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Gen gen ❤// 00s kid // callsign: lilith // "Gen's Character Moodboard Gallery" // angst addict
669 posts
The Mind Of A Broken Soldier (Leave Me Be, Chapter 2 )
The Mind of a Broken Soldier (Leave Me Be, Chapter 2 )
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Hello People of Tumblr ! It’s ya girl Hazel ! I am back again with another chapter which i am 100% sure NOBODY request it because nobody requested this story in the first place but i’m still continuing it because i feel like it. I was planning on continuing this story and give sly nods to WandaVision and The Falcon and The Winter Soldier here and there along the way. Not in this chapter but... maybe on future chapters. But I’ll see how this one goes and where my idea leads me to.
So you need to read Chapter 1 to be able to understand this chapter properly because this chapter is solely Bucky’s point of view of the reader and some random thoughts. I love reading novels and love their style of writing hence i aspire to write a decent and proper story fanfiction. I mean when you read some books, there will be several chapters viewed from that other characters’ perspective so i decided to implement that style to my story.
So once again, thank you so much if you decided to pop by, read it and love it. Don’t be shy to pop by my message box to share some ideas you have or maybe you just wanna vibe together, I’d love to do that with you guys too. But please please please don’t be mean if you don’t like it. FYI, this chapter is slightly shorter than the first chapter. Love, Hazel .
Disclaimer: No disclaimer or any warnings. But definitely do me and yourself a favour and check out Chapter 1 so you can properly comprehend this chapter with ease :)
Characters : Bucky x Reader; teeny weeny mention of Sam :)
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“Look man, I know we don’t really see eye to eye but I call to check on her…How’s she doin’?” Sam heaved a sigh of empathy from across the line.
I tightened my grip upon the thin, slick and smooth communication tool which now known as smartphone that I hadn’t had the chance to acquaint with. I let out a sigh of desperation, desperate of ways to haul her from the rabbit hole she’s now falling into. My fingers combing through my unruly long hair that’s bundled up in a disheveled bun. A bad habit of mine when I’m in desperation and anxiety.
“It’s been a week since Steve walked out from her life and if I’m being honest, Sam, she’s not doing very well. She’s…she’s been nestled up in her room since then.” I heaved another sigh of despair, my right human arm gripping the kitchen counter tightly in effort to prop myself while the other man-made hand still latched onto the phone.
“I even had to force feed her just to keep her alive for god sake.” I asserted whilst rubbing my right eye with the heel of my right human hand and quietly strutting towards her door. Leaning my side against the stark beige wooden door, plopping my ear against it to silently eavesdrop, just like how I had done countless times to check on her well-being without having to barge into the door. Soft whimper gradually shifted into muffled sobs. I closed my eyes, let my head hung low as if my neck was already tired enough to brace the weight of obstacles and desperation that merge into one and let out a long exhale.
“Gotta go, Sam… I’ll call you back.” I lowered my voice into mutter and hung up.
Even though I had known Steve for so many years, sometimes I still couldn’t decipher what’s in head. Recalling back to the 40s, way before he and I even considered enlisted into the army, women would always prefer me over Steve to take me out as their dancing partner when we’re at the bar. I felt bad for him and he’d sometimes complained that if only there’s the one out there who would see him through his frail and tiny stature. Seventy three years later, he abandoned the woman who’s been through with him through thick and thin, put up with his stupid decisions and god knows what more for eight years, for Peggy.
The woman whom he knew for only two years and only dated briefly.
The woman whom he’d share his infatuation and obsession with.
The woman he met at the army who didn’t even spare him a glance…not until after he’s gone through physical changes then eventually decided to give him a chance.
I wouldn’t even consider that as official if they only exchange flirting and longing glances at the office…
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bar…
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and even Howard Stark’s Lab.
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Clasping my hand upon the door handle, I levered it down and pushed open the door generating soft creaking from the hinge. I tiptoed my way in and left the door ajar. There she was… dressed down in only white camisole and panties while curled up in a fetal position upon the bed which was a bit too spacious now for a single person. Her back facing towards me, shoulders quivering from muffling her own sobs into whimper.
Oh Steve… what have you done…
I slowly crept my way towards her and slowly sank myself on the bed. I was hesitant to lay next to her but I tried to push that thought away considering her mental health was already at stake. If I left her untended, she might eventually spiraled into deep depression and she’s already halfway there. So I laid next to her, draped my arm over her frail, delicate and small body to hold her close as if sheltering her from her own whirlpool of emotions . While offering her the comfort of silence, my mind wander off to how on earth Wanda dealt with her own grief… poor kid not only lost her significant other but also her twin brother and parents as I was informed by Sam. My train of thought was halted when I heard her croaked a rhetorical question,
“H-h-he’s not coming back, is he? Did that prick even try second guessing his decisions?”
