Are you my Captain? Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, arguing, etc. Protective Steve is lowkey an asshole. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Chapter 3 2555 words fluff, angst, tension, comfort. 18+ MDNI
You each tell your own friends. That was the deal you made with Bucky when you finally got together. A year later and he's finally figuring out why you'd been so sure that you'd gotten the better part of the deal with Tony.
“Why are you fighting, love?” she wonders, voice like honey, “..Sleep..”
Bucky hums noncommittally, gaze not wavering as his fingers flex across her waist.
“I’ve missed you” is the response he settles on, not caring how pathetic the excuse sounds as he makes it, “It’s been awhile since we’ve been alone like this…”
“Bucky” she coos softly, leaning in to press a kiss against his brow, “I’ve missed you too”
He beams at her, and even though the hollows under his eyes are so deep that they look like bruises now, she thinks he’s the most beautiful thing in the world.
“God, doll—“ he drawls, “—are you trying to distract me or somethin’?”
“No” she chuckles, before catching her own lie, “— maybe a little?” she amends, “The main aim was catching you up on the attention you’ve so clearly been starved of while I’ve been workin, but, I suppose if it doubles as a distraction too, then I’m not mad it…”
He seems like that response. The creases by his eyes deepen as he beams at her a little wider, anyway. She takes that as a win.
“Do you think they’re still fightin’?”
“That depends… Are we classing Romanoff scolding Steve as fighting?”
“No” he allows, “Not if he’s not replying.”
“Then no” she murmurs, “You know he doesn’t have the stamina to keep up with her when she’s pissed, and she has been begging me to let her hash this out with him for weeks.”
He scoffs quietly before keening back into her knuckles as they drift over the curve of his cheek.
“She’s protective” Y/N feels the need to explain, “but she won’t be too hard on him… she cares about him too…”
“Maybe he needs a little hard” he counters, trying to make his tone sound harsher.
His attempt doesn’t work well. He sounds almost like a child, and his partner can’t help but laugh at the frustrated crease between his brow.
“He loves you, Bucky” is what she decides to reply with, “He’s worried that I’m taking advantage… that I’m charming you into fighting for SHEILD—“
“You’re charmin’ me alright” he mumbles, blushing scarlet, “But I’ve been askin’ to help out for months and you’ve been real firm about saying no.”
“Maybe you should try charmin’ me?” she teases, rolling her eyes, “You’re a lover, not a fighter, sweetheart— and you’ve already been drafted once. I’m not going to let you get wrapped up in another war, not when I can help it.”
“It’s the same war” he counters, “and it’s not being drafted if I’m volunteering.”
“Now you sound like Steve—”
“—He’s not always wrong.”
“No” she agrees, “but, it doesn’t matter anyway.”
“because?” he prompts, an edge of resignation to his voice.
“because I am the acting director, which means wether either of you like it or not, it’s my opinion that counts”
“That sounds more like a dictator than a director” he murmurs, playful tone of voice offsetting the possible accusation in his words, “I thought I was free to do whatever I wanted?”
“You are” she purrs, stroking his jaw with her thumb, “Baby boy, you can do anythin’ you want, anythin’ at all… and if I really believed for one second that fighting was what would make you happy then I’d have a suit made up for you by the mornin’—”
“It’s not fighting I want to do” he says, knowing that they’ve had this talk before, and it always ends up the same way, “It’s helping you”
“And you do help me” she says with a smile, “You help me every day… You’re not an asset anymore, sweetheart. You don’t have to be completing missions to be useful…”
Bucky feels himself keening out to her, nose brushing her cheek as he flushes red again.
“I can be useful like that, though” he whispers, “If… If you ever need my help, doll, promise… promise me you’ll ask—“
“If” she replies, matching his tone, “If I ever think we need your help like that, then I promise we’ll talk it over, okay? I’m not going to ask you do anythin’ because you’re terrible at sayin’ no to me— but, I swear— I’m open to discussion.”
He can live with that.
He can more than live with that, really.
“Natasha isn’t the only one who’s protective” he mumbles, voice thick and drowsy now, “Y/N/N, you’re just as bad”
“No” she counters, stroking his hair back gently, “No, I’m much, much, worse.”
Bucky beams at that. At how insanely protected he feels, tucked up against her side, with her arms around him and her whole being seemingly being devoted to keeping him safe.
