connection, reconnection, and a small miscommunication. Bucky will travel however far if it means making you smile
wordcount: 4k
a/n: This was originally written AGES ago (2021) for @wkemeup ‘s 9k writing prompts. I had a different blog and posted one or two fics then ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE WHOLE BLOG. oops 🤷. remade this one and now im back into writing a bunch again so figured i might as well respost it. i had some other bucky fics i never finished writing so who knowsss i might go back and finish them :p
based on the prompt:
Character A calls Character B in the middle of the night crying - something they’ve never done before. They’re several states away. [B] gets in the car without hesitation and drives to wherever they are.
Bucky found himself on the balcony, looking out into the busy New York nightlife. Cars driving through the busy streets. He felt it matched the energy inside the Tower. If he looked behind he would have found Tony chatting away, creating a spectacle and being the center of attention as usual. Sam was playing pool against Scott. Accusing him of cheating by using ants to move the balls around when he wasn’t looking. Steve and Natasha were in the corner chatting away about the last mission. Steve was always a little too focused on work, even when these get-togethers were planned to distract the team from just that.
It was why Bucky needed a break, that's what he would say at least. The reason for this whole party, as much as he hated the whole spectacle. A break from the team. A break from missions. He just needed an out, for now.
It’s at least what he was telling himself.
“Hey Stranger. Found your hiding spot.” He glanced behind and saw you there. Relaxed and leaning against the doorway, a half empty drink in your hand. Smiling like there wasn’t a reason for you to be sad. He smiled back for a second, like he was still going to be here tomorrow.
He would miss you the most.
______
You hadn’t called yet.
He wasn’t too worried at first, the last he heard from you, you had said Steve was planning a mission and you probably would be gone for a while. You didn’t specify what kind of mission. You never did. He hated that.
In all honesty taking this break, full on Move-Into-a-subburb-in-Indiana kinda break, was killing him. It was one of those things he thought he would be fine with. The neighbors were nice. A sweet old lady who was always baking and bringing him cookies and pies. The other was your typical nuclear family. Maybe that was something Bucky would have wanted back in the 40s. Now he’s not so sure.
Bucky’s so called retirement wasn’t that exactly. He wasn’t off the team. It was a break. A long break. A break for some undetermined amount of time, but had currently lasted for almost six months. Time away from the hustle and bustle of city life. Of Avenger life. Steve had suggested it after Bucky had one too many sleepless nights. Giving him time to try and live a life not fighting for something. Somewhere peaceful. He would’ve considered it sooner, if it weren’t for you.
He didn’t know how it had started. The friendship between the two of you. He knows you were the one to first initiate the conversation. It had taken him a while to warm up to you. He’s almost mad at himself that he didn’t keep track of all your interactions. Everytime he heard you laugh. Everytime you sat next to him during a movie night. When Your friendship started bleeding into something else. He felt like the two of you skipped a step somewhere. A line between friends and… something else, something better, started to blur.
You would slip into his room at night right before the nightmares could start. Running your hands through his hair as you softly sung lullabies and old songs. You spent the night more often than not. Fast asleep with your arms wrapped around him. His head delicately tucked into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped around your waist. You both waking up in each other's arms, tangled together in a peaceful bliss.
He knows what ended it. It was his fault. He pushed away.
But Damnit, Bucky did miss you.
At least you called every once in a while. Giving him updates about everything going on at the tower. It was like clockwork, almost. A call springing up at the end of almost every week, updating him on every little detail of Steve's extremely long Disney Movie Marathon. Last update you gave was he just finished the Renaissance era. Swearing on your life that you managed to catch him singing along to The Little Mermaid.
Another time you called just to complain about how bad your sparring session with Nat was.
“I swear someone must’ve pissed her off before it because now I have a stupid bruise on my back and it just hurts all over” you groaned over the phone. he could imagine you lying on the floor in your room. Blankets thrown about and laptop angled so you could still watch Netflix. The thought made him laugh which caused you to respond “Don’t laugh at my misery!”
If it wasn’t a call, you would text, but that was rare. You had confessed early on that you hated texting, but you couldn’t help but send him pictures and videos of the group hanging out. You, Wanda, and Natasha in the lounge watching horror movies. Sneaky photos of Steve asleep in the common area. His favorite had to be when you send a video of Sam spacing out and crashing into a window while flying. He sent back laughing emojis and saved the video.
He never said much about his time away. He got a cat. A little white furball he named Alpine. He sent you a handful of pictures that you absolutely adored.
He would say that the time away has been helping. Less chaos, more calm. He always tried to make it sound like he was enjoying his time away. The neighbors were nice. The place was quiet. He was getting sleep. Enjoying his break.
He was starting to miss the chaos. He was missing you.
He always looked forward to your calls, even though they always seemed to interrupt him meditating, like today. It had been over a month since your last call.
You had changed your ringtone to some upbeat song he honestly couldn’t stand at first but grew on him over time. It couldn’t even finish its first verse before he picked up the phone and spoke with a smile on his face.
“Hey, Y/N. You back from your mission?” He only heard silence back at first, and it scared him. “Doll, are you there?” More silence before he could barely pick up the faint sniffling. “Y/N, are you okay?”
More silence. More sniffling. He was getting ready to call Steve or text him or Something before he heard your voice speak up. A fragile, tear-filled response. It broke his heart.
“I’m Sorry Bucky. I shouldn’t have called.”
Then the line goes dead.
______
“You should go back inside y/n. Go enjoy the party.”
“What's the point of it if the person it's for isn’t even there?” you walk over and lean against the railing so your back is to the view. You stared at the inside for a second before looking at him again. “Excited for retirement?” He rolled his eyes at your half assed joke.
“Its not retirement. Its just, a break.” That made you laugh a little. Your nose scrunched up the tiniest amount and is made Bucky smile. He would miss your laugh.
“It feels like retirement, you bought a house and everything. In Indiana right?”
“Yeah.”
“Kinda far from the tower, don’t you think?” you finished up what was left in your glass and set it on the small standing table to the side of you before focusing your attention back to him.
“That was kind of the point. Somewhere quiet, or well, quieter than here.” He gestured to the city, but part of you felt he meant the team.
______
He doesn’t care that the drive is eleven hours. He doesn’t care that he had to stick his now grumpy cat in a carrier and put her in the front seat. Be doesn’t care that he’s rushed out of his house at three in the afternoon with nothing but the desire to check on you.
He does care that you haven’t answered or returned any of his calls yet and Bucky swears on his life he is going to murder Steve if he doesn’t pick up either. He hears it ring three times before he answers.
“Hey, Buck. Whats up?” Steve says into the phone nonchalantly. It's starting to piss him off.
“What happened Steve.” His voice was cold and his grip on the steering wheel tightened with each second. What happened, what happened.
“Wait what do you mean.”
“Y/N Steve! What happened to her on her mission.” his voice cracked a bit as he tried to keep it together. Something was wrong and he didn’t know what.
“Y/n’s mission? It went fine she got back a while ago and… wait did she call you?” He seemed surprised.
“Yes! Y/N was crying and she just hung up suddenly and…what happened Steve.”
“Nothing. She’s been fine this whole time. It happened a while ago so I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Wait how long has she been back from her mission.”
“Two weeks.”
“Well how was I supposed to know that!” He was getting antsy, wishing this car of his would go any faster.
“I assumed she had already called you. She usually did after every mission but… I’ll go check up on her for you if you want. Let her know you called.”
“I’m already on my way over. Just let me know if she does anything else.”
______
He doesn’t remember how long he stayed out there talking to you. It was more you talking to him. How training went that day, A new movie that had come out that week, Peter coming to you for advice on asking someone out. A dream you had.
He couldn’t help but glance at your arm as you talked. Covered with long sleeves but he knew the scar was still there. Long and jagged, running from your forearm to your wrist. Slowly fading but still ever present. He felt your hand lift his chin up to meet your eyes again.
“Don’t even think of feeling guilty right now.” You teased, but your face showed nothing but sincerity. He gripped the railing tightly and it looked like he wanted to say something, but the words weren’t coming out.
He couldn’t. Not that.
“Do you remember the first time you stayed the night?” You took your hand away and watched him stare off into the distance. “ I felt trapped in my own head, in my memories. I wasn't leaving my room.”
“We share a wall. I could always hear when your nightmares got bad, but Steve was always there for you. But he was gone one day and I… I couldn’t just leave you to deal with that on your own.” Your voice turned to a whisper. Reminiscing on what you two once had. The quiet moments together. Why he stopped them, you only somewhat understood.
______
An hour felt like ten, and the full drive felt like an eternity later. When he reached the tower the sky was now dark, but he didn’t care. It had been far too long since he had been back.
He had Steve talk him through what could have happened.
“It must have been something that happened on her mission, but I can’t pick out anything weird, besides the fact that she insisted on taking this one alone.”
It was a stakeout. Suspicions of an arms deal going on. The plan was for you to just find out who was involved. Collect any information you can. You always sounded bored whenever you talked about it and gave Steve updates.
“Wait, why did she insist on going alone. Those take forever and I doubt she got a reasonable amount of sleep if she was by herself.” Bucky at this point was thinking the worst.
“Nothing happened Buck. She gave updates the whole time. I gave her permission to call you, but from the sound of it she never did.” A realization hit him then and there. The first mission he went on with you alone was a stakeout.
He doesn’t remember what the mission was about. All he remembers is two weeks alone with you. The two of you in a hotel room, spying on… he isn’t even sure anymore. All he took away from that time is he was absolutely in love with you. The way you would talk about Wanda’s crush on Vision at the time and how you kept bugging her to say something. Everytime you tried (and failed) to throw popcorn into your mouth.
By the time Bucky arrives at the tower it's almost three in the morning. Alpine sleeping soundly in the passenger seat. Steve is waiting for him in the parking garage. A concerned look on his face.
“She’s locked herself in her room. She won’t talk to me.” Bucky moves Alpine from the carrier to his jacket, and walks with Steve to the elevators to get to the living quarters.
“Is she even still awake? I got here pretty late.” He glanced at the pajama bottoms Steve was wearing.
“Last time I passed by I heard a show playing, she still might have fallen asleep though. Your room is empty if you wanna get some rest.”
“No.” the Elevator opens up to the all too familiar hallway that now you currently reside in. “I wanna see her now, if I can.” if she lets me. Steve simply pats him on the back.
“You planning on staying a while?”
“I guess we’ll see..” The doors close leaving Bucky alone in the dark hallway. He feels stuck in place. It has been so long since he’d seen the tower. He’d forgotten how much he’d miss this place.
He hesitated knocking on your door. The familiar notch in the wood from when you tried to fire one of Clint's bows. He could hear what sounded like a nature documentary softly playing from the other side of the door.
“Friday?” He whispered.
“Welcome back Sergeant Barnes.” The AI called out.
“Is she awake?”
“Agent Y/N is awake at the moment. Would you like me to let her know you’re here?”
“No, no its alright.” Bucky responded. “I can talk to her.”
He continued to just stare at the door, unsure how to start. He looked down to Alpine who simply meowed at him. Her way of saying to ‘get on with it, I’m tired!’
“Alright, alright.” He nervously chuckled before lifting his right hand up. Three delicate knocks rang through the door.
“I’m fine Steve.” He heard your voice for the first time in person again. Muffled and clearly annoyed, but still perfectly you.
“ Y/n? It's Bucky. Can you please open the door.” The documentary paused. He heard the slight squeaking of a bed and footsteps padding over to the door, till he heard your voice loud and clear.
“What are you doing here, shouldn’t you be in Indiana.” He was surprised by the coldness in your voice.
“What’s going on with you. You called and I got worried. Can you please open the door?” He pressed his forehead against the door, trying to get as close to you as possible.
“I never meant to bother you. Please, Bucky, just go home.” There was pain in your voice and your words. Calling somewhere that wasn’t here his home.
“I’m not leaving till you explain what’s going on. What happened that made you call.”
“...I needed to stop relying on you to fix my problems.” You sighed. Maybe you could tell he wouldn’t leave you alone with just that. “It was a nightmare, okay? That’s all. I can deal with those on my own now.”
