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babylooneytoonz · 3 years

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Warnings: ANGST // REVELATIONS // TEARS // Sort of cried while reading Bucky parts // Bucky doesn't deserve this :((

Please find links to all the parts in my Masterlist here.💗

You were looking at Bucky so intensely, trying to listen to his words, let them sink in, that you didn't notice a man walking towards you. Neither did Bucky. You were so engrossed, for you had never heard this man talk of those times, infact, he had never said anything remotely closer to you than curses and grunts. This felt refreshing.

"Well, look who's here."

A voice snapped you back into reality, a frown creasing over your forehead.

"Wallis?"

For some reason, you were thankful when Bucky stepped towards you, the side of your arm now brushing against the fabric of his tshirt. He was quiet, but you knew he was watching.

"Since when do you date? From what I had heard, you hadn't landed yourself a man since we broke up."

"Life is more than just having a man, Wallis." You drawled on a smile, not failing to notice a flash of a frown grow over his forehead that he was quick to mask.

"Well aren't you going to introduce me to your man?"

That's when you turned towards Bucky, a faint blush paving its way to your cheeks. You didn't know why, but a current; a sudden surge of electricity flew through you when he called him your man.

"Who the hell are you?" Bucky finally spoke.

"My lousy ass of an ex husband who couldn't keep his cock in his pants," you retorted.

"You still let that affect you, don't you?" He smirked, causing you to stiffen slightly.

Bucky felt you tense up next to him but the warmth that you felt radiating from him was suddenly stripped away from you. But it was only when you saw Bucky wall up to him, towering over him with a glare equivalent to death in his eyes.

"You do know who I am right? I would walk away I were you. And leave her the hell alone, I'd fear my life that can be taken away with just whisk of my arm," you kept watching, as Bucky flexed the fingers on his metallic arm slightly, the arm glistening underneath the pale moonlight. You finally found your footing, and your numbness subsided, and ignoring the buzzing in the back of your head and the throbbing headache in your temple, you found yourself walking up to the men, only to place your arm on Bucky's arm, slowly drawing his arm down so you could take his hand, coiling your fingers against the cool metal.

You didn't know why it happened, and you didn't understand the logistics, but you suddenly felt safe, and you felt warm, although the icy metal was like ice against your skin. It even felt better when Bucky looked down, his eyes trailing over the way you were holding his hand, and he just tightened the grip, not wanting to let your hand drop.

"Let's go Bucky, he isn't worth it."

He nodded, and giving him one glare he turned around, still holding your hand, as the two of you walked away.

"You know, you always play the victim card, using how I cheated on you, but do you ever tell the others what you did? And what I lost? Because of you?"

The venom in his words was enough for you to stop walking, your heart beating wildly inside your chest. It had been a long time you had let yourself think of this, but now, the old wounds had been scratched, and the raw, seething pain was back.

"Why don't you tell the world what you did? And what you didn't do? You keep sitting on this high pedestal, and pretend that it's only you that has been treated like this, but news flash, you're just as guilty as I am."

The tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down your face, your chin trembling like that of a two year old. You had zoned yourself out completely now, Wallis' words playing in the back of your mind repeatedly, like bullets being emptied into your heart.

"Bucky," you managed to whisper, your voice low and broken, "take me home."

You were so lost in your thoughts; you paid no heed to the sick, cracking sound that echoed for a split second when Bucky's metal fist collided with Wallis' jaw, or the groan of pain that escaped his lips as he crashed against the cold concrete floor, holding his bleeding jaw. You could only hear the static in your head, when Bucky draped his arm protectively around your shoulder, and pulled you to him, his voice trying to call you back, but you were too gone, too deep into the water to swim back out, you were drowning in your own head.

"Let's get you back now, yeah? Doll, you're okay."

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

You were obnoxiously quiet all the way back to the Stark Towers. Bucky still hadn't let go off your hand, and he hadn't tried to make small talk with you, something you really appreciated right now. You couldn't talk, you didn't have the energy to, and neither the will.

The minute the elevators flung open, the two of you came face to face with Sam, Wanda, and Steve, who was leaning against the wall, his eyes giving the two of you the looks; the tiniest of smirks playing against his lips. Bucky watched, as Sam's lips parted, and he was about to say something, but at the right time Bucky brought up his palm, and motioned towards him to let it be, and all the smirks on their faces just died, worry filling them up instead.

Bucky quietly turned towards your apartment, walking you down the hallway, still holding your hand as you quietly followed him, your eyes lowered to the floor, while the three behind you followed the two of you, confused, but concerned about your well-being.

