In the Embers ~ 9
Pairing: Firefighter!Bucky x F!Plus Size!Adopted Rogers!Reader
WC: 6k
Summary: After returning home from a failed career as an artist in LA, you are reunited with the boy next door who has always owned a piece of your heart, and there’s no running from each other this time.
Chapter Note: Time to wrap some loose ends up. The end is approaching <3
Chapter Warnings: Bucky and Oak being so in love and gross also it gets angsty as FUCK in the beginning sorry not sorry lollll
Series Masterlist / Series Playlist
NINE MONTHS AGO
Bucky Barnes had absolutely no fucking idea what he was doing.
The whole situation he had put himself in was the textbook definition of this could have been an email. To be fair, that was his original intention, it was just that he didn’t have your number, and it felt like asking Steve for that information would have turned this into a much bigger deal than he wanted (especially after his very fair and reasonable reaction when Bucky fucked up his last profession of love to you).
In the end though, that was exactly what happened, because when Bucky went to search for your contact information on your website, he saw the posting for a gallery showing you were presenting at in Los Angeles tomorrow night. And suddenly a new tab was opening on his computer and he was purchasing a one-way plane ticket.
He had the next two days off at the fire station, anyway. Might as well actually use the time off instead of just picking up overtime shifts like he always did.
Now, here he was, standing in the streets of Downtown LA wearing black slacks and a maroon button up, eyes glued to his phone as he tried to navigate himself to your art preview. To you.
He had no idea what he was going to do, what he was going to say. All he knew was that he needed to see you.
It had been easy to keep his feelings shoved in the deepest, darkest caverns of his heart when he was overseas fighting for his country - even though you found your way into his dreams almost every night. It became harder when he moved back home to take care of his mom, where memories of you surrounded him, crushed him, and those caverns where he kept you ached from the constant reminder of your absence.
Then, his mom passed away, and you came to the funeral. It was the first time that he had seen you face to face instead of behind his eyelids, and all the emotions he had spent years trying to snuff out ignited within him.
You looked so different. Smaller, and not just physically. There was less light radiating off of you, less warmth. He figured it had to do with the circumstances: the funeral, having to return home after making it clear that you didn’t want to come back, seeing him for the first time after he finally found the courage to begin explaining how he had felt about you for years, only to immediately run away because he was afraid to hurt you the way he old man had hurt him and his mom. He’d rather live the rest of his life with the ache of losing you than be the cause of that kind of suffering for you.
He loved you too much for that.
Bucky swore that he tried his best to stay away from you, to give you the space you needed to grieve the woman you loved without feeling any discomfort from his presence. But he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, and at one point, after the burial while everyone was walking through the cemetery to their respective vehicles, he allowed himself one last glance, only to find that you had also taken this moment to look over at him, too. Your eyes locked, and you gave him a small smile as you walked up to him.
Bucky was in so much pain. His mom was gone and it felt like he was totally lost, floating in this weird limbo surrounded by darkness. Yet there you were, this beacon, drawing him to you as if there was some sort of magnetic tether he couldn’t- wouldn’t tear himself away from.
You opened up your arms, and Bucky finally allowed himself to be selfish, to fall into your embrace and hold you as if you were the only thing keeping him on two feet.
“I’m so sorry, Bucky,” you whispered over his shoulder, voice thick with grief.
“Me too, Oak.” For so many reasons that he couldn’t even begin to cover. He didn’t want to think about that right now. He just wanted to focus on the feeling of his arms around you, to hold onto the memory of it and allow it to sustain him for the rest of his days.
“Ay, babe! You comin’ or what?” A loud, annoyed voice echoed through the cemetery and you pulled back to look behind you.
Bucky felt his heart cleave in two as he followed your eye-line. He had heard rumors from Steve about the hot shot LA guy you’d been with the last few years. He looked like a real asshole, if Bucky was being honest, and he really wished that he could have explicitly uninvited this dude from his mother’s funeral. But he was your partner, the man who had been there for you after Bucky chose not to, when he had forfeited any right to judge who you wanted to be with.
