✮ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
✮ Summary: Bucky Barnes hates crowds, noise, and busy stores. But when you say you’re heading to the grocery store, suddenly he’s lacing up his boots and holding your hand like it’s a battlefield.
✮ Word Count: ~1,030
✮ Genre: Fluff, Domestic, Established Relationship, Clingy!Bucky
→ welcome to my bucky brain rot. masterlist lives here
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ✦✦ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ✦✦ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The moment you say, “I’m running to the store real quick,” Bucky looks up from the couch like you just said you were moving to another country.
“The grocery store?” he asks, brows knitting like it’s a dangerous mission. He’s sprawled out in his softest hoodie, hair in a messy bun, a book half-open on his chest.
You pause in the doorway, already zipping up your hoodie. “Yeah. Just for like eggs, oat milk, cereal. In and out.”
He sits up, instantly alert. “I’ll come with you.”
Your head tilts, amused. “You hate crowds.”
“I do.”
“And you called the cereal aisle ‘capitalist chaos’ last time.”
He shrugs, already standing and shoving his socked feet into boots “Still true. But I’m not letting you go alone.”
“You think I’m gonna get jumped at Whole Foods?” you ask with a grin.
He doesn’t smile back, but the look in his eyes is soft. “I think I’ll miss you for the 45 minutes you’re gone.”
Your chest squeezes. “Bucky…”
He grabs your hand. “Let me come. I’ll even hold the basket.”
You can’t say no to that face. Especially not when he’s blinking at you with those ridiculous baby blues like you hung the moon and organize the produce aisle.
✦✦✦
The store is, predictably, a little too busy for Bucky’s liking.
He hovers close behind you, glancing around like he’s scanning for threats in the cereal aisle. His hand never leaves yours if someone bumps into him, he shifts, shielding you with his broad frame like you’re his most important mission.
You tug him along gently, navigating carts and snack displays “You okay, Sergeant Snuggles?”
“I’d be better if you didn’t keep walking five feet away from me,” he grumbles, fingers tightening around yours.
“I was reaching for bread, not vanishing into the night.”
He makes a noise, low and pouty. “Still too far.”
You hand him the loaf, and he holds it like it’s a peace offering “You know you don’t have to do this,” you say, stopping for a moment. “I mean it. You don’t owe me grocery runs.”
“I know,” he replies, voice softer now. “But I want to be where you are. Even if that’s a stupid fluorescent-lit hell full of crying toddlers and overpriced apples.”
You laugh, squeezing his hand. “That’s the mushiest thing anyone’s ever said to me in the produce section.”
“Good. You deserve mushy.” He presses a kiss to your temple as you reach for apples. “And you deserve backup. Grocery stores are war zones. I saw a guy fight a grandma over frozen waffles last week.”
“That was Costco.”
“Same thing.”
✦✦✦
By the time you reach the checkout line, you’ve got everything you need and a few extra things Bucky silently added. A lavender-scented candle, your favorite chocolate bar, and a tiny stuffed bear he slipped in while you were distracted by the kombucha.
You pretend not to notice until you’re bagging “Really?” you ask, holding up the bear.
He shrugs, looking adorably unrepentant. “It looked like it belonged to you.”
“It’s pink.”
“So?”
“It’s got glitter in its ears.”
“I have glitter in my ears after that art night you dragged me to.”
You laugh, pressing the bear to your chest. “Fine. I love it.”
“I know.” He smiles at you, the kind that makes his eyes crinkle and your heart stutter.
✦✦✦
Back home, he helps you put the groceries away, but mostly he just leans against the counter and watches you with gooey eyes.
“You gonna help, or…?” you tease, trying to stack cereal boxes in the cabinet.
“I am helping,” he says, taking the box from your hands and putting it in the wrong cabinet entirely.
“That’s where the mugs go.”
“New system. Mugs and cereal. Breakfast corner.”
You snort. “You’re ridiculous.”
He traps you between him and the counter, pressing a slow, sweet kiss to your forehead. “Ridiculously in love with you.”
And you melt, like you always do. Because yeah, he hates crowds. He hates noise. He’d rather stay home, wrapped in a blanket, reading with the cat curled up on his chest.
But if you’re going even just to the store he’s going, too. Because the truth is, Bucky Barnes would follow you anywhere.
And the worst part of it all was that you didn’t seem to even notice.
He was doing everything to show you how unhappy he was, from putting his hands on his hips, to huffing and puffing dramatically and even doing his best pout but yet you didn’t even notice.
Honestly? It broke his heart.
“Bucky? Are you ready yet?” You called out, the thought of being late and having an angry Nat on at you all day was not on the to-do list.
“Yeah.”
“Come on then.”
“No.”
“No?” Rolling your eyes at him - although he couldn’t see you - you went back upstairs and into your shared bedroom. “We’ve gotta go Buck.”
“No.”
“Steve will be there.” You tried.
“Not a child.”
“Well stop acting like one then.” Grabbing his backpack off the bed you went back over to the door. “Are you coming or not?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s go then otherwise Nat’s going to be mad and I can’t be doing with that.”
You smile softly at him as he finally comes over to you, taking his backpack he frowns as he walks down the stairs behind you.
“What’s wrong with him?” Wanda asks eyeing a sulking Bucky as he sits with Steve and Sam.
“I don’t know, been like it all morning.” Watching him twist his bottle in between his hands, ignoring the conversation between his two best friends. “He sat in the back.”
“What?”
“On the way over here he sat in the back.” You shrugged. “I asked but all he did was pout at me.”
“Never thought I’d hear about a super soldier pouting.” Wanda laughs. “You should talk to him.”
Nodding and making your way over to Bucky, he gives you the most adorable pout ever before taking your hand in his and following behind you like a lost puppy.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Yes there is.” Wrapping your arms around his waist you look up at him. “So, please tell me what’s wrong.”
He mumbles something so quietly that you don’t catch it, asking him to repeat he sighs dramatically. “You didn’t give me my morning kiss.”
“Huh?”
“Your lips did not touch mine this morning.” He says slowly, sassy pants even points to your lips to his own.
“I did.”
“Didn’t.”
“I… I didn’t, oh Bucky I’m so sorry.”
“‘M not happy.”
“I know, I can give it you now? I know it’s a little late.”
He actually pretends to think of his answer before grinning. “I would like my good morning kiss now." Bucky sighs in happiness the second your lips touched his, wrapping his arm around your waist he brings you even closer to him.
Resting his forehead against yours his smile widens. “Are you happy now?”
“Indeed I am.”
He pecks your lips in a quick kiss, leaving you to laugh behind him as he practically skips back over to Steve and Sam.
Bucky X reader where reader has a hard time sleeping and goes into his room and asks to stay the night with him?
I loved writing this! Enjoy!
Safe In His Arms
Struggling to sleep in the unfamiliar avengers compound you seek comfort in Bucky.
Fluff, slight smut.
The Avengers compound was too quiet at night, the kind of stillness that made your thoughts louder. You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the ache of loneliness settle in your chest. No matter how much you tossed and turned, sleep wouldn’t come.
With a sigh, you threw off the blanket and wandered into the dimly lit hallway, your bare feet cool against the polished floor. Without realizing it, you found yourself outside Bucky Barnes’ door.
You hesitated, your hand hovering over the wood. Bucky had been your rock since you moved in, his steady presence a comfort amidst the chaos. But waking him up in the middle of the night? Was that pushing it?
The ache in your chest grew stronger, and before you could overthink, you knocked softly.
The door opened a moment later, revealing Bucky in a rumpled gray T-shirt and sweats, his hair slightly tousled. His sleepy blue eyes blinked at you, his brow furrowing in concern.
“Y/N? What’s wrong?”
“I… I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Everything feels so… overwhelming.”