"I'll be right out, punk." Bucky said in a low voice to his bestfriend, who understood, that perhaps you needed your space right now, so he nodded and stopped following you, watching Bucky and you disappear into your apartment.

You sat down against the edge of the bed, slowly lifting up your eyes until you had your eyes trained on the super soldier. Your heart ached at the sight; he was standing by your walk in closet, confused, looking for something that you could probably wear for the night, something more comfortable.

"Hey, where do you, uh, keep your –"

Finally, after what felt like ages, you gave him a weak smile, and he gave you one back. You stood up, slowly walking up to him and placing your palm gently on his flesh arm.

"I've got it Buck, thank you, for everything you've done. You can go talk to Steve while I get changed. Yeah?"

You didn't mean to do it, and you had tried so hard for him to not feel like you were kicking him out, sending him away, but it did look like a bit of hurt flashed in his eyes, before he quickly masked it, and nodded, giving you a smile just for the show.

"Well then, I'll be back in my apartment, you can just call me on my cell if you, well, we do have Friday." He said, in a low monotone.

The two of you stayed like that for a few seconds, your heart melting just by gazing into his blues, when he slowly took a step away, ready to leave. You didn't let go of his hand, causing him to stop walking and turn slightly, gazing at how you were still holding his hand like a little lost child.

"I don't want to be alone, I was wondering if, well–"

A soft smile broke out against the corner of his lips, and a faint nod on his face.

"I'll be back, I just need to let them know you're okay. They are worried about you."

"I know." You nodded, both of you walking in different directions; one out of your apartment door, and the other into the closet.

You pulled out a plain white knee length frock, unbuttoning your jeans and rolling it down, until you stepped out of it. You then took off the shirt, hanging it neatly on one of the racks, so you could be reminded of taking the clothes out for laundry. Sliding your neck through it, you pulled the frock over your body, rolling it over until it fell to your knees.

Your eyes were feeling heavy, but you didn't wish to go to sleep. Instead, you laid down, pulling the covers partially over you and started staring at the ceiling. A sudden, hollow feeling hit you and you couldn't stop thinking about the things Wallis had spoken.

You had made mistakes, but there was not a single night you didn't wish to undo the things you had done, and hope that the things had gone differently.

Your chain of thoughts were broken when you heard Bucky walk in. He looked strained, but his shoulders relaxed the minute he saw you laying in bed. You turned your neck towards him, giving him a slow smile as you watched him walk towards the other side of the bed, lowering himself against the edge.

He got into bed with you, the weight of the other side of the bed now heavy. This made you realize, this was the first time you had let a man into your bed, and also perhaps, into your heart, after whatever happened two years back. Reflexively, you rolled over, until you found yourself in Bucky's embrace, your face buried into his chest, fitting like a perfect piece of a puzzle under the crook of his neck.

He smelled perfect.

His flesh hand came to rest at the back of your head, stroking over your scalp in a soft and soothing movement of fingers.

Finally, he took a deep breath and mumbled, his voice low and soft.

"I've seen many horrors, doll. And I thought I could never get back to who I used to be."

You blinked, looking up at him.

"But I realized one thing, although it didn't make the pain go away, talking about things made it easier to bear."

You almost sniffled a sob upon hearing his words, but Bucky heard you and he looked down at you, gazing into your eyes, until he leaned in and planted a soft, chaste kiss to your nose.

"They did monstrous things to me Y/N. Things I cannot even tell you, but I still am here, am I not ? "

You sighed into his embrace, resting your forehead against his sturdy chest, wanting to cry, to let it all out, but that would make you weak. And you didn't want to let this man see how weak you truly felt, how small as compared to the rest of the world.

"I wish it were that easy, letting go. You really can't let go Buck when your actions are responsible for someone innocent losing their life."

He almost raised an eyebrow but he didn't ask you what you meant. You only bit your lip, licking over your dry lower lip as you started thinking back again of how you could have done things differently.

"Well were once happy Buck, me and Wallis. We were in love, we were newly married. And then one day, he came along."

"Who did, doll?"

His ask was so raw, so innocent, you couldn't stop talking. So you did, pouring your heart out to a man who you had known for mere weeks.

"Danny, our son."

You felt Bucky stiffen slightly, but he didn't let go off you, he still held you to his chest, mumbling a small, but audible hum, to let you know that he was listening.

"He was the most perfect thing that ever was. He had my eyes, and he didn't cry. What baby never cries Bucky?" You chuckled, through your tears, that were now freely flowing down your eyes.

The truth was, Bucky couldn't understand all this; these emotions were new to him. He never had his own family, and he didn't understand what it was like having a son. Maybe though, he did think that it wouldn't have been bad, to have his own family, something that he had thought of back in the 1940s, but now, he couldn't anymore for he was not the same man he used to be.

