Based on The Falcon and the Winter Soldier
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Who would have thought that fate would bring you face to face with your father's killer? 13 years old, an orphan girl who was taken under the protection of the United States, who was educated to serve the nation and who was now assigned by the CIA to guard what was once one of the most dangerous men in the world.
Warnings: Mentions of murder, psychological problems, violence.
A/N: Post Endgame. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.
The city of sin is empty, and so are you. There is no one around you to judge you. The rhythm of their heartbeat seems to take over your body, it seems to lure you into the darkness, into which you have already entered. You have been alone for so long that you can barely remember when you felt a caress. The lights seem to blind you as they fall on your skin through the window panes, you can't see clearly where you're going, or what your next move is going to be, but there's something that grabs you, that compels you to kiss his skin. You look into his eyes, offering yourself, inviting him to love you. You look around you, drowning in the night, but there he is, the only person who can ignite you with a caress.
The Japanese restaurant across the street from your building was the place selected for the date that Bucky had worked so hard to set you up with, but after you saw him show up on your doorstep with the most charming bouquet of orange tulips you'd ever seen in your life you didn't care where he planned to take you. The place was quite popular in the neighbourhood, so that night most of the tables were packed with diners, a fact that seemed to make your companion uncomfortable as you walked into the establishment.
"Would you rather we went somewhere else?" you asked when you saw his gaze sweep over the place.
"No, it's fine," he stepped forward, heading to a free table that was quite far away from the others.
"You know, I don't remember ever having tasted Japanese food," you said, sitting down across from him. "I guess you'll have to walk me through this."
A complicity intensified as Bucky flashed a smile, lowering his gaze in response to the comment you had just made. Your eyes lit up, creating a visual conformity as he raised his countenance again and focused his eyes on you. It was at that precise moment that you discovered that beneath the blue mantle of his iris were small greyish flecks. You had arrived in this place almost three months ago, in this Brooklyn neighbourhood full of charming Asian culture, and you had never felt more at home than you did at that moment. You knew every detail of the life of the boy sitting in front of you, every detail that the government had wanted to give you, but you realised that you didn't really know anything about him at all.
It was a long two minutes in which you spent inspecting the person in front of you. He was wearing a black denim-style jacket, a black T-shirt that seemed to match the jeans you remembered he was wearing, and of course his black leather gloves, the ones you assumed he wouldn't take off all night. You rested your elbow on the table and dropped your chin into the palm of your hand without taking your eyes off his for a second. Bucky's jaw was slightly stiff, his lips were pursed waiting for you to say something and his expression was highlighted by a frown. You held it in for a few seconds until again your mouth curved up in a smile causing laughter to erupt from within you, causing a blush to rise up Bucky's cheeks.
"What's wrong?" he asked doubtful of the cause of your smirking laughter.
"Nothing," you said sincerely, shaking your face as your laughter died down and you took the menu of dishes in your hands. "What do you recommend?"
"I don't know," he said repeating your same gesture and hiding his face behind the paper.
"I thought you were a regular," you commented ignoring the variety of dishes and put the menu down so you could look at him again. "What about the nigiris?"
"The truth is that whenever I come here it's always Yori who decides what to eat," he commented pulling the paper away from his face leaving you to stare at his uneasy countenance again.
"Wow... do you think we should call him for dinner recommendations?" you whispered making Bucky blush again as he chuckled.
"I think we can manage," he commented looking back at the list of dishes.
But really your attempt to make a varied selection of Japanese cuisine was in vain when the young waitress approached you both and you decided on a random selection based on the most curious names you had found, so that after she left you were once again alone in front of each other. You noticed that in those long weeks that you had unexpectedly coincided Bucky had never made a comment about his past, it was obvious that he took it for granted that you knew who he was, everyone seemed to know who he was.
"Can I be frank with you?" you asked, playing with the small vase in the middle of the table.
"Please," he replied, giving way to your question.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but you seem nervous enough to have dated girls before, you know," you commented in a delicate tone avoiding scaring him away. "Is this your first date in... this long?"
Bucky's nostrils flared as he averted his gaze to the side and took a breath.
"Well... yeah, you could say that," he replied turning his focus back to you as his fingers played. "I've been trying... God, what's the name of the app?"
"Tinder?" you suggested arching an eyebrow.
"Yes, that," he nodded as his eyes widened in surprise. "It's crazy, that's not meant for me, it's like how am I going to find someone there? I don't know."
