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asgardianthot · 4 years

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Flesh And Bones - Part 4

Soulmate AU

Series Masterlist

words: 2641

A/N: sliight warning for self-harm but like, the tiniest warning. Our dumb-dumbs are fine:)

Sam’s body healed faster than expected, but lacking the super-healing factor some of his teammates were blessed with, he was stuck at the tower for over a week. Bucky had chosen to ignore the common spaces at the tower as much as possible, since Sam spent way too much time over there and he didn’t want to run into the six feet of unspoken truth. His nervousness skyrocketed whenever he saw Sam, and the feeling of horror increased with the passing of every minute of the day. Eventually, he would have to come clean. Just not yet.

Laying on his bed and watching garbage television, he sensed a presence staring at him. When he turned to check his open door, Steve had planted himself right outside.

“I’m off to a meeting.” He told Bucky instead of a proper greeting, “Wanna come with me?”

He was all suited up in Captain American gear, which Bucky had grown sort of used to. However it never ceased to amuse him how he never put on a goddamn tux to go to the office like normal people. After scanning the serious blonde man, Barnes tuned back into whatever the TV was broadcasting, although not paying real attention to it.

“Maybe next time.” He said with a warm tone.

There was a hearable sigh, maybe a little too forced, and Barnes had to return his attention to his friend. He had a feeling he was about to get a good ol’ Mr. Righteous lecture.

“Listen, Buck…” Steve started, yet never stepping into the room in order to not invade his privacy, “I need to talk to you. About the other night.”

Bucky simply sat up straighter on his bed and gave Rogers a tiny grin.

“Are you reading too much into something again?” he teased, trying to sound convincing.

Steve had found him out of breath from the pain, on the kitchen floor, and somehow had foreseen that Sam was currently in danger. If it didn’t startle Steve in the slightest, he would have been a terrible agent. Yet when it came to his best friend from childhood, he held an invincible trust towards him; so he wanted to find an explanation, and he wanted to give Bucky the opportunity to give him one, because if there was one thing he was sure about was that something weird was going on.

Therefore, Bucky’s aloofness was met by the infamous Rogers face of disappointment.

“Can we talk?” he tilted his head. “On the way there?”

Bucky kept trying to keep his composure as he lied to his best friend.

He shrugged, “I don’t feel like talking about food intoxication on a way to a meeting I’m not needed at.”

“Well, now that you mention it…”

“I don’t work enough. Noted.” Bucky rolled his eyes, already knowing what would come next, and he certainly wasn’t in the mood for that lecture, “Goodbye, Steve.”

After a few seconds of silence, Rogers gave up. He pursed his lips and straightened his back, dropping most of his affection and letting seriousness take the wheel.

“Fine, don’t come.” He let out, mildly upset, “But can we talk? Later?”

Barnes didn’t reply, and that was enough of a reply. Met by silence, the Captain nodded and turned on his heels to walk away. He had places to be, but nothing could remove the cloud above his head telling him Bucky was keeping important information to himself. He knew when Buck wasn’t alright, which only raised his suspicions even more. Silence.

The former spy had set something short of a routine: he would avoid everyone during the day, barely socialize in order to get lunch or breakfast, and at night, he would stay up late, go to the training room and at some point he would eat. Stepping into the kitchen at a time when everyone else were probably asleep, he headed for the fridge to get his usual night snack.

As he grabbed a glass from the top shelf and filled it with water, his mind was all over the place; he thought about Sam and how perhaps he should have been more present towards his healing process. He thought about how his bones didn’t hurt anymore, so hopefully Sam’s didn’t either. He wondered if he could have been of use, but the idea of being near the man when he knew what he knew made his stomach churn.

Lost in his laments, he was less than careless and knocked over the glass of water, which shattered all over the floor. Thankfully, no one would hear the blaring sound from their rooms, but he feared he had another problem when he realized he had stepped on a piece of glass. There was an acute but small ache in his sole, which meant there was an acute but small ache in Sam’s foot as well.

“Shit, shit, shit.” He cursed under his breath as he frantically looked for something to clean it up.

Blood tainted the low puddle of water on the tiles. If someone linked the broken glass to Bucky, there was an even bigger chance of Sam linking all the dots together. He bent down to get all the pieces together and get rid of the evidence while his chest filled with panic. It was just a small cut, the tiniest glass stuck into his foot, how could something so insignificant mean so much?

