hi, hey, hello! made a “rebloggable” post so i could update it as much as i could. requests are open, but slow!
* = smut or contains sexual,,, stuff
updated: 27. july. 2019
BUCKY BARNES
no place like home
you are also a super-soldier— brainwashed and a weapon, but what happens if memories keeps fading in and out, and everything slowly starts making sense? starting with the winter soldier— who you work with.
one | two | three
3:15
basically in a lookout with bucky who loves to poke fun with glasses jokes/antics.
vitamin d
basically bucky helping his anemic girl! features our favorite steve, sam, natasha, and quick tony.
get to you again (*)
friends with benefits in a couple of rules— bucky pulls you aside for a moment of good ruining & maybe in hopes of a good ending.
million dollar man
bucky dancing. bucky singing. all in an italian mission. dream a little dream of me vibez.
STEVE ROGERS
bling, bling. (*)
car sex, steve finds some bling blings, likes (loves) them very much.
requested: @buckysgirl04 - may I request for a simple Bucky x Italian! F! Reader?
summary: bucky dancing. bucky singing. all in an italian mission. dream a little dream of me vibez
a/n: shoutout to my italian readers, people who have any knowledge about italian languange, people who took italian in high school & college, i’m sorry if my sentences are incorrect— please blame google translate. have fun & feedback is appreciated !! also, happy august everybody!
—————
The high ceiling housed grand chandeliers and golden accents throughout the pillars and waves of gorgeous sculptures on the walls, and renaissance paintings on the ceilings. It looked so elegant and it was such a nice breathe of fresh air and with the mellow music playing in the background— the soft orchestra and the billowy voice of the singer made it all seem like a dream.
Bucky’s rested his hand on your lower back while he held your other hand close to his chest, and you rested your cheek on his shoulder. He looked dapper— his hair was tied in a small bun, and his jaw was freshly shaven although you could see a shadow coming out. He looked extremely well, and you never knew that you would see Bucky Barnes in a tuxedo.
Even the whole team couldn’t believe it.
For a while, your mind drifted off to a fairytale— the gorgeous ceilings and the dance of a lifetime until the clock strikes twelve and then you’re back to reality.
“How many cameras do you see?” Bucky whispered in your ear, softly planting a kiss on your temple as he rested his chin on top of your head as he swayed you both.
“Ten,” you answered, looking up at Bucky, and rested your other cheek on Bucky’s shoulder. “There could be more.”
Bucky swayed you both the other way so he could see your side, and you tightened your hold on his back as he lifted you in a soft turn which emitted curious glances and sweet smiles from the rest of the people on the dance floor. You could feel Bucky smile on top of your head, as he curled his hand on your lower back. He hummed to the music, and you couldn’t help but smile.
You have never heard him hum.
“Do you know this song?”
“Yeah,” Bucky answered, looking down to meet your eyes, then he smiled. “I used to dance to this song, every single time.”
“Lots of girls, huh?”
Bucky blushed, and tucked himself up as his eyes wandered around the place. “Just danced this to my special girls.”
Now it was your turn to look up at him. You rested your hands on his side of his neck, while the other played withe pocket square right on his chest. He continued to sway you both to the music—
Say nighty-night and kiss me
Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me
While I'm alone and blue as can be
Dream a little dream of me
“Am I special to you then, Bucky Barnes?”
Bucky froze and he slowly bent down and lingered his hands on your hips. He leaned down, until his nose brushed your cheek— and you could also feel your own cheeks fire up with color, until he gently placed a kiss on the corner of your lips.
“Enough love birds.”
Sam chuckled on the comms, and you could see him the by the corner of your eye, chuckling to himself as he carried a tray of glasses filled with champagne. Natasha on the other end, rolled her eyes subtlety, still placing a light smile on her lips as she bumped into Sam. He, on the other hand, grinned widely, and looked at your position— and winked at you.
If Bucky could see him now… he’d turn all red and be all-broody about it.
Steve bumped into the both of you, apologizing for any disturbance as he swept the dance floor with more glasses of champagne. You couldn’t help but smile at the team and feel Bucky be all-broody and tensed up now.
Bucky straightened up and loosened his touch on your hips, as he removed your hands on his body and swayed both of you again—
Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you
But in your dreams whatever they be
Dream a little dream of me
“The target is on the move,” Steve voiced out in the comms, and he bumped into you again.
“Va bene, signore, [It’s okay, mister.]” you said, helping Steve up as he bumped into you.
Immediately, a man dressed in a black suit caught up with the commotion and placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Bucky raised his hand in protest— still in the act of a millionaire and your role as his partner, as he repeated what you said— but a little rocky. The guard caught up with Bucky’s slurring and you quickly intervened as you saw Sam and Natasha quickly place down their trays.