"I know," you laughed at his facial expression. "I tried it once, but I had a bad experience."
"What happened?" you inquired curiously as the waitress brought the first dishes to share along with the two beers you had ordered.
"I was supposed to meet a blond guy, curly hair, strong build, light eyes, about thirty or thirty-five, supposed to be British," you began as you took a sip of your beer. "All right, I was in the bar waiting for him to arrive, obviously we were meeting in a public place, we said to wear specific clothes so we could easily recognise each other, although I thought it was a bit absurd as I had seen pictures of him. By the time a completely different guy from the description I just gave you stood next to me, wearing a red tie and introducing himself as Matthew, I picked up and left."
"Are you sure that app is legal?" he asked when you finished telling the story.
"Sometimes I ask myself the same question too."
The atmosphere seemed to envelop you over the course of the dinner, Bucky tilting his face whenever you recounted any of your experiences, which were yours, not the character you had created to conduct your research. The comfort was so pleasant inside you that you even felt guilty on several occasions that he didn't know who you really were, a CIA agent sent to keep him under control. Even though it would have the worst consequences for you, for your career and you could never be willing to throw it all away, at least you had never been willing or thought about it until now. Although it had also been a long time since you'd felt like this.
"So...?" you arched your eyebrows with a lopsided smile, waiting for his honest answer.
"A hundred and six," he replied finishing his second beer.
"And I was complaining about the guy who showed me up on that Tinder date, because he was fifty-three," Bucky ducked his gaze somewhat nervously, as you shrugged. "You really are a fascinating guy, Bucky Barnes."
Those words were the most sincere thing you'd said since the night began, plus they brought with them a fresh batch of knowing glances between the two of you, where seconds ticked by, no one said anything and the din of laughter and surrounding conversations seemed to subside above you. You discovered that you weren't curious to find out if everything in those documents was true or not, if he really was the monster they were trying to make you believe. What really mattered to you and why you were curious about him, you wanted to find out for yourself who he really was, his experiences, his future plans, if he was lost, if he was afraid, you didn't want answers to the morbid questions they used to ask him, you wanted to know Bucky Barnes, not the Winter Soldier.
That was the first time you had ever been on a date, with all its letters, rarely had you reached dessert before you had slept with the guy in front of you, rarely had you felt so comfortable chatting with someone, rarely had you laughed so much and stayed until the place closed.
"You're in the 21st century, do you know that women can pay for dinner and we can buy if we want to?" you said approaching the bar and taking your wallet out of your purse.
"Please," he determined almost in a plea as he pulled his wallet out of the back pocket of his trousers.
"All right," you raised your arms, heading for the exit door. "I'll pay for the drinks.
As you stepped outside you could feel Bucky's eyes on you through the glass of the restaurant as he was waiting for the extra money/change. It was a pretty cold night in March, but no one really seemed to care because it seemed like everyone had gone outside to enjoy the Saturday night. You heard behind you the tinkling of a little bell and Bucky was perched next to you, putting his hands in his jacket pockets.
"Well, where..." you started to say before a voice cut you off.
A whistling sound coming from somewhere near you tried to get your attention, but it wasn't until you looked up that you saw a tiny face peering through a window on the first floor of your building.
"Hey!" you exclaimed, tapping Bucky's chest and pointing at Yori who was waving at you.
"Oh gosh..." commented Bucky raising his hand in greeting.
"How was the date?" your neighbour asked raising his tone so he could reach you.
"Great Yori!" you exclaimed trying to let him hear you from the first floor of your building. "Bucky is such a gentleman! They don't have men like that these days!"
You didn't see it, but your companion had no idea where to put himself at that moment, his hand on the back of his neck and his uncomfortable glances around as he blushed gave him away. You raised your arm to wave goodbye to Yori who was saying goodbye as he said something, but it barely reached your ears. Bucky simply nodded showing an awkward smile on his face.
"Come on," you laughed tugging on the lapel of Bucky's jacket causing him to start walking aimlessly.
"Where are we going?" he asked walking beside you.
"I don't know," you shrugged without stopping walking. "I'll remind you that I'm just a tourist, I've been in New York for three months and I've barely left the neighbourhood. But I think you know it a lot better than I do," you bumped his body with yours in a friendly way.
"I don't agree. You may be a tourist in New York, but I'm a tourist in the 21st century world," he commented, hitting you back with his elbow.