Bucky’s throat stung with tears. He was unable to battle his own need to cry, but after a whole five seconds of gasping for air, he stopped himself. He pressed his lips together and cleaned the wet cheek and eyes, before resuming his task with a deep breath.

Sam wouldn’t find out about the glass; he had actually slept through the incident for the sting wasn’t bad enough to wake him. However Barnes didn’t know that. Which was the reason why his heavy feelings made him go extra hard training that night.

He punched the bag as hard as his worries fueled him, and he sweated, and he frowned, and he pushed himself to the limit without taking notice of it, and eventually, he pushed his flesh hand as far as he pushed his metal one.

And he cracked his wrist.

Sam jolted awake with a piercing pain on his right wrist and hand. He massaged it for a minute as the sleep left his eyes, and then he walked to his bathroom in order to run cold water over the injury. Hopefully, that would ease the pain. Or hopefully, his soulmate would stop doing whatever was putting them in pain’s way so often.

Sam wasn’t like Bucky when it came to the common room; the veteran showed up there very often, and he never avoided Barnes. Especially now that he had been prevented from going to missions and was discharged from meetings for a week, he looked forward to getting some company. Bucky was always at the tower.

But through Sam’s recovery, the soldier was nowhere to be seen. Now that he was mostly cured, Bucky was still very reserved, and if Sam had been able to admit it to himself, he would have said that it made him sad not to see him on schedule for their routine mockery.

The morning after his wrist woke him up, though, instead of cheerily entering the room, he stormed in. Natasha and Steve were sitting at the coffee table, drinking from colorful mugs when the scene broke down.

"Okay.” Sam said loudly, “I don't know who my soulmate is but-"

Natasha almost choked on her drink, "Sorry, your what?"

She opened her eyes wide, placing the mug down. She looked for answers in Steve’s face, who shrugged it off like she should have been aware of this new information.

“Yeah, we talked about this, catch up." Rogers made a gesture for Sam to continue.

Romanoff simply raised her eyebrow and accommodated to the conversation as Wilson took a deep breath and completed his sentence.

"-but I hate this!” he took out his anger on stern hand gestures and a ranting-appropriate tone, “They're dumb. They get hurt, like, all the time."

The redhead gave him a sympathetic look, but behind it, she was doing a true effort to hold back her laughter. On his part, Steve was actually happy for his friend, and after being informed of every small injury that Sam had felt, he could only smile and hear him protest.

"What was it now?" he asked, almost like a proud parent.

"My hand, they wrecked it!" Sam lifted the hand in question.

Natasha frowned, "Wait, so... are they close?"

"It hurt like hell, so I bet they gotta be!" Wilson placed his left hand on his hip and looked away in exasperation.

"How close?" Steve asked.

Sam shook his head, "I don't know..."

It was at that very exact and precious moment that a new arrival interrupted the scene.

Bucky walked in and didn’t make eye contact with any of them, even though all three’s eyes darted towards him. Especially, towards the white colored fabric on Bucky’s hand. It seemed like Steve, Natasha and Sam all squinted at the same time trying to decipher what their eyes couldn’t help but link: on Bucky’s wrist was a set of bandages.

Suddenly, the room went impossibly quieter. Not even a hitch of breath was heard, which made Bucky a little uncomfortable, and realize he was being observed. He stopped on his tracks and tried to non-suspiciously hide the bandages, but it was of no use. Concealing it wasn’t an option anymore.

Sam’s eyes went wide as the thought hit him. Meanwhile, the other two spectators were already running full equations in their heads, for they did not believing their eyes. Bucky’s eyes met Sam’s, and the feeling of being judged and exposed by Sam’s dilated pupils caused him to slide his hands inside the pockets of his hoodie.

"Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me." Sam finally let out.

All that Barnes did was swallow hard.

"You?" Sam practically barked.

He seemed so bothered at the idea of being Bucky’s soulmate that the latter had to try and deny it. The brunette blinked fast.

"I don't-" he stopped and cleared his throat, "The hell you talking about?"

Wilson pointed a finger to the pocket where the bandaged hand was hiding, "That, I felt it."

After receiving no reply nor reaction whatsoever, Sam began getting a picture of the situation; he stood there frozen and found himself even a little offended.

"You knew?"