“Non ci dà fastidio, per favore, [It doesn’t bother us, please.]” you said, placing a hand on Steve’s forearm. The guard relaxed, and you gave a pat on Bucky’s chest, “Mio marito non l'ha visto. [My husband didn’t see.]”
“Bene, [Okay,]” the guard said walking away from the three of you.
“The target is on the move,” Steve repeated, a little shudder in his voice. You couldn’t blame him, his face wasn’t cover — and it’ll be just any minute for anybody to figure out Captain America is here.
“Nat and Sam followed them,” you supplied, patting Bucky on the chest.
“Okay,” Steve nodded, and walked away. Later his voice came on the comms, “You two stay there.”
Bucky nodded as if Steve could see him, and you tensed up as you can feel every one of the two of you. A waiter— which is what Steve was— bumping into a couple in this elegant building is enough for an employee to be tossed aside and fired. Bucky must have not remembered so now everybody is looking. Their looks on Bucky are useless, as he continued to sway the both of you.
“Where did you learn Italian?”
“Idiota, sono Italiano, [Dumbass, I’m Italian,]” you deadpanned, shaking your head— just with a tiny smile on your lips.
“Scusa, tuo marito ha dimenticato, [Sorry, your husband must have forgotten.]” he answered, chuckling softly but his eyes were following something. Still, you kept your surprised to hear Bucky speak Italian. “They’re following them, let’s go.”
—————
It was a shitfest.
Your ears still rung from the heavy explosions, and your hand has little cuts on top of it, and your fingers were numb from all the knife work— and it didn’t exactly helped that you were wearing three inch heels and you had to run, and your dress was a bit heavy— so all in all, it was a struggle.
You sat at the edge of your bed in the hotel room, your shoes in your hands and the guns and knife on the bed. You couldn’t even be bothered to look take off your thigh strap as your body ached from all the running and the heavy weapons Bucky and Sam threw to you whenever you ended up empty-handed.
There was a knock on the door, and you turned your head towards it. Sighing, you threw your shoes gently on the ground.
“It’s open,” you said loudly, wondering who it’ll be.
Then, the door opened softly, and Bucky entered— completely disheveled as you.
He left his suit jacket somewhere during the mission, and he entered your room with his sleeves rolled up— his black gloves forgotten too. His metal arm was a nice contrast of color to the black and white he was wearing, and it didn’t completely help that he still looked charming— even if there soot on his face and dried blood on the corner of his lip. A few cuts too, and you walked towards the bedside where the first-aid kit was.
“Hey,” you said, opening the first aid kit. “Come sit.”
Bucky stood by the door, and he locked the door behind him. He took a sit by where you were earlier, and he sighed loudly, chuckling too. “One hell of mission, huh?”
“I didn’t know there would be a complete militia,” you whispered, walking towards to Bucky. You stood between his legs, as you rested your hand on his jaw as you cleaned his face. “It didn’t help too with the heels.”
“I can see that,” he said, turning his head towards the thrown shoes.
The both of you were quiet— exhausted from the mission. He winced a couple of times, and you apologize a couple of times as well. Bucky was quiet the whole, and you couldn’t even help but wonder why he is.
“Why are you here, anyway?” You asked, holding Bucky’s face as you patched him up.
Bucky took your hand, and held it on his own. He looked like he was contemplating whether to speak up or not— so he just let go of your hand until you were left there dumbfounded. He opened and closed his mouth until he closed his eyes in defeat.
Then he opened them, and looked straight at you.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Your question, earlier,” he said, standing up in the middle of the room. He turned his back away, and crossed his arms. You couldn’t help but look at the way his muscles moved on his back through the thin white shirt, but your eyes focused again on his eyes when he turned.
“My question?”
“Yes,” he nodded. Bucky blushed again, and he looked like a complete million dollar man, even with the red bandaids on his face— it was all that you have left. “You’re a special girl.”
“Are we still acting like a couple?”
“No,” he answered, right away. He sighed and turned towards the door.
“Come back,” you said, putting down the first-aid kit. You motioned over for Bucky and he walked slowly until he was a couple of steps away from you. “Closer.”
“Why?”
“You just told me I’m one of your special girls,” you whispered, motioning him closer. Your heart is beating fast— and seeing Bucky look equally red and flushed, you smiled widely, looks tossed away as both of you are drenched dried sweat, soot, dirt, and exhaustion.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you answered, walking to him, and holding him by the shoulders as he clasped his hands on your waist. “And we’re in Milan—.”
“Our dance was cut short, huh?”
Bucky pulled you in closer, until you rested your head on top of his shoulder, and his chin on top of your head. He hummed a little bit, and started swaying both of you to his humming. His metal hand rubbed circles on your waist, and you coulnd’t help but shiver at his cold touch.
Then he started mumbling.