He doesn’t think there are enough words in the world for him to be able to explain how grateful he is for her. For how she looks after him so thoroughly, and for the way that she has never, ever, asked him to do something he might regret, even when he’s asked her too.
He settles on saying “I love you” and finally letting his eyes close.
It’s nice to surrender, especially when he hears her telling him that she loves him too.
Yeah, he thinks, There are definitely worse things to submit to than this—
Y/N watches him for awhile, even when she’s pretty certain that he’s sleeping.
She lets her gaze linger on his face, on the gentle curve of his jaw and the soft pout of lower lip as he breathes in, and out in a rhythm that is almost mechanical.
It’s a pleasant change to see him so unguarded.
She really has missed him too, even if she’d been too preoccupied to dwell on the ache in her chest that his absence breeds.
And then, without ever deciding to close her eyes, she’s asleep too.
The sky outside the window goes from black, to pink, to blue before either of the couple begin to stir, both too settled within their embrace to be roused by anything external.
Unsurprisingly, it’s Bucky who eventually comes round first, his body startling itself awake in the aftershock of some, strange memory that he forgets the details of as soon as he blinks his eyes open.
Instinct makes him pull Y/N closer. Panic response making his pulse race as he buries his face against her chest.
It’s a primal attempt at calming himself down.
It’s involuntary and desperate and it happens in the space of a second—
and then Y/N stirs, too.
Her body responding to his by curling impossibly closer around him, and exhaling long and slow to soothe him;
“Sorry” he bursts, voice still a whisper, “Sorry, I- I didn’t… I- I- don’t…“
“It’s okay” she yawns, shaking her head and orientating herself with being awake, “You’re alright…”
“I didn’t mean to wake you up” Bucky tells her, less quietly now,
“You didn’t” she lies, “I was just restin’ my eyes”
He scoffs at that, reaching up with metal fingers to paw at his eyes.
The brightness of the room jars him a little. It’s been so long since he’s slept through the night that he’s unused to waking up to sunlight coming in through the windows.
Y/N is looking at him now, and she thinks the muddled expression he’s sporting is awfully sweet, even if she suspects the cause is mildly depressing;
“It’s a little after 9” she reports, looking at the holographic display on the bedside, “Weathers’ going to be nice from the look of things— A little cold in the shade.”
He nods absentmindedly, thoughts already drifting back to Steve.
To the ‘almost argument’ they’d had last night, and the ‘actual argument’ he’d gotten himself into with Romanoff.
“I’m sure he’s fine” Y/N says, correctly guessing the reason for the furrowing of his brow, “Nat would’ve messaged me if something serious had happened. She knows I don’t like to be surprised with things like that.”
That’s true.
She would’ve messaged Y/N with a warning had the outcome of their discussion been anything worthy of a report.
He’s not sure if that’s good or not;
He’s not sure how much more of Steve acting the way he is he can take before he snaps on him himself, and if he’s honest- it’s been so long since he’s been able to snap on anyway that he’s not sure what that would look like.
“You’re worrying too much” Y/N says, reaching out to stroke his cheek, “I promise, it’s all going to be fine”
He surrenders, leaning into her touch and nodding.
She’s acutely aware of the way he’s not looking at her though. That isn’t quite normal for him, that means he’s trying to hide something;
“What are you scared of, love?”
Her tone is softer now.
It’s so soft that he looks at her instantly, and then, she sees that she was right.
Fear is plain on his face;
“I don’t want to do somethin’ I’ll regret” he admits, “If he keeps pushin’ me I might— I- I don’t know if I’ll able to not go too far—”
“You” she sighs, “You, would never hurt him, you know that.”
“Physically” he agrees, “but if I- If I snap and say —“
“Say what?” she cuts in dryly, “Baby what could you possibly say? That he’s being an asshole? That he’s smothering you? none of that’s —“
“That he didn’t spend a lifetime being tortured by Russians in the snow, so he doesn’t get to tell me how I’m supposed to be acting now that I’m not- That even some of the handlers I had questioned me less and at least they didn’t pretend to be worried about me when they were demanding I answer their questions”
That outburst takes Y/N totally by surprise.
It’s abundantly clear from his tone that it’s not something that has just suddenly come from nowhere. That’s it’s a cumulation of resentment that’s been building for awhile.