Even if they seemed like a douchebag.
You looked back to him, beautiful eyes wide with a million thoughts behind them, your mouth slightly open as if you might want to speak on them.
Instead, your mouth closed, and you gave Bucky’s arms a light squeeze. “We gotta go, our flight takes off in a few hours.”
He nodded. “Thank you for coming. It’s….it’s really good to see you.”
Your lips pressed together and you bobbed your head up and down. “You too. Sorry I haven’t been around-”
“Y/n! Come on! I’m dyin’ over here.”
Bucky’s jaw worked while you looked back at your boyfriend, fighting back the urge to run over and clock the guy for the fucking horrible comment.
You looked back at him once more, eyes piercing his and Bucky’s lungs nearly gave up as he lost himself in the stunning hues of your irises.
“I’m sorry, we just- Brock is…we need to go. I’ll see you around, okay Buck?”
He nodded, allowing himself one more selfish moment as he pulled you in for a final hug, eliciting a small gasp from you. It had nearly killed him to let you go all those years ago, and he didn’t know if he had the strength to do it again.
But for you, he would find it. He would always do whatever he could to protect you.
“Goodbye, Oak.”
Turns out he wasn’t strong enough, because for months the ache of losing you a second time consumed him, and he felt as if he was drowning. Your absence in all of the places where he slowly fell in love with you while growing up were suffocating. He couldn’t go through with it this time, not without laying everything out for you, leaving it in the open in case there was a chance you felt the same.
When you were kids, it seemed like you did. Now? All he could do was hope.
Which was what brought him to this moment, walking through the glass doors of the gala, maneuvering his way through the crowds until he found your exhibit.
He was always awestruck with your work, sometimes sneaking peaks in your room when you weren’t home to admire your paintings, or staring at the ones hung up on the display boards outside the art room in school. Seeing what was produced from the thing that brought you such joy made Bucky’s heart swell every time.
These ones at the gala were…different. He wasn’t sure what it was about your new pieces, the bareness of the trees, the lack of color that used to fill every white space. There were aspects of them that he knew made the art yours, but there was a hardness, a lifelessness to them that was unfamiliar.
“Can I help you find anything, man?” Bucky turned at the sound of the familiar voice, a scowl forming on his face before he even locked eyes with your boyfriend. Brock’s eyes widened in recognition, and his fake smile widened. “Oh, hey! You’re one of Y/n’s old friends from home, right? We saw you at your mom’s funeral.”
God, this guy is the worst, Bucky thought as he gave Brock a single nod in response. “I’m looking for Oa- Y/n. Is she here?”
Brock shook his head, using his best salesman voice, “Nah, she’s actually in San Fran meeting with some investors who want to give her permanent gallery space. Lot of big things ahead and hopefully no slowing down anytime soon!”
Bucky’s chest ached, both out of pride for your success and realization that he shouldn’t have come, shouldn’t have allowed himself to be selfish and try to take you away from every opportunity you had worked so hard for.
He cleared his throat. “That’s awesome. Good for her. No one deserves it more.”
Brock’s eyes knit together in skepticism, fake smile faltering ever so slightly. “I agree. Did you, uh, want me to tell her you stopped by?”
“No, that’s not necessary. I was…just in the area so I thought I’d stop by. I should get going.”
Brock nodded, and Bucky turned to leave, a new ache forming as his heart officially ripped in two as he forced himself to finally let you go.
Just before he stepped out of your exhibit, a flash of blue caught his eye and he looked to his right, finding one of the few paintings of yours that actually had color to it.
It was a tree covered with stars and surrounded by blue, a boy and a girl sitting at the top.
A small smile curved up his lips and he turned back to Brock.
“How much for this one?”
NOW
“I can’t decide whether I would ever want to meet the person who thought to themselves, ‘You know what would make this turkey taste better? Shoving fruit up its ass.’”