“ Please let me in. You know I can help with those.” He whispered through the door. He didn’t know you even got nightmares. “How long have they been happening?”
“Why does it matter to you.” You spat. “I’m not letting you in so you can just… go home”
hesitation…. Bucky thought for a moment.
“I have Alpine. You said you wanted to meet her.”
A moment of silence, and then he hears the lock click open.
______
“I’ll miss you. You know that right?”
You stared at the night sky and he couldn’t help but notice how the lights danced in your eyes.
“You can always call.” he replied.
“Do you know… when you’ll come back?” the hesitation in your voice made him suspect you were going to say “if”. The fear he may never come back.
“I’ll be back, doll. If you ever need me just call and I’ll come running.” The idea got both of you to smile.
“I’d never have you do that for me, but I appreciate the thought.” You laughed before turning your head and staring straight into his eyes. “Just promise me. You’ll come back.”
“I promise.”
Both of your feet took control and suddenly you were now facing each other. In both of your eyes you could see a million words trying to escape. Each of you wanting to say something you didn’t think the other would want.
Stay here
Tell me to Stay
Let me spend one last night with you
Please don’t leave me alone
I love you
I love you
Just let me love you
It felt like you were inches apart. Miles away from the rest of the world. Your hand rose to rest softly on his cheek. He leaned into your touch and closed his eyes. The pad of your thumb gliding across his cheek, the scratchy stubble, till it rested right under his bottom lip. His hands resisted the urge to touch you, the fear of somehow hurting you again, but your touch he relished in. He savoured this moment between the two of you, almost too hesitant to take it any further. Those million words slowly bubbling up to the surface. Falling from his eyes to the tip of his tongue. They tasted like salt. You raised your hand up to swipe something from his face.
Tears. No words. Just tears.
You could taste your own words as well.
“Hey Ms. Y/N - oh Sorry!” The sheepish voice that belonged to Peter spoke out and caused the two of you to draw away from each other. The timeless moment broken. Words gone. Words buried once again. You could tell he felt bad for interrupting what seemed to be a private moment between the two of you.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“No, it's fine. You didn’t interrupt anything. Did you need something kiddo?” You wiped your eyes and tried to look cheerful. Bucky never understood why you had such a soft spot for peter. He talked too much for his liking.
“Tony said you were out here and… He needed to talk to you about something I didn’t really ask uh.” Peter kept glancing at the now brooding man next to you. “happy retirement Mr. Bucky, Sergeant Barnes sir.”
“It's just Bucky,” He grumbled, “And it's not a retirement. It's just… Tony just started calling it that because i'm old.” You noticed the stiffness in his voice so you decided to break the tension.
“Tell Tony I’ll be inside in a second, okay Peter?” He nervously nodded and shuffled back inside. You turned back to face Bucky. He looked down and away from you now.
Miles apart.
“Gotta go back inside, I guess. Don’t stay out too long okay?”
In a brief second of courage you lifted your hand back to his face, and turned to place a quick kiss on his cheek before walking away and leaving him alone again on the balcony. The feeling of your lips lingered on his skin.
You didn’t see him when he left the next morning.
______
You looked just as beautiful as he remembered. Unbrushed hair and wrinkly t-shirt thrown together with an old pair of sweats. He wanted to wrap himself up in your touch, in your scent, but your eyes gave off a tired and standoffish look. Eyebrows scrunched together. This wasn’t the time, yet.
“Where is she.” You asked. Bucky unzipped his jacket slightly and peeled away one side to reveal a little puff of fur. The door opened wider and you stepped aside to let him in. He took a seat on your bed and let Alpine out to walk around. You sat down and alpine walked over and rubbed her face on your hand.
“Cute..”
“Yeah, she is. There's no cat food in the tower, right? I left in a rush and-”
“Bucky.” you raised a brow at him.
“Right, sorry.” He studied your expression, waiting for you to start.
“Can I ask you something, Bucky?”
“Anything.”
“Am I the reason you left?” Your question left him bewildered.
“Where’d you get that idea?”
“It's just,” you started, “we were so close, and I know I pushed your boundaries a little more than the others, but you seemed okay with it. You even pushed things further so I thought we were on the same page. But after-” you turn your arm to show what's now only a faint line running down your arm, “ -this I, I don’t know. You didn’t just step back, you pushed away. You didn’t even look at me for weeks and then suddenly you say that you're leaving and I-”
Tears spring from your eyes. The million words too much. Bucky grabs your hands and uses his thumbs to rub small circles into your wrists.
The night was one clearly neither of you had forgotten. You had just come back from a mission with Steve and went to Bucky’s room to surprise him, only to find he was having another nightmare. You attempted to wake him up, were met with a sharp pain in your arm. The both of you were too stunned by each other's actions to immediately notice the knife in Bucky’s hand and the stream of blood gushing down your arm and staining his sheets.
You never held it against him, but he clearly did.
“It was a rash decision.” He says, “ I care about you so much, you know that… or I hope you do, but after,” he felt his million words bubbling to the surface again, “After I hurt you, I got scared. I was afraid of making things worse and I didn’t even realize I already had. I left to try and figure myself out. After the first week I knew it wasn’t my thing. I was honestly gonna come right back, but you sounded so happy when you called and, I started to think you’d be better off without me.” His voice grew softer with every word.
“What about your neighbors, meditation. You said you were getting better sleep.”
“Mostly lies. The Nightmares just have become more manageable with time, and I don’t need to leave just to sit on the floor in silence. The only good thing to come from this is Alpine.” he admitted and you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.
“At the party, before you left. You said to ask and you’d come back. There were so many times I thought about it, but you’d talk about how much better you were doing-”
“All lies, doll. Sorry.”
“ - I thought you were better off without me.” he tugs you forward and you let yourself fall into his embrace. You feel each other relax in each other's touch. He rested his chin on the top of your head for a second before placing a kiss on your forehead.
“I’m so sorry I made you feel this way.” You feel his lips move against your skin. “But I’m not leaving you again. Not ever.” You pulled away just to see his face.
“You’re not going back?” He tucked his head into your hair to muffle his laugh.
“Indiana sucks, I’m here to stay, promise. Besides, you said you had nightmares, right. I’m not just gonna leave you to deal with that on your own.”
He leaned over to kiss your tears away causing you to laugh at the feeling. You lifted your head to meet his lips with your own, and for a second the two of you forget the rest of the world exists. You can taste salt from each other’s tears and he feels himself smiling into the kiss, hands going up to cradle your face when suddenly you both hear a Meow.
Pulling away the two of you watch Alpine nudge your thigh as if to say ‘It's my turn for attention!’ The two of you smiling and crying and holding in a fit of giggles as your stare at the little puff of fur meowing at you and clawing at the sheets.
As the laughter and meowing died down, so did your energy, and the two of you settled into bed. It was almost as it was before. His arms wrapped around you. your head delicately tucked into the crook of his neck, arms wrapped around his waist. A small fur ball settled at the foot of the bed. With the promise of a million more words, and a million more nights together.
His heart dropped clear through his stomach when he saw her. Strapped to a chair in the far corner of the room that hadn’t quite been visible from his spot on the wall, head lolling to the side, a small pool of blood forming at her feet. Bloodied wrists and ankles held fast with shackles to the arms and legs of the chair. Her face so ghostly pale it was almost translucent.
Warnings: 18+, graphic descriptions of violence and torture (like seriously, very graphic stuff), whump, language, angst, sexual innuendo, playing around a bit with the mechanics of Bucky’s arm (is that worth a warning?), my limited medical knowledge, fluff
Minors--this is not for you. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Please be discerning. Do not interact.
Prompt: I chose this prompt from @wkemeup ‘s #kas9kwc 9K Celebration. Angst #1 - Character A cleans Character B’s wounds after a rough mission. [A]’s fingers linger over scarred muscle as they finish wrapping the bandage.
A/N: A little bit later than I’d hoped, but here it is! This is the first fic I’ve shared, on this platform or otherwise. Hope y’all enjoy! Feedback is welcome and appreciated. Special thanks to @wkemeup for providing the occasion, and to @wkemeup-fics / @tuiccim / @revengingbarnes / @mareli-carter / @gogolucky13 / @buckysbabygorl / @constantwriter85 (in no particular order) for inspiring me to take the leap.
Edit: This reader is white-coded in both this piece and it's sequel, in that she blushes pink or red when flustered or embarrassed. This trait is mentioned multiple times by both the reader and other characters. This was an oversight on my part when writing, and I've done my best to ensure that all fics written since have avoided traits like this.
“How much longer?”
You huffed a bit, fingers tapping intermittently over the keys of the computer in front of you. You bit back a couple of choice words as you addressed the impatient super soldier standing watch behind you.
“Buck, do you have any idea how many layers of programming I’m working through right now?”
“No,” he challenged, which was true.
“Well, grandpa. Let’s just say this amounts to Olympic levels of badassery.”
“Fuck you,” Bucky muttered, bristling at the nickname.
“Fuck me, yourself,” you whispered under your breath.
You heard the super soldier choke behind you.
Fuck. You’d forgotten about that pesky enhanced hearing. You resisted the urge to turn and see his full reaction, knowing that the flush that had painted its way across your cheeks would quickly betray how little you were joking.
.....
“I thought you were coming with me.” You grimaced at how whiny you sounded, but if Steve noticed he didn’t react.
“Look, Y/N, I’m sorry. I was. But now they need me to deal with some political garbage. PR shit. And while Buck and I can fill the same role on pretty much any combat op, public relations is not where he should be.”
You winced. If Steve was cursing, even a little bit, you knew he was stressed, and you were adding to it. He had never signed up to be the mediator between a ragtag crew of oddities in spandex and the cold, dark suits of federal government. And he was right. The Star-Spangled Man with a plan held a hell of a lot more favor than a certain rehabilitated ex-Hydra asset. Still...
“Isn’t there anyone else?”
“Sam just got back yesterday. He’s beat. Really, Y/N, Buck is the best one for this. We need to keep this small. Under the radar. In and out. You know he can do exactly that.”
You sighed. Yes, you did know that. You knew all too well how capable Bucky Barnes was. He was the perfect one for this op. This very small op, where the two of you would be alone. Together.
“And you really need me for this? I’m not the only one who can handle tech. Nat can...” You trailed off as you saw Steve getting more frustrated, his jaw clenching and his piercing blue eyes hardening. He started to say something, when Nat spoke up from the corner of the room. The redhead was perched on a desk, legs crossed and a smile tugging at her lips.
“First of all, you are the only one who can handle this tech. Yes, I can get through firewalls and encryptions, but I can’t reprogram all of that. Second--” she shrugged up her left shoulder, which was still in a sling from her last mission-- “this is a low-profile op, but there will definitely be combat. And I’m not a whole lot of use with this thing.”
You doubted that very much. Natasha could probably take down a whole squadron with both hands tied behind her back, all without smudging her lipstick. But, she did have a point.
“But--”
“Y/N,” Steve said sharply, his voice low. “What the hell is the problem? This is a simple two-person op. A once-in-a-blue-moon opportunity to corrupt a massive stock of Hydra weaponry and save ourselves a lot of trouble in the long run. It’s an easy pick. You and Buck.” He rose from his seat across from you, fingers carding through his hair, voice rising with every word. “I know Bucky has a rough past, but I never thought that you of all people would hold that against him. You never seem to have a problem with him around here!”
“I don’t, it’s just--”
“If you can trust me, take my word that you can trust him--”
“I do! I trust you both. I just can’t--”
“Can’t what? This is such an obvious choice. Why can’t you just--”
“You like him.” Your head whipped to the source of this last quip. Natasha had risen from her perch, arms crossed, a smirk splayed across her face.
“What?” you choked, pink flushing across your cheeks. “No, I--I don’t know what you’re--butt the fuck out, Nat!”
Steve’s gaze darted back and forth between the grinning redhead and you, as you sunk further into your chair. The room was silent for a moment, until he planted both hands on the table between you, his stare boring into you.
“You like Bucky?”