Bucky shook his head, then stepped back, "I-"

"Bucky." Steve’s voice broke the interaction, trying to get him to not be a dick and offer Sam an explanation.

The ex-assassin rejected the possibility. If he could convince them that it wasn’t happening, perhaps he could pretend that it wasn’t happening for a few more days. He took a breath and put on a straight face.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He simply stated.

It came to Wilson’s attention that the man in front of him was employing the same kind of uninterested, and therefore condescending tone he used when they had discussed the topic of soulmates. It felt like he was being played.

"What? You're saying you didn't break your hand last night?” Sam began attacking Barnes more firmly, now fully angry at the situation, “’Cause I've been feeling your hands."

He meant both the torn wrist and the aching knuckles. Now it made sense. Now he figured out that Bucky trained at night, which is why he never joined him or Steve at their workouts.

"Wilson.” Bucky lowered his chin as if attempting to be convincing. “Stop it, you're wrong."

"Am I, now?"

Barnes took a look around and found every stare burning a hole on his head. He was beginning to think there was no escaping the truth.

"Yeah, man, leave me alone.” He insisted, “It's all in your head."

Sam raised his eyebrows, far beyond the question if he was feeling offended or not.

"Now I'm crazy."

"Yeah, I know you're obsessed with soulmates or whatever.” As soon as the harsh defense came out of Bucky’s mouth, he reflected on taking it back, but he reckoned he was in too deep now, “But I ain't it." He assured the man.

That was the bottom line of Samuel Wilson’s patience. It was bad enough that he felt stupid for not knowing his soulmate was right there all along, but to top it with the fact he hadn’t told him and had kept the secret for God know how long, and now he was denying it to his face, that had Sam feeling more than upset. He felt betrayed. He felt like he hadn’t received his opportunity of processing it, nor the option of denial. Instead, he had to deal with the realization and with the idiot in front of him.

Snapping, the veteran walked to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer from the inside. Everyone in the room watched as they thought he would leave and drink his anger away, but instead he held the bottle, held a defiant eye contact with his recently-found soulmate, and broke glass item against the counter.

The shattering sound was even rougher than the one Bucky’s glass of water had made last night, and it provoked all three spectators to jump in shock.

“What-?” Natasha let out in concern.

Before they knew it, Wilson was holding a piece of broken glass on top of his extended palm, threatening to cut his own flesh. He had seen a desperate soul at the park where he jogged pull a stunt like that one before, hoping to find their true love that way. Sam had thought that stranger was impulsive and deranged, and now he was doing the exact same thing. he was staring right into the face of his soulmate, and still, he was a desperate soul.

"Sam-" Bucky started as he feared for Sam’s next step.

"You're telling me you won't feel this?” Wilson tried to get under his skin, make him react, “I do this, you won't feel it?"

Before he could even think about slicing his palm open with the sharp item, Steve rushed and took it away from his friend.

"Sam, calm down." He begged him, dropping the glass to the floor.

Yet Sam didn’t pay attention to Steve, "No, tell me!" He stretched his neck to still see Bucky past Steve’s intercepting body.

"Shut up." Bucky mumbled, looking away.

There was no way for him to process the petrifying event taking place outside the kitchen area. He couldn’t say it out loud, he couldn’t say he was sorry for lying, he couldn’t even deny their reality anymore.

"How long have you known?" Wilson continued, less frantic this time, but Rogers still stood in front of him and stopped him from doing anything stupid.

Bucky clenched his jaw, “Stop it.” He said just as low as his last line.

“How long, Barnes?”

"Shut up!" He finally shouted, coated in such despair that his voice came out with every bit of emotion he had been holding back.

The room went absolutely quiet after that. Steve moved out of the way in order to face Bucky, but also since Sam had frozen his body after that scream, and there was no use of a bodyguard anymore. With everyone expecting to hear Bucky’s next words, including himself, he cleared his mind and spoke from the heart.

"I know since your mission." He confessed before walking away and disappearing into the hallway.

Somehow, the most appalled person in the room was Natasha; while the two men stared at the floor in defeat, Romanoff looked like she had just witnessed an episode of a television drama in real life.

#sambucky #marvel fanfiction #sam x bucky #bucky barnes #sam wilson #soulmate au #tw: injury #sam/bucky #sam wilson x bucky barnes #ftws #the falcon and the winter soldier #angst

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bbuckyybbarness-blog · 7 years

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Upstairs, Downstairs Part 1

Summary: A painfully shy dental assistant at the tower gets an unexpected group of friends, and with them comes a whole new world that she never bargained for.