Your mom snorted, shaking her head as she continued peeling potatoes. “I bet they were just trying to think of ways to keep their annoying children busy.”
You scoffed, debating as you washed your hands whether to flick sink water at your mother but - upon noticing how close she was to the knife block - decided to just stick your tongue out her instead like the mature adult you were.
Mom beamed, and you caught a slight shimmer in her eyes and your brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. You just-” she sighed, “It’s nice to see you so happy.”
You cocked your head to the side with a small smile, drying your hands with a towel and then walking over to hug your mom.
“Love you momma,” you whispered.
“I love you too, honey. Every day I feel more and more lucky that I get to be your momma.”
A knock came at the door a few moments later just as you put the fruit-filled turkey in the oven and you checked the clock on the microwave with a smile. It was five minutes before the others were told to arrive, meaning the person waiting outside most likely wasn’t Steve and Nat.
You scurried over, yelling over your shoulder, “I’ll get it!”
You paused once you reached the door, running your hands over your burnt-orange sweater dress, inspecting your black tights for any holes or runs (aside from the pre-existing one on your thigh that was just high up enough to be covered by the dress). Finally, once you deemed that all was well, you reached for the knob and pulled the door open.
Bucky jumped forward - as if the wooden structure had been holding him back for hours rather than just a few seconds - barely taking the time to look at you before his lips connected with yours, his hands moving up to cradle your face. You only had a fraction of a second to let out a yelp in surprise before your brain had become mush and you sighed into his lips, resting your hands on his waist.
It had been days since you had first gotten to experience this, and countless repeats in between, and yet you were still unsure whether you would get used to the sensation of kissing Bucky. The way it went from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, this buzzing feeling that made you dizzy, your knees weak.
Luckily, you had a tall, beefy, handsome as hell firefighter to lean on.
After not nearly enough time, Bucky pulled away from you, eyes half-open and a lazy grin on his beautiful face.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Oak,” he whispered, lips inches from yours.
You bit your bottom lip as a smile threatened to split your face in two. “Happy Thanksgiving, Buck.”
He scrunched his nose in delight at the dreamlike sound of your voice, eyes gazing lovingly into yours before finally stepping back to grab the three pie dishes placed on the steps outside the door.
Your brows furrowed. “Why did you put the pies down?”
His grin widened as he stood straight. “Didn’t want to half-ass the kiss when I first saw ya.” Then the bastard winked and you felt your whole body evaporate.
Still, you attempted to keep your cool and scoffed. “What if my mom answered the door?”
A casual shrug. “I’m an army vet. Got fast reflexes. Besides, I’m five minutes early and we both know the chances of Steve being the one knocking were nonexistent. And maybe I assumed that you would be excited to see me and book it to the door before Sarah had a chance to hear someone arrive.” He winked at you and you couldn’t help but giggle.
“Can’t argue with that logic.” You stood up on your toes and Bucky took that as his cue to lean forward for another chaste kiss, your hands resting on the deep green fabric covering his solid chest.
And though each kiss made your heart flutter as if it were the first, it amazed you how easily the two of you molded into one another. It felt like you and Bucky were two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly, so much so that it was a bit difficult to break apart.
Some might even say impossible.
Steve and Nat arrived moments later with extra food goodies, and once everything had been cooked and put together, you all made your way to the dinner table. Bucky sat next to you, his chair closer than it probably needed to be, but you liked that the lack of space allowed him to grab your hand underneath the table with ease.
At one point, Bucky’s hand rested on your thigh, his thumb stroking your leg just at the hem of your dress. You tried to swipe it away before he located the hole in your stocking, but you were too late, and Bucky turned to you, eyes bouncing from your leg to your face with a mischievous grin as heat rose to your face. His finger poked its way through to rub against the exposed skin of your leg and for a moment your heart actually stopped.
His low, rumbly chuckle at your reaction caught the attention of Steve who groaned once he observed you two.