Arms crossed protectively in front of you, you didn’t dare look at him as you stammered out a “N--no, I don’t.”
Steve snorted, and you glanced up to see his face break into a shit-eating grin.
“Well, damn, Y/N. For a super spy, you’re a terrible liar.” Except you weren’t. Unless a certain super soldier with a metal arm was involved. Then, much like now, your mind turned to mush and your face betrayed you, unable to hide the pinks and reds painting your cheeks.
“I just don’t think we’re the right fit for this,” was all you could manage.
Nat chuckled. “On the contrary, I think this is a wonderful opportunity for you two to get comfortable working together. High stakes, but probably low engagement. You have to learn sometime, don’t you?”
You looked to Steve, pleading with him to understand, and were instead met with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. He winked at you, and you groaned.
“Besides,” Nat continued, “we set up a brand new safe house for you two to hole up in for extraction after you’re done. You guys will get the chance to christen it properly.”
Steve cackled at this, and you considered crawling under the table, the flush on your cheeks deepening to a fire-engine red and creeping across your ears.
.....
That same reddish tint had once again taken up residence along the tops of your ears as you sat at the keyboard in the Hydra compound, thoughts far from the task at hand, instead picking apart every minute detail of that mortifying interaction.
We’re friends. Friends banter. He knows that. Does he know that? He should know that. He was just surprised. It didn’t mean anyth--
Y/N. The more responsible part of your brain cut in. You are destroying Hydra weaponry while seated precariously inside one of their bases, in a room with three different entrances that could each welcome in hostiles at any given moment. You have your life, Bucky’s life, and the lives of thousands of potential victims of Hydra quite literally clutched in your fingertips. For the love of all that is holy, get your fucking head out of your ass.
Still, you couldn’t help but shoot a glance over your shoulder at the soldier posted behind you. He had his back to you, head on a swivel between the three doors. You couldn’t see his face, but his shoulders had tensed up closer to his ears, and he fiddled absentmindedly with the plates on his metal forearm.
Shit. You had made him uncomfortable. You mentally cursed Steve and Nat for putting you here, all the while knowing it wasn’t really their fault. You weren’t ever going to make a move anyways, so you might as well seal your fate here. Scare him off entirely, and move on with your life.
Fingers flew across the keyboard again. You needed to do at least one thing right today.
.....
Bucky couldn’t help but fidget as he stood with his back to Y/N, eyeing each of the doors intermittently, tensed and waiting to rain down hell on anyone who dared threaten the pretty girl behind him.
He gritted his teeth, rubbing a hand down his face. There were too many weaknesses to his position. Three fucking doors. How was he supposed to cover three doors at once? And of course, his biggest weakness was in the room, too.
Bucky cringed. Had he actually just thought that? You’re losing it, Barnes. This is a coworker. Important, yes. But don’t you dare reduce her to a damsel in need of your protection. She wasn’t. He knew she wasn’t. Bucky had witnessed it firsthand when they sparred as she even took him down once. Granted, he had been a bit flustered by her pinning him to the ground, thighs straddling his hips, but still. She was powerful and brilliant and so, so kind to him.
And here she had to go and make that comment. Bucky guessed he hadn’t been meant to hear it, but that didn’t stop his heart from fluttering, his face from flushing, his shoulders tensing. Because, oh, how he wished she would let him. He just wouldn’t dare ask.
Bucky flinched, drawn out of his reverie, as Y/N let out a satisfied huff and the wheels of the chair skid to the side as she stood. He turned, watching with a grin he couldn’t smother as she shook her head to the side a bit, her little happy dance carrying down into her hips. She stepped backwards then, colliding into him with a yelp.
Instinctively, Bucky reached up to catch her, his hands finding her shoulders.
“Sorry!” she winced, turning to face him, head still bobbing a bit. “I just got a little caught up in the...that felt good.”
Bucky offered a soft smile. “Don’t be sorry. It was cute.”
At that, Y/N’s face flushed pink and she stilled. Her eyes bored into his as they both suddenly became aware that he was still holding her.
Idiot. He quickly dropped his hands. “Sorry, I--”
“No, it’s fine, I don't mind.” She chewed on the inside of her lip, eyes dropped for a moment, before she reached out and threaded her warm fingers through his metal ones.
Bucky’s breath hitched. Y/N had never been withholding when it came to physical contact, unlike almost everyone else in his life. He knew they didn’t mean it with malice; in fact, it was probably borne from concern. But Y/N was comfortable, casual. Shoulders brushing when they sat next to each other, fingers poking at his chest when she was too invested in some silly argument with him, elbows digging into his ribs when he threw her sarcasm right back at her.
But this was different. Intentional. Pre-meditated. Close. And very, very distracting.
Distracting enough that by the time Bucky had caught the smell of ozone lingering around him, it was too late. There was a click, and the world went black.
.....
Bucky wasn’t sure what woke him up first: the ringing in his ears, the throbbing in his skull, or the burning in his lungs. He wrenched his eyes open to see the room in shambles around him, obscured by the white spots waltzing through his vision. As he peeled himself up off the floor, he scanned the room. The explosion had ripped up into the ceiling, collapsing piles of cement around him, sparking little fires like clusters of poppies blooming around him. It had thrown him and Y/N--
Y/N. Bucky’s heart rate picked up as he scrambled through the piles of debris, her name tearing from his throat.
“Y/N! Y/N! Come on, talk to me, doll!” Bucky heard a groan from a few feet in front of him, and as his eyes caught on her, his heart dropped.
Y/N lay on the ground, blood dripping into her hair from a nasty gash on her forehead. Her tac suit was speckled with perforations, most of which were blooming red as well. But worst of all, he could only see half of her. Her left arm and leg disappeared under a pile of fallen ceiling.
Bucky sucked in a breath as he skidded to his knees next to her. His hands fluttered just above her, not sure what to do, not wanting to hurt her more than she already was. He settled for cupping a hand to her cheek, pushing a strand of blood-soaked hair out of her face.
Y/N’s eyes fluttered open at the touch, locking with his. They filled with panic, and she started to struggle against the debris holding her down.
“Y/N. Y/N! Hey! Hey. You’re okay.” He gently pressed a hand to her right shoulder. “Don’t move, doll, you’re gonna make it worse.” She stilled at that, eyes still locked on his.
“Bucky, what--” Her eyes widened as she glanced down. “Shit! Are you okay?”
Bucky followed her eyes, and he was surprised to see a piece of metal the size of his hand lodged in his left thigh. It wasn’t deep, but it was definitely there. And he hadn’t even felt it in his panic to find her.
Bucky chuckled. “Y/N, sweetheart, I appreciate the concern. Really, I do. But what the fuck?” He probed a finger around the edge of the wound, then gave a small wince as he yanked the piece out in one go. He grabbed at the end of his pant leg and tore a strip off, tying it quickly around the injury without a second thought. He could already feel the edges beginning to knit themselves together, the serum in his veins fast at work.
She gaped at him, at how quickly and casually he had acted. “Look, just because you’re a super soldier doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you.”
Bucky smiled a bit at that, but it quickly dropped when he noticed how pale she was. He pursed his lips. “Thank you. And now that I am sufficiently triaged, we need to get you out of here.” Bucky gently wrapped his hands around her free knee and shoulder and gave a brief experimental tug.
The cry that wrenched itself from her lips stopped him cold.
“Fuck! Y/N, I’m so sorry! That was stupid, I--I mean I just hoped...” Bucky closed his eyes to hide the tears involuntarily springing into his eyes. She heaved out a shaky breath, her right hand reaching up to cup his cheek. He couldn’t help but lean into her touch.
“Bucky,” she whispered.
“Hmm?” he hummed, his eyes still closed.
“You have to leave me here.”
His eyes shot open at that, recoiling away from her, from the awful notion she had just suggested.
“I can’t move,” she continued. “You can’t move me. And you’re hurt, too. I don’t care how fast that serum works. I’m a liability, and you need to go.”
Tears fell in earnest now as he stared into her pleading eyes. “There is no way,” he choked, his voice shaking, “no way, in fucking hell, that I am leaving you here.”
“Buck--”
“Drop it, Y/N. Drop it right the fuck now.”
“But--” And she would have protested more, had he not collapsed without warning onto her already damaged ribs, his vision burning white. And then his consciousness faded entirely.
.....
It was all you could do not to let out a scream of pain as Bucky collapsed on top of you. Not that you could have, really, because the super soldier’s weight quite effectively knocked all of the air out of your lungs.
As you struggled to draw in breath, you watched in horror as Bucky seized, eyes rolling back in his head, muscles contracting involuntarily. Your eyes fell on the joint of his silver arm, which was at the moment held fast by a black metal bar pulsing with energy.
You followed the awful weapon up to the man wielding it. His brown eyes bore into you, the irises so dark they almost blended with his pupils. An ugly smirk danced across his pale lips, and his black gloved hand twisted the bar more firmly into Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky arched upwards involuntarily, dropping heavily back down on you, eliciting a sharp yelp from your throat. Brown Eyes’ face split into a wicked smile, and he held the bar there for a moment longer, before finally letting it drop. Bucky continued to twitch, his nerves still reeling, soundly unconscious.
“Well my dear,” Brown Eyes cooed. “Thank you for delivering our lovely little Soldat back to us.” He gestured flippantly behind him, and two soldiers dressed in black, chests stamped with the horrid red emblem of Hydra, lurched into your field of vision. Cruel hands grappled at Bucky’s form, hauling him up between them. You fumbled weakly for a grip on his vest, desperate not to lose him to this organization that you knew haunted him, but it was a struggle you had no chance of winning.
Bucky was whisked out of the room, and Brown Eyes took a step forward, kneeling next to you, a hand gripping the side of your face. Tears sprung into your eyes as he occupied the exact same position Bucky had only moments before, but where there had been concern and gentleness before, there was now only cruelty and calculation. The man squeezed your jaw harshly, forcing your gaze up to him, and you choked down a sob.
“As for you, we need to have a little conversation. Someone has been playing with things that don’t belong to her.” He flicked his hand again, rising to his feet as two more soldiers surged forward. They gripped harshly at your right thigh and shoulder and yanked hard.
Blessed darkness descended, cutting off wretched pain, before you even realized you were screaming.
.....
The walls were cement, fluorescent lights bouncing painfully off the pale grey and doubling the pounding in Bucky’s head. He squinted, trying to shake the spots from his eyes as he surveyed. A thick metal grate running floor to ceiling divided the room cleanly in half, dark metal bars crisscrossing to leave gaps that he could maybe fit his forearm through. He could see the outline of a door in the metal, reinforced and held fast with an electronic locking mechanism.
The other side of his half the room was empty, save for a shackle hanging from a chain on the wall and a pool of blood on the floor that looked far too fresh. Bucky shook any further consideration of that from his mind before it could take root—he needed to focus on what he could actually do something about now. He needed an exit.
Bucky clambered to his feet, intent on probing the cell door for any weakness he could exploit, anything he could use to get out and find Y/N. His venture was short-lived, as he nearly collapsed into a heap.
For one, his right hand was shackled to the wall with a short chain, one that appeared to match the one on the opposite wall. The cuff was nothing spectacular, one he could have easily crushed with his—
Oh. His arm. That had been the real driving force pulling him back to the ground. Bucky had felt his metal arm go dead before, but this was different. This was more than lifeless weight. No, this felt like his arm was fighting against him, trying to both tear itself apart and rend it from the joint on his shoulder. Every movement sparked shocks from his silver fingertips up through the damaged connecting tissue and into his chest, sending his heart into a panic.
Bucky gave himself to the count of three before gritting his teeth and forcing himself back up to his feet, wrenching the resistant metal appendage up with him. He swallowed back a scream as white hot tendrils of pain coursed through his chest, probing at ribs he was sure were at least bruised in the explosion, if not broken.
He knew he needed to get out of the cuff first; the metal arm would be useless to check the walls for weaknesses, and even if it were functioning, the chain wouldn’t allow him to get close enough. He scanned quickly around the room, looking for something to disable or crush the hinge, but Hydra had been thorough. They knew who they were dealing with. Bucky knew the serum coursing through his veins was probably enough to rip the chain right out of the wall, but it wouldn’t be without cost. He was hesitant to cripple his one functioning hand at this point.