Bucky’s features softened as he stepped aside. “Come in.”
His room was simple but warm, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting shadows over the walls. You perched on the edge of the bed, your fingers twisting in your lap.
“I didn’t mean to bother you,” you mumbled.
“You’re not bothering me,” he said gently, sitting beside you. “I know what it’s like. This place can feel… big. Lonely.”
You nodded, a lump forming in your throat. “Can I… stay? Just for tonight?”
He studied you for a moment, his gaze soft. Then, without a word, he pulled back the blanket and slid under it, patting the space beside him.
“Come here,” he said, his voice low and inviting.
You hesitated only for a moment before climbing in beside him. To your surprise, Bucky didn’t keep his distance. Instead, he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you gently against his chest.
“You okay like this?” he asked, his voice rumbling in your ear.
“Yes,” you whispered, your cheeks warming. “This is… perfect.”
He rested his chin lightly on the top of your head, his metal arm resting across your hip while his warm hand rubbed soothing circles on your back. “You’re safe here,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”
The tension in your body melted away as you relaxed into his embrace, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling you into calm.
For a while, the two of you lay there in silence, your body completely at ease in his arms. But as the minutes passed, you couldn’t ignore the way your heart raced, how every little movement he made sent a warmth coursing through you.
You tilted your head slightly to look up at him. His blue eyes were already on you, soft and filled with something you couldn’t quite place.
“Thank you, Bucky,” you whispered, your voice heavy with emotion.
He smiled faintly, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Anytime, doll. Always.”
Something in the air shifted. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned up and pressed your lips softly to his.
He froze for a moment, as if caught off guard, but then his hand cupped your cheek, deepening the kiss. It wasn’t rushed or frantic it was warm and consuming, like he was pouring everything he couldn’t say into it. His lips moved against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache.
When you finally pulled back, breathless, his forehead rested against yours, his hand still cradling your face.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your lips curled into a small smile. “Me too.”
He chuckled softly, pulling you closer against his chest. “Get some sleep now, sweetheart. You’re not going anywhere.”
And with his warmth wrapped around you and his kiss still lingering on your lips, you finally felt at home.
summary: what was supposed to be a fun day outside, spent throwing snowballs and enjoying a winter wonderland-turned new york, turns into a breakdown for bucky. inspired by this tiktok (don't read the comments unless you want your heart broken)
cw: angst, ptsd (bucky), panic attack, hurt/comfort, arguing :( sad bucky :( but happy(ish) ending!!
wc: 2.1k
a/n: an angsty little christmassy fic? heck yes :) i’ve been feeling a little blue, maybe even a little insecure about my writing, so I decided to write a bit for bucky. definitely made me feel better. he’s still my favorite ♡
now playing: Snow Angel – Reneé Rapp
The year was just a few weeks shy of ending, with Christmas right around the corner, and Bucky hadn’t been doing well. The cold months always hit him the hardest, with memories he’d rather forget flooding back and nightmares disrupting his nightly rest. You had just wanted to do something nice with him—for him. But under no circumstance had you expected the day to end with poisonous words and tears.
To you, it was all so romantic. The frost-kissed city, the red noses, and warm drinks smelling of brown sugar and peppermint—it felt like a dream come true. Spending Christmas in New York had been your biggest wish for a while, and to be able to share it with your lover should have been the cherry on top. If only said lover could enjoy it as much as you.
Bucky had been out of it all morning. Another bad dream, another bad night. You watched as he moved through the kitchen like a ghost, a forgotten cup of coffee growing cold in between his palms. His eyes were empty as he observed how the snowflakes slowly settled on the neighbors’ roofs like powdered sugar.
You were cautious as you walked up to him, not wanting to startle him. With a gentle clearing of your throat, you drew his attention to you.
“Bucky?” you mumbled, reaching out for his hand.
He gave it to you instantly, as if he didn’t even need to think about it.
“Yeah?” he replied. His voice was a little hoarse, probably from lack of use.
With your other hand, you softly cupped his cheek and tilted his face towards you.
“You wanna do something fun today? Get out of the house for a bit?” you asked.
His eyebrows scrunched together, and for a moment, a flicker of something you couldn’t quite name – worry, or maybe even apprehension – passed across his expression. It was gone in an instant, but you’d remember it forever.
Maybe you should have insisted that he didn’t have to, that you could just stay home and cuddle on the couch until the two of you fell asleep, but you thought you were doing him a favor by giving him a change of scenery. You hoped that a good memory in the snow might help overshadow the bad ones. You had no idea how wrong you were.
But Bucky nodded slowly. He didn’t seem overwhelmed with joy, but his lips twitched into a small smile.
“Sure, doll, that sounds nice.”
--
Bundled up in your winter coats, Bucky held your hand as you walked through Central Park. It was still early—and cold—enough that the park was relatively empty. Sure, the occasional dog walker, a couple of tourists, and a group of runners passed by, but it wasn’t too overwhelming. Just what Bucky needed—at least you hoped.
He looked so sweet; the flush on his cheeks from the cold gave him a boyish look that you’d love to see on him more often. It might have made him look more carefree, if it weren’t for the deepening divot between his brows.
You had learned to love his frown, an almost constant companion ever since the weather had turned.
Still, you couldn’t help but worry.
“Buck?” you mumbled as you nudged him with your shoulder.
“Mhm?”
His eyes were slightly glazed over; that far-removed look edged into his face gave you worse chills than the cold.
“You feel like talking?” you asked quietly.
When you first started dating Bucky, you had to learn a lot—how to comfort, what to ask, what to offer. It still proved as a challenge from time to time, but you liked to think that you were getting there.
Asking him, making it his choice to open up, usually worked wonders.
But not today.
He shook his head ever so slightly before he murmured, “I just wanna hold your hand.”
You squeezed his in response and smiled gently. This would have to do then.
The park began to fill as the sun moved higher into the sky. The light filtering in gave a soft gleam to the snow, the single crystals sparkling up to greet you.
All this beauty still couldn’t take your mind off of Bucky. He walked right beside you, but he had never seemed more unreachable.
As you trotted by a meadow covered with the soft snow, an idea sparked.
“Baby, let’s go make some snow angels,” you proposed giddily, pulling him off the path.
If offering him an outlet didn’t work, you hoped that forcing some fun upon him would manage to relax his mind.
Bucky’s face shifted. You knew he would do almost anything you asked of him, but the terrible night still sat deep in his bones.
“I don’t know, doll,” he muttered. His eyes barely met yours as he ran his hands through his already messy hair.
“C’mon, it’ll be so much fun,” you insisted as you dragged him further onto the snowed-in meadow.
“Sweetheart, I—” you didn’t let him finish before you plopped down onto the ground, beaming up at him.
“Buck, pleaseee.” Putting up your best, whiny voice seemed to somewhat persuade him. He followed you onto the thick, white blanket, the scowl on his face persisting.
You let yourself fall into the snow and began to move your arms and legs away from and then back to your body.
To you, it was all good fun—something remnant of your childhood. The cold air prickled in your nose while your coat slowly got drenched with icy water, and a gleeful giggle fell from your lips.
Nostalgic memories of winters long passed warmed your heart enough that you turned to Bucky to propose making more snow angels, but the blood froze in your veins as you saw him. Actually saw him.
He just lay there in the snow, unmoving. No attempt to create any kind of shapes, or to even move a single muscle. For a moment, you weren’t even sure if he was breathing. You couldn’t see his face, not really. And then you heard it—a faint sob.
It was muffled by his hand pressed against his mouth, but even so, it ripped through your soul in one clean tear.
“Bucky…?” Your voice shook as you scrambled towards him, the wet cold seeping in through your clothes.
He didn’t react at all. His cries, however, became heavier, turning into gasps.