His voice was soft, and still unsure of his words, but he was singing. Softly. All you could do was sway with him, all most on your tiptoes to hold him by the shoulder and to savor this moment, as he mumbled the way to the song earlier, very softly and sweetly that all it all reminds you of fairytale you didn’t want to end. Bucky swayed, and listened to you hum as well, and he became much sure of his words, though he was struggling with some words, but you smile against his shoulder and listened to him sing—
Le stelle stanno scomparendo ma io indugio, caro
Desiderando ancora un tuo bacio
Ho voglia di restare fino all'alba, caro
Dico solo questo
Fai bei sogni fino a che i raggi di sole non ti troveranno
Fai bei sogni che faranno restare le preoccupazioni dietro di te
summary: you are also a super-soldier— brainwashed and a weapon, but what happens if memories keeps fading in and out, and everything slowly starts making sense? starting with the winter soldier— who you work with.
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
word count: hefty 3.2k words (i’m sorry)
a/n: i was thinking of make this into a couple of parts but i have no idea yet. feedback would be appreciated, and please enjoy!
—————
When HYDRA operated, they tested their serums on various men trying to find a perfect carrier for the perfect weapon in winning wars. Wars that was yet to be won, and wars that are yet to be. HYDRA was a secret— and you were too.
The last weapon, the last soldier that got their hands on.
Although you weren’t alone, certainly not the only one. Mission after mission— bodies after bodies, you walked beside another one. Never once holding a gaze after a great success for the organization, never speaking, not a word. Guards would lead you to a room together with the other Soldier, and even if you knew— deep down where your thoughts are still gathered, about your past life, the 40’s, the familiar faces, and the eyes of the familiar blues you once peeked through the other Soldier, that’s where you hold on to. But with every step on the way, closer to that freezing place, you want to pause.
Pause.
Rewind.
Start over.
Just like the records from your memories. The pauses after each giggly dances in the clubs filled with the youth of your time.
But you have to walk.
Walk.
Walk.
Until you’re staring at the insides of the coldness, straps around your body, and you stare right at the lights above, relishing what it looks like, and when you’re in— you think about the memories, the colors, before you fully close your eyes and be awaken in time when they need you.
“Stop,” a familiar voice rang through the room, “We need them. Get them ready.”
A man in a creaseless suit stood in the middle, eyed his soldiers, and paced towards you.
As if on automatic, you straightened your back, hands behind, and looked forward.
Perfect Soldier.
His perfume filled your nostrils with a light musk, and you breathed in the scent. In response, the man smiled. He took a step back, and you felt his finger tap your temple in question. His eyes were filled with such secrets that even you can’t decipher. You followed his eyes and when he smirked, that’s when you stopped.
“I don’t think we need you,” his voice rang in your ears.
“Sir?”
“See,” he started, pacing towards the other Soldier beside you. “He is a perfect example of what you should be. Strong, ruthless, hard— yet what he is, you are the opposite.”
The other Soldier tensed his jaw and you didn’t even remember turning your head to look at him. He stood straighter, chest slowly going up and down. The man paced back to you, and he tapped your temple again.
“So, tell me, Soldier,” he questioned, crossing his arms. “Why are you different?”
You shivered.
It wasn’t cold in the room, not as cold as to where you were used to, but you shivered.
Your eyes locked on the other Soldier beside you— and maybe your eyes were fooling you, but you saw his blue eyes glance back at you and away.
Something about the blues.
“Answer?”
His voice was nothing with the way your mind paused.
Something about the blues. They were like the oceans— the waves coming up to your knees as it splashed cold, cold, water and you squirmed. They were like the jacket you used to always find on your shoulders whenever you went out to walk— hands would unbutton their jacket and give it to you with a smile. They reminded you of the past.
Laughing. Music. Dancing. Fairs. Fireworks.
None of what is where you are now.
“Answer!”
That caught you out of the whirlwind of tingles in your spine about the color blue.
“No, sir.”
A pause.
The man in front of you walked away— towards the door. He looked back once, and whispered something in the ears of another.
Soon, you were screaming. The straps were too tight, the cold was too cold, it was all too much. Your brain worked throughout the remaining seconds you have left. Your hands gripped the other Soldier’s forearm, fingernails leaving crescent marks as they forced you into the tube.
He looked down, and pried your fingers off of his arm. They never once met your eyes when you screamed. No emotion, nothing.
So, you stopped moving. Let them take care of you. Let them put you under. Let them freeze you again— and unfreeze you when they need you. But you knew, there was no certainty.
What good was a super-soldier, a weapon of HYDRA when they awakened?
Nothing. Maybe their serum was weak, maybe you needed more. They closed you off, and for what little second until the mist of freezing air came to seize you— his blues were the last thing you saw when he looked back to see his comrade fall into the deepest sleep she was afraid of.
—————
Bunch of scrawny ten year olds kids, they were.
