#outhowl | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

werezmastarbucks · 6 years

Text

Soothsayer [5]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

Word count: 1850

Warnings: language, messing with Bucky’s head. Bucky’s pov

Genre / Pairing: Bucky x Reader. kisses! back home.

ZACK HEMSEY - I CAN GET IT BACK

Bucky Barnes was having the strangest dream. He was back in Brooklyn, him and his heavy body, immovable and very stealthy at the same time: ambiguous, like everything else he felt nowadays. His chin was itching, and he scratched it with his left hand, feeling metal fingers soothing the skin. He brushed away the hair from his face and took a deep breath. He was still wearing his navy blue vest and the belt around his torso, which he quickly took off, the buttons clicking. It smelt like jasmine, dust and water; the Brooklyn Bridge was not far away. The house was still pale white, and the sun was standing high, giving the blind spots, hiding the details from his eyes. He felt old. He felt usual. There was dirt on his right palm, and he tried to scrub it off, puzzled to the edge of possibility.

Aren’t I stupid. Getting really really old. Go figure it out, Barnes, said the voice inside his head.

A minute ago he was standing next to Steve, and all his body felt light like a feather, but weird. For a mere second there he got chills because he thought he was falling apart. He’s fallen apart million times before, but this one it was literal. The feet gave way, and then his arm crumbled, and then he suddenly couldn’t stand, collapsing on the ground. The last thing he saw, Y/N, blowing up the clouds of the old leaves with her feet, and how small she looked next to Steve. Why such faces? What happened?

Bucky looked up and put a palm to his forehead, looking at the windows of his house. That’s right, it’s home. There, Rebecca’s room window, with the pale blue curtains they nearly killed each other over at the market last season. So expensive. He couldn’t remember that earlier, but now it was pretty clear. In fact, everything was clear, so right and simple, and he couldn’t understand why it’s been such a big issue to come to terms with his memory.

The window opened, and Rebecca’s head appeared in between the sills.

“Hey, dirty head!”

Her long black hair was like a fox tail, glistening in the sun.

“How many times’ve I told ya not to shove yourself outta window like that!” Bucky barked and paused, startled. He got back his young voice. He hasn’t spoken in that tone for many, many years.

Rebecca yelled something back. He didn’t listen. He looked at her once again, not afraid she’d disappear, not nervous, or confused. He found the situation amusing.

“I’m comin’ up, open the door”, he shouted. Becca grimaced at him, and vanished inside the room.

He entered the house.

The blackness wouldn’t go away. He walked, and walked, and walked, and his footsteps only echoed harder. Finally, a pale blue light shone somewhere far in front, and he swore in disappointment. Couldn’t you give me five minutes with my sister? He had no idea to whom he was speaking. Howbeit, no one answered. He walked on, and his face started freezing. He became soft back there in Wakanda. It was a magical place. Good climate, nice, tactful people, the amazing nature, calm nights. He mended goats, for god’s sake. He drank water from the current, and ate fruit that he gathered himself, climbing up the trees like a big monkey. He watched sunrises like it was a TV show. But better. Much better. He seemed to have forgotten a little bit what it’s like when the freezing wind thrusts its icy fangs in skin. And slaps. And slaps. Trying to pendulum him the fuck off the cliff.

He reached out for the gun, but realized he literally just threw it away in Brooklyn. Since he decided to accept everything as it comes, he just went on, averting his face from the wind. Soon his feet were producing no more sound because he was ankles deep in snow. The huge maw of a cave opened agape, letting him out, and he could figure out the station down below in the snowy valley. A tingling feeling of alarm woke up his senses, and he made out, in the wind, the voices. As if somebody licked on his neck under the left ear, he turned exactly when a bullet whistled past him and danged on a rocky wall. He bent. A man was walking towards him, tall and broad-shouldered, and Bucky grouped, ready for the blow. But then, another voice came,

“Stop, wait!”

Bucky raised his head like a squirrel. Steve came out of the whirlwind of the snow, and attacked him with a bear hug.

“Steve?” he heard himself mumble.

Steve was wearing that light blue uniform he had back in forties. His face was alight, innocent and infinitely stupid-looking in this helmet with feathers on the sides.

“Hey, what the hell is going on?” Bucky cried, trying to outhowl the wind. Steve moved closer to him, frowning.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you dressed like this? Why are you at my station?”

Dum Dum stepped from behind his back, and Bucky greeted him with the wave of the hand.

“Hey, Sarge. Sorry for shooting at you. I thought you were one of these Nazi folks”.

Bucky could see his own breath leaving his lips and dispersing violently in the air right after. So, none of them was confused to see him here, the way he looked? Guess, we’re good with that as well?

Steve was smiling at him, his hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“I know, it’s darn confusing here”, he nodded with understanding. “But you’ll cope. I think they’re coming for you. Just don’t get on the pan”.

“Where – here?”