“Look,” he started with an exasperated tone, “I know I said I wanted you two to get together, but that doesn’t not make it weird to see my best friend feel up my sister.”
You scoffed. “Mind your business, Stevie!”
At the same time, Nat lightly hit him on the chest with the back of her hand as she mumbled, “Let them be cute and awkward. It’s adorable!”
“Listen,” Steve protested, arm waving in the air, gesturing to you and Bucky, “I just want hands to be where I can see ‘em!”
Bucky shook his head at Steve, lifting both his hands in the air and you rolled your eyes at the drama of it all.
Then, Bucky’s hand moved to your neck, pulling you to him so that he could place a sloppy, wet kiss on your cheek and you squealed while Steve groaned even louder than before, his face burrowing into his hands.
“Alright kids,” Mom started, laughing at all the hullabaloo before her, “Let’s settle down already. There’s something I want to talk to you all about, anyways.”
Everyone turned their attention to your mom at the head of the table as she interlaced her fingers in front of her. She stared at them for a few moments before her eyes scanned the table to meet each of yours and she continued.
“You all know that I went to Florida the other week for vacation, but that wasn’t the only reason. I was actually looking at a condo for sale that’s next to a few friends. I spoke with the property manager and put in an offer the other day. So I’m selling the house and moving in January.”
All blood drained from your face as panic coursed through you. Selling the house? But this was your home, always had been. And your mom was leaving? Had all of the air suddenly left the room?
“What?” you asked, your voice small and quiet.
She pursed her lips and gave you a single nod. “This house is just too big for me, and though I have loved having you here this past month, I know that you’re taking steps to find a place on your own and I’ll be here again. Plus, I’ve been thinking about retiring at the end of the year, so the timing of it all makes sense. And you don’t have to move out in January. In fact, I’ll need you all to help pack this place up and help me sell it, and that’ll take months, so you still have time to get your situation figured out, baby.”
You turned your gaze to a shocked Bucky next to you, who took your handle with a gentle squeeze and a small nod, silently telling you that it would be okay. You nodded back, as you felt tears well in your eyes.
Then, you looked to Steve, who seemed much more calm about the whole situation as he and Nat exchanged glances. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and looked back at your mom.
“We want to buy the house,” he started, voice hopeful. “We were actually thinking of talking to you about it in a few months now that we have some money saved up. We know you’ve wanted to downsize, and we’ve always loved this house. It was actually Nat’s idea.” He looked at Nat again with a fond expression and she gave him her classic side smile. “We probably can’t afford what you would list it for, but we can give you a decent amount if that’s okay.”
Your mom smiled, reaching over to grab Steve’s hand, tears welling in her eyes as well. “I think I can work something out for my boy.”
Steve beamed, looking back at Nat with the brightest smile you had ever seen. Nat gave him a smile and winked, and you saw tears forming in her eyes as well.
“Does this mean we get to be neighbors again, Stevie?” Bucky asked, and you turned to find the face of a 12-year-old kid, grinning with excitement.
Steve leaned across the table, high-fiving his best friend. “Hell yeah it does!” Then, he directed his attention to you, expression serious. “Y/n, you’re welcome to live here with us if you want. Just to give you more time to find a place you can afford. We don’t want you to feel like you’re being kicked out before you’re ready.”
You shook your head. “I appreciate it, I really do, but I think it’s time for me to move out anyways. I can try to sell some of the pieces I’ve been painting recently, and maybe I can start teaching classes or something as a side job. I just really want to get a place for myself. I’ve loved living here and I cannot begin to express how much I appreciate you all being there for me while I got my shit- everything together. I love you all so much.”
“We’d do anything and everything for you, Y/n,” Nat said. “Whatever you need, we’re here to help. You’re not alone in this.”
Bucky squeezed his hand in agreement, and you met his eyes as he nodded at you.
“We’ll figure it out. Together, okay?”
There were still so many things to figure out, so many more stressful decisions to make and sleepless nights ahead.