The dress you were wearing got wet, splashes of dirty puddle water dawned your perfect dress, and you stomped your foot.
“Enough!”
“Who are you?” His face was red from jumping nonstop, and he crossed his arms mimicking you. “Our ma?”
“No!”
“Then don’t tell us what to do!”
So, they jumped again. Well, only one of them continuously did. The other boy stood beside you, looking down at his feet. You nudged him with your elbow, and you smiled. He smiled sheepishly back, and scratched the back of his head.
“Sorry about Buck—.”
“It’s not your fault,” you said, wiping down your dress. “He’s a little punk isn’t he?”
“Yeah,” he smiled.
“Who are you calling a punk?”
“Nobody,” you answered the sweaty boy standing in front. You flicked his head, smiling down at the scrawny, little kids. “But you are little.”
“I’m older than you,” he stated, putting his hands on his hips.
With that, you flicked your hair away and smiled sweetly. You were taller than them, just a little bit, and you always use that against them. As a kid, you don’t know why you hang out with these boys. Your ma always gushed you to play dolls with your other neighbors but you would rather make a fuss about these boys and how they are smaller than you. They were more funny. More adventurous, and that was what you wanted. It sung in your blood.
—————
When you were 17, a boy made you cry when he kissed you farewell.
It was more of like a two month long relationship, but you cried nevertheless. Cried out empty— body weak, red eyes, and sniffling nose. The bed was your friend for a week, pillows were your enemy as you punched through them repeatedly, imagining the face of the boy who just broke your heart. The door was locked always, so however was disturbing your moment of tears and pain— deserves a scream at the top of your lungs.
“Don’t need to scream, all right!”
“Go away!”
“Your ma said we could go upstairs—.”
“I don’t want you here!”
They paused and all you could hear were hushed voices and some thumping on the ground until somebody knocked softly on the door. They called out your name, and knocked again when you didn’t reply.
“Hey, let’s grab some hotdogs and milkshakes, yeah?”
That sounded completely fine, and the rumbles of your stomach answered for you. The diner around the block were your absolute favourite and these stupid friends of yours were wise to ask you out. They were your weakness.
“Fine.”
With that, you opened the door, deep in regret when both of the boys snickered in front of you.
“Thanks for laughing at me.”
“No problem,” one of them answered. His hair was covered in gel, and you tried to ruffle it up to seek revenge for his laugh. He caught your wrist in protest and looked dead right at you. “You better regret doing that.”
“I don’t, really,” you said, breathing deeply as you pulled a small smile.
“We made you smile,” the one of them said. He was smaller— probably the same height as you, and you leaned on his shoulder in response. He smiled big as the other pushed the two of you.
“Come on,” the bigger of them said, holding you both by the shoulders, ushering you out of the door.
The diner was packed filled with other teenagers, and you immediately backed out of the door when you saw the ex-boyfriend dining with another girl. Oh, he’s definitely using the charms he used on you on her. Still, it made you see red but then again, you were hurt. That should’ve been you— sipping on the same milkshake, holding onto his forearm, and his hand twisting the ends of your hair. Your eyes stung with pain, and you were crying silently outside the door.
“Hey,” a familiar voice whispered, and you turned around. His blue shined in concern, and he gingerly offered you a napkin to wipe the snot out of your nose. He smiled softly, and nodded towards the guy. “Want me to punch that punk?”
You shook your head. “Don’t always look for trouble.”
“I’m just protecting…” he stopped for a few seconds, and he continued when he met your eyes. “Just protecting you.”
You blinked a couple of times, surreal that he just said that, considering the amount of hearts he stumbled and broke. But it pulled on your heart strings, and you looked at him with teary eyes. “That’s the nicest thing you have ever said to me.”
He blinked a couple of times as well, catching your eyes. His jaw was slightly ajar, but he closed in a blink. Then he was back to that mischievous grin, and you rolled your eyes back. It was too good to be true. “Don’t get used to it.”
—————
“How come you could join the military?”
You turned your head, eyeing your friend who stood a couple of inches smaller than you. You laid your head on his shoulder, and he let you stay there for a minute, before he spoke again. “I couldn’t even join it.”
“She joined,” another voice came behind echoed as the light from the poster dimmed, and both of you turned around to meet the smiling fool. “Because she is stupid, ain’t that right?”
You flicked his hat, watching it fall to the ground. Tension was evident in the air, as he bent down to pick it up, never leaving his eyes off of you. Your other friend hurried away, getting lost in the sea of men and women chatting up and dancing the night away in loud banter.
“Don’t call me stupid.”
“Reckless?”
You pushed a finger onto his chest, and he smirked as he turned his head to the side. His face makes you see red, and you pushed him even more. “If it’s so reckless of me to join, then why did you?”
He stopped for a moment, before he pushed away your hand from his chest. He patted his hat clean and placed it firmly on his head. “You know that’s not what I meant—.”