Fear like you’ve never felt before crashed through your system, and your hand trembled as you reached out with a shaky hand.
Bucky flinched away before you could even make contact with him. His breathing grew even quicker, shallower. Under his collar, you saw the veins in his neck bulging as the panic threatened to overwhelm him.
“Bucky, what can I do?” you pleaded, still tempted to calm him with a hug, or a simple touch, or anything at all. The helplessness began to settle in your bones like lead.
All you got in response was a shake of his head, and your mouth went dry.
“Buck, please—can you just look at me. Just- just take a breath, you need to calm down,” you whispered.
“Calm down?”
His voice.
Despite the bitterness ringing deep, the dread still clinging to every fiber of him, the fear in your chest eased at least for a moment.
“Talk to me, baby,” you begged, “Just- tell me what to do, okay? Do you—”
“Just leave it,” he bit out, rolling onto his side.
You felt all the blood leave your face.
“Buck?”
“No!”
Before you knew what was happening, he managed to get onto his feet, clumsily so.
And then he was already running.
You had always known Bucky was fit. You had seen him work out, even let yourself be persuaded to go on a run with him, but the speed with which he was darting away still shocked you. In that moment, he wasn’t a man or supersoldier. No, he ran like a wounded animal, creating as much space between the two of you as possible.
“Bucky!” you called out after him, but it was no use.
Still, you dashed after him. Your lungs screamed as the chilly winter air settled in your chest, but the sight of him growing smaller and smaller in the distance spurred you on.
You kept calling his name, desperate to make him hear, see, realize that you weren’t the enemy.
In the end, it was a tree stump that stopped him. Bucky crashed into it at full speed, and he toppled over without getting back up.
The minute it took you to catch up to him stretched like hours. For every second of it, you were scared he’d regain his strength and start running again, but he stayed down.
You dropped to your knees right by his side, only to hear him still gasping for air.
“Buck, Buck, please, look at me,” you whispered, your voice thick with tears you hadn’t noticed before.
He dropped his face into his hands, his shoulders trembling.
“Please,” you repeated shakily.
As he continued to ignore you—or maybe he just couldn’t hear you—you took a deep breath. You had to calm down, for both of you.
“Bucky,” you said more firmly, then took one of his hands and pried it away from his face.
“Listen to me,” you instructed, “I need you to take a deep breath, okay? Just one. You can do that.”
He had never looked at you the way he did in that moment. That pure disbelief mixed with anger—you would pay to forget that expression.
But you didn’t let your feelings take over in that moment. He was panicking, and you knew that he needed you to be rational right then.
You rested his hand on your chest and covered it with your own.
“You can do it,” you insisted, “Just follow my lead, okay?”
With exaggerated breaths, you forced him to feel the way your lungs expanded. And then, a bit shakily, he managed one of his own. And then another one.
--
“I told you I didn’t want this.”
It was the first thing he said. You had almost gotten used to the silence at that point, still crouched down next to him. His hand was no longer on your chest, but in his lap by then.
“I-I… you know how I feel about snow, and-and the cold, and you think I should make snow angels?” he snarled.
Your heart sank with every word.
“I thought—" you began, but he cut you off.
“No, you didn’t.”
You bit your tongue. You weren’t sure what hurt more, your mouth or his words.
“Bucky—” you tried again, but he gave you no chance.
“No, Christ, just- just stop it.”
“No, you stop it,” you bit out. You didn’t know when your hands had begun to tremble.
“You’re not being fair,” you added, attempting to keep your tone in check, “I was just trying to make you feel better.”
“What, you think a couple hours in the snow will make me forget? You think it’ll fix me? Christ, doll, you can’t fix me! How many more times do I have to disappoint you for that to sink in!?”
“Bucky—” your voice cracked, “—I’m not trying to fix you.”
You shook your head, scooting closer to him.
“Listen to me. You’re not broken. And I’m not trying to make you better. All I wanted was for us to have a nice day and- and…”
You drifted off, afraid anything you said would just sound as stupid as you felt in that moment.
“And you could never disappoint me,” you mumbled quietly then.
The silence you were met with was deafening.
You didn’t dare look up at him, not until his hand lifted your chin.
His eyes looked darker, the snow contrasting so brightly it almost hurt. His irises were a combination of wild waves crashing into each other, mixed with a desperate sadness you feared might linger there forever.
His fingers were as cold as the rest of the city as he held your face.
“Why are you still here?” he whispered.
“Because I love you.”
He laughed wetly, the sound grotesque and bone-chilling. And then the second waves of tears fell.
Wet, salty streams of sobs rocked his body. This time, he let you hold him. With measured patience, you wrapped your arms around him, softly swaying him back and forth. You cradled his head, pressing it into the crook of your neck.
“It’s okay,” you murmured, and kissed his temple gently.
His fingers dug into your forearm as he held onto you tightly.
“I got you.”
❤︎ just a quick reminder that the best way to support authors on here is to comment and reblog ❤︎
☆ find my masterlist here ☆
summary: One night, Bucky wakes up alone in their bed and finds his best girl sleepwalking through the compound.
word count: 2k
warnings: sleepwalking, mentions of injuries, a fluffy cloud of fluffness, Bucky being the best boyfriend ever, my lack of sleepwalking knowledge
author’s note: I don’t know where this came from, so we have to deal with it now lol. The ending is shit—as always—because—as always—I haven’t learned to write them. This is not entirely proofread. The dividers are by the fantastic @enchanthings-a!
He knew something was missing. He felt something was off deep in slumber, his mind starting to work, trying to get the former Winter Soldier to wake and get up in order to find the source of his sudden comfortlessness. In his past, he wouldn’t have stirred, wouldn’t have felt it in the slightest, but now, ever since finding a home within this team and within the arms of one particular woman, he had turned into a deep sleeper, only ever getting disturbed by the soft touches of his girlfriend.
So it was an odd thing for him to wake up in the middle of the night without having a nightmare that had rattled the man within the depth of his bones, but suddenly, he felt awareness creeping into his subconscious. Slowly, his eyes started to move behind closed lids, and a hand wandered from his side of the shared bed onto the other side, awaiting to feel the warmth and softest skin of a woman right next to him.
The touch of coldness and the missing body lying there on the mattress let him blink sleepily into the darkness. “Darlin’…?” His rough voice, still laced with sleep, asked into their shared room in the compound, his mind still adjusting to being back in the waking world. A second later, he was wide awake, slight panic searing through him, and he was able to shake off the remnants of drowsiness he had experienced mere moments ago.
Confusion settled right next to the panic while he got out of bed to check on the adjacent bathroom, looking for his girlfriend there without any luck. Instead of heading back to bed—which human being could do such a thing?—the soldier snuck out the door and slowly paced through the massive, still-slumbering building they all called home. He didn’t even think about asking the AI for assistance—not because he was scared shitless of the bodiless voice echoing from every wall and corner, no. Never. He was old-school; he could do things on his own without the help of a program he still couldn’t grasp.
“Love?”
His soft voice entered the kitchen and living area before his body did, but the smell had been prominent ever since he had left the stairs behind. The kitchen was barely filled with the soft, warm gleam of the light above the stove, the kitchen island covered in bowls, utensils, and ingredients. The oven hummed happily in the background, another source of soft yellowish light, a baking form sitting in it from which the smell steadily wafted through the air, comforting him immediately.
It reminded him of home back in the day, of the cooking and baking skills his mom had possessed, of the comfort he always had felt when returning home from school, a soft embrace and food awaiting him there. That emotion hit him right into the chest, making him pause in the door frame to watch the scene unfold, but shaking off the nostalgia and the pictures trying to creep in front of his inner eye because he had sworn he wouldn’t live in the past anymore. He was needed in the present—and preferred it that way.