"In that case... let's discover New York together," you smiled, and he smiled back, letting you know that he was enjoying the evening as much as you were.
"There," your companion raised his chin, gesturing slightly towards the narrow building looming above you.
"There?" you asked, arching your eyebrows in surprise at what he was telling you.
"Fourth floor," he continued speaking without looking at you, resting his eyes on the place he was describing. "It was a tiny flat, I could get from the kitchen to the bedroom by just jumping up and down. If I opened the window at night, the smell of mozzarella from Nicollini's came in. It was an Italian restaurant," he paused thoughtfully, perhaps wistfully. "Wow... I didn't come here until now."
You stood parallel to Bucky, his eyes seemed to appear brighter than usual, the light from the streetlight allowing you to take in every feature of his face. You were silent for a couple of minutes while he seemed to be distant from the place, obscured in his thoughts, in his past. The time you had spent with him had not allowed you to see him like this at any time, he used to keep his emotions very much in check, not allowing anyone to glimpse them, only letting you see the shame or confusion when he spoke to you.
"So... when was the last time you were here?" your volume was soft, trying not to interrupt him too much, but upon hearing your voice, he fell into your presence and began to pace.
"Maybe... in 1943, just before I left for Europe," he cleared his throat, undoing the knot that had formed in his throat.
It was in that precious moment that you realised how hard and complex his situation must really be. Bucky Barnes was all alone in the world, all his knowledge of his old present was of little use to him now, it might be the city where he grew up but nothing was the same anymore. He also had to live with his legacy, the legacy HYDRA left him. Silence flooded around you, however, it was not a complicit silence, it was an uncomfortable silence, caused by the situation you had just lived.
"My father died when I was thirteen," you didn't know why, but that confession came from inside you, Bucky turned his face and focused his attention on you. "My mother had abandoned us when I was five, so when my father died I was all alone."
"I'm sorry," Bucky whispered making you realise he was really sorry when you looked at his face.
"It happens," you shrugged. "I guess that makes us feel luckier when we find someone we connect with."
That was the first time you looked away blushing as you met Bucky's smile, but he kept his eyes fixed on you. The two of you had made your way to an aimless spot, letting the night fall on you by the riverbank.
"Answer me something, when was the last time you enjoyed the New York night?" you said looking at him, as behind him you could see a wonderful view of the island of Manhattan.
"New York night..." he said looking down thoughtfully. "Well, I remember the last night I spent in New York, my best friend Steve and I went to see The Stark exhibit along with two girls," he turned his gaze to the horizon, "Connie and Bonnie, I think their names were."
"Your girlfriends?" you asked curiously delving into the story.
"Not exactly," he laughed looking at you, "it was like a double date, but they weren't our partners. Those times were more complicated, you know," you nodded and waited silently for him to continue the story. "I had planned for the four of us to go dancing, but Steve was not very receptive, he had other things on his mind, so I ended up going dancing with the two of them by myself.
"Wow, what do you know..." you arched an eyebrow causing Bucky to blush with laughter, gazing at the lights coming from Manhattan. "That means you're quite the expert dancer."
"Not exactly, I mean, maybe in... in the past, it's possible, but..." he didn't know how to express himself, his words were hindering him.
"Show me," you interrupted taking him by surprise.
"Uh?" he asked stopping his steps and frowning.
"Come on, it's time for me to be the one to get out of your time. I have no idea how to dance..." you pointed out, making him understand that you didn't know how to dance in a couple. "Please."
Your companion took a breath as you presented him with the palm of your hand inviting him to take it right in the middle of a small riverside park. Bucky was hesitant but your lower lip bitten by your teeth and your pleading eyes made him definitely decide to hold your hand and accept the challenge. The triumph was depicted on your face, which made it easy for Bucky to oblige by flashing you a smile.
"You're really testing me tonight," he murmured, slowly approaching you.
You first felt the roughness of his leather gloves as his left hand took yours to mark a closer position. Your bodies were close, too close, you could hear his raised breathing and see the mist of your breath connecting. Bucky gently placed his hand on your waist, but nothing else happened, you looked at each other, with a very uncomfortable smile.
"This is weird," he muttered, wrinkling the expression on his face.
"Why?" you looked around you, it was lonely. "There's no one."
"I know," he looked up. "There's no one, there's no music."