“It’s clearly what you meant,” you hushed angrily, pushing him more. “Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean that I can’t join.”
“You’re taking this the wrong wa—.”
“Then how should I take it, huh?”
He pulled down your hand from his chest, and held it close with both of his hands. “If you let me finish, you’ll know,” he whispered, letting go of your hand slowly.
He paused for a moment, tilting his head side by side in thought. His hand clasped around yours when he spoke in a soft voice. His blue eyes shined brightly against the lights in the room, and you steady your breath as he placed your hand against his chest. His heartbeat was the rhythm you followed to relax.
“You don’t deserve to be caught in the middle of the war,” he whispered. His voice fleeted right through your ears, and you melted right there. You can feel his heart beat faster, when he continued. “I know I can never change your mind because you’re the most stubborn person I have ever met, but, please—.”
“You’ll get to see me again after this, if that’s what you’re so worried about.” You matched your voice with the same softness he has given you, that you didn’t even realize he was inching you back against the wall until your eyes met with the level of his chin, and your eyes ventured down as you smiled. “You need to work on your ties.”
He ignored your last statement, and he let go of your hand, as he pocketed his inside his trousers. For a moment, you thought of the warmth of his large hands wrapped around yours— and you’d be lying if you say that you didn’t miss the way it feels so good. He looked down at you, meeting your eyes and he laid a sad, small smile on his face.
“What if I don’t get to see you back?”
“That’s absurd— I’m not going to die.”
“No,” he insisted, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What if?”
At this time, he was breathing heavily and his mouth was slightly open that you could his warm breath on the crown of your head. His chest relaxed, yet his jaw was still clenched. You can feel he got his hands balled up in his pockets, and you breathed through your nose loudly.
It was a thought that consume the earlier nights. It was scary— the what ifs. When you passed, all he ever mentioned to you were what ifs. It was consuming you right through the bone and flesh, but this was the only time you took it seriously. When he said it, your world stopped and your ears listened. When you looked up, all you could see were the color blue. It calmed you down, protected you, listened to you, and gave you something that you were so afraid of.
Were you in love?
Are you in love?
You wanted to stomp on that thought so badly— this wasn’t the right time to think about it. He’s got some ladies waiting for him and you’ve got another friend to console because both of you were leaving him behind. Maybe you should stay? But for what? To wait for him to come back and whisper in his ears of what you feel? Isn’t too juvenile for the both of you?
But now he was coming in closer. He bent down slowly, tilting as his nose hit yours— but his blues never lost the colors of your eyes. He backed away an inch, but your hand has got a mind of his eyes, and it inched to steady yourself on his chest. He smiled— blue eyes shining too brightly, until he placed his hand on your neck, you watched him lick his lips, and his eyes flicker something so pure, that you forgot to breathe— then he.
“Guys! It’s starting!”
That familiar voice in both of your ears rang in your minds, and you scrambled against the wall as you pushed his chest out of the way. He made a noise of annoyance— loud enough for you to hear. He flattened his top with his hands, and you looked back at him.
He tucked his hands in his pockets again, as he looked beyond you then back at you. “Don’t forget what I said.”
With this, you started to walk away still facing him with a bright smile, grateful for that diversion of else you would’ve lose your senses to the way his thumb was circling on your skin, or the way his nose bumped into yours— or worst of all, if you lost yourself on those eyes.
“We’ll see when we get there.”
—————
Something was moving.
Nudging you.
It was cold— and there was an occasional whirring as it nudged you again.
Your eyes fluttered open to see the other Soldier’s eyes— and it hit you like a tidal wave of how close he was. You could almost see the flecks on his blue eyes bright and clear as he straightened his back once you sat up awake on the bed.
“Get up and be the lookout.”
You followed his orders and stood up quickly. His voice was as dead as the environment outside as everything was covered in snow. It was dark, and the wind was howling. You took his seat by the window, eyeing him as he took out an antenna phone, and angrily putting it back since all it echoed was static. He limped his way around the room, ruffling through the stuff on the floor, and he grimaced when he tried to lift off of the ground. Even with all the strength and healing regeneration, it was still painful for some injuries. He’s got an open wound and it needed stitches quickly.
He felt you watching, and he pointed at the window. “Eyes on it.”
Eyes on it, you were. There was nothing to look at except for the passing cars and then you were met with blind darkness. Even the street lamps were starting to flicker. You heard him groan, and this time you twisted your body to take a better look at him.
“You need stitches.”
“Eyes on the window.”
You ignored him. “I can stitch you up.”
“No.”
“Soldat,” you emphasized, catching his look. “I can help you.”