EVENTUAL Bucky x Reader. Reader becoming close friends with the team, especially Steve.

Written in 1st Person, POV of the reader, unless otherwise stated.

TW: Swearing, extreme shyness, that’s really it for this chapter?

Word Count: 1455

A/N: Hi Dolls! So this is a request I received from the lovely Sascha (@loveyourselfcreateyourself). It started out as a one shot that is now going to be in a couple of parts, because as soon as I started writing it, I got carried away, my mind took over! Anyway, enough from me, I love all your support and feedback! Thank you so much <3

P.S – I have a Steve x Reader one shot that will be coming soon, and a Sebastian Stan x Reader piece ready to go, so keep your peepers open for those if you’re interested. Also, please let me know if you want to be permanently tagged in my stuff, as I’d be happy to oblige. Again, I love y’all –Rae xo

1. What the fuck have I got myself into?!

“Ugh.” The alarm, the stupidly loud, annoying alarm. Look, whoever told me that setting your favourite song as your alarm tone is a good idea, was a damn liar. “Time to get this show on the road Y/L/N”

I dragged my ass out of bed and started the routine. Brush my teeth, hop in the shower, dry myself, get dressed…well, you know the drill. The same old shit day in and day out. Not that I’m complaining, I have a good life. A good job, a steady wage, there’s really nothing I should complain about. But, and it’s a small but, I’m lonely. I know right, pass me the violin. I’m so shy that I can’t make friends easily, and when people talk to me, I freeze like a deer in the headlights. I’m so painfully shy, that I physically cannot talk to someone without looking like I’m in pain, and people mistake this for me being a stuck up bitch. I’m not, honestly I’m not, believe me, if I could talk to people without choking on the words, trust me, I would. It would make my job a million percent easier, and I might have even become a dentist by now, but such is life, things could be worse.

So, with that bombshell roaming around my head, and let’s face it, when is it not roaming around my head, I headed to work. I open the door and the crisp morning air slaps me in the face, as if to say, ‘wake up.’ I start my usual walk to the tower, overthinking the social interaction with the Chinese delivery boy last night, when I mindlessly check the time. 8;57?! Shit. I start at 9.

I sprint the entire way to the tower. I could give Usain Bolt a run for his money if I carry on the way I’m going. I was so focused on getting to the tower, that I wasn’t even thinking about the glass door. And yep, you guessed it, I run straight into it. At full speed. This sends me and my glasses flying to the ground. I pick myself up, dust off my uniform and reach around for my glasses. Like Velma, from Scooby Doo. When I finally find them, they’re broken.

‘Shit, great, this is perfect, fan-dabby-fucking-dozy’ I mutter to myself, ‘And now I’m five minutes late, for fucks sake.” Time to face the music, and probably get fired.

“You’re late.” Dr Green never even looked up from his paper. This Professor Snape looking asshole was the bane of my very existence. The only thing I hate about work is this cretin.

“I know I am Sir, I am so very sorry, it won’t happen again, I had some trouble on the way here, and then I fell down, and broke my glasses and-“ I trailed off, explaining myself as quickly as I could to avoid being given the heave-ho.

“Not bothered, don’t care. So, you’re late to work, and show up blind. Brilliant. Fat lot of good you’re going to be today. Go and fetch in the next patient Y/L/N, IF you can see him,” Fuck this guy. He’s such an asshole. He manages to make me feel unqualified AND about two inches tall within 10 seconds. He insists on me calling him Sir or Dr, which automatically makes me hate him. I mean come on, you’re a fucking dentist dude. You don’t go saving people’s lives and shit on the regular. No, that’s what the Avengers are for. Asshole.

“Yes Sir.” I slam the door. God he pisses me off. “Thank god I did break my glasses, means I won’t have to look at your ugly mug all fuckin’ day” I mumble under my breath.

“Ooh shit, who pissed you off sweetie?” Sam Wilson. Of course he heard you, and he was the patient today, brilliant. If your lateness didn’t give you the boot, cursing in front of an Avenger was certainly going to seal the deal.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry for the profanity, sir. No one was meant to hear that. Dr Green is ready for you“ And he laughs. No actually, he doesn’t laugh. He howls. This dude is screaming his ass off at me.