"Well he never cried. He was one hell of a happy kid I tell you. Anyway, he was growing up so fast, and life was good. My boy was two already, and before I knew he was always running around our house, breaking things, knocking my fucking vases off the cabinets," the two of you were grinning at each other just thinking of a toddler running around the house, breaking things.

Until you sombred up, and the smile washed off your face.

"It was three nights after his third birthday, and Danny was with me, at home. Wallis was out, as usual, so I decided we would go take a walk, I really needed to clear my head."

You didn't realize that your lips were quivering now. Your eyes were already swollen, half lidded and glossy, and you were trembling like a leaf, even in the warmth that Bucky provided you, coated you in.

"It was a moonless night, and Danny wanted to have his favourite ice cream when they came out of nowhere."

"Who?" Bucky's voice got heavy suddenly, his eyes darkening two shades, his eyebrows forming a thin line.

"HYDRA."

You felt Bucky loosen his grip on you, the minute you said that word. You didn't blame him. After all, they were responsible for the mess you all were in today.

"I don't know what they wanted, but I was alone, and they were five. I failed, I failed to protect him. I could only watch–"

Bucky's finger flew up to your lips, his index pressing against your plump ones, forbidding you from speaking any further. His soft eyes looked down at you, and you could see that his eyes were moist.

"It wasn't your fault, baby."

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath; if only you could believe him.

"It wouldn't have happened, if I hadn't taken him out that night, if I would have been able to protect him–"

"You didn't know what they planned, and they were five."

You didn't reply, instead, you scooted closer into Bucky's embrace and he tightened his grip around you, pulling the covers over the two of you, his lips pressed to your forehead. You could feel his heart, because your face was pressed to his chest. His heartbeat was soothing and you found yourself relaxing to his touch, his warmth and the way he held you and your eyelids started feeling heavy.

"My son died with a fucking bullet to his skull." You suddenly pushed yourself away from Bucky and propped yourself up in bed, wrapping your arms around your frail body, pinching your eyes shut, ignoring the warm, thick tears rolling down your cheeks.

Bucky remembered talking to Steve, and how you had gone off the radar for two years and SHEILD hadn't assigned you any mission. Now he knew, that you had probably locked yourself up after what you had witnessed, and it wasn't your fault. He wanted to console you, to comfort you and he wanted to take this pain away, but he didn't know how to.

He was scared now; scared that you would shut him off, only when you were starting to open up to him.

"Y/N, it wasn't your fault."

He didn't know that his words will anger you even more, instead of calming you down. You slid out of bed, much to Bucky's surprise, and turned to face him.

"It wasn't my fault? Don't you see what I've done? Or what I could've done?"

You were screaming at him.

"You couldn't have done anything! Why don't you understand?" He slid out of bed too, almost yelling back at you in the same voice that you had used on him.

"Why the fuck would you still let that jerk get into your mind like that? Fuck your mind? He wanted this to happen, and you're letting him win," he spat, his hands on his hips.

The two of you were on the either side of the bed, giving each other a stare down.

"Bucky, you won't understand," you finally whispered, looking down at your hands, " you never had anyone to lose."

You didn't mean that. You really didn't. But now you wished you could swallow back the words you had just said. Just the look of hurt on the man's face was enough to make you feel guilty. He didn't deserve this. He didn't.

"Bucky, that's not what I meant, come here please?"

"Well, fuck, you weren't wrong. I am not used to this, having people, having connections, feelings and emotions. You're absolutely fucking right."

"Babe, I didnt–"

"But you know what? I'm okay this way. I have no fucking one to care about, or be cared for from, and I am okay with it. Because it's fucking simpler that way. Atleast it saves me the mess of being what you are today. You can't even forgive yourself for something you haven't even done."

He slid his feet into his slippers and turned away, facing the door. His hands were clenched against his sides, so hard, his knuckles were turning white. He finally started walking towards the door, when you called out.

"Where are you going?"

Your voice broke.

"To my own damn apartment, so I can be alone, like I always was."

The door slammed shut, and he was gone.