Bucky’s eyes fell once again on his arm, and he noticed that the hand was tensed into a fist so tight that it would have broken the skin if there had been any to break, or fingernails to break it. He almost laughed as an idea struck him. Wincing at the sharp pinches it sent, Bucky peeled the silver fingers back, trying to open his metal hand. Sure enough, they snapped back into a clenched fist, ever-resisting, but definitively demonstrating that he still had grip strength. If Hydra had merely deadened the arm, it would have been useless. Now, he could it make it work.
Bucky’s breath hitched as he forced his prosthetic fingers to wrap around the chain, as close to the wall as could get them. Steadying himself, he twisted sharply, vision darkening at the edges, but it had done the trick. The pin of the chain had yanked free of the wall, swinging to rattle by his side. Bucky leaned heavily against the wall for a moment, allowing his heart to settle from the most recent shock of nerves.
Across the room, there was a tiny whimper, so slight Bucky almost missed it. He strode quickly to the metal bars, the chain rattling along behind him, searching for the source.
His heart dropped clear through his stomach when he saw her. Strapped to a chair in the far corner of the room that hadn’t quite been visible from his spot on the wall, head lolling to the side, a small pool of blood forming at her feet. Bloodied wrists and ankles held fast with shackles to the arms and legs of the chair. Her face so ghostly pale it was almost translucent.
Y/N.
His stomach clenched as he surveyed her form, finding more of it marred with bruises and lacerations than not. Anger coursed through his veins as he noticed her shivering—the soldiers had removed her suit, leaving her in just the black sports bra and spandex shorts she wore underneath.
He wanted to run to her, to scoop her up in his arms and hold her, to tell her that everything would be okay, that he loved her, and—
Not helpful, he chided himself. If you actually want to help her, you need to get yourself out.
Tearing his eyes away from her, Bucky turned his attention to the door. His heart sank. Y/N would be helpful in figuring this out, but Bucky was basically useless when it came to this sort of thing. There weren’t any wires for him to cut, any buttons for him to fiddle with. Just a sleek grey metal box with some kind of scanner and a touchpad. He considered trying to repeat the stunt he’d pulled with the chain, to crush the mechanism, but his ears twitched.
Someone was approaching the door across the room, behind Y/N.
Bucky shuffled quickly back towards the wall, jamming the pin of the chain back into the hole in the wall as the locks on the door began to click. He collapsed heavily to the floor in an effort to look as broken and non-threatening as possible. It wasn’t hard--the fall had jarred his rebellious metal arm, sending another bloom of pain through his chest and stars dancing across his vision.
The door swung open, and two men walked in. The first was clearly in command of the room. His dark brown eyes surveyed Y/N hungrily, and Bucky wanted to throttle him. It was the second man, though, who brought in more concern. He wheeled in a silver cart, one of its wheels squeaking with every rotation. Bucky took one look at the assortment of tools and weapons on that damn squeaking cart and nearly retched.
The brown-eyed man left his vulture-like circling of Y/N’s unconscious form and meandered towards Bucky’s cell door.
“Hello, Soldat. We’ve missed you.”
“Fuck you,” Bucky hissed.
“Not to worry. We’ll correct your behavior later. But for now, I thought it might be nice to remind you why you’ll always come back to Hydra. Your little Avengers can’t protect you. They are...hmmm...deliciously mortal. At least this one is.”
The second man had returned, bringing with him this time a silver bucket. At the first man’s instruction, he heaved it towards Y/N, showering her in ice and water.
.....
You woke with a start to ice water splashing over your face and running quickly down your body, wincing as pebbles of ice assaulted your skin. You blinked against the glaring fluorescent light, searching for any sense that could orient you to a feeling that wasn’t one of pain. White spots danced in your vision, the light assaulting your pounding head. Without even looking up, you knew it was Brown Eyes chuckling next to you, and the sound grated in your ears like nails on a chalkboard. The coppery smell and taste of blood filled your nose and mouth. And what you were feeling...oh, God.
Finally, you willed yourself to open your eyes, if only to assess your physical state.
Red. So much red. You squeezed your eyes shut again, willing your stomach not to heave up its contents.
Okay, Y/N. You’re here. You’re conscious. One thing at a time. He’s watching you. Don’t give him the satisfaction. You gripped the armrests in an effort to ground yourself, fingernails carving little crescents into the soft wood. Taking a deep breath, you opened your eyes again.
You were barefoot, and your cheeks burned a bit as you realized you were in quite a bit less clothing than you had been before you passed out. You were still covered, but you longed for the protection of your tac suit, both from bodily harm and roaming eyes. And the warmth. Damn, you were cold.
Okay. What are we dealing with here? Start small. Small. Your body housed a mess of small cuts and bruises littered from your neck down to your toes. You could feel some damage to your ribs as you drew in each breath, mostly on the left side. Probably bruised, maybe fractured. You could feel a larger gash across your face, tracing from the middle of your forehead, down through your right eyebrow, and trailing towards your ear.
The real problems, though, were your left leg and arm. The tissues were a mess of lacerations and bruising, clearly haven taken a beating by being buried under a pile of cement. And there was something very disconcerting about how they aligned with the rest of your body. An extra dip, a disconnection. You winced as your realized they were probably dislocated. Most likely when you had been wrenched from under the debris.
You took a steadying breath, before finally daring to look up. You gasped a sigh of relief as your eyes locked with steel blue ones, the rest of the figure hidden behind a thick metal grate. But the comfort was short-lived, as Brown Eyes sidled into your line of sight, blocking out Bucky.
“Well, sweetheart. Nice of you to join us,” he sneered. He began to pace around you, shoes clicking across the cement floor. Your eyes fell to the drain a few feet in front of you, and your body tensed further. “I get the feeling this generous offer is going to be ignored, but I figured I should still give you the chance. Tell me how to reprogram the weapons you corrupted, and we’ll kill you quickly.”
He paused his pacing directly in front of you. You refused to look up into his eyes, instead fixing your gaze on the ugly red emblem on his chest. You allowed yourself to be filled with the only emotion that Hydra was deserving of, the only emotion you knew would protect you from caving: unbridled rage. Rage for the thousands of lives lost, corrupted, or mutilated. Rage for the haunted looks in your friends’ eyes following every engagement with this scourge upon humanity. And rage for the kind man with the blue eyes chained across the room.
Brown Eyes leaned down to lock eyes with you, and you heaved a glob of bloody spit onto his face. “Fuck. You.”
You registered your head snapping harshly to the side before you registered the slap to your cheek, heat beginning to bloom where you were sure a red handprint would take up a residence. Worth it.
“Fine, you bitch,” he hissed, as he wiped his face. “Let’s have a little fun then. I think you need to be reminded of who you belong to now.” With a vengeance, he pressed a silver cylinder in between your right collar bone and shoulder, and you writhed at the sudden burning. A fucking branding iron. “You belong to Hydra now. Your little Soldat over there? He is Hydra’s. The weapons you’ve ruined? You, Hydra’s newest tool, will restore them to Hydra!” With every word, he pressed the iron harder, and you couldn’t hold back your screams any longer. Blood-curdling, choking cries, as the smell of burning flesh filled your nostrils, and you retched.
You didn’t even realize the iron had been removed until Brown Eyes took a step back, the memory of it blurring into reality. You glanced down, and were almost relieved to not see the Hydra emblem, but a mess of red and blackened tissue in the shape of a circle. Brown Eyes had dug in too deep, and for too long. Better that than the fucking octopus.
He was back in your face again. “You will tell me how to fix them,” he growled.
You met his eye. “Make me, asshole.” Wrong answer, this time met with a solid hit to your kidneys.
This went on for some time. A demand from him. An expletive from you. A hit to your face or torso. Repeat. Brown Eyes hadn’t touched the cart of tools since the branding iron. And as you bore through round after round, meeting his eyes with every insult, you started to notice the fear lingering behind the malice.
Ah. There it is.
Another hit to your stomach, and you doubled over, coughing blood onto your bare legs, but unable to stop the smile tugging at your cracked lips.
Brown Eyes wasn’t a skilled interrogator. You knew Hydra had plenty of those at their disposal, so why was this too easy? Granted, you were in plenty of pain. But he had yet to target a blow to where it was most effective. A seasoned torturer would pick out the breaks in your ribs, the mess of your shoulder and hip, know exactly how to exploit those to maximize pain. Someone who knew what they were doing wouldn’t neglect the wide array of tools at their disposal. Brown Eyes wasn’t creative, throwing the same punch over and over again. And he landed it quite a bit harder when your rejection was paired with an insult. Emotional. Fearful. And definitely improvising.
Brown Eyes was being tested, or maybe punished. He was terrified, and if you could push him enough, he might knock you out, which would mean he would leave you alone, if only for a moment. He might even throw you in the cell with Bucky, and you two could begin to develop a plan for escape.
You sat up. “Is that really the best you can do? No wonder Hydra doesn’t trust you. You lost them their weapons, and you can’t even throw a decent punch to get them back.” Brown Eyes blanched for a moment, then immediately restored his cold glare, so fast you almost missed it. But there it was; you were right.
“You know, I prefer the sounds of your screams to your mindless rambling. Maybe we should stamp a few more brands on you.” You twisted your right wrist around in the metal cuff of the chair, properly flipping him off.
That was a mistake.
His mind had already drifted towards the tools on the tray, and now you had offered him something to use them on.
He was on you in a second, gripping your right hand harshly, dragging the skin against the metal cuff until it tore, pulling your arm as far out as he could against the constraints. “I wonder how many of these pretty little fingers you need intact to type your little codes,” he teased, plucking up a pair of needle-nosed pliers and edging them under the tip of your middle fingernail. He clamped the pliers down and yanked the entire nail straight from its bed, eliciting a pinched scream from your throat.
Okay. Maybe he was a little bit creative.
You lost two more fingernails that way--your thumb and then your index finger--before your finally lost consciousness. It wasn’t that this last bout of torment had hurt significantly worse than the rest, but your body simply couldn’t handle anymore. It had fought too much for too long. The darkness was a gift.
.....
Bucky had thrown up three times watching Y/N from through the grate. The first came when the iron burned into her skin, and her screams had pierced his heart like a knife, twisting and writhing as her flesh melted. The second was near the end of the exchange. He had seen Y/N flip her tormentor off, and the interaction after that had been shielded by the man’s body. He could see her feet twitching, fighting to carry her away from whatever he was doing. He could hear her screams again, tearing at his very soul. Until finally, she went still.
The final expelling of his stomach came after the second man returned to the room. At the torturer’s instruction, he entered a code in a panel across the room, and the shackles on the chair disengaged. Y/N slumped to the floor in a bloody heap. The second man crossed the room, dragging her with him towards the cell door. He placed a thumb on the touchpad, lowered his eyes to the scanner, and held for a moment. With a click, the lock disengaged, and the door swung open.
Bucky considered rushing the men then and there, but he quickly thought better of it. He had one arm. There was no way he could fight off oncoming attacks and protect Y/N in this state.
The man finished securing her to the opposite wall with the shackle, fastening it around her wrist, leaving her crumpled on the floor. When he stepped out of the way, Bucky got his first unobstructed view of the woman he loved, and he emptied his stomach for the third time.
Both men sneered at him. “You’ve gone soft, haven’t you, Soldat?” the brown-eyed man asked. “Not to worry. We’ll soon have you back to your bloodthirsty self.
The second that both men were out of the room and the locks on the door clicked, Bucky threw himself across the room, protests from the metal arm be damned.
Once again, his hand fluttered just above her, not wanting to make anything worse. There was so much blood. He knew he couldn’t wrap anything. She didn’t have any fabric to offer, and anything torn from his clothes would clue the soldiers in that one of them had escaped their position.
He settled for pulling her head gently into his lap, trying to situate her as comfortably as she could be, given the circumstances. His fingers carded absentmindedly through her hair and he scanned down her form, tears welling into his eyes. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, until sleep claimed him.