Blinking against the past, his glance darted through the living area and…
And in the middle of the kitchen, right in front of the large cooking island—stood his girlfriend, softly cradling another silver bowl filled with something resembling a batter or dough, which she gently stirred. He watched her for a moment and saw how she stopped abruptly before continuing without another thought, eyes half closed and entirely unfocused. She hummed softly to a tune only she could hear, wholly lost in her very own world—or in a dream.
Bucky knew she sleepwalked in her youth and how badly those episodes could get, especially in phases when she was stressed or anxious beyond measure. It happening now worried him to an extent he hadn’t felt… ever, not even when she had been down with the worst flue he had ever witnessed, and even then, he had acted like a headless chicken—according to Stark and Clint.
While the soldier kept watching his girlfriend, contemplating how to proceed from here, he had to ask himself if he had overlooked things, signs, hints of how badly a shape she was in, how exhausting those long days in the past couple of weeks had been for both of them, how the stress had built up. She had promised him that everything was alright and she felt good after the latest mission the team had left for two weeks ago, but apparently, either she had lied to him in order to soothe his over-worrying mind, or she hadn’t realized it herself.
Either way, the brunet entered the kitchen slowly and quietly, turning off the oven and softly placing his bigger hands over hers, holding the bowl and mixing spoon in a tight grip, covering them in the process. “You baked enough, my darlin’,” he whispered soothingly as he made her put down the utensils, not minding the mess they would soon leave behind. “It smells amazing in here. ‘m sure the team will appreciate your hard nightly work, doll.” Praise after praise left his lips, all the while he started to pick his girlfriend up in his arms to carry her to their resting place one floor above them.
She mumbled incoherent words all the way back, her head resting heavily against his shoulder, her body melting more and more into his chest with every step the super soldier took. The moment Bucky gently tucked the woman of his dreams into their bed, her half-closed eyes finally fell shut again, and her breathing grew deeper and slower. For a few heartbeats, he lingered at her side of the bed, crouching down in order to be on eye level with her sleeping form, and allowed himself yet another self-indulging touch, caressing her soft cheek with the back of his fingers. Bucky swallowed thickly when he felt his heart squeezing oh so beautifully in his chest, reminding the former Winter Soldier yet again of how lucky a man he could count himself to be.
“You have no idea how much you’ve changed everything, sweetheart,” he dared to whisper raspily into the darkness of their room. “I’m not sure if I would’ve pushed through and still be here without you.” The Barnes had been in such a dark place when he first came here, the burden of the committed atrocities haunting him every waking and sleeping moment until he felt like not being strong enough to hold on. Then, she came around and lightened up his entire world. They had both saved one another in different ways, he knew that, and still, he couldn’t grasp the fortune that had been granted to him.
He leaned closer and pressed a loving, lingering kiss to her forehead, his eyes closed for a second or two, savoring the feeling, before he stood and went into the adjacent bathroom, wetting a washcloth with warm water. With slow steps, he patted back to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, taking one of her hands softly in his metal one and started wiping away the remnants of her little baking excursion, softly humming a tune of an old record that kept stuck in his mind. So dedicated to his task to take care of his girl and the music playing in a gentle loop in his thoughts, Bucky didn’t realize she was waking up until a soft gasp escaped her, and her fingers flexed between his. Blinking, the brunet looked up and straight into her slightly disoriented expression, eyes still heavy with sleep and exhaustion that was now so evident, he had to ask himself if he was a blind fool.
“Bucky…? What-…” She sat up slowly, her glance trained on her fingers, which still weren’t entirely clean, but Bucky didn’t stop with his task. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” he soothed her with a smile, the washcloth still moving across her skin. “Did I do something? Broke something? Woke someone up?” He smiled when her first thoughts that came to mind were the worry for any other person than herself. “No one noticed your little baking session in the kitchen downstairs, love. Well, maybe Friday, but she was kind enough not to say anything. And before you worry, I turned off the oven.”
Having her hands finally cleaned, the soldier balled the washcloth up and threw it in the overall direction of the laundry basket already prepared for laundry day in a few hours, not minding if he missed it by a few feet because he was already in the process of scooping his girl into his arms. He settled down with her comfortably resting on his chest, claiming her side of the bed for now, his thighs slightly spread to make space for her legs.
“Sorry if I worried you,” YN whispered when she made herself more comfortable, chin resting on her folded hands atop his chest, her eyes observing his deadly handsome face. Bucky, on the other hand, let his fingers push back a soft strand of her hair, his metal ones resting on the small of her back, his thumb moving in slow circles over the fabric of her shirt—which once belonged to him. “You have nothing to be sorry for, darlin’. But I have to ask.” He grew quiet for a moment, searching her face for more signs he so blatantly had missed in the past couple of days since their return from Macau. “Are you okay? I know you said everything’s fine, but you only ever sleepwalked when you’re stressed or anxious, and I’m worrying, sweetheart.”
He felt the creases between his eyebrows appear and only relaxed when YN reached up to him, her thumb gently pressing on the apparent lines and softly massaging them away. “Perhaps Macau was more stressful than I initially thought,” she whispered into their dimly lit bedroom and sighed deeply when Bucky cupped her cheek, immediately leaning into the warm palm of his hand. “What about a little trip somewhere, then? Just the two of us, phones either turned off or left behind, no one to disturb us and you can relax and work through your TBR pile.” Bucky almost desperately hoped for her to agree to this positively spontaneous idea of his because he knew he could make her forget the world for a few days when they just had time for themselves and no one in close proximity to thwart his efforts.
Bucky didn’t want to wake up one night to see YN missing from their bed again, but to find her in a more dangerous situation than this time around. He didn’t want to imagine everything that could happen—didn’t want to remember everything that had happened in her youth. He knew of the bruises, the broken arms, the sliced skin after she had dropped a plate, and the police appearing at her family’s door with a disoriented YN in tow after they had found her wandering around the neighborhood. No, he really didn’t want to live through any of it—and he didn’t want to have YN experience all of it again. Bucky had sworn to protect this woman with his life if needed, and he would be damned if he didn’t try anything he possibly could in order to get her as relaxed as possible.
YN nudged his chin with her fingers, helping him escape his spiraling mind, sighing quietly when she leaned closer to kiss him. “Could we drive up north to see the Niagara Falls? Maybe we can find a cozy cabin somewhere close—oh, we could even visit Toronto without having to stop a subsidiary branch of HYDRA.” Bucky started to grin at her obvious excitement at this entirely not thought-through idea, and he pulled her even closer to press a lazy, lingering kiss to her soft lips. “We can do whatever you want, darlin’.” It was barely a whisper, more like a murmur, while his heart squeezed again at the almost otherworldly, deep feelings coursing through him every time he looked at her, heard her, felt her.
Thank you so much for reading! As usual: consider leaving a like, a comment, and a reblog <3
A/N: Been a bit, but this took a turn and I'm working on something different and much longer.
Summary: Bucky got called away on a mission. You haven't answered your phone for three days. He gets back to the compound only to find Tony telling him, Steve, Sam, and Natasha that something bad happened and he doesn't know where you are. When they find you it isn't what anyone expects. Except for Natasha.
Warnings: LANGUAGE. Canon typical violence. Mentions of firearms. Mentions of mafia. Allusions to torture. Minimal Y/N use. Use of doll. Fluff. Some flirting. Pop culture references (See if you can find them all and leave them in the comments. Some are obvious, some less so.) Can't think of much else. Correct me if I'm wrong.
Word Count: Almost 5.2k
Master List: Scorpio AU
Previous Story: Coffee
Next Story: Flowers
AO3 Link: Dessert
===================
Tired. Bucky was genuinely just…tired. He really needed to sleep. More than a 10-minute power nap, but he needed to see you.