The wind was going mad. Bucky could feel it push him in the back. He realized Steve was standing dangerously close to the edge of the cliff.

Steve lifted his hand and touched his temple with the index finger.

“It’s quite a mash-up. Don’t get on the pan, pal. Don’t let them fry you, or there’ll be nothing to recover”.

The Commandos passed them by ceremonially, swaying in the wind like a set of train cars.

“Can I come with you?”

Steve shook his head negatively.

“Nah, Bucky. Not today”.

He was left there, watching his friend slowly vanishing in the white. Barnes could feel his face go hard like ice, and didn’t care. He suddenly felt so heart-broken, and the feeling stroke him so deep he gasped in surprise. The pain, so clear, like the main note of a symphony, moaning high and sharp, tensing his whole body. The heartbreak. He felt so alive he wanted to scream, yell until the snow plugs his throat and suffocates him, and if there had been some fun to standing below the windows of his house in Brooklyn, this strange sensation perished as quickly as it came.

Bucky opened his mouth and growled, with all his wolf might, wishing he could wake up.

He screamed.

And wake up he did.

The sun was stinging his eyes, and he slapped his stupid face, giggling to himself for no reason at all. He was warm, and naked, and the air from the open window brought the scent of summer in New York. He could smell concrete, grass, and flowers. He could smell his own skin, warmed up by the intense sunshine – it must be past noon already. He got fried after all, despite Steve’s warning.

He could smell something else – very familiar. Sweet fragrance that always hit his nose when the long-haired Y/N was close. He took away his hand and opened his eyes, lifting himself on his left elbow. Happiness flooded his mind when he saw her hair spread and caught underneath his metal arm.

She yelped in pain.

“I’m sorry”, he laughed, “I’m sorry”.

She opened her face like she’s just been created a second ago, even after her hair has been laid out in the bed.

He reached out to her with his good hand, grabbing her skin and found he’s clutching on her ribs.

“Are you hurt?” he asked. Y/N pulled her face closer, burying her head in the puffed pillow.

“No, only scalped. Why?”

“I thought you’ve been stabbed, little one”.

Her hands traced the lines of his back, and he felt shivers jumping joyfully on his shoulder blades. He laid back on his side, pulling his left arm under her pillow, and sighed contentedly.

“You must’ve dreamt that. I’m sure I’d notice if I’d been stabbed”.

Her voice was like a very slow chorus of a church bell, going straight to his brain and soothing it into sleep. He couldn’t see half of her face and was growing wary of it. Bucky lifted himself up again and caught her in his arms, flipping her over so that she’d face the window. Her fingers clutched his skin like she was falling. That was the best feeling. He’d recalled that first time he covered her up because she would be so forgetful of the things around her in the field. Shoot me, I don’t even care. The feeling of her hanging on to him, grabbing his sides like she was drowning, like he was her only way to survival, had never left him, even when he lost the memory of her voice. When she disappeared for two years he was bringing back that moment, and holding on to it, ironically, like his life depended on it.

She was stroking his face gently, like she was forbidden to actually touch him. Like he could say no to her, or push her away. With all his will and strength gathered, Barnes considered it hard. No one has touched him this way for nearly eighty years. He traced her body down her thigh and then up again, counting her ribs. One was missing.

“Maybe you’ll be the one to tell me where I am”.

Y/N was lying next to him like a mermaid, her skin taking in the light from the window. Bucky saw the room behind her, but couldn’t pay much attention.

“Where do you think you are?”

“Not in Wakanda”.

She shook her head slowly, caressing his neck.

“Not home”.

Another negative.

“Not in Siberia”.

“M-hm”.

“But this is not real either”.

“How do you know?”

“The real Y/N wouldn’t let me in”.

She went sore.

“It’s too good to be true”, Bucky went on indifferently, ignoring the light shivers between his bones. His affection boiled bright pink in his throat, and he barely could hear himself speak behind the sound of wanting to open her mouth with his fingers and put his tongue inside. While he could. He didn’t have time to reach Rebecca. And the snowstorm didn’t let him change Steve’s mind. Something told him he wouldn’t have time to cover those six inches between them.

“You know I always try to take care of you”, Y/N said.

“Uh-huh”.

“How are you feeling?”

Bucky sighed and forced himself to look into her eyes.

“Alive. But hurt. It’s good, I guess. It’s different now”.

“Why are you- ”

He felt the bed pushed away from beneath him before she could finish. He bumped his head on the floor hard, like he was falling for a very long time. He clutched his fists and felt something soft and wet in his palms. Bucky grunted angrily, breathing like an animal, and sunk his teeth into his lip, almost tearing it. Enough!

taglist: @shelbyyychristian

@csigeoblue

@theshortegg

@wickidlady

@hades-raven

@sammysgirl1997

#infinity war #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #captain america #steve rogers #infinity war imagine

14 notes · View notes