“What’s your name?” We could use someone who is a good laugh like that upstairs. Ease the tension” Upstairs. UPSTAIRS?! Upstairs is where they all live, upstairs is a no-go for people like me.

Oh, if you haven’t figured it out by now, I work for the ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’ themselves. Well, not for them specifically, but we are the in-house, on call 24/7 dental practice for them. Which is basically the same thing, right? I mean in makes total sense, with the amount of fighting they do, they’re gonna be losing some teeth, or chipping them at least. And they need someone here all the time, to fix them back up again, and that’s where we come in. And hey, at least it means I’ll always have a job. Unless I’m ever late again.

“I’m-um-my name-is-Y/N. Y/N, Y/M/N, Y/L/N, sir. It’s an honour to be working for you.” There he goes again, bent over in the waiting room, cackling.

“I could get used to that treatment.” He manages to breathe out between laughs.

“Sir, Dr Green is waiting?” I stumble over my words, as bloody usual.

“Oh shit yeah, sorry.”

I walk into the dental theatre and take my chair next to Green.

“Ok, Falcon, what seems to be the problem here?” he starts, as if it wasn’t obvious. The guy is missing a front tooth. Even I can see that and I’m half blind!

“Erm, well. My tooth got knocked out during a mission again.” He lifted his top lip to show the gap where it had been taken. After a little examination, Green turned around to me.

“Prepare Mr. Wilson’s moulds. He needs this doing as soon as possible. If you can see the file.” He makes my skin crawl and my palms itch.

“Certainly Sir, right away.” I smiled sickly sweet at him. Kill ‘em with kindness, it’s the only way to stop myself from killing him for real.

I know my job inside and out, I could do it in my sleep. I just lack the social confidence to take it a step further, and with Green putting me down all the damn time, I second guess myself. Anyway, the procedure went without a hitch and I was soon escorting Sam back to the reception area. I fumble around the desk to finish some last bits of paperwork for Sam before he leaves.

“Hey, Y/N. When are you on your lunch break?” Huh? What? Why is he asking?

“Oh, um, it’s at 1.30, sir.” There I go again, tripping over my words. The feeling I get in my chest when speaking to someone is what I’d akin to being stabbed feels like.

“Ok, well, why don’t you come upstairs for your lunch? Floor 47. I want you to meet the team. Without them having weapons of torture hanging out of their mouths. Unless Barnes gets snappy, then you have my full permission to poke him with a pointy metal object.” He laughs once again, he was being really kind, but if I’m like this with just him, what will I be like with the whole team all at once. Nuh-huh, no way, no how, I’d rather die.

“Er, Mr Wilson, I don’t think that-”

“Sam. Please, call me Sam. Or Falcon. Or Hot Stuff. Whatever works.”

“Ok then, Sam, I’m not sure that this is appropriate.” But it sure would piss off ole’ Greeny.

“1) It’s your lunch, you can do whatever you damn well please. 2) You don’t like Dr Green, and I imagine some time away from his ‘ugly mug’ will do you some good, and 3) I’m asking you to. You’re funny. You don’t need to be nervous, they’ll love you. Trust me, please Y/N? What have you got to lose?” Upstairs. I’ve been officially invited UPSTAIRS to have lunch with THE AVENGERS, THE FUCKING AVENGERS! This stuff never happens, ever. It’s like Downton Abbey, you have the high class upstairs, and the scullery maids and servants downstairs. It’s not like I can really see them anyway because of my glasses, it’s not as if I’m going to become friends with them. They’ll not even remember me until they come in with a cavity, and probably not even then. Fuck it, you only live once right?

“Ok Sam. I’ll be there. Floor 47. 1.30” a burst of energy runs through me, giving me a little pep in my step.

“Really?! That’s great! They’re gonna fuckin’ love you, I swear” That’s it, nothing more said. He’s gone. And I’m having lunch with the avengers.

What the fuck have I got myself into?

TAGS: @cami23593 @alittlewerewolfgirl @electronicstrangerdaze @buenostardissherlock @blissful-fantasy @secretlittledelights @aelania @smilexcaptainx @maddierose0015 @barnes-toddpartnersinheartbreak @brokenanxiety (If any of ya’ll don’t want to be tagged in this or any future stories of mine. Please let me know. I thought I’d give you the option. –Rae xo)

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