.....
Bucky couldn’t seem to help how often his eyes flicked up from his book to fall on the beautiful girl perched on the bench of the bay window. She was leaning against the glass, knees pulled up to her chest. The light behind her illuminated the rebellious flyaways that had escaped the bun on top of her head. A book sat open on the distressed denim on her lap, but her attention seemed to be more on the music coming through her...AirPhones? EarPhones? Pods. AirPods.
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as her head bobbed side to side, the motion carrying down into her shoulders and torso, finishing with a shift in her hips. Bucky had had a soft spot for Y/N since her first day on the team, when she offered him a hair tie during training, then helped him tie his hair up since his metal arm wasn’t cooperating. That soft spot had grown into a Y/N-shaped hole in his heart the more he got to know her. And as she didn’t run from him the more she got to know him.
“Bucky? You good?” Shit. He had been staring. He cleared his throat.
“Yeah, I...sorry. Just zoned out. What are you listening to?” She blushed a bit, probably realizing he had seen her little happy dance. If only she knew just how damn endearing it was.
“Umm, right at this very moment, ‘Heavy,’ by Birdtalker. Have you heard it?” When he shook his head, she beckoned over to him, tapping the bench beside her. He fought the urge to leap across the room to her, instead taking measured steps before plopping down on her left.
She handed him one of the AirPods. He must have looked a bit lost, because she took it back a moment later, gentle fingers tucking his hair back behind his ear, before inserting the plastic piece, and he was met with a swell of voices. His skin tingled where her fingers had touched, wishing for more. Clenching his jaw, he sidled a bit closer to her, until their shoulders brushed. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything, still humming along with the song.
“We need to improve your music education. Do you have Spotify?” Breath still faster than he would like it to be, Bucky pulled out his own phone and handed it to her. She clicked around, apparently setting up an account for him, giggling a bit as she billed it to Tony. He bit his lip at the sound, trying to stop his smile from breaking full across his face. Then she turned back to her own phone, very patiently explaining to him how a playlist worked as she added songs. Some that he would recognize, but mostly her favorites.
“Essentials,” she said simply. Through all of this, the music didn’t stop, and neither did her little dance. Her shoulder jostled his, but he couldn’t have minded less. He wondered if he was gaping at her.
When she was satisfied, she sent the playlist to him and added it to his favorites. “Because it will be,” she teased, and Bucky believed her.
.....
“Bucky.” A ragged whisper of his name pulled him from his sleep. He looked down, and his eyes met hers. Tears welled up again as he saw the pain tensed across her face.
“Hey, doll,” he managed. “You did so good. I’m so proud of you.”
“Bucky, I--it hurts,” she gasped. “I want to go home.” Sobs racked her body, and Bucky’s own tears fell onto her face as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. White hot anger coursed in his brain, tensing through his chest, at the organization who had already taken so much from him, and had now stripped Y/N down to such a vulnerable state.
“I know, sweetheart. We’re gonna get you out of here. It’s gonna be okay.” He held her as she cried, curling in towards his stomach, right arm curving to wrap around his waist. She shifted again, and her elbow brushed against his metal arm. She yelped, drawing her arm back towards her, and yelped again as the sudden movement jostled her aching body.
Bucky panicked. “What? What’s wrong?” He grimaced. What wasn’t wrong?
“What happened to your arm? It’s...burning up.” Bucky bit back a groan. Of course, his fucking arm was the problem. It was always the problem.
“I don’t know. They hit it with something when they knocked me out earlier. It’s not dead. It’s like it’s...fighting me.”
Y/N nodded. He winced as he realized he must have fallen on top of her when they knocked him out. He was about to apologize when she spoke instead.
“Have you tried resetting it?”
Bucky’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“Resetting it. It’s not overheating or disabled, it’s corrupted. They had some kind of an energy weapon they used. It probably just needs a...” She trailed off at the dumbfounded look on his face.
“How the fuck do you know that? Why do you know that and I don’t know that?” Y/N shrugged, wincing at the movement in her shoulders. She tried to sit up, and Bucky helped ease her up gently. “I like tech, and I like yo--” She cleared her throat. “Learning about you. Stark showed me.” Bucky thought he saw a trace of a blush on her cheeks, but he dismissed it as the exertion of sitting upright.
Gritting her teeth, she positioned herself next to his arm. “Can I...?”
“Whatever you need.”
“I actually need to get to the underside of the arm, so if you could--” She hadn’t even finished before Bucky had raised the metal appendage up, bending at the elbow to rest the hand behind his head. He hissed through his teeth as his arm fought him, needling at this chest again with shocks of pain.
“Should I even bother trying to understand what they did to it? Or what you’re doing to fix it?”
“Umm...you could, but Stark could explain it a hell of a lot better.” She probed at the base of the arm in his armpit, her hand shaking. Bucky spotted the pools of blood where three fingernails had been, and he almost made her stop. He was asking too much of her. But she pressed on, her cold fingers gentle against the metal, and Bucky reminded himself that without his arm, there was no way to get her out.
“I don’t really understand the whole energy bit. That’s a Hydra weapon, and I honestly didn’t want to know much about it. But it’s basically acting like a virus in your arm... I guess technically closer to an autoimmune disease, since it’s making it fight against itself. But that metaphor doesn’t translate well into how I’m fixing it. This is the equivalent of turning it off and turning it back on again.”
Okay. That much he could follow. But his arm could be reset? “Stark didn’t want to tell me about this?” He watched as she counted four plates up from the edge. She tried to grip at it with her battered fingers, stifling a groan, before switching to pry it up with her pinky fingernail.
“I think he meant to. At first it was put in as a security measure. In case...” She didn’t have to finish that. In case he became a threat.
She cleared her throat. “But now that you’re...fine...he meant to tell you. It must have slipped his mind.” Bucky grumbled at that, but he was soon distracted. The plate Y/N had pried up revealed a minuscule panel of dials.
“You’re gonna want to hold the arm up, or it’ll come crashing down on your head.” Bucky obliged as she flicked a series of dials, a complicated combination to prevent abuse of this hidden feature.
Sure enough, the metal arm collapsed into his right hand. Bucky sighed in relief. The arm was heavy, but the limp weight was familiar, and it didn’t send tendrils of pain screaming through his body.
Y/N twisted in another combination, flicking the cover back into place, and suddenly the arm whirred back to life. Plates tensed, rolling up and then down like a deck of cards, before settling into the comfortable rhythm Bucky was accustomed to.
“You are fucking incredible,” Bucky grinned. She smiled at that, the first real smile he had seen since her little happy dance at the computer. That felt like months ago.
She shifted towards him, and the smile turned to a grimace, pulling Bucky out of his reverie. Blood was still pooling around her, expelling from more open wounds than he could count. She had put a brave face back on, but he could see her eyes glazing over. She was going to bleed out unless he did something.
“Fuck it,” he muttered, tearing at the hem of his shirt. Her eyes went wide.
“What are you doing?”
“I need to stop some of this bleeding. Get you stable enough so we can--”
“Bucky, if your shirt is wrapped around me, it’s gonna take them about two seconds to realize you’re not chained up anymore.”
“Well what does that matter if I kill them the next time they come in? We need to get you out, Y/N. You’re losing too much blood. You won’t make it through another round of--”
“No, you need to get out. I told you earlier, Buck. I’m a liability. I can’t walk. I can’t fight. Look at this pool of blood. There is no way I’m making it out of here. Let me go knowing you made it out of--”
“Y/N!” he yelled. “There is not a chance in hell I am leaving the woman I love to die here alone!”
Y/N squeaked out a gasp. Her mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out.
You asshole. She’s already in so much pain and now you’ve put that burden on her, too.
“Please,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Let me get you out.”
A click at the door echoed through the room, the first of many locks being undone. Bucky leapt up, sprinting across the room and jamming the pin back into the wall. He cursed. He hadn’t even wrapped Y/N’s wounds or broken the shackle on her wrist, let alone sorted out any draft of a plan. But one glance at the ever-growing pool of blood on the floor confirmed his suspicions. They wouldn’t get another chance.
He locked eyes with her across the room, a silent war waged between them as the clicking from the door echoed. Y/N’s stare was hard, protesting, but he could see a flicker of something else behind her eyes as tears brimmed. Finally, finally, she nodded slowly, collapsing against the wall.
Bucky let out a shaky breath of relief. He tensed, waiting, as the door swung open and the brown-eyed man strode in.
“Up and at ‘em, princess,” he growled, clearing the room in three strides, planting his thumb on the pad and dropping his eye-line to meet the scanner. Bucky couldn’t help but notice the bruise under his eye. Clearly, someone hadn’t been happy that he hadn’t succeeded yet.
The tormentor sauntered into the cell towards Y/N, who cowered against the wall.
“Hmmm...” He feigned consideration. “Definitely a closed casket for you.”
“Better than looking at your ugly mug any longer,” she spat. She flinched back as he raised his hand to strike her, eyes squeezing closed.
The blow never connected.
Bucky leapt on him from across the room, slamming his arm down to his side before wrapping both hands around the sides of his head and snapping his neck in a single jerk. It was over so fast, Y/N still had her eyes closed waiting for a hit that wouldn’t come.
Bucky kneeled and reached a hand towards her, heart crumpling as she jerked away from him. “Hey,” he pleaded. “It’s me. It’s over.” It wasn’t, not yet, but he could give her this moment.
He reached slowly towards the chain at her wrist, snapping it easily and leaving her with just the cuff still wrapped around her like a bracelet. He didn’t want to risk hurting her by breaking that part off too.
“Sorry, we can get that—” His words died in his throat as she threw herself into his arms, right arm coming to wrap around his neck, left arm dangling limply at her side. Bucky’s breath hitched as she nuzzled her face into his neck, and he sat there stunned for a moment.
But the moment passed, and Bucky allowed himself to hold her, his right arm wrapping around her waist, and his metal hand resting on the back of her head, silver fingers fiddling with her hair. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, and the warm breath of her sigh fanned over his neck.
Bucky could have stayed like that forever, holding her in his arms, but he was all too aware of the blood that was seeping into the front of his suit. Blood that definitely wasn’t his.
He moved his hands to her shoulders and gently pushed her back. “Okay, doll. It’s time to go.” She nodded, and he rose to his feet.
“Can you walk?” He already knew the answer to that, but he also knew she was too stubborn to admit it. He extended both of his hands to her. She braced both of hers against his forearms, and he gripped her elbows. He lifted her slowly to her feet, and she stifled a groan. Not letting go of her, he eased her forward a step. The moment she put weight on her left leg, she buckled into him.
“I’m sorry! I can do it. I just need a--” she panted, “--a second.”
“Y/N, doll, all due respect, but no, you cannot. Your internal organs have probably been rearranged a bit by that beating. Your shoulder and hip are probably dislocated, and you probably have some breaks in there too. You are dripping blood from more cuts than I can count. And you don’t have any fucking shoes.” He tried for a grin on that last bit, but it was marred by the tears in his eyes as he recounted the damage to her body.
“I can carry you. That’s fine. And normally I would just scoop you up, but I don’t really know what we’re dealing with out there. I, uh, I kinda need an arm free.”
She shrugged weakly. “I still think you should leave me here. You do whatever you gotta do.”
He shot her a glare at that, then bent down to brace his right shoulder at her waist. He heaved her up into a fireman’s carry, wrapping his right arm around the back of her legs. He felt her anchor her right hand against his back. Her left arm dangled at his side.
“You good?” he called. She hummed in response.
“Okay. We got this. I need you to watch my six, okay?” He didn’t actually want her to bear that responsibility, but he was concerned that if she didn’t have something to focus on, she would fade out of consciousness, and that she might not come back. Bucky’s shoulder was already damp with the blood seeping out of her.
He tensed his metal arm, then strode quickly out of the open cell door, past the awful bloody wooden chair, and out the door into the hall.
.....