Dessert had been postponed, unfortunately, as the moment he left from archives he was called to go out on a mission. With Steve, Sam, and Natasha. To go and check in on an abandoned HYDRA base that wasn’t exactly abandoned yet also not exceptionally occupied.
It felt like a distraction. Especially as he remembered the base in question. It should have been loaded with people. It had barely a dozen and none of them were particularly high-ranking.
Bucky didn’t like it.
What he liked even less than that was you not answering his texts or calls.
What was worse than that…was the brief flicker across Natasha’s face when he said you weren’t answering and then the increasing agitation she tried to hide as they flew back to the Compound. She hid it but he saw it. He saw it and she refused to say anything.
Steve and Sam were noticeably off about it as well. Yet instead of not saying anything they tried to reassure him. That…was the worst.
“She’s probably just…busy.” Steve said and gestured with his hands, one more at Sam to help him come up with something else to say.
“Probably digging out another old recipe to torture us with. She didn’t answer me back for four hours when she was working on that cake.”
“It’s been 3 days.” Bucky said and he shut his mouth.
“I’m sure she’s fine, Buck.” Steve said as reassuringly as he could.
It didn’t work.
“She’s not gonna go running off and get into trouble.” He added and Bucky nodded.
“No. She’s not you.” He agreed but they all frowned and looked on in shock when they landed and saw a beaten, slightly charred, and bloodied Tony there to greet them, “What happened?”
“Well, funny thing really. It was like that whole mission you went on was a distraction to get the most HYDRA informed people as far away as possible.”
“Where is she?” Bucky asked, his mind racing with everything that could have happened, how injured you could be, if you were alive, who did it, what he would do if they hurt you, and so much more that it took Steve’s hand on his shoulder to stop the thoughts from spiraling darker.
“Well…” Tony started, knowing who he was talking about as they all knew about his attachment to you, “Uh…we…don’t…really know. Her tracker keeps pinging to a location in Jersey…”
“So why haven’t you gone there to find her?” Sam asked, pointedly glancing at Bucky as his face went blank and he twitched.
“We have. She’s not there. The tracker isn’t there either. Can’t find it.” Tony answered and Steve spoke.
“Why does she have a tracker, Tony?” he asked, rather pointedly as he held Tony’s gaze.
It was accusatory. Bucky knew why. They all did. Tony had habits. Ones that did not sit well with Steve Rogers and they’d clashed over it more than once.
This wasn’t the time for it right now.
“I don’t care why she has one, why isn’t it where she is?” Bucky asked.
“Thank you. See? Barnes knows his priorities.” Tony said to him, fully accepting the escape tunnel Bucky gave him from answering, “We were hoping Nat could tell us. She knows our little psycho archivist the best. Two peas in a pod. You might have the hots for her, Barnes, but Romanoff knows her far better.”
They all looked at Natasha. Bucky was too worried to deny what Tony said or to even get flustered at it. He needed answers.
Now.
“Well it depends on where in Jersey it took you and what happened here.” She answered and Tony nodded.
He went on to describe the incident. Just as they arrived at the HYDRA base communications shut down and the alarms regarding some of the more sensitive contents of the archives started blaring. The base was indeed meant as a distraction and the target HYDRA had set its sights on happened to be situated in the Archives.
Since losing SHEILD they lost not only a substantial part of their access to intel but several items that they were very interested in retrieving. The HYDRA base was not the only distraction they set up to achieve their mission in retrieving what they wanted. Several were initiated over the course of several hours that kept Tony, Clint, Bruce, and every other Avenger quite occupied and the compound quite not occupied.
“So you left the compound undefended?” Steve asked bluntly.
“No. I sent the kid here to keep an eye on things and there’s several people we’re still trying to get the webbing off of to question. I warned him ahead of time to make sure they couldn’t bite down on anything, he did, but he was the one to head down and find that they were after the archives. Most of the archivists were in the safe room. Three were not. You already know who one of them was. One of the others was Reggie Smith. We found him later tied to a tree stump further up the river and gagged with a note pinned to him.” Tony explained, “Apparently he’s a mole. Not for HYDRA exactly but for a company working with HYDRA out of Idaho since the 70s. He swears he didn’t know it was going to cause an incident with HYDRA and begged me not to tell any of you, particularly the Manchurian Candidate here…and he was sobbing something about pigs.”
“Who’s the other archivist missing?” Nat asked with a calm and amused smile.
“Shelly ‘Contraband Bra’ Duty. She dropped her tracker in Yonkers so I’m not sure where she is either. We’re running scans on every camera in the tristate area to track down both, but…it’d be faster if Nat could just tell us.”
“Where in Jersey?”
“A really creepy old family theme park. Stuff of nightmares.” Tony answered and she nodded, “Know it?”
“Yep.” She said and started walking back towards the jet, “You run the security footage?”
“They cut the main feed but the backups caught everything.” Tony said as he followed her along with Steve, Sam and Bucky.
“What it’d show?” Sam asked as he glanced at Tony warily, “She alright?”
“I need to give her a raise and question our resident spy a bit more next time I hire one of her friends.” He said and handed over a tablet while Steve just chuckled knowingly.
Bucky looked at the screen as Sam hit play and watched. He was worried. It didn’t get better watching the video.
You were sitting at your desk working when the sirens went off. You didn’t panic, you just sighed. Bucky knew that sigh immediately. You were annoyed. Not scared, not worried, just annoyed and it only grew as Reggie snuck out from the doorway.
You didn’t say anything to him, you just reached into your desk and pulled out a pistol, loaded it with a dart, and calmly shot him with it, dropping him face first onto the hard floor. The look on your face was one of pure annoyance, especially as you pulled out a different gun and loaded a clip into it before hitting print on the computer. The sirens blared in the background as you took the papers, folded them, and tucked them into your pocket.
“What…the…she is way too comfortable with this.” Sam said and Natasha laughed.
“Knowing her it’ll get better.” She said and Sam looked at Bucky as Bucky looked at him while watching the video continue.
You hoisted Reggie up, slinging his arm around your shoulder as Shelly and a group of HYDRA soldiers showed up just as the archive doors all bolted shut and locked down. Bucky watched, worried, and then stared in complete shock as you spoke to them. In Russian.
“Hail HYDRA. This idiot tripped the back up alarms and got darted before I dragged him out. He knows nothing of the plans, but he’ll serve as a suitable distraction to lead them away.”
“You’re lying. You’re not a known operative.” Shelly replied warily and you rolled your eyes.
“This is why you continue to fail in rising in the ranks. You don’t pay attention to details. Two. Needle. Sugar. Wire. Five. Sunny. Homer. Poseidon.” You replied and the other soldiers lowered their weapons and saluted as Shelly’s jaw dropped.
“You’re Echidna.”
“Obviously I’m Echidna.”
“Then why did you stop me from getting the recipe!”
“Because it was obvious and done sloppy. You’re lucky I didn’t eliminate you as a result for your lack of discipline. It was shameful to see how little you pay attention to details. Every detail matters! That fool Pierce didn’t think details mattered! His hubris cost us nearly everything! What fool doesn’t think the detail of our prized asset being the former best friend of that goody goody Captain America was a detail worth paying attention to? See where that got us?! Sloppy and I’ve had to spend far too much time taking matters into my own hands. Now move. Stark will be sending in the annoying pubescent spider child soon. You three. See that he does not follow while we arrange for a delay.”
“Yes, Grand Mistress!” the soldiers replied, saluting you again, and Natasha snickered.
“What is she saying?” Sam asked and Bucky answered, “No…no way she’s HYDRA.”
“Please tell me there’s more.” Natasha said with a smile at Tony and he nodded swiping the screen to the next video.
