Marvel: Reader Inserts

Taken Care Of ~ Bucky Barnes x Reader

You weren't expecting it to hit hard today. It started as a dull ache early in the morning, the usual kind that lived with you like a roommate you never wanted. You'd hoped it would stay manageable, but by the afternoon, it had wrapped its claws into your back and lower belly like a vice, leaving you hunched over and breathless on the couch in your apartment.

Your heating pad was on its highest setting. You'd taken painkillers hours ago, but nothing was touching the worst of it. It felt like your body was revolting, cramping and pulling like it was trying to wring itself inside out. There was also the fatigue that made everything worse. You didn't even have the strength to shower or change out of the ratty old sweatpants and oversized tee you'd slept in.

That's exactly how Bucky found you. You'd forgotten that he was supposed to come by after training. The lock clicked and the door creaked open as you curled tighter into yourself, trying to will the pain away.

"Hey, doll—" He greeted. It was cheerful at first, but the moment he laid eyes on you, his voice dropped. "Whoa. What's wrong?"

You tried to sit up so that you didn't look like a pile of misery on the couch, but you barely made it upright before a fresh cramp shot through you, leaving you gasping and gripping your abdomen.

"I—" Your voice cracked. "Sorry. I forgot you were coming."

Bucky crossed the room in three long strides and knelt beside you, worry etched across his face. "Don't be sorry. Are you hurt? Did something happen?"

You shook your head, unable to meet his gaze. The shame hit you like a wave. You hated being seen like this— weak, puffy-eyed, and your body betraying you. "It's just... my period... Endometriosis flare. It's bad today."

Bucky was quiet for a second, and you braced for the awkwardness. For him to fumble through sympathy, and maybe crack a joke to lighten the mood. Instead, he surprised you.

"Is there anything I can do?" He asked.

"What?"

"I mean it, sweetheart. Tell me what you need."

Your throat tightened. "But— I— It's gross. I look awful. And it's not just cramps, it's like... knives. And I'm bloated, and I can't even stand upright and—" You stopped pressing your hand to your eyes. "I never wanted you to see me like this."

Bucky reached up, carefully removing your hand from your face. "You think I care about any of that? Doll, you've seen me at my worst. I've had panic attacks in your arms and nightmares and my out of control metal arm. But you stayed. You didn't even flinch."

"I just never wanted you to feel like you had to deal with this."

"I want to. Because I love you. All of you. Even the days where your uterus is being a bitch."

A wet laugh bubbled up from your chest despite the pain. "You're ridiculous."

"Yes, but I'm yours."

Bucky kissed your forehead as he stood and got to work without another word. He dimmed the lights, grabbed your softest blanket from the bedroom, and dug the stronger heating pad out from under your bed. He brought you water, pain meds, and a hoodie from his duffle bag. Then he climbed onto the couch behind you, coaxing you to lie back against his chest.

"You're my brave girl," he whispered as you curled into him. "And I'm gonna be right here. Even if all I can do is hold you."

His flesh hand rested against your stomach, warm and steady. You felt yourself relax for the first time that day.

"You sure you're not grossed out?" You mumbled into his chest.

Bucky snorted. "Sweetheart, I've held a man's insides with my bare hands. I think I can handle a period."

You huffed out a laugh. "You're the best."

His lips brushed your temple. "Nah, you are. I'm just your back up."

You were able to fall asleep easier than you expected, right there wrapped in his arms. Bucky kept you in his arms on the couch a little longer, memorizing the way your face looked when the pain eased just a little. He didn't need to be the hero tonight, he just needed to be yours.

~~~

You woke with a gasp, body curled tight in on itself. The pain stabbed through you like a live wire— low and deep and unrelenting. For a moment, you couldn't move, couldn't think. The heating pad had gone cold. Your muscles were clenched tight and sweat gathered on your forehead from how badly your abdomen hurt. Beside you in bed, Bucky stirred.

"Hey... hey," his voice was rough with sleep, but full of concern as he sat up. "What's wrong?"

You shook your head, arms clutching your middle. "It— It hurts... bad... Like... worse...I can't— I don't know what to do."

Bucky was instantly alert. He flicked on the bedside lamp, eyes scanning you like he was ready to fight something off. "You take more meds yet?"

"No... They barely worked earlier anyway."

He leaned down and kissed your forehead. "Okay. I've got you. Hang tight, I'll be right back."

"What? Wait— where are you going?" You were confused, watching him throw on sweats and a hoodie.

"To the 24-hour pharmacy down the block. You said that one heating patch brand helps, right? The stick-on kind?" You nodded slowly. "I'll get that. And whatever else looks helpful. I'll be back in ten, tops."

"Bucky... You don't have—"

He leaned down again, eyes soft but firm. "Yes, I do. You're in pain. That's not optional for me. Stay in bed, try to breathe through it. I'll be right back."

He quickly flipped back on your heating pad and then he was gone, moving with the quiet efficiency of a former assassin. You heard the door click shut, and suddenly it was just you, the lamp's warm glow, and the ache that wouldn't let go.

You curled tighter into the blankets, focusing on your breathing— in and out and in and out— until finally, you heard the door again. Seven minutes, maybe less. Bucky reappeared with a plastic bag gripped in his flesh hand and determination in his eyes.

"Alright, doll," he said. "I grabbed reinforcements."

He pulled out: the extra strength stick-on heating patches you liked, the best menstrual pain relief he could find, two bottles of electrolyte water, a heating wrap for your lower back, and a few of your favorite snacks. Your chest tightened— not from pain, but something softer. Something that made your eyes sting. He gently helped you sit up, pressing the heating patch to your lower abdomen with careful hands.

"There," he murmured. "That feel okay?

You nodded, too choked up to speak. He handed you the water and meds, tucking the covers back around you after you took them.

"Lie back, sweetheart," he guided. "Let it kick in. I'll keep watch."

"You're amazing," you whispered, voice hoarse.

"I'm just in love," his fingers brushed over you cheek. "And I hate seeing you in pain."

You fell asleep again to the feel of his hand running up and down your arm, his voice murmuring quiet nothings in your ear. You were still in pain, but somehow, it didn't feel as lonely this time.