The next several minutes passed in a blur. You tried to do as Bucky asked and watch his back, but your eyelids fought against you, and your blinks were getting longer every time you gave in. The two of you were met with surprisingly little resistance, or maybe you just missed it all. You felt Bucky engage with two, maybe three soldiers as he made his way down the hall. He handled them each with his one free hand. Bones cracked, and he moved on. You winced at how useless you were, draped over his shoulder, weighing down his escape.
It wasn’t long before the harsh fluorescent lights were replaced with fading rays of sunlight. As Bucky swiveled to check the door he had just brought you out of, you caught a glimpse of the sun setting over the mountains, painting the sky with golds and pinks.
You sighed in relief at the sight, even as Bucky turned back around and the view was replaced with the Hydra compound. But wait. It had been dawn when the two of you had breached Hydra defenses in the first place. Had it really only been one day? Or worse, had it been two?
As if voicing the thoughts in your head, the super soldier muttered, “God, how long were we in there?” He moved quickly into the coverage of the surrounding forest.
When you didn’t respond, he cleared his throat. “Doll? You with me?”
“Hmm? Yeah.”
“The safe house isn’t far from here. We can get you cleaned up and call for evac.”
“Why didn’t—” You hacked a cough, wincing as you heaved blood down the back of Bucky’s vest. “Why didn’t they come and get us?” Even if it had only been one day, which you strongly doubted, that was far too long for them to not know that something was wrong.
“Steve didn’t tell you? He waived the check-ins. Gave us a two-day infiltration window plus a two-day cool-down at the safe house. Figured we could handle it, and the less communication the better for staying under the radar.”
Right. You did remember Steve saying something about less communication, but you had been a bit distracted, working up the nerve to ask for a different partner. The longer debrief period was new information, though. Your cheeks burned as you wondered if that had anything to do with your mortifying confession.
“So...no one’s coming?”
“Not until we check in. My emergency beacon is gone. I’m assuming yours is too.”
“Well I just have so many pockets to check right now, so...” Bucky chuckled at that.
A breeze tickled through the trees and teased the few pieces of your hair that weren’t matted down with blood, raising goosebumps on your exposed skin. You shivered.
“Ummm...Bucky?”
“Yeah, doll?”
“Do you think you could...I mean, do you think we’re far enough that...I’m sorry, I’m just so...cold.” You felt his shoulder tense beneath you and he cursed.
“Shit, doll, of course. I’m sorry, I was just so focused on getting us out.” He eased you down off his shoulder, then lifted you again, this time with one arm tucked around your back and the other under your knees. You eased your left arm into your lap, then snaked your right arm around his neck.
You looked up at him, finding so much concern in his stormy blue eyes. And something else, too, but you weren’t quite sure what it was. “Thank you,” you whispered, sidling into his chest, sighing into his warmth.
“Of course,” he said softly. “Stay with me, okay?”
You nodded, but your eyes were fighting you again. The warmth felt much better than the cold, but it didn’t help your alertness. You could hear Bucky’s concern as he begged for you to stay awake, but it felt like his voice was miles away, and perhaps underwater too. You settled against him, the rhythm of his gait lulling you into darkness again.
.....
Bucky was going to kill Steve. Nat, too. Maybe the whole team. In short, anyone who had given the go-ahead for an op with so few contingencies. He knew they hadn’t expected for the pair to meet so much resistance, but still. Here he was, barreling through the door of the safe house--a safe house that was so fucking far away--with Y/N long passed out in his arms, still raining blood on the ground.
She had tried so hard to stay awake. He knew she had been trying. But her body had sustained too much. He had stopped twice, shedding his own layers to wrap around her, trying to warm her up, to staunch any of the bleeding, to prevent her blood from leaving a trail to be tracked along the forest floor. He was reticently glad for the snow that started to fall, freezing the pair further, but covering their tracks.
Kicking the door shut behind him and hearing the mechanized lock whir into place, Bucky flew across the room, depositing Y/N gently on the couch. She was still out, but her teeth chattered uncontrollably, and her whole body shook.
He stepped back and surveyed the room. A brand new safe house--simple, but well-prepared. He knew there wouldn’t be a heating system: too much energy, too easily picked up. But the fireplace was well-stocked, and he had a blaze going in minutes. His eyes probed the walls as he lifted Y/N gently from the couch and placed her in a pile of blankets close to the fire, his gaze finally coming to rest on a painting of a falcon. He rolled his eyes--Sam was less than subtle.
He took a little bit too much pleasure in tearing it down, revealing a metal panel with a touch pad. He jammed his thumb onto the scanner, and the panel swung open after a moment. He emptied the safe of its contents: an extensive med-kit, an emergency beacon, and a secure satellite phone. He dropped it all in a heap next to Y/N, punching in a number and clicking on speaker as he unzipped the first aid kit and activated the emergency beacon.
The phone rang three times before Steve picked up with a chuckle. “Hey Buck, how’s the safe house?” Bucky almost screamed.
“Steve. I’m going to wring your damn neck when I get back. But right now, I need you to get your star-spangled ass on the jet and come get us.”
“Hey, hey! What’s going on? We got the confirmation that Y/N did her thing about 36 hours ago. We just figured the two of you were enjoying the safe house--”
“What the fuck would we be doing for 36 hours?”
Steve cleared his throat. Bucky could almost hear the blush on his face. “I mean, she likes you, and you like her, so--”
“You idiot. We just got here. They knocked us out, tried to torture Y/N into fixing the weapons, and she’s not--” His voice broke as he glanced down at her. This conversation was taking too long. Her breaths were getting shallower with every inhale. “Fuck, Steve. I don’t know that she’s gonna make it.” A sob heaved up from his chest.
“We’re on our way, Buck. Just hold on.” Steve’s voice was solemn now. “Triage her the best you can. We’ll have the cradle and Helen ready. It’s gonna be okay.”
Bucky hung up. He needed his full attention on her, needed her to hold on long enough for the help to be worth anything.
Triage. Biggest problems first. Blood loss. Infection. Dehydration. Discomfort. Bucky wished he had let Sam teach him more about this shit. He made a mental note to ask him to show him everything he could the second Y/N was safe.
He at least knew how to set up a blood transfusion, and he did so quickly, threading the needle into the crease of her right elbow, thanking Nat silently for having the foresight to include a list of everyone’s blood types in the kit.
He gently peeled back the blankets to assess the sources of blood flow. He knew she was bleeding internally from the beating and from the ceiling collapse, but he couldn’t do anything about that now. That would have to wait until the cradle arrived. Every time his gaze fell on a new bruise or laceration, tears threatened to spill over onto his cheeks. He forced his mind to remain blank other than sorting: stitches, gauze, or bandaid.
His fingers flew of their own volition, over and over again. Numbing agent injected. Cleaning agent applied. Antibacterial administered. Stitches threaded. A bandage fastened over. On her left hip. On her forehead. Six places on her left leg. Four on her arm.
Then, the gauze. Cleaning again. More antibacterials. Wrapping to keep pressure. On the rest of her left arm and leg. On the messy burn on her collar bone. On her right wrist, where the brown-eyed man had shredded it against the cuff. The metal shackle still dangled there.
Finally, bandaids. Bucky knew they weren’t really necessary, but he couldn’t stop himself from moving. Gentle wiping of blood, and three little bandaids wrapped around the empty nail beds on her right hand. He found himself reluctant to let go of her hand, fingers ghosting over knuckles before gently pressing a kiss to them.
Bucky sat back on his heels, groaning a bit at the throbbing in his knees and the tension in his back and shoulders. How long had he been sitting there? He surveyed her form, now a hodgepodge of gauze, swirling purple and blue bruises, and a few rare patches of unmarred but very pale skin. There were still remnants of blood, speckles and drips. He grabbed a rag and walked to the sink, running the water until it grew warm, and he soaked the edge of the fabric.
When he returned to her side, he stopped in his tracks, eyes locking with hers.
“Y/N!” He fell to his knees next to her, cupping a hand to her face. “Oh, doll, I wasn't sure you--”
“I’m okay, Buck.”
Bucky’s eyes widened. “Have you seen yourself lately?”
Her lip curled into half a smile. “Have you? You look like hell.”
“Yeah, well, most of that is from you bleeding all over me.”
Her smile dropped. “Sorry, I--”
“Are you actually trying to apologize to me for bleeding?”
Silence. Bucky smiled softly. “I’m gonna finish getting you cleaned up, and then we can deal with me, okay?” He spent a few minutes wiping the rest of the dried blood from her body as gently as her could, revealing even more nicks and cuts from the explosion.
He felt her gaze on him as he worked, and he was suddenly very aware of the fact that he was not wearing a shirt, having shed it and his tac vest long ago to wrap around her on their trudge to the safe house.
His ears burned as he considered how that must look to her, and they burned even more as he realized she was seeing the tissue above his left arm for the first time.
“I’m, uh--I’m sorry. I needed to wrap you in something so there wouldn't be a trail...I’m gonna go look for some other clothes for us.” He cleared his throat awkwardly and made to get up, but she caught his wrist.
“Buck. It’s okay. Can I...?” She raised her right hand slowly towards the mass of scar tissue. He watched her eyes for any sign of disgust or discomfort, but found none. An impossibly long moment later, he felt her fingers come to rest in the divots of the scars, and his eyes fluttered closed. She ran her fingers along the skin gently for a moment, and when her touch disappeared he missed it instantaneously. It was only gone for a second, before he felt her lips press to his shoulder instead, and his eyes flew open. She had pushed herself up into a sitting position, her right hand now resting on his metal bicep, and her soft lips kissing over the frayed nerves. Bucky sighed at the contrast of her heavenly touch with the coursing pain he had been feeling there only a few hours ago.
She pulled back, eyes locking with his, asking a question they both knew the answer to.
That answer came as he cupped the back of her head and pressed his lips gently against hers, capturing her bottom lip between his own. There was no urgency, just sweet warmth and intensity. She tasted like copper and salt, and something sweeter, something entirely her own.
Bucky leaned into her, and she yelped. “Shit!” He pulled back instantly. “Sorry, I don’t want to push you into anyth--”
“No, it’s not that at all,” she grimaced. “I leaned back onto my shoulder. I think it’s dislocated.”
Fuck. Bucky had been so focused on stopping her from bleeding out, he hadn’t addressed anything deeper.
“Right. Ummm...I can check? I should probably check for breaks, too, since you had a mountain of concrete on top of you. If you’re okay with that,” he finished hurriedly. She nodded in encouragement, laying back down.
He probed gently at the joint of her shoulder, cursing under his breath as she grit her teeth. Sure enough, it was dislocated. He ran his hand slowly down her arm, dodging sutures and patches of gauze, halting as she hissed through her teeth. There it was, about four inches above her wrist, a break in one of the bones of her forearm. Luckily, it didn’t seem to have deviated from position. He could splint that.
Bucky repeated the process with her left leg, finding a similar dislocation in her hip, but no clear breaks. There was probably some fracturing, given the volume of her reaction, but at least nothing to set. A quick run over her right limbs found no additional causes of concern--they hadn’t been buried under a pile of ceiling.
“Okay. So two dislocations and a break. We can keep you comfortable here, and then when the team arrives they can--”
“Buck. I need to have these set before they put me in the cradle, or they’ll heal wrong. You should set them now.”
“Yeah, it’s just...I already used all of the numbing agent, and I don’t think I can administer any pain meds on top of that. Especially since your circulatory system is all over the place with the transfusion. We should wait.”
“Look. You did a wonderful job piecing me back together. You saved my life. Hear me say that.” She gently cupped his jaw, pulling his gaze down to hers. “You saved my life. But we both know I’m a mess inside and the sooner they get me in the cradle the better. We should be as ready as we can be.”
He hesitated. “It’s gonna hurt like hell. And I’ve seen just about all I can stand of you in pain.” The second the words left his mouth, he wished he could take them back. How selfish was that? She had been through hell and back, and he wasn’t going to treat her because he didn’t want to see her cry anymore?
She wasn’t fazed, though. She looked at him softly. “I know, Buck. But please. Give me my best shot, okay?” He turned his face, pressing a kiss to her palm.