Shelly was in complete awe. Rattling on and on about how honored she was to be in your presence. You just nodded, dragging Reggie along until having to go through a door. You handed him over to Shelly. She nearly dropped him and you just shook your head disgusted before taking him back once the door was open.
She apologized and when Peter came into the screen she followed your lead, “There’s a bunch of them in the archives trying to get through the doors!”
“Is he alright?” Peter asked and you nodded.
“He’s fine. We’re taking him out of harm’s way. The med bay’s locked tight. I never finished my tasks down in Archives and something was rattling around in the vents.” You said to him, shifting Reggie’s weight onto your shoulder towards Shelly.
“Mira still in HQ? I thought I heard the emergency meeting call.” Peter said and you nodded.
“Yeah. Alarms went off. We’re headed out that way for a safe ejection from the danger.” You replied and he nodded before swinging off and Natasha snickered again.
“I knew getting them to play that game was a good idea.” She said while laughing and Tony sighed.
“You corrupted my kid.” He said and she rolled her eyes, “That’s the last video we have, though.”
Sam just shook his head. Beyond frustrated and confused.
“So why is she in New Jersey? Now I know she can take care of herself. To a point. She’s friends with you and you say she can, Steve doesn’t worry too much about her, Thor is afraid of her, Loki likes her, and the list goes on down the line until you get to the cyborg here who is practically in love with her…even if he looks as confused as I am. How is she so calm? Please tell me she’s not really HYDRA.” Sam asked before Bucky could and Natasha answered.
“No, she’s not HYDRA, but that’s what her line of research is. Top to bottom.”
“After what happened with Fury, Pierce…everything…I wanted to know more without anyone really knowing I was looking into it.” Tony explained and gestured at Natasha, “I needed someone that knew how to handle themselves and how to protect things at the time. Nat recommended our little psycho librarian so I hired her to do that and put her on the job researching things once I learned she’s fluent in Russian, German, and Crazy.”
“So that’s why you have a tracker on her?” Steve asked and Tony shook his head.
“No, and she knows about it. She agreed to keep it after she found it. She probably told Shelly about it to gain trust.”
“Likely.” Natasha agreed, “She’s not stupid and she’s highly manipulative. She takes her job seriously no matter what it is even if you think she doesn’t.”
“But why New Jersey?” Sam asked again and she smiled.
“You’ll see.”
“I don’t want to see, I want to know.” Bucky said and she just smiled more, “Nat, c’mon. My head’s starting to hurt.”
“You’re ruining my fun, Barnes, but fine. The fun park belonged to one of her former bosses. Irish mafia. She was hired on as security for his daughter and saved her life from a runaway donut truck. He’s retired now. Has a flower shop in Queens, but he gifted her the fun park as a reward for saving his daughter’s life because it’s a safe house. Knowing her…she’s got Shelly locked in a closet while she’s watching a movie. She has a bigger screen in there than Tony does.”
“What?” Tony asked, staring as they all did, even Steve.
“I did not know about the safe house.”
“But you knew she worked for the Irish mob?!” Sam asked and Steve nodded, “And you’re okay with that?!”
“She’s not now.” He said and Sam just looked at Bucky then shook his head.
“Forget I asked.”
“What’s this have to do with me?” Bucky scowled and several minutes later was looking at the dilapidated, run down, and rusted remains of a family fun park with the others.
“Where’s the clown with the bloody knife?” Sam asked as he looked around, “I know there’s one here somewhere. This place screams ‘murder clown’.”
Bucky couldn’t even argue with him. He wanted to. Oh, he wanted to, but he just couldn’t.
Because it did.
Even though he recognized the style of everything as being very reminiscent of his and Steve’s childhoods, it screamed “there’s a psychopath with a kitchen knife hiding around the next corner”. Chipped paint on rusted metal. A soft, gentle, eerie creaking of a loose hinge in the wind. Dried up leaves blowing in the wind. Empty, falling down concession stands. Graffiti sprayed ride walls. Dark doorways where the door was hanging from the hinges rocking in the breeze.
He didn’t want to agree with Sam. Not one bit. Bucky just couldn’t help it.
“So how do we get in?” Tony asked as they followed Natasha through the horrorscape she had brought them to.
She wasn’t even phased. It didn’t surprise Bucky. It didn’t surprise anyone. Not with her. They’d have been surprised if they’d have been surprised.
“It’s accessed under the merry go round.” she answered and Sam raised his eyebrows at the structure up ahead.
“You mean the thing with the melted unicorns painted with blood red horns and fangs on it that looks like it’s a gateway to the nether realm?” he asked and she nodded.
“That’s the one.” She said and stepped up onto the platform and to the center column where she accessed a secret panel and punched in a long alphanumerical code.
They watched the center column open up wider, revealing a set of stairs down. She just smiled as they stared and gestured at them to head on in. They did so, in Sam’s case a bit reluctantly.
Three quarters of the way down they heard a high-pitched scream. Sam jumped. They all did but Bucky recognized it. Not as yours, but as the kind he’d heard back before the war in dimly lit movie theatres where Boris Karloff was on the screen.
Tinny, brassy, classic horror music played down the corridor as they stepped into it. It was long, clean, and grey-painted concrete, but it was nothing like what was above them. Mostly.
A door next to them began mumbling and thumping. A body slamming against it. Hard.
“What the fuck?” Sam asked as they looked at it and Natasha looked at the keypad on it before typing in a code.
A disheveled, muddy, tear-stained, gagged, and broken-heeled Shelly burst out of it onto the floor. She was bruised. Mostly by her own doing and gagged with what looked to have been Reggie’s tie. A tooth was missing from her mouth.
“G-gghaahh! Ga-aaggh!” She gurgled past the spit-soaked fabric up at them as they looked down at her.
“Hello, Shelly.” Tony greeted and she looked at him, “Where is Y/N?”
“Aaaaaahhhhh!” she responded, shaking her head rapidly, “Nnaa naaa naa nnaaa naaa!”
“Damn…what did she do to you?” Sam asked her and she shook her head more, her hair coming undone from its bun and flapping against the floor, leaving more muddy streaks.
“Uh uh! Uh uh! Ooery! Ooery!” she sobbed and Natasha just shook her head and looked down the hallway as the ending credit music stopped and they heard a popcorn machine, “AAHhhh! Cmmin’! Geggie!”
“Whatever your girlfriend did to her…it was fucked up.” Sam said to Bucky and he just blinked, not exactly sure how to process it.
He was torn between being impressed, curious, and worried. Whatever you had done had obviously worked. Shelly was HYDRA, maybe not the best, but she was still HYDRA and whatever you had done had broken her in ways HYDRA likely couldn’t.
Or at least in ways they never thought to try.
That itself was a bit…worrying.
Yet Bucky couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride at how you handled the situation and yourself. He wanted to pick it apart, find a reason to yell at you for putting yourself in danger. Yet…in a way…you hadn’t.
You manipulated your way out of a dangerous situation, took down two agents, and removed yourself to somewhere you knew was safe. It wasn’t like you stuck around to fight off an incursion. You had gotten up and removed yourself to safety. Like he had told you to do.
He knew perfectly well that hiding under your desk would not have helped in that situation. Protocol during situations like that were also for civilian members of staff to get to a safe room or get out as fast as they could. You had technically done both.
He stepped over Shelly to make his way down the hallway. The others could deal with her. He needed to find you. To see you were alright.
He followed the sound of the popcorn machine to a room with an old sign over it that read: Theater Room. Bucky opened it. Then he blinked.
It was exactly what it said it was. It wasn’t set up exactly as a modern one but an older one. In the corner stood a popcorn machine…and you. You also happened to have a gun pointed at him.