With his piercing look, he shut you right up. Sulking, you fixed right up against the window and eyes him again, pushing the chair towards him. He took it with a question and a raised brow. You were looking outside, but your ears perked up when you heard uneven footsteps on the hardwood and the loud thump of the first aid kit on the floor. You didn’t bother asking him anymore as he inclined his head to look out while you rolled his shirt up to his shoulder. It was a long gash, but you stitched him up nonetheless. He hitched a breath a couple of times, but he calmed down and felt his arm relax as you gauzed him up.
For some reason, he stayed there— looking outside even when he was done. It was quiet in the room, and it was deafening.
Something about the blues.
You could never get over them— so you found yourself spewing trouble and bullshit in the room.
“Have you thought about your past?”
With this, he stood up quickly. He knew what you just did. It was a violation. It was hearsay. It was bullshit. As a super-soldier like him, these words shouldn’t even correlate with people like you, as if they weren’t brainwashing you enough. But it just came out. No thoughts about it, just straight up a question. His eyes widened as you repeated the question, then he rambled to get the phone, and waited for good static until he spoke in fluent Russian of what just happened.
It ended up with you screaming at the top of your lungs, feeling the familiar straps around your body— and the cold, cold, tube. What good does a super-soldier like you if you can remember? You were a weapon, and you know it. Brainwashed, controlled, and with every command is what you should follow.
Then it became to cold for you— and the his blue eyes were the only thing that could ever amount to the irrational cold you felt once they closed and kept you frozen.
summary: you are also a super-soldier— brainwashed and a weapon, but what happens if memories keeps fading in and out, and everything slowly starts making sense? starting with the winter soldier— who you work with.
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
word count: 2.8k words
a/n: i’m really figuring this story as i go but this is more of a bucky pov! enjoy lots and feedback is appreciated!!
series masterlist
[one]
—————
The Winter Soldier’s felt his mind awaken despite the freezing cold. He doesn’t know how he could feel the coldness, but his being stayed frozen. His mind racked through his thoughts, and he felt something inside him awaken. He doesn’t know what he was doing, why he is seeing someone— some people in his mind. He doesn’t know who these are. It was blurry, trippy, and it made his head hurt. It was like moving pictures, but he felt inside those pictures. He felt like he was watching the pictures but also being in them.
His head hurts.
He felt his head flinch away, and then he was dreaming.
“You are really terrible in keeping secrets.”
Bucky took a sip of his soda, his eyes focused on you. He looked serious enough that it made you put down the burger you were just about to eat. Then he looked down on his food, pushed away the plate slightly— something he does when he is finished with his food. It was half-eaten. His food was half through done and he haven’t even touched his fries. His face was contorted with slight anger; nose flared and lips pursed.
“What do you mean?” You asked, placing your arms on the table.
He looked outside the window, completely ignoring you. “Does Steve know?”
“Bucky,” you groaned, pushing away your plate. He knows you hate it when he doesn’t look at you when he talks, “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean,” he hushed angrily, placing his arms on the table as well. His eyes were wide in anger, and you leaned on the seat to raise a brow at him.
“What are you talking about?”
“The letter!”
Next month will be the start of deployment of enlisted men and women to the war. The letter has been sitting on your dresser for quite some time now, and nobody knows that you enlisted, nobody knows that you were accepted. It was neatly folded, tucked beneath a few changes and a vase filled with flowers that Bucky has left you when he came over—
“That secret was mine to keep!” You scoffed, leaning in closer. “What business do you have snooping around my things, huh?”
Bucky looked taken back. He jutted his finger over his chest as he said, “I am your friend—.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to know everything!”
“Are you guys fighting?” Steve asked as he pushed you further into the booth as he took a sit beside you. He immediately took some fries off of your plate, and a sip of your soda. “Are you done with this?”
Bucky cleared his throat as he resumed eating. He took his eyes off of you, and gave his attention to Steve.
“Actually, I’m not feeling well, Steve,” you said, just as Steve was finishing off of your plate. He stood up with a question, but you quickly spoke, “I’ll go home now.”
Steve nodded slowly, his eyes diverting to Bucky’s tensed form as he finished his burger with no stop. Steve looked back at you, and nodded again. He gave you a small smile, before raising his glass of water, bidding you farewell.
It was a couple of minutes after you have left the diner that you have thought about what Bucky said. It wasn’t in your intention to sign up for military— it just happened. You wondered what would it feel like, and you were smart, quick, and had little hope as to how you could help. The letter was a breath of fresh air, and it empowered you that maybe this is the right thing.
You knew Bucky enlisted months before you, and Steve has been trying multiple times without ever backing down, and you just got to know— and the letter with the big accepted stamp was the answer.
Your ears perked up when somebody shuffled behind you, and you immediately turned around. His blue eyes pierced right through you, as he jogged towards you. Bucky cleared this throat, keeping his hands inside his pockets.