(So, thoughts anyone? 🥺)

Permanent Bucky Barnes Taglist:

@really-dont-forget-it

@thepeakygurl

@all-art-is-quite-useless

@baumarvel

@janajjj

@chipilerendi

@nyotamalfoy

@skittychat

@allidoiswritewritewrite

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#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #bucky Barnes #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky barnes

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lyricalimerence · 4 years

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10 Things I Hate About You • 001

masterlist • 001, 002, 003... coming soon

Chapter One — The Rule

summary: jj & rafe talk w/ the dean, regular expositional stuffs

word count: 1618

warnings: a singular swear word, sexual innuendos & use of euphemisms for terms used in writing smut, allusions to underage drug use.

a/n: i hope this chapter isn't boring 😔 but yALL IM BEYOND EXCITED TO START THIS YOU HAVE NO IDEA KDJD

The Kildare County High School of the Outer Banks in North Carolina is a tale of two cities. The Kooks and the Pogues each have their metaphorically crowned Princes and Princesses, and separate castes in their social hierarchies walking the halls. As one Kook Princess, Kacey Brooks, violently rips a poster advertising the Spring Fling dance off the bulletin board, the Pogue Prince, JJ Maybank, and the Kook Prince, Rafe Cameron, are just about to run into each other in the doorway of the Dean’s office.

The Dean is a thin woman with a raspy voice. She’s snappy, vulgar, and in the midst of writing plotless, and pointless, smut into a novel.

JJ is sat on the opposite side of the Dean's desk, starting at the HP emblem etched into the back of her computer, the clacking of the keyboard keys echoed through the office. He knew why he landed himself there, he just wished she would let him go already. She wanted him gone, he wanted him gone, cut out the middleman and let him leave. The Dean wanted to write out graphic ( and disturbing ) sex scenes, and JJ wanted to get to the quad where he could watch Gracie Brooks from afar in between second and third period.

The Dean carefully closed her laptop, her thin, almost witchy fingers treating her creative medium with more respect than she's ever shown the students of Kildare County. Tapping her thick, pink framed glasses up the tanned bridge of her crooked nose, her eyes settled on JJ. He leant backwards in his chair, tipping precariously on its back legs. He looked the same as he always did when he came face to face with the Dean; a heather grey Coors t-shirt with the sleeves cut off draped over his shoulders—the emblem on the center of his shirt was problematic in itself—, navy blue cargo shorts hung relatively low from his hips, but not enough that he was showing anymore than anyone wanted to see, and his black combat boots left black treds on the tile flooring from the rubber soles. Tousled blond tendrils of hair were more or less disheveled than usual as they curled around his forehead, shading his cerulean eyes that were watching the Dean expectantly.

“Alright, Maybank. You’ve been absent the past week.” She picked up the file that was placed next to her closed laptop, a single piece of printer paper sticking out of the manila folder. her eyes scanned the corner of the paper, just soaking in the most surface level information as to why JJ Maybank was sitting in her office—again.

He nodded slightly, just barely dipping his chin in acknowledgement. “Yes, Ma’am. Do you wanna know—” JJ knew their conversation wouldn't last much longer. The Dean wanted him in and out. She had to mark that the student was in her office as part of her job description, but she didn't actually have to offer them advice or discipline.

“That’s enough. I’m sure this will happen again, just don’t be so obvious next time.” The Dean, who JJ knew by first name ( they were that well acquainted ), stood out of her chair to shoo the blond out of her small workspace she grew to call… her imaginative corner. The needy, shit-for-brains teenagers that were in and out of the place all day were ruining the “aura.”

“Pleasure doin’ business with ya, Ma’am.” JJ replied as he turned on his boot-clad heel through the doorway, only to come face-to-face with Rafe Cameron. Rafe Cameron, the Kook Prince in all his Ralph Lauren polo glory. It wasn’t that JJ was short—he wasn’t at six feet tall—, but Rafe had two inches of height up on him. Even in a metaphorical sense, Rafe seemingly always had the upper hand. Whether it was from a financial, familial, or even school performance standpoint.

So, with a pointed glare ( that was returned by Rafe ), JJ stepped through the doorway, eager to rid himself of the Cameron boy's presence before he threw a punch for no reason besides intuition.

The Dean looked up as JJ walked away, leaving Rafe to turn in towards the interior of the office, a smirk that was bound to stick on his face like a silly childhood white lie, pulling at the corner of his lips. “Rafe Cameron,” her scratchy voice drawled as she dropped her clipboard about a foot onto her desk, letting the clattering sound echo. Rafe didn’t bother with the formalities of sitting down, he, like JJ, knew he would be in and out before he could say the words, “Outer Banks.”

“I see we’re making these visits a weekly ritual.”

“Only so I can see you, Ma’am.” His smirk widened into a sarcastic grin. Despite being so, outlandishly different, Rafe and JJ were uncannily the same. Even in ways they wouldn’t be caught dead with another person knowing about. “Should I play our collection of Frank Ocean songs?”