"Sing," you said quickly with a laugh, making Bucky laugh too as he shook his head. "I would, but I don't know any songs of the time."
"I don't plan to sing," he decreed without barely moving an inch away from you.
"Then use your imagination," you whispered lowering your gaze for a second, meeting his neck at eye level.
As if time had rushed backwards you were caught in a completely different place, the yellowish light of the street lamps above you and behind you a Manhattan skyline set the perfect mood for the moment. The hand that was perched on your waist began to subtly exert pressure, guiding you to imitate the movement of his feet that he had begun. Embarrassed by your clumsiness you quickly lowered your gaze to his feet to try to imitate what he was doing more accurately.
"Look at me, don't look at my feet," he sentenced with a small laugh. "Look at my eyes."
And you did, so much so that you did, letting yourself be enveloped by their blue, making you blush because of the proximity to them. It was strange, perhaps it was much stranger to you than it was to him, as you bit your lower lip hard trying to escape the awkwardness and embarrassment. How could a moment that could look completely ridiculous from the outside feel so intimate on the inside?
"When was the last time you danced with a girl?" you whispered, trying to keep the situation not too intimate.
"I think it was in London," he replied without stopping his movements. "When I was on leave."
But as he finished his answer you again found yourself under those piercing blue eyes trying to maintain eye contact with you. Again you caught your lower lip between your teeth, thinking of a new question to ask him. Bucky had taken control of the situation, something you weren't used to, and that made you feel alert, he knew it, for the first time he seemed to be in control of the situation, and that was your fault, you had given it to him when you said to teach you to dance.
"Are you alright?" he whispered in front of you with a half smile to which you nodded forcing a smile.
Just as you finished your nod you felt Bucky press harder against your waist and pressed his body against yours leaving your forehead pressed against his cheek. His scent wafted into your nostrils, drifting into your brain, projecting a pleasure that made you close your eyes and let yourself be completely carried away. You accepted that you wouldn't last an hour in the 40s in a dance hall, the second you'd fall at the feet of any young man like Bucky. You didn't know if it was your imagination, because right now you had entered an alternate universe, or if Bucky was humming some tune, but you heard it, you heard how your subtle movements had music.
"And..." you parted your lips, pulling your forehead away from his cheek, trying to formulate a question that didn't come because you felt the melody stop, realising that it was Bucky who was asking it.
His face with a sweet smile on it paralysed you, making you come out of the bubble that had been created around you, feeling guilty for the situation that you yourself had provoked. What the hell were you doing? He was your mission, everything was getting out of context, it had gotten completely out of hand and you needed to stop it as soon as possible. You shook your face, trying not to be too rude to him, and you broke the proximity between the two of you. Bucky didn't understand what had happened, because within a second the happiness was wiped from his face, showing some concern for your actions.
"I'm sorry," he said, raising his hands subtly by way of caution. "If I've done anything inappropriate..."
"No!" you exclaimed shaking your head smiling at his apology. "It's just... I think we should get back, we still have a long way to go and I wanted to get up early tomorrow."
"Of course," the disappointment you saw on Bucky's face almost broke your soul.
The walk home was too stealthy, and that made you uneasy. You couldn't stop replaying over and over the moment in your mind, the feel of his hand on your waist, the proximity to his body, your scent, and the warmth of your forehead against his cheek. It was torture, because on the other hand you felt extremely guilty for violating all the clauses of your job by entering into this kind of relationship with Bucky. It was suffocating, you felt almost breathless inside. Firstly, you should have started by refusing the proposal to go out for dinner, and secondly, if you did go out for dinner, you should have gone straight home, no dancing and no further conversation. In the midst of all these thoughts, you arrived home.
"Please," he said, offering you first the way into the building.
"Thank you," you mumbled without looking at him.
The walk to the third floor began, you had never realised that there were so many steps and so steep until you reached the door of your house, it seemed like a climb up Mount Everest and the worst thing was that Bucky lived right in front of you, on the same landing. You amused yourself rummaging through your purse for your house keys, avoiding having a conversation until you arrived right in front of the door.
"Well..." you started to say by way of an awkward goodbye.
"Again, if I've done anything to upset you..." Bucky repeated again with a gesture of concern.
"Really, Bucky, it's been... great," you concluded, smiling kindly at him. "I promise."
"All right," he ducked his face, not entirely convinced by your answer. "So, good night Susan."
Susan? Of course, that was you to him, all a lie.