“Look—,” he started, looking up and down. “I’m sorry that I looked at your things without permission, but…”
Could you ever be mad at him when he makes your heart beat hard in your chest?
“It’s okay Bucky,” you said, smiling softly. “Don’t do it again, please.”
“Of course,” he whispered as he walked with you. “But what if…”
“Don’t give me that Bucky,” you said, dead serious, stopping in your tracks.
Bucky was silent for a moment, before he stepped beside you, walking you home. That was the end of the conversation, and Bucky kept his mouth shut— thoughts shut as to how or what he could do to possibly stop you from joining. He knew it was selfish, but he didn’t want to see you on the frontlines, possible carrying a gun, and he couldn’t bear to even think of what outcomes… and it makes his head hurt but he shut himself up. He didn’t realized he walked off and it was only then when you yelled out his name as he turned around.
“Did you forget where I live?” You asked, crossing your arms with a smile. Bucky walked with his head down as he grinned, “Or were you thinking of someone else, huh?”
Bucky felt his cheeks heat up but he tried to nonchalantly shrugged as he watched you look for your key and unlock the door. When you turned away from him, he felt his hands on his face— completely feeling the heat of his blush. He watched as you close the door behind you, and quickly went behind the curtains to wave some more and mouth a quick, goodnight. He thought it was a sweet image, after years and years of walking home— you have never failed to go behind the curtains and bid him a goodnight. It made his nights somewhat sweeter, but he wouldn’t want to admit that.
He suddenly gasped for air as he felt the warm air quickly surround him. He’s back. He relaxed and stretched his fingers, fishing for that little whirring his metal arm made. He cracked his neck, and brushed his fingers through his hair. Whatever he dreamt was quickly exchanged by words that made his mind go rigid. All he could remember was the lights in the room, the scared shuffling of feet as he stepped outside of his chamber. He quickly noticed how the chamber next to him still housed his partner.
Then his mind went black.
—————
A mission in Bucharest.
They dropped him off at a beat up apartment, left with enough supplies like weapons and some food, cash, and that was it. The mission is his and his only. No back up— they expected him to finish this job all by himself at the end of the week. The Winter Soldier didn’t want to admit it, but the last time he was in a mission like this with a similar living confinement, he had a partner.
The Soldier was designed to be thoughtless, clean slate every time, blank— but his mind wandered off somewhere. He took a sit by the window ledge where always does and imagined somebody else in the room.
She was also like him. If she was in this room, the first thing that she would do was tell him to sit by the bed.
“You don’t know if they have you targeted,” she said, kicking the bag to the edge of the bed.
He would follow, sulking as he pushed a strand of hair away, and sat by the bed. He would watch her unravel every thing in the bag. He would watch her sit by the bed with him, handing him a cloth and instructing him to clean the guns. After she has done one, she would take off and lean by the window leaving him with the guns. He would let her stay by the window, occasionally focusing his eyes on her and the scenery outside. There was nothing to see, just the flickering lights of the hotel rooms being shut off as cue to sleep. She would linger by the window, and would yawn— every single time. She would turn around, pressing a small smile on her face as she watched him cleaned. She helped him with the last one and announced that she would head to the bathroom and so does he.
“You look too greasy,” she gushed, making a face as he would comb his hair with his fingers.
“Okay,” he would find himself answering. He watched as he left for the bathroom. Once he heard the door click and the shower run, he jumped towards the window ledge to watch for any movement. Anything that she could’ve possibly missed, but he knows it was useless. She has got the eyes of an eagle, sharp as ever. Once she was finished, he grabbed his own stuff and made use of the bathroom.
If only she was here, maybe it would happen.
Instead, the Winter Soldier was kicked out of his daydream with the beeping of his comms. He cleared his throat and his mind. He carefully answered their questions, giving them reports of his day one. Once it was all cleared, he was left alone with himself.
He headed for his bed, afraid to sleep.
What if the people in his dreams would come back?
He doesn’t know them— and he doesn’t like it. He feels as if he was going behind HYDRA’s back with things that he shouldn’t know. But damn, he admitted, that it feels good. It was a change. It was something else— a glimpse of color in his black and white world filled with mission reports and blotches of red from the amount of people he has killed.
He wants to dream.
He wants to dream— more and more and more until he could piece them all together and finally take a good look on the faces of his dream.
The Winter Soldier closed his eyes as he laid on top of the fixed bed, and crossed his ankles.
If she was here, she would scoff. “Take your shoes off, at least.”
Without thinking, he took them off, but arranged the laces so if he needed them immediately, all he ever need was to tie them.
He closed his eyes again. Slowly, he could feel his eyes feel heavy, and his chest would fall into a sleepy rhythm. He picked on his flesh hands, and fell into deep somber.
