Hope, 18, Maine USA. I love Art and the Avengers.

Reblogged from ohcaptainrurn  23 notes
"Look at me - just breathe, okay?" and stucky?


You got it!

Steve is drowning.

He’s in the ocean, it’s blazing hot but his limbs are going numb, the salt water is invading his eyes, his ears, his nose—

Pressure, pressure, pressure against his chest harder and harder—

Why can’t he breathe, he keeps going under, the waves are too high—

The muscles in his chest are frozen, contracting, why why why, why won’t he swim, why won’t he just move—

Steve! Jesus Christ,Steve, wake up!”

How—who—Bucky? Steve looks around, where is his voice coming from?

He’s gasping, flailing—

"Fuck, STEVE!"

Steve startles awake, but he’s still drowning. He’s covered in sweat. Covers are tangled between his legs. Bucky hovers over him, panic clear on his face even in the dark.

"Oh God, Steve, come on, sit up, you’re having an attack, Jesus, come on, Steve.”

Strong arms lift him to a sitting position. A hand covers his sternum, and another is between his shoulder blades. Bucky takes one of Steve’s hands and places it over his own chest. They’re both shaking.

"Look at me—Steve, look at me, just breathe, okay? Just like me, you gotta breathe,” Bucky says, taking a deep breath and exhaling.

Steve struggles, tears in his eyes. He feels like a concrete slab is laying on his ribcage. He stutters in and out a small breath.

"Keep tryin’, Steve, please."

Bucky breathes in again, rubbing his hands over Steve’s chest and back. Steve inhales again, this time deeper.

"There ya go, keep goin’, breathe with me," Bucky says, inhaling a third time.

Slowly, Steve’s breathing evens out to something normal, if not wheezy. Tear stains are drying on his cheeks, and his pajamas are still soaked.

Bucky hugs him, mumbling praises under his breath, and Steve hangs on for dear life.

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