But in this moment, you knew with unyielding confidence that with the people sitting around you, everything was going to turn out alright.
Which was what allowed you to smile at Bucky as you nodded back. “Okay.”
“Buck, this is supposed to be your day off,” you said, smiling from ear to ear as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, placing a kiss where the base of your neck met your shoulder, causing your head to momentarily spin.
He chuckled, warm air hitting your skin as he rocked you from side to side. “And?”
You shook your head, gesturing to the tool box he had rested on the bar upon arrival. “You should be home relaxing, not here at the bar working!”
He tsked, spinning you around and taking the broom from your hands, resting it on a stool and intertwining his fingers around you, an innocent smile on his face.
“Oak, you wound me.” He kissed your forehead. “How could spending my day with my favorite person be anything but the best possible option?”
Your giggle was cut off by his lips as they landed on yours, and you ran your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, drinking in every bit of Bucky as you could.
“Babe,” you muttered, finally pulling away, “You know that Sarah isn’t paying me to spend the whole time kissing you, right?”
He frowned. “You should really add that to your list of responsibilities, love.”
Rolling your eyes, you gently pushed him back and he complied with a pout, but you could still see the corners of his mouth fighting to curve their way up his beautiful face. “I’ll be sure to bring it up during a team meeting or something.”
He wiggled his eyebrows in agreement, opening up his tool box and moving toward the pieces of wood that were stacked at the back of the bar. You grabbed the broom, ready to start sweeping, but instead found yourself entirely too distracted by the way veins of Bucky’s arms popped out as he lifted one of the pieces of wood to the wall to get anything done.
He turned his head, two nails held securely between his teeth, to find you gaping at him. He gave you a side smile and a wink and you looked away, heat rising to your face.
“Think you can help me over here, Oak?” he asked, voice coated with smugness. You glared at him and he shook his head. “I promise I’m not gonna kiss you - even though I really, really want to. I actually need help keeping this shelf secured.”
You walked over slowly, expression still skeptical as you approached him. When you finally reached him, Bucky gestured to where he needed you to hold the piece and you complied. Right as he took the nails out of his mouth and grabbed the hammer at his side he smiled, then leaned forward with lightning speed for another kiss.
“Sorry,” he said when he pulled back to meet your glare. He shrugged. “Couldn’t help myself.”
He snuck in a few kisses here and there as you helped him build the new drink shelves, and you complained about it way less than you should have.
“So,” Bucky started a few minutes later, his eyes glued to the part of the shelf he was working on, “About the conversation at Thanksgiving.”
Your brows furrowed. “Which part? My mom abandoning us to live it up in the sunshine and Steve and Nat getting the house and me having no idea what I’m doing next?”
He snorted. “Yes. That.” He swallowed, still avoiding your gaze. “I know you said you didn’t want to stay with them because you didn’t want to be a problem - and I speak for everyone when I say I hope you know that is the farthest thing from the truth - and that you were okay with finding a place for yourself. I wanted to…,” he blushed, the man freaking blushed even though he still wasn’t looking at you, “I wanted to see if that was true? If you were okay and ready to live on your own? Because if not, you could, like….well I have an empty room you’re welcome to-”
“Are you asking me to move in with you?”
His head whipped over to you just as he was hammering a nail into the wood, and instead hit his thumb. “Fuck,” he swore, dropping the nails and looking at his thumb, then looking at you, eyes wide. “I mean, well yes, but only if you want to-”
“Holy shit are you okay?” you asked at the same time, holding up the wood with one hand and grabbing Bucky’s with your other to inspect his thumb.
“It’s fine, I’m fine, everything is fine. You know what? Let’s ignore the last two minutes and pretend nothing happened-”
The door to Wilson’s pulled open, and the two of you shot your heads in its direction to find Dum Dum Dugan strolling in.
His brows furrowed as he guided the door closed, sensing the tenseness in the air. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything…”
You and Bucky exchanged glances before you looked back to Dum Dum with a smile, shaking your head. “Not at all, Dum Dum! Good to see you.”