Bucky rocked on his foot back and forth as cars drove, splashing the kids and adults with rainwater. He chuckled on the sight but it got caught in his throat as he kicked some more. Steve was supposed to go, but the little punk has gotten the colds from playing too much in the rain even though he told Steve to stop. He admitted he was also a bit sick from the rain but Steve pointed out the Bucky isn’t that sick enough to drop out.
“Is Steve not coming?” You asked, pushing back your hair. It was wet by the ends but you didn’t mind much.
“What?”
You rolled your eyes as Bucky stared at you— hands inside the pockets and hair gelled back. “I asked if Steve was coming?”
“Oh,” Bucky cleared his throat, and his eyes noticed the little droplets of rain on your face. He grabbed his handkerchief from his coat and offered it to you. “Steve is sick.”
You accepted it, and patted it on your cheeks and rubbed it against the ends of your hair. You noticed the light stuffed voice and raised a brow at Bucky. His nose was bit red, and earlier when you were walking you saw his hunched posture which is unlike him. He also sneezed, rather loudly which earned a few snarks from the people walking.
“You don’t look good as well, Bucky,” you commented, pocketing his handkerchief. By instinct, as if you were looking after your younger sibling, you rested a hand on his forehead momentarily before resting it on his neck. “You’re a bit warm, Buck. Why don’t we go home?”
“I’m fine,” he insisted, wishing that the warmth from his neck hasn’t ridden up to his cheeks— or he’ll blame Rogers for pushing on this. “Let’s go watch a movie, all right?”
“Are you sure, Bucky?” You asked, resting your hand on his neck again. He feels a bit warmer. He’s hot.
“Absolutely,” he quickly answered. “You’ve been wanting to watch this movie, right?”
“I know,” you sighed, feeling guilty that Bucky walked in this rain even while he’s sick. You didn’t mean for him to actually watch with you. “But you’re burning up.”!
Bucky sighed as well. Exhausted from even standing up, and his knees feels like jello and he was sure it wasn’t from your touches. He steadied himself and walked up to the ticket booth to purchase two tickets. He felt your presence behind him, and he smiled a bit as you had to be on your toes to check over his shoulders. He turned around, handing you one. It was one of the brightest smiles he has ever seen as he watched you gushed over the ticket and quickly walked towards the showing room— glee evident on your face.
“Oh!” You gushed, pointing at Bucky. “I’ll pay you back!”
“Don’t have to, dol—.” He stopped himself from finishing his sentence as he tilted his head in surprise with himself. He cleared his throat and he scratched the back of his neck in nervousness. He hoped you didn’t catch that. “You don’t have to.”
“Whatever,” you answered, walking towards the room. “I’ll treat you to dinner.”
He was left dumbfounded with your words that he stopped in his tracks. By habit, he inserted his hands inside his pocket and made his way towards the room.
By the middle of the movie, Bucky found himself yawning and when he looked at the sides of his eyes, he saw you sniffling and red-nose as you sobbed. You still used his handkerchief to wipe away your tears as the couple in the movie professed their love for each other at each other after years and years of hiding in pain— they finished off their words with a kiss.
Bucky imagined if he could do that with someone, and when he was thinking about it, he foolishly captured your eyes and felt his heart beat tremendously in his chest. The way the movie’s dim light still captured the beauty and color of your eyes and lips made his heart ache. He wanted to say something, but his throat was itchy, and his eyes were becoming blurry and he just let out the largest sneeze in the showing room.
He heard you laugh, and you handed him a piece of cloth. It smelled of her perfume and he sniffed it once, then he sneezed again.
“I told you, we could’ve watched this another time.”
Bucky was about to say something, but his voice got caught in his throat and —
The Winter Soldier woke up with a bang on his window. The Soldier rolled off of the floor, checked his gun and aimed at the source of the sound. He kept it steady for a few seconds until he crawled towards his shoes and laced them up tight. There was a bang on his window again, and he ran to the wall, as he peeked through the window.
Nothing was there. All there was darkness.
It was raining, though. And the wind was howling, and the tree branches near the beaten up apartment was hitting the edges of the window. He calmed himself down, and placed the gun on the bedside table.
He sat by the window ledge, ignoring her voice to not seat there. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to remember his dream but only fragments of them remained. Voices, the way the rain splashed, the kiss, the sneezing. The hand on somebody else’s neck.
Who were they?
What are they doing in his mind?
He opened his eyes to see a figure sitting by the bed. He tensed up, hearing the mechanical whirring in his arm as he clenched his fist. By the way the figure sat, he knows who they are. By the way they breathed, he knows who they are. By the way the figure rocked their leg, he knows who they are.
“Hello,” the voice spoke after a moment.
The Winter Soldier hated being caught up in the dreams because he immediately rendered himself vulnerable.
He hated dreaming— how could he missed this happening?
He hasn’t got one idea in his head, how the woman in the chamber down in the laboratory is now sitting on the bed with a smile on her face.