The tint of venom doesn’t suit the usual lilt of his voice.
The crease of anger doesn’t seem to sit well on his brow either.
It looks like a mask, like a layer of something to cover the hurt that has been so visible recently.
Silence has been in the air for a beat too long now. Y/N knows that, so she breaks it, drawing in a breath and deciding what to address first;
“He’s not pretending to care…” she says gently, “…I’m not saying that he’s dealing with this well—“ she adds quickly, not wanting to provoke him, “he’s not— obviously he’s not— but, he does love you—”
“You don’t understand” Bucky mumbles, cheeks burning red.
“No” she agrees, “do you want to help me?”
His eyes are trained on her now. At least he doesn’t look scared anymore, she thinks, he looks a little embarrassed, maybe a little ashamed of himself for his outburst, but definitely not scared.
“I was so sure he was goin’ to come and save me in the beginning, Y/N/N”
That confession doesn’t help clarify much, so, Y/N just waits, expression patient, for him to expand on his own;
“When they first woke me up I- I was so certain that Steve was going to come and get me out like he did the first time— In that camp— I didn’t believe them when they said he wasn’t going too- I thought they were just trying to break me quicker y’know? and then- then I heard that he was dead and it… it was- it was too much for me, on- on top of everything else. He thinks that it was just him who lost someone- but- I- I lost him too and I- I didn’t have anythin’ else…”
Oh, god- that… that’s sadder than anything else he could’ve said.
“Everything else they did to me, everything hurt so much, but I was hangin’ on… waiting for him- even- even after the first few wipes— It was only when- when they told me that he was gone I was… that I stopped fightin’ — it… it was the last straw— it- it was over for me after that and he- he acts like it was only him who lost me and not the other way around”
Okay.
That makes sense.
She nods to show that gets it. That she understands now, and then, she sighs, slow and soft because she can tell from the look that’s settled on his face that he feels awfully guilty for saying it out-loud.
“Come on…” she instructs, opening her arms to receive him, “…Come here, sweetheart…”
“I worry about him too” he mumbles, trying to justify himself, “when he disappears for days at a time and won’t talk about where he’s been- I don’t corner his friends and demand to know what he’s working on— I’ve never even asked you about what he does for SHEILD—“
He’s right, she realises, he’s never asked about Steve’s roll, not even once—
“I know” He hears her agree, “I’m not sure I would’ve been able to answer even if you had, but he’s safe, okay? I can tell you that much- You’re both safe.”
“That’s not the point” he grumbles, pulling back to look at her again, “Y/N/N, the point is that I trust him to keep himself that way— Even when we were kids, he’d get himself into all these scrapes and I still had to trust that he could handle it— I’d help when I could— but I never tried to stop him from doing what he wanted. I never made him feel like he wasn’t allowed to go off on his own.”
Her mouth is set. Expression considerate as she strokes his cheek.
She’s suddenly very proud of him. For telling her all of this when it’s clearly not easy for him to put into words. For opening up, and for holding himself together so well while he does so. She definitely doesn’t want to discourage him from speaking, so, she waits, letting her fingers curl across his jaw, until it’s obvious that he’s done.
and then, she nods.
“You’ve got history” Y/N decides, “it’s messy, and complicated— but you’re family, Buck. You care about each other, and this is all going to be okay.”
His eyes are glued on hers as he swallows, thick and nervous.
“You don’t think you could talk to him about this?”
No. No, the way that his face falls at the mere suggestion of that is a blatant enough answer.
“It’d kill him, Y/N/N.”
That hadn’t been the explanation she’d been expecting.
Her surprise must’ve been easy to read, because he offers her a tight lipped smile and turns to peck at her palm.
“He feels bad enough about the whole thing” he murmurs, “I can’t tell him about how I was waitin’ on him to save me… about how hard I took it when he— when it turned out that he couldn’t…he’d… he’d never get over it, doll. He’d blame himself for the rest of his life— I couldn’t do that to the kid, no matter how difficult he’s bein’ right now.”
Fine, that’s understandable.
“Did talking to me about it make you feel better?”
He chuckles at that, before smiling more surely and nodding.
“It did, actually.”
“Good” she replies, “I’m glad— hopefully Nat got through to him about the stalking.”
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