big linen closet and she wraps her arms around him. He ducks his head into the crook of her neck and sighs deeply.

“Steve says you guys went out for the night. You okay?” Bucky nods slightly. “You know he only wants the best for you, he’s just figuring out how to be your friend again.”

“I know, I appreciate his effort,” he mumbles into her neck and she smiles, turning to press a kiss into his hair.

“Now, cuddle me,” she whispers, crawling into his lap and curling up. He smiles and happily wraps his arms around her tightly, relishing the feeling of her skin on his and the weight of her against his chest. He ducks his head down to kiss her softly, sighing against her now-smiling lips. “I love you,” she breathes, pressing another kiss to his chin dimple.

“I love you too, [Y/N].” He twists them around to lean against the corner and they lay there together, listening to each other’s breathing and whispering to each other about everything and nothing.