“Okay, doll,” he conceded. “Ummm, let’s see. We should splint the break first. Immobilize it. I’ll need to manipulate your whole arm to get the shoulder back in, and I don’t want to aggravate it more.” He pulled a brace and more gauze from the kit, laying the wood against her forearm, pressed against her wrist, and began to wrap slowly. He watched her face as he worked, and was relieved to see it wasn’t contorting in pain, just mild discomfort betrayed by a stiffness in her jaw and a twitching of her upper lip.
“Okay,” he warned, as he fastened the end of the gauze down. “That was the easy one. Relocating these...are you sure?”
She breathed deeply, coughing a bit on the exhale and painting the edges of her lips with red. “Yes.”
“All right. Here we go.” Bucky laid her left arm straight out, perpendicular to her body. He sat parallel to it, boots braced against her torso, hands clamped around her wrist and elbow. “Count to three for me.”
She looked over, eyeing him suspiciously. She knew this tactic, but it wasn’t going to stop him from using it. “One...tw--”
Bucky pulled hard, and tears sprang into his eyes as something between a cry and a strangled scream ripped itself from Y/N’s throat. He could go his whole life never hearing that sound again. But he still had one more joint to reset.
He ran a hand soothingly down her side as she held her splinted arm across her chest defensively, like an animal guarding its wounds. Tears streamed down her face, and a sheen of sweat had broken out on her forehead.
“Shit!”
“Doll, I--”
“Just do it,” she whispered through gritted teeth. “Please just...just do it.”
The sound was worse the second time as her hip was clicked back into place, a scream choked by a sob, and the tears that had been threatening finally spilled over onto Bucky’s face. He laid down on her right side, pulling her gently into his chest, wiping at the tears on her face.
“You did so good, doll. I got you. Just rest now.” She folded into him, and his right arm wrapped gently around her waist. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, and felt with relief as her breathing fell into a soft rhythm.
.....
You shivered as consciousness flooded back—you were noticeably colder now than you remembered being last. Not having a super soldier wrapped around you would do that. The significant reduction in pain was definitely an improvement, but you missed the feeling of him against you, now absent, except...
Your eyes fluttered open to rest on your right hand, only to find it disappearing between two much larger ones, one calloused flesh and the other smooth metal. You blinked quickly, trying to shake the dancing spots from your vision, a headache already building from the fluorescent lights and the soft rhythmic beeping of the monitors next to you.
You tensed your hand, squeezing Bucky’s, and he startled up, his blue eyes wide and searching yours.
“Hey! You’re awake! Hold on, I can grab—“ He moved to get up, starting to let go of your hand, but you caught him.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine for just a minute longer. Just...sit here for a second?” He fell easily back into the chair, wrapping his hands around yours again.
You looked him over, not expecting to find many injuries. He hadn’t had a lot to begin with, and the serum was better treatment than most. Instead, your gaze fixated on the dark circles under his eyes, the tension in his shoulders, the deep-set wrinkles in his clothes. You pursed your lips.
“How long was I out?”
“Two days.”
“And how long have you been here?” It wasn’t really a question, and he didn’t answer.
You sighed. “Bucky, did you really do the idiot-guy-refusing-to-take-care-of-himself-because-he-must-wait-at-the-fallen-girl’s-bedside thing?”
“Hey!” he pouted. “I had to be there for all of the passing outs—and there were a fucking lot of them, by the way. I figured I should get to be there for the waking up, too.”
You pulled your hand from his and shoved halfheartedly at his shoulder, earning a chuckle that made your heart dance. “Well, now that I am awake, you’re off the hook. You should sleep. Or eat. Or shower. Probably all three. Where’s Steve?”
“He’s dead. I killed him.” Bucky may have had the Winter Soldier thousand-mile-stare down cold, but he couldn’t hide the twinkle in his eyes from you. You shoved him again, quite a bit harder this time.
“Hey! Hey! Okay, he’s fine. Definitely feeling a bit guilty, though. He took one look at you when I brought you up the ramp to the jet and burst into tears. I believe his exact words were, ‘Y/N, I’m so fucking sorry.’”
Your jaw dropped. “Steve said ‘fuck’? Damn, do I really look that bad?”
“You could never,” Bucky smiled, more serious this time. “A bit battered, yes, but still just as beautiful.”
A familiar pink crept over your cheeks and tickled the tops of your ears. Bucky cleared his throat and continued.
“Anyway, Steve should be back later tonight. The second you were stable, he took...well, pretty much everybody with him to go clear out the Hydra base. Everyone except Nat, since she still isn’t cleared for combat. She raised hell over that, but I think they convinced her she could be useful restocking the safe house, since we used so many supplies. Although I wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up in the fray anyway. Everyone took it pretty personally.”
You gaped. “Everyone went? I didn’t realize I had that kind of pull.”
Bucky smiled. “How could you not?”
“They could have just sent flowers,” you teased. “They didn’t have to...” You trailed off, seeing Bucky’s face tense. His eyes fell to fixate on the gauze wrapped around your wrist.
“Bucky?” Your hand found his again, and you squeezed gently, trying to draw his gaze back to you. “Bucky? Hey. It wasn’t their fault.”
He swallowed hard. “No, I know that. It’s just...Y/N, I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you.”
“But you didn’t,” you pressed gently, running your thumb in small circles on the back of his hand. “Bucky, you saved my life. You know that, don’t you? Hey. Look at me.” Finally, his eyes found yours, storming and glassy. “You, James Buchanan Barnes, saved my life.” You teased a smile at him. “Hell, I bet Helen told you that already, and you’re just too damn stubborn to believe it.”
He was silent for a moment, searching your gaze with tear-filled eyes, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
“Hey, Buck?” you whispered, heat rising to your cheeks once again. You wondered if you kept this up, if it would become a permanent feature.
“Yeah, doll?”
“When we were arguing...in the cell...you said something, and I—”
“Fuck, doll. I’m so sorry.” A matching shade of pink painted across his face. “I shouldn’t have put that on y—”
“I love you, Bucky.”
His eyes widened. “You—you do?” he asked, his voice a bit strangled.
You nodded, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “And you know...we didn’t really get to finish our first kiss.” You scooted over to the far side of the bed, tugging his hand with you.
He grinned. “Well, I suppose...we should do something about that.” He climbed gingerly up next to you, and you turned on your side to face him. Your skin tingled as he brought his hand up to cup the side of your face, thumb running along your cheekbone, fingers flicking into your hair. His forehead rested against yours for a moment, and then his lips melded with yours, and the world fell away.
The world had fallen out from under you five times in the last four days. Explosion. Dislocation. Torture. Blood loss. Healing. Each fading had welcomed nothing but darkness, empty and cold.
Now, as the fluorescent lights, the beeping monitors, and the hum of hospital machinery melted into nothingness, they were replaced by pure light and warmth. Full of color and the promise of something more. Bucky.
You broke away after what felt like a blessed eternity, breathless. Your grin brushed against his. “Definitely a shower,” you jabbed, feigning a scrunch of your nose.
“Only if you join me, doll,” he chuckled.
You shrugged up your casted arm in protest. “I think we may need to hold off on that one for a bit.” You winked at him. “Raincheck?”
Somehow, his smile became wider. “Deal,” he mumbled against the corner of your mouth as you kissed away the tears that had dared to fall. You could feel your own tracing down your cheeks, and knew that, like his, they were those of pure unadulterated joy. His fingers carded through your hair, and he locked his stormy blue eyes on yours.
“I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you, too.”
A/N: So...there it is! If you stuck all the way through it, I am very thankful for you. If you feel so inclined to leave a like or comment, you have my heart. Feedback is appreciated, although I do ask that you remember that I am a person with feelings, so please consider sharing criticisms with kindness. I’m still learning the ins and outs of all of this, so if you have requests or suggestions, send them my way. Much love to you all!
Update: This fic is now a two-shot! Read the sequel to deadweight, entitled deliverance, here.
Summary: Reader decides to spend a year celebrating all of the birthdays Bucky missed over the last 70+ years.
A/N: Fluff! So much fluff! This is written for the 9k Writing Challenge hosted by the wonderful @wkemeup. This is my first time taking part in a writing challenge and I’m so excited! If you haven’t read any of her stuff, I highly highly recommend. They are my favorite fics to read. Here is her masterlist. My prompt was:
“Character A reaches out to wipe away something at the edge of Character B’s lip and their thumb lingers longer than intended. Slowly, they lift their gaze to meet [B]’s. They suddenly realize how quiet it is.”
Enjoy :)
------
“Happy Birthday, Buck!” you exclaim, grinning from ear to ear as you stand in the hallway.
Bucky chuckles, leaning against the doorframe to his room. “Doll, I truly appreciate all of the effort you have been putting into this, but it really isn’t necessary. My birthday is next week. You don’t need to put in all of this work for me.”
Your smile turns into a pout. “What, are you sick of hanging out with me?”
“Not at all, Y/n! I just don’t want it to be something you feel pressure to do every week. I mean, birthdays are only supposed to be celebrated once a year.”
You groan, rolling your eyes. “Do we really need to go over this again, Bucky? Or are you going to stop whining and let me do my thing?”
Bucky sighs, looking down at the ground and then back at you, the corners of his mouth turning up. You take that as an acceptance and grin, grabbing his hand and dragging him out of his room.
Almost a year ago, the day after Bucky’s actual birthday, you had pitched him this ridiculous idea of “The Year of Birthdays.” It broke your heart thinking about the fact that Bucky had lost 70 years of his life to Hydra, plus a few extra after escaping from their hold and spending all that time recovering, on the run from everyone and then putting himself back together in Wakanda. All those years and he didn’t have a single birthday celebration. So you decided that you would make up for lost time.
Every week for one year, the two of you would celebrate Bucky’s birthday.
At first, he rolled his eyes at you, not believing that you would actually commit to a whole year of this for him. But that following Friday, you knocked on his door holding a card and a cupcake with a candle lit in the middle. You had this childish grin on your face, bouncing up and down with excitement, and extended the cupcake to him.
“Happy Birthday, Buck,” you said, and Bucky’s heart swelled. He chuckled at you in disbelief before blowing out the candle. The two of you spent the rest of the night hanging out in his room, watching movies. He had been a little overwhelmed during his actual birthday celebration last week with the whole gang, so you wanted this week to be a small, casual thing. He loved it.
Bucky opened the card after you left. The front of it had a photo of a lion wearing a party hat. The inside read ‘Hope your birthday is aMANEzing!’ with a smiley face and your name written at the bottom. Bucky smiled, laughing as he shook his head.
“What the hell have I gotten myself into?” he muttered to himself.
And each week, you continued to knock one his door with a card and some sort of birthday dessert item (donuts, cookie cake, a deep fried oreo one time that took some convincing for Bucky to eat), always a big grin on your face as you said the same thing again and again.
“Happy Birthday, Buck.” And then the ‘birthday’ would begin. You took him on all sorts of adventures. Arcades, movie theaters, ice-skating, the zoo, even bowling. So many corny activities that Bucky would groan at but secretly love more than you could ever know.
As always, those adventures were spread out between casual days spent at the compound, whether it involved watching Bucky’s favorite movies from the 40s, making your own pizzas in the kitchen, playing board games, or going on walks outside and sharing some of your favorite memories together. The last one was one of Bucky’s favorite things to do with you. He loved the way you would light up when he laughed while reminiscing about the mischief he and Steve would get in and past birthdays he celebrated with his family as a kid, or the small smile on your face as you told him stories about your childhood, and all of the crazy adventures you and your family would go on. Some of which were inspirations for your Friday plans.
And at the end of the day, Bucky was left with those ridiculous cards you got him. Some of his favorites included two old women drinking wine on the couch (you said that that was going to be the two of you in 50 years), a monkey riding a tractor that played music if you pushed a button found on one of the tires of the tractor (he complained that the music was obnoxious but could never successfully fight back the laugh that would escape him whenever it played), and the one you drew yourself of you and Bucky ice skating in the winter (you joked that your drawing skills were on par with a five year old’s but Bucky thought it was a true work of art).