He grinned, nodding his head as he approached the bar. “Likewise. That’s partly the reason why I stopped by. I miss coming here and spendin’ time with ya.” His brows furrowed again and he looked at Bucky’s hand. “You okay, Barnes? Your thumb is turning purple.”
Bucky’s smile looked more like a grimace and he held up the hammer. “Good thing my football days are over, right coach?”
Dum Dum barked out a laugh, shaking his head and walking behind the bar. “Here, let me help.”
With the three of you working, the shelves were installed in no time. It was nice having Dum Dum there for company, catching up on how he had been since the fire, what he had been up to.
“I went down south to visit my sister and her family for the holidays, which was nice. But it’s still pretty annoying,” he muttered while you and Bucky shared a confused look, “I thought that in the week that I was away the police would have gotten back to me about my report.”
You pulled back from the shelf as Dum Dum hammered in the final nail, crossing your arms over your chest. “What report? Did something happen?”
Dum Dum scowled, eyes darting between you and Bucky. “Walker hasn’t reached out to you?” It was clear you still had no idea what was going on and he shook his head with a sigh. “That fucking ding dong.”
Dum Dum pulled out his phone as he continued, “I went to the station and met with John - because he was the only one working and I had no choice - a few days after the fire. Noticed a strange looking car in the lot as I was leaving all on its lonesome and took a photo of it because, well to be honest, I had never seen such a ridiculous, expensive looking vehicle in my life.”
He extended the phone to the two of you and you gasped, one hand reaching out for it while Bucky grabbed your other.
“When I showed this to John, he told me not to reach out to you or anyone. Said he needed to take care of it internally for legal reasons or some bullshit. Don’t know what the hell he’s been doing this whole time.”
You weren’t able to fully process that last part of Dum Dum’s story. Your brain was too busy focusing on the photo in front of you.
Of the bright yellow Tesla, with a California license plate.
“No fucking way,” you breathed out.
You called Sarah immediately, asking her to grab Sam and Sersi and get to the bar now.
They were there in 20 minutes, and after Dum Dum relayed his story to them, and showed the photo of Brock’s car in the Wilson’s parking lot with a timestamp that read 15 minutes before your 9-1-1 call to report the fire, Sersi grabbed her phone and started making a few calls.
“That motherfucker,” Sarah grumbled as her sister-in-law continued muttering into her phone.
Sam grunted in agreement. “I have half a mind to drive down to LA and kick that guy’s ass.”
“Get in line,” Sarah, Bucky, and Dum Dum replied in unison. Sam’s eyes widened and you let out a shaky laugh, the whole ordeal causing your entire body to freak out. Bucky heard the uneasiness in your voice and tightened his hold around your shoulder to comfort you.
When Sersi finally hung up, she looked you in the eye with a satisfied smile on her face.
“We got him.”
Things moved quickly after that. LAPD apprehended Brock at his home within the hour to take in for questioning. He gave a shit alibi that they were able to disprove almost immediately. Once he realized that he was caught, he still tried his best to save face, saying that he “only blocked the door to the bar to scare you, he didn’t think you would actually be trapped and might die.”
He was locked up and waiting to face trial for arson, destruction of property, and attempted voluntary manslaughter.
John was on permanent suspension from the Plainberry Police Department for not processing a formal report after Dum Dum had told him about the night at the bar like he should have. He tried to give a bullshit excuse that he didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but one death glare from Sarah had him cowering back and admitting that he fucked up.
And because Sersi was an absolute beast, and Brock was a total asshole that no one wanted to work with, she was able to forgo a trial and forced Brock to plead guilty for a slightly better sentence.
10 years in prison, permanent restraining order for you against him, and money for Sarah to cover damages for the bar.
Lastly, you would finally gain possession of everything Brock owned through your assets. The apartment, the car, and most importantly, your art.