I wish I could do more than being her shoulder to cry on and dragging Steve back by the ear. That punk really took all the stupid with him. I contemplated whether I should say something decent to comfort and lift her spirit but I retracted. “I’m sorry, Doll… “ Were the only words I could muster from my still-healing disrupted mind. After Hydra’s infamous torturous events and being sent away to Wakanda to get my mind fixed. I found that I had difficulties of expressing my thought and feelings emotionally from the years of being over-electrocuted and memory-wiped conducted by Hydra, more strenuous than my old self. Not that I couldn’t do it but I realized it took more time to do so.
But even so I still try to rack my brain, dig deeper to find something nice to say; to make myself feel a tad better for at least doing something good in my life for once after the horrendous past, to at least counteract all those gruesome dirty work I unconsciously did to the others.
“I tried talking some sense into him, but he was very adamant of his decision. That punk…I’m really sorry…” i tried to string those words together carefully, worried that one step further or slight wrong move might set the fire ablaze even more. At this point, I was scared considering I had never connected to women emotionally. Sure I’d dated many women back in the 40s, but never considered them seriously… Now I know how it felt to wear their shoes, to know how it felt to be ditched and forgotten, even though I didn’t experience it firsthand.
Running out of options and words to say, I scooted closer whilst tightened my embrace and inhaling her scent, a hint of fresh bed linen and lavender; Steve hates it when women used too much perfume to the point it’s suffocating. I remember he’d always complained about the atrocious penetrating smell of perfume whenever we walked past the women at the bar.
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“Doll… tell me what to do… I can’t bear seeing you breaking apart like this and I am running out of ways to numb your pain…” I consoled.
I used to be a good pep talker, a great one even; constantly spewing encouragement and lending a piece of advice or two to Steve. But I guess I had to shift my roles and be the good listener instead.
I did not expect her to open her heart and confide everything, as if she was confessing everything to me. I could only fervently listen to her anguish secrets that had been tormenting and keeping her awake. I felt really bad for the insecurity and self- doubt she had to endure these past years. Constant comparison with Peggy and doubting herself; nevertheless, she still fought her way to prove her worth… such strenuous and tenacious effort just to keep Steve’s attention to her…
Oh Steve… if only you’re in my position now, you’d know how much effort it took for her to keep up with your fantasy. They said love is full of sacrifices but not as much sacrifice from one side, both sides needed to make equal sacrifices to make things work, if one sacrifices too much, they’d weaken because they’re giving out too much and eventually died, just like her.
I knew Steve was always oblivious with things, but never as horrid as this. My heart sympathized and mourned for her. Eight years of relationship that she fought so hard to keep slipped out of her hands just like that.
“I-i-i-it h-h-h-urts, Buck… it hurts…He’s my first love, first kiss and…”
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I felt her body shook under my embrace. No longer able to withstand her emotional suffer, I tried to soothe and lull her to sleep.
“I know, Doll. But I promise you’ll get through it, I promise to be with you every step of the way. We will get through it. I am not going anywhere. I am not going to walk out this door, not until you kick me out because you’re so sick of looking at my face. You have my word, Doll. I am staying.” I promised.
I promised myself I’d be there to pick up the pieces regardless of any circumstances, because it’s the right thing to do. I’d be there to hoist her up when no one else could. i’m doing what a good friend would do... It’s the right thing to do … Right?
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Minors DNI with my works please. Do not copy, rewrite, translate or post my work anywhere. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work.
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Like all good things, it happened by accident. Steve’s been learning new things about himself recently, most of them thanks to you. God, he doesn’t know what he would do without you.
The first time the thought occurred to him was during training.
The lower level of the compound is split into a gym, sparring room, locker rooms, two saunas and a few offices that are mainly used for storage. On any given day, it’s packed with agents or avengers preparing for the next mission.
While you weren’t an Avenger or an agent, Steve wanted you to learn some basic defense techniques. So here you were in the middle of a Saturday afternoon across from your boyfriend.
Just the two of you in the gym, the faint smell of rubber, sweat in the air. The low whirl of the overhead air conditioner echoing through the large room.
You watch Steve explain his plans for you, you’re distracted by his attire. His grey sweatpants sitting loose around his hips, that vein going down his pelvis visible, the drawstrings untied hanging over his bulge swaying with each step. His tight white t-shirt hugging his muscular chest, his large hands moving in the air while he described defensive techniques. His biceps flexing, the tshirt straining to contain him.
“Are you listening to me?”, Steve asks, carding a hand through his golden locks.
He steps in front of you, pushing your chin up with his thumb, “Hey my eyes are up here”.
Keep reading
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