The emotionless, blank, and fully ready to pull the trigger look in your eyes instantly eased out when you spotted it was him. So did all the tension from your body. Even as he made his way over to you with a glower set on his face shaking his head you just relaxed and set the gun down on the counter next to you.
“Hey, Bucky.” You greeted him as he marched his way over, steel blue eyes boring into yours, and you knew you were in trouble because you couldn’t figure out what was running through his mind.
He was just focused on you as if mentally chanting that he was going to get you. All you knew was that he wasn’t going to hurt you. Bucky would never do that and you knew it.
So when he reached you and pulled you into his arms, you didn’t tense up, you just relaxed into him more. Especially as he just held you against him, enveloping you with his frame. His arms around you, his chin on your head, tucking you against him as he let out a relieved sigh.
You felt his body relax as you wrapped your arms back around him, silently reassuring him that you were alright. That you were there. That you trusted him.
He was silent, just holding you, his left arm wrapped around your waist securely while the other one gently caressed your head. You knew he had been worried. You knew he would have been from the moment you left, but you did what he had told you to do the day he had brought you coffee.
“If HYDRA ever comes…just…promise me you’ll get out and as far away as you can.” He said, looking at you, serious, and you nodded, and you meant it.
“I promise, Bucky.”
“I’m okay, Bucky. I promise. I’m okay. She broke my phone at one point and I lost hers somewhere in the woods. The phones here don’t work anymore either or I’d have called.” You said and he nodded as he looked down at you, searching your face for any signs of injury or you playing anything down; it just made you smile up at him, “I’m right here, Buck. Safe and sound. Though if you ask Shelly I very much am not of sound mind.”
He let out a soft huff as his lips curled upwards, his right hand gently caressing your jaw and face. It felt good, warm, sweet, and soothing. So soothing and you let yourself relax into it and into him more.
Bucky knew it wasn’t often you did this. You didn’t just relax into anyone or let them see past the indifferent façade you put up. You didn’t have to say it. He knew you were as happy and relieved to see him as he was to see you.
You were, too. Three days hoping he was alright. Three days hoping everything was going to be alright. Three days getting as much information out of Shelly as you could.
She figured out you weren’t the Grand Mistress before you got to the park. She put up a bit of a fight. Yet it was clear she had never been trained to fight in heels on uneven and soggy ground.
Neither were you but you at least had the sense to kick them off before slamming her head into a tree by her hair. It was raining at the time. You were both covered in mud by the time you knocked her out.
You were so filthy you looked like you were just born from the mud pit in Isengard the Uruk Hai were birthed from. The sight of you, and the sight of you dragging an unconscious blonde bimbo by the foot through the mud was enough to scare the absolute shit out of a group of teenagers. If you weren’t just completely done with the entire ordeal you probably would have laughed.
You didn’t, though. You were too exhausted to do anything other than drag her to the carousel and into the safehouse where you tied her up and shoved her in the first closet with a keypad on it.
Then you took a bath. Then you started a movie marathon. Mostly to keep your mind off of things. Like Bucky. You knew the tracker would lead them to you eventually. You just needed to wait and stay calm…and not think about Bucky.
“I was…I was so worried.” He said softly and you nodded even as you reached up to gently hold his head in your hands.
“I know. I was, too, but I’m alright. Are you alright?” you asked and Bucky nodded.
“Yeah. I’m alright. Now. I mean…I have a lot of questions about all of this, but I’m alright.” He replied and you smiled up at him, just happy he was there and alright and with you, letting him see that you were when he looked down at you.
At least until you heard the door open again and Steve walked in with Natasha. Then the walls went back up. You liked Steve; Natasha was effectively your best female friend, but you only ever let Bucky see straight in. That was his and as he smiled it was clear that he knew it was his and his alone.
“Which one is this?” Natasha asked as she gestured at the screen and Bucky looked at it as the opening credits started.
“The Return of Doctor X.” You answered, “Mister Mickey loaded this place with pretty much every classic movie from the 30s and 40s before he turned it over to me.”
“Your old boss?” Steve asked and you shook your head.
“Nah. His dad. He forbids me from calling him Mister O’Malley, so I call him Mister Mickey. I’m not arguing with a 100-year-old former mobster that still knows how to wire things.” You answered and he and Bucky looked at you, “What?”
“You worked for O’Malley?” Bucky asked and you nodded.
“I worked for his son. Mickey Junior. He’s retired now from that. He took over the florist shop Mister Mickey ran…even if Mister Mickey is still in there every single day yelling at him about how he’s not doing it right.” You answered and they looked at you, “What?”
“They’re both over 100. You argue with them.” Natasha pointed out curiously, and you shrugged.
“Well, yeah. They don’t count. Steve was a human Bomb Pop for like 60 years and Bucky was the human equivalent of a Freeze Pak. Put it in the freezer, take it out, have it make something cold, put it back in the freezer before it thaws too much. They don’t count as over 100.”
Steve just started laughing as he shook his head. From amusement or exasperation, you didn’t know. You were leaning towards amusement.
“A human Bomb Pop? Really?” he asked and Bucky looked at him.
“Well at least you’re edible.”
“I bite those things in half. You want me to bite you in half or would you rather be the thing I want up against my aching body parts?” You asked him and he nodded.
“You got a point.” He replied and they looked as Sam and Tony walked in, Tony whistling at the set up.
“I pay you too much.” He said and you looked at him.
“After what I went through and prevented for you I want a raise.” You retorted and he nodded.
“Deal…but I want to reoutfit this place so it’s…a bit more up to speed. What is this? A bomb shelter from the 50s?” he asked and you nodded.
“Yes. Cold war ended and they outfitted it into a safehouse and then they outfitted it into…a place to send their kids so they wouldn’t go into clubs to get in trouble or abducted. Only thing fully updated in here is the kitchen. Plumbing sucks. It could definitely use an upgrade, but this place is mine. I change that and you’ll have a centenarian ex-assassin that isn’t named Bucky Barnes sending you flowers with surprises. I’ve already had to talk him down from talking to Bucky.”
“He remembers me?” Bucky asked and you nodded with a little smile.
“Mhmm…I’ve heard aaaallll about you…and his sister…and her friends…and their friends…and their sisters…” you replied and he looked at you wide eyed opening his mouth to explain before shutting it and then opening it a few times, trying to think of what to say.
You let him sweat about it a bit.
“He also remembers Steve and still laughs anytime he sees a picture of him because he can’t stop thinking of him as ‘that scrawny punk that didn’t know when to just shut up’.” You said and patted his chest as Tony helped himself to the popcorn, “I assured him that you are a perfect gentleman and that you regularly help chase ungentlemanly men away from me so I don’t get in trouble for punching them. That soothed him enough to not want to ‘talk’ to you. I’m not sure if I’m disappointed about not getting to watch him threaten you or not.”
“Why’d you stop working for them?” Tony asked and you answered as he sat himself down in one of the chairs.
“Katherine got married and moved across the country shortly after the donut truck incident. I didn’t want to move to the land of Bigfoot so I chose to retire about the same time Junior did. I was a bridesmaid at her wedding where I ended up throwing her ex-best friend out of the reception and into the water hazard of the golf club it was at.
“I also broke her cheating ass ex-boyfriend’s fingers and kicked him in after her when he tried to ‘handle’ me. Then Mickey the third came out and sent me back in to calm Mister Mickey and Junior down. I’m sure you can imagine what they wanted to do to the two people that broke their princess’s heart to little shattered pieces before her new husband picked them up and glued them back together. I had to calm him down, too.
“When I tell you I understand how hard it was for Bucky to manage pre-buff Steve…he’s why. Billy is a scrawny twig man that will fight anything that upsets Katherine. Even if it can pummel him into the ground. The next day they gave me this place and a great severance package for my exemplary service.”