It was all finally yours again. You were finally, completely free of Brock’s hold.
You knew you would never forget the feeling of Bucky’s arms wrapping around you as you cried from the overwhelming sense of relief, holding you up as the weight of all of the hope you had tried to let go of but still held onto had finally come to fruition. Telling you how proud he was as he kissed your temple, whispering that everything was going to be okay.
And it was.
You sold the apartment and the car, then auctioned off your remaining paintings to raise funds for a local domestic shelter.
You would never stop being grateful for the help and support you got from your friends and family once you returned home with almost nothing, and wanted to make sure that others would be able to find that same help when they needed it most.
You and Bucky were at his place chilling on the couch, his head on your lap as he read The Name of the Wind. You were simultaneously running your fingers through his hair with one hand and using a laser pointer to play with Alpine with the other, the chaotic sounds of her feet zipping around the floor and jumping up the walls mixing with the vinyl of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors playing softly in the background.
Throughout all of the craziness that ensued over the past few weeks since Thanksgiving, you were thankful for moments like this to keep you grounded. The calmness found in the in-between with your favorite person.
And now you were most likely going to ruin it all by opening your mouth.
“Yes and no,” you said softly, keeping your eyes trained on Alpine’s moving form as Bucky looked up at you.
“Hm?”
You swallowed. “That day at the bar, you said I could move in with you if I wanted.” Bucky’s body tensed, and he shot up to face you, nodding slowly. You put down the laser and began fidgeting with your hands on your lap, keeping your eyes locked on his. “I know you offered that when I was in a tight spot, which I’m not in anymore, and now that I think about it I should probably check to see if that was just you being nice-”
“It wasn’t,” Bucky cut you off, taking your hand in his. “I asked you to move in with me because I want you to.”
You smiled, leaning forward to press your lips to his.
When you pulled back, you answered, “Yes and no.”
Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “I’m still confused by this..”
You gave his hand a quick squeeze, and after letting out a long sigh, you continued, “Yes, I want to live with you,” his eyes brightened as his face switched to that boyish grin, “But-” the smile faltered slightly, “I just…..I don’t think I want to right now. I just got out of living with someone who for years belittled me and controlled every aspect of my life, and of course I know that you would never, ever put me in a situation like that. It’s just that I’m finally at a point where I’m learning to take care of myself, without having to put someone else’s needs before mine when they weren’t doing the same. I think I need to just live on my own for a bit, to prove to myself that though I can depend on others who love and care about me, I don’t need to. I want to know that I can take care of myself. So the answer is yes, of course I want to live with my favorite person on the planet, just not right now, if that’s okay with you.”
Bucky stared at you with a look of complete and total adoration, his thumb stroking your knuckles.
“Does this mean that if I ask again in a year-ish, you’ll say yes?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “No.”
Bucky frowned.
“I’ll say fuck yes.” And then you captured his laugh within your lips.
You sat in the makeshift art studio in your garage, adding some last minute touches onto the colorful canvas.
Finally, after one last stroke, you lowered the brush, leaning back to stare at your work.
This was unlike anything you had ever painted before. It had always been an idea, a spark of inspiration that rested deep in the back of your mind, but never something you felt any real desire to work on. It had always been too terrifying of a project to bring to life due to the fact that it was so raw, so real, so personal.
Because it was you.
Your eyes swept over the portrait of the woman before you. One who had been through hell and back again, lost herself in every sense of the way, and had somehow found her way back.
You looked at the bags under her eyes, the messy, frazzled hair, the roundness of her face.
The wideness of her smile while caught mid-laugh, her scrunched nose, the crinkles in the corners of her eyes, the slight sparkle within the irises brought only from pure and total joy.
Surrounded by leaves in various shades of red, orange, and yellow, as if a burning beacon of light. An imperfect woman caught in a perfect moment.
You raised a hand to gently run a finger along the apple of her cheek, and smiled.
She was beautiful.
Epilogue
End banner by the amazing @simmerandcry
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