“Very clever, Rage.” She exaggerated her calling him Rage, his name was so close to the word and the word described almost his entire personality. The Dean relished in the irony. She picked up another manila folder, flipping through the papers inside she looked back towards the boy with disdain. “Says here you snorted coke in the cafeteria?”

Rafe sighed, what it said was absolutely the truth, but he couldn’t get by without putting at least a little effort in. “I was joking, I was pretending to do a bump when it was just salt.”

“Salt?” The Dean walked towards Rafe ready to push him out of her office, although the snorting of coke started turning gears in her crude brain. “That had to burn going down didn’t it? Next time, do it in the bathroom. Now, adios!”

With an exaggerated eye roll, Rafe left the Dean’s office, where she was opening up her laptop once more, muttering to herself, “Snorting coke...high sex? Bump, sounds modern.”

. . .

In the heart of the quad, as the wind picked up, blowing the remnants of an oceanic breeze across the grounds of the high school, JJ fell into step with his best friend—John B. Neither had materials needed for class. John B had a piece of paper stuffed into the back pocket of his shorts, and JJ was going off maybe having a pen or pencil in the amalgam of beer bottle caps and the paper with which he handrolls his joints jingling in one of the various pockets in his cargo shorts. Groups of people stand in their own, small congregations. There are the basic beauts—the Kook girls and guys that have nothing going for them besides their looks. Their parents make good money, enough to stay on Figure Eight, the rich side of the island, but not enough for them to be extraordinary in any feat. There are the surfers; they are Cut’s pride and joy. They adorn their lockers with stickers and listen to reggae music in the halls. One of the only groups in school that intermingled between social classes, that is to say the only group that blurred the line between Kook and Pogue, are the stoners. Lots of smoking weed, but sometimes someone can rope in something stronger. Normally, it was cocaine, considering the expansive market for the drug in the Outer Banks.

John B and JJ found another one of their close friends, Pope. The three Pogues were in their own little world, talking amongst themselves about possible storms heading in that would create surges perfect to surf when Gracie Brooks and her best friend, Arianna Chavez passed them. JJ’s attention was immediately caught. He was like a fish and whenever he talked to Gracie, saw Gracie, hell, whenever he interacted with her in any way, he would take the bait on the fishing rod. She was like a magnet, albeit, she didn’t quite return his feelings.

Gracie is one of Figure Eight’s finest. Her mother split a few years ago, and neither Gracie, nor her older sister Kacey Brooks, have told anyone why. Steve Brooks—Kacey and Gracie’s father—is an obstetrician, and one of the very few on the island. That in itself racks in quite the salary for the two Kook princesses to spend.

“Oh, my God,” he whispered, as the two girls passed him.

Gracie continued to preach the differences between “like” and “love” via the analogy of her high-top Converse to her Doc Martens. Arianna nodded her head in agreement. While there was just something about Gracie, whether it be her cookie-cutter looking exterior in short dresses or her allusions to a deeper meaning behind her relationships with her shoes, there was also something about Arianna. Before she became best friends with Gracie, she was more outgoing, more talkative, more eloquent with her words, but Gracie’s influence changed that, and if the universe was any indication, it seldom sure that Arianna would revert back to her pre-Gracie self after her influence is gone.

“Dude, you know the rule.” John B said, tugging on JJ’s shoulder as the blond sixteen-year-old almost followed Gracie, like he couldn't help but just be pulled into her wake. It was true, JJ did know the rule. It was widely known that the Brooks sisters Do Not Date. In Kacey’s freshman year, the rule was widely condemned by the male population until halfway through the year something snapped. She was no longer just another Kook Princess with preppy sundresses and vintage Reeboks. Now, all the fuss was on Gracie. Every guy was vying for her attention. She simply relished in the attention, and all JJ could do was pine quietly until graduation. Or, he could meddle. There was always that.

tags: @perkily @mortifiedposts @poguequeen @abigailpankow @curlybrownhairedboys @steverogers123 @outerbankslut @jayjaymaebank @jjssarah @whOreforharry @wowitswondergurl @anonymous0writer @kodi8314 @outrbank @aestheticcraze @kylosleftbuttcheek @x-lulu @dailygrace06 @calswildflower95 @insanitysparkles @prejudic3 @ilovejjmaybank @apoguecalledjj @xxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooo @calumbroutledge @rudys-pankow @bxllasanosa @write-from-the-heart @thelocalpogue @fandomsinapile @starkeymarkey @lovingxjj @beatement-l @drew-starkey @beckester @butgilinsky @kayak-huesgen

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#obx #outer banks #jj #jj maybank #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron #rudy pankow #drew starkey #jj maybank fic #rafe cameron fic #10 things i hate about you #outer banks fanfiction

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