“You two…” Sam said and gestured to you and Bucky several times, “Belong together. You’re both crazy.”
“Yeah…but at least we aren’t boring.” You countered and grabbed some popcorn, “Now shut up, I wanna watch this.”
“Alright.” He said and as soon as everyone was sat down, you had a thought.
“What did you do with Shelly?”
“Nat put her back in the closet.” Tony answered and you nodded.
“What did you do to her?” Sam asked you and you looked at him slowly, silently, blinking blankly, “Or do I not want to know?”
“Did you see the haunted fun house on the way in?” You asked and he shook his head slowly, “Well…that’s what I did to her. I put her in there…and locked her in it for twelve hours. Not my fault she’s gullible. Besides. She ruined my favorite shirt. I’ll never get the mud out of it.”
“Shh. Movie.” Bucky said, pointing at the screen with a popcorn box in his hand.
“Fine.” Sam sighed and sat back with everyone to watch the screen.
Bucky’s left arm was around the back of your seat for a few minutes. Eventually it slid down to pull you against his side. You couldn’t help smiling as he did or at how the cool metal of his fingers felt gliding over your arm gently. It was just an absent reminder that he was there and that you were there with him. Silent comfort for you both.
About halfway through the movie he leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, just next to your ear before whispering into it, “You still owe me dessert, doll, but maybe I should take you out to dinner first so I don’t get sent flowers.”
==========
Master List: Scorpio AU
Previous Story: Coffee
Next Story: Flowers
A/N: Like I said at the start I'm working on something else. It's much larger and a lot different. It'll be in 3rd POV with a named OC. Something of a what if rewrite of Winter Soldier. As of posting this it's about 26k words in length, I still don't know where I'm stopping it, and I have plans of going back in and adding more while editing once the skeleton is done. I may post up the master list/summary/general gist of thing for it I may not.
Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I love the likes, I'd love to hear from you, too.
We weren’t blind. We weren’t stupid. We weren’t naive, personally I just liked how it feels. How it feels when we are in the same room and I know his eyes are on me. How it feels when any part of his body slightly touches mine, knowing it affects him too. How it feels when he smiles at me. How it feels knowing he does things to make me happy. How it feels when we suddenly lock eyes and the desire burning deep between us makes me struggle to breath.
“You don’t care?” I turn to my side to see Nat now sitting beside me. We were at one of Tony’s many parties and I indulged myself in 3 drinks already so I was pretty mellow. She hinted at what I was staring at before, as she takes a drink.
“I do.” It was plain and simple, of course I fucking do. I care. I care that two pretty girls are talking to him right now. I care that their pesky little fingers grip his arm and at one time caressed his hair. His brown, soft hair. That currently was decorated with a plastic tiara.
“You two are playing with each other's feelings and one is bound to get hurt.” I smile and place my hand over hers.
“You want to know why I am not pulling their eyeballs out of their sockets or cutting their hands off for touching him?” I wasn’t one to give into rage but I couldn’t help but think about it.
“Because you two aren’t officially together,” I roll my eyes with a smile. Yes, we were playing cat and mouse, in a loving way. A way that I don’t have to worry, and it goes both ways.
“First,” I lean forward, grabbing my drink. “I don’t do it because those girls are not at fault. Second, although their attention is on him,” I lift my finger up to her chin and turn her towards Bucky. “His, is on me.” All night, which wasn’t long since I arrived. “He is too nice to brush them off.”
“Nice is not the word I would use,” I held back a laugh seeing her annoyed demeanor. The extent of what she knows about Bucky and I is more than anyone in the world does. But she still thinks Bucky is being stupid and a horrible person for not admitting his feelings toward me. I tried to explain that it was all okay, but as a concerned friend, she still worries. “Don’t you want a stable relationship?” That question freezes me. My head turns over and finds Bucky's eyes. He slightly shakes his head in a “what?” movement and earns a smile from me. Bucky knows me, I trust him to not hurt me.
“No,” Nat was taken back. “I don’t know what you would say is a stable relationship, I don’t think any relationship can be stable.”
“A stable relationship does exist, it's one you and your partner work hard to keep.” I nod agreeing.
“Well,” I could see a slight smile on the corner of his lips. “I don’t doubt that when Bucky and I decide to have a relationship, it will be stable.” My smile doesn’t fade. My eyes don’t move, it stays glued to the man on the other side of the room.
“Have you two fucked yet?” Shit. I turn over with widened eyes. Where did that come from? “Because if you two haven’t, you are going to have a hell of a night when you do” We share a look and as I let out a laugh she follows too.
“You and your mood change,”
“I am your friend, I get to be curious.” I nod knowing she was right.
“Well that part is private until you start telling me about you and Bruce,” Her mouth falls open. “You can’t ask about who I have slept with until you give me details of your own love life”
“I-”
“Nuh-uh” I smile. “You have not let anything slip and you expect me to tell you who I have or haven’t slept with,” Her cheeks were burning red.
“Bruce and I are in a relationship,” She tries to make her point. “You are single and-and
That means you have a spicy love life so, yeah I want to know who you have slept with” I started laughing at her nonsense but soon my laugh was cut short.
“You got a boyfriend we don’t know about?” My heart starts to feel giddy. My hands are unable to move as it begins to hold my glass tighter. The easy and calm demeanor radiates from his body as he stands to the side but still behind me. One arm draped behind my chair as he leans forward to be leveled with my ear.
“Not officially,” My eyes narrow at Nat’s words, begging her to not continue. “But on what she has been telling me about him,” She was daring me with her eyes. “Chase seems like a charming guy.” She is dead. That devil grin, she replaces it soon with a smile. She gets up grabbing her drink and excusing herself. I almost forgot about Bucky as I begin to think of a revenge plan for Nat until I feel his warm breath on my neck.
“Chase?” He groans. His nose traveled teasingly along my neck and up to my jaw. My head automatically leans against his touch. “Doll?”
“Uh-huh?” I was already lost. I want him to give me more than just hoovering. I don’t care if it was in the middle of the party while everybody watched.
“Do I have to worry about this Chase guy?” I instantly shake my head. I smile feeling his hand snake over the curve of my exposed thigh. His big, rough, hand gently molding around me. This was new, and I wasn’t complaining. My shoulder leans over for support on his chest. “No?” Once again I shake my head in an instant. His lower hand gives my thigh a squeeze and as if it was a command, a moan slips out my lips. “Didn’t think so.” oh he is such a dick. Most of the time he was sweet, but this side? I loved this side of him too.
“Bucky?” I whined feeling his hand disappear. My eyes were shut and It opened to find him and he was still there, closer than ever. His missing hand found a place around my neck, forcing me to look up.
“It's fun to play this game with you,” My lips slightly open. His warm breath hovering over me as he speaks. The music was background noise to his voice. The people, long forgotten. “But I hate not being able to call you mine,” He took the air out of my lungs.
“Can you wait a little longer?” It was a plea, his eyes softened.
“Of course, Doll. I would wait eternity for you.”
A/N: I don't know what I wrote but I hope you like it.
There is going to be other parts were like this. They are friends, friends who flirt, from a time that they could handle it until they couldn't, they will eventually figure out that it's better to give it (it will be more fun).
Y/N was a sensation. Her voice, a haunting melody that echoed through the hearts of millions, had made her one of the most famous singers in the world. But beneath the glitz and glamour of the stage, Y/N led a life of solitude.
The tragic loss of both her parents at a young age had left her feeling adrift in a sea of fame. She was constantly surrounded by people, yet always felt alone. The only constant in her life was her bodyguard, Bucky Barnes.
Bucky had been by her side for years, a silent and watchful guardian. He had seen the toll that fame had taken on Y/N, the loneliness that lurked behind her eyes, and he had vowed to protect her at all costs.