There were so many Fridays where Bucky thought you might call it quits, and yet you never did. Even when Christmas fell on a Friday this year, you showed up at his door on Thursday, card and a gingerbread cookie wearing a birthday hat in hand. Your persistence was absolutely ridiculous and Bucky found that his heart swelled every time he opened his door to find you standing there with that breathtaking smile.
And every week, Bucky fell more and more hopelessly in love with you.
Not that he would tell you. He was too much of a coward and didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Next to Steve, you were his closest friend and he didn’t want to throw that away because of his inability to control his feelings.
But how could he not fall in love with you? You had brought so much joy and light into his life well before “The Year of Birthdays,” your laugh and smile chipping away at the walls he had spent 70 years building around his heart. And now to have you consistently showing how special you thought Bucky was week after week. It was overwhelming in the best way.
Now, it was almost one year later and one week before Bucky’s actual birthday, and you were dragging him down the hallways of the compound for his final surprise. You had made it through a whole year of making up for the time he had lost. And your smile never faltered. If anything, it seemed to have grown as each week passed, just as the pile of cards in the box underneath Bucky’s bed had.
Next week the gang was going to have a party for Bucky’s birthday, so this was unfortunately going to be your last celebration with just the two of you.
The thought causes Bucky’s heart to sink. He spent all this time groaning and complaining about how much of a show you put on every week, but he was going to miss it when it was over. He had grown to love celebrating his birthday. You had made him feel more appreciated than he had in over 70 years, and he didn’t know how he could ever return the favor.
He was going to make sure your birthday and every birthday after was fucking amazing. That one thing was for sure.
The two of you make your way outside of the compound and down to the patio. Normally it’s lit with tiki torches and lanterns but is now covered with string lights, and the table in the middle of the space is covered with dozens upon dozens of mini cupcakes.
Bucky barks out a laugh at the sight of it, still somehow surprised yet again at your work. His reaction causes your smile to brighten even more and you guide him to the table.
“I ordered 100 of them,” you say, and Bucky narrows his eyes at you. “I know, I know, you only missed like 80 birthdays, but I figured you should collect interest for lost time.”
“Interest in the form of cupcakes?”
“That, and I got a better deal for the larger order.”
Bucky chuckles, shaking his head at the display. The table was littered with so many colors, so many flavors of cupcakes. He didn’t even know where to start.
“Doll, you don’t seriously think that we’re going to be able to eat all of these, do you?”
You shake your head. “Definitely not. But the rest of the gang will help with that later. We’ll do as much damage as we can until then.” You wink at him and Bucky can’t help but smile.
In the middle of the field of cupcakes lies a card. Seeing it fills Bucky with so much dread thinking about the idea of this year coming to an end. As much as he hated to admit it, he was going to miss all of your ridiculous cards, all of the adventures you came up with.
He was going to miss spending so much time with you.
Taking him away from his thoughts, you grab two of the cupcakes in front of you and hand one to Bucky. You extend yours to him and he gently taps his against it.
“Cheers to you, Buck,” you say, eyes locked on his. “I know this has been a long year for you, but I appreciate you putting up with me to see it through to the end.” You toss the whole cupcake in your mouth, grinning at him.
Bucky smiles back. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy myself, Y/n.” He brings the cupcake up to his lips, then pauses, looking back to you. “Seriously, though. I know I grumbled and rolled my eyes at pretty much everything we did this past year, but it has been the best time of my life. I can’t even begin to express how grateful I am that you did all of this. It means more than you know.”
You beam at him, the smile on your face turning into one of wonder. Bucky winks at you and finally eats his cupcake.
You spend the next hour eating as many as you can, reminiscing on your birthday adventures. The time you went ice-skating and how Bucky felt like you were going to break his arm with how tightly you were gripping onto it. The two-hour road trip you took upstate to a small shop that had ‘the best damn maple donuts you’ll ever try in your life, Buck.’
“Be honest, Buck, which one was your favorite?” you ask, picking up a red velvet cupcake. “Was it the time we went to Texas Roadhouse?”
Bucky grimaces. “You mean the one where you made them sing me a happy birthday in front of everyone in the restaurant? I’m going to have to say no to that one, sweetheart.”
His favorite weekend was the one when you both went out dancing. You had found a bar that had different themes each weekend, including a 40s-themed night. You wore a green peplum dress and somehow nailed styling your hair in victory rolls and hot damn that red lipstick you wore…You took his breath away.
You barely knew the dances, but Bucky tried to teach you the best he could, and laughed every time you accidentally stepped on his toes or stumbled into a couple next to you.
Then when the slow songs came on, Bucky would take you in his arms and you would rest your head on his chest, and he swears those were the happiest moments of his entire life.
He’s about to bring up that weekend but is too distracted by your giggle as you’re biting into one of the red velvet cupcakes, a piece of buttercream frosting hitting the corner of your mouth. Without thinking, Bucky extends his right hand and wipes it away with his thumb. Your eyes widen and he freezes, realizing how forward of a gesture it was.
He knows he should pull away, but the feeling of your lips under his thumb sends a ripple of heat down his whole body. It’s a sensation that he never wants to end. And by the look in your eyes, the shade of pink emerging from your cheeks, the way your lips part ever so slightly, Bucky can’t help but think you might feel the same.
A sense of boldness takes over as he rubs his thumb along your bottom lip, a surface you both know is clear of frosting. You let out the softest moan that Bucky is sure he wouldn’t have heard if he didn’t have super soldier hearing.
Then, your hand finds its way up to Bucky’s cheek and he feels as if his heart is going to burst out of his chest.
And when your eyes flicker from his piercing blue eyes to his lips, Bucky musters up every last bit of courage he can and leans forward, pressing his lips to yours.
A louder moan escapes you as your body sinks into his, and it makes Bucky’s head dizzy. Your lips taste like buttercream and vanilla, and so much more. They taste like his dreams coming to life, sunshine in the midst of darkness.
They taste like home.
Bucky’s eyes flutter open as he pulls away, heart melting at the dreamy look on your face as you give him a soft smile.
“Damn, Bucky,” you whisper, face close enough for him to feel your breath on his skin as you speak. “Had I known that this was all it took for you to kiss me, I would have been a lot messier when eating all those damn birthday desserts.”
Bucky lets out a low, grizzly chuckle that makes your toes curl. He strokes your cheek with his thumb as he looks at you with complete adoration.
“Well, doll,” he says, pulling away and grabbing another cupcake, holding it up to your mouth and rubbing some of the frosting on your top lip, “good thing we have enough of these to make up for lost time.” He leans forward again, taking your top lip between his and using his tonight to lick up the frosting. He smiles into your lips as a soft whimper escapes you.
The two of you continue this pattern, one person grabbing a cupcake and putting frosting on one part of the other’s (lips, cheeks, nose, neck) and kissing it away, both giggling at the pure bliss of it all.
After the tenth or so cupcake, Bucky takes your face in his hands and bares his eyes into yours. “This one,” he says and you furrow your brows at him questioningly. “This has to be my favorite birthday.”
You laugh, head tilting up to the sky as you roll your eyes. “Really? You sure?”
Bucky smiles. “Yep. This one definitely takes the cake.”
“Oh god,” you groan, this time throwing your face into your hands and Bucky laughs. “I can’t believe you just made such a terrible old man joke, Bucky.”
He shrugs. “What can I say, Y/n?” He waves his arm over at all of the cupcakes in front of you. “We just spent all this time celebrating over 70 years of missed birthdays. I am an old man.”
He cuts off your laugh with another kiss.
“Is it crazy to say I’m going to miss this?” you ask, leaning the crown of your head against his chest. “I’ve had so much fun going on all these adventures. Taking the time to show you how much you matter. How much you mean to me.”
Bucky’s arms wrap around you. “You know, we don’t have to stop going on these adventures together, Y/n. It’s not like we’re never going to see each other again. We just don’t need to have it be all about me. Hell, I’d love to take you out. Like, on a date.”
You lift your head up and look at him, a sparkle in your eyes that makes Bucky’s heart flutter.
“Really?” you ask.
“Of course, doll. Some of the places you took us were a lot of fun, and I’d love to go again with you. We’re never going to Texas Roadhouse again, though.” You laugh. “But going out dancing? I would take you out dancing every night for the rest of my life if I could.”
“As long as you’re okay with me making a fool of myself.”
Bucky grins. “A damn gorgeous fool.”
You smile. “I’d love that, Buck.”
“Great, what are you doing next Friday?”
“Bucky! Next Friday is your actual birthday!”
Bucky groans. “Can’t we skip that one?”
You glare at him with such intensity and Bucky clears his throat. “Fine,” he concedes, “Friday after that?”
Your glare turns into his favorite grin.
“I’m all yours.”
----------
Bucky walks into his room after kissing you goodnight, the final card in his hands. He takes it out of the envelope and smiles for what feels like the millionth time this evening. You had printed a custom card with a photo of the two of you from the 40s night celebration. His arm is wrapped around you and your head is tucked into the crook of his shoulder, both of you with the biggest smiles on your face.
He opens the card.
Happy Birthday to my favorite old man.
The best guy I know.
Who doesn’t look a day over 100.
Can’t wait to celebrate the next 100 with you.
...or until you get sick of me.
Fingers crossed that doesn’t happen anytime soon. ;)
<3 Y/n
(p.s. TECHNICALLY we only celebrated 52 out of 70-something missed birthdays. So, if you want, we could do this all again for another year. Sure it’ll end up being 104 birthdays, but let’s just say we’re counting interest to make up for lost time…..)
------
Thank you for reading! Feel free to check out my other stuff here. :)
If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me through my kofi account!
Summary: Canon!AU Bucky doesn’t trust anyone but himself. But after you show up on his doorstep with a shoebox full of old HYDRA files, he finds himself in a very difficult situation: trust a spy or gamble with people’s lives.
A/N: written for kas’ writing challenge - Believing they’re about to die, Character A confesses their feelings for Character B before they pass out.
Warnings: Canon Divergence (set during tfatws), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Semi-Explicit Sex (+16), Mutual Pining, Slow Burn-ish, Violence
DISCONTINUED - follow @redgillan-shares for updates
please consider supporting my work by buying me a Ko-fi
prompt: Character A is royally pissed off at Character B for being reckless on a mission. They don’t realize until after that amongst the screaming match, [A] confessed that they loved [B].
warnings: TFATWS SPOILERS, angst, bad writing, anxiety, canon-level violence, and brief mentions of Bucky not caring about his well-being/life :((
a/n: for @wkemeup ‘s 9k writing challenge! congrats kas, I love your writing so so much!!
this is my first ever fic, so im kind of nervous haha... i just went with the flow and finished it in an hour or so. hope its okay! enjoy!
“What the fuck was that?!”
Bucky has known you for what felt like forever--the two of you became immediate friends when he first met you through Sam when they needed extra help with the Flag Smashers. He was told you were a good friend, one they could rely on alongside Sharon, and he had hesitantly agreed; having been told “--we need all the help we can get Buck,” as Sam squeezed his shoulder in hopes to comfort him.
Lucky for him, the two of you made a great team, and the experience made your friendship form quite naturally in such a short period of time. After the whole Flag Smasher’s thing blew off and Sam taking the title of Captain America (“Nice one Cap,” you had cheered when he walked towards you and Bucky after his grand speech, making both men grin), you more often than not joined the duo to hang out or beat up some bad guys here and there.
It’s easy to say that he liked having you around; your personality was always refreshing to him, your bright eyes and excited gestures showing how much wonder you held for even the simplest things. And while you proved to definitely knew your way around a battle when fighting alongside him (even against super soldiers, he might add), you were always cheerful yet gentle, and your surprisingly blunt comebacks to Sam’s smart-ass remarks never failed to make him laugh.
--So imagine his surprise when you charged at him with the angriest expression he’d ever seen on you.
“What. The. Fuck.” You say again, poking harshly at his chest, emphasizing each word as you all but sneer at him. Your bottom lip was chewed between your teeth, and Bucky couldn’t help his heart from stuttering nervously at how dark your usual doe-eyes look.
He huffed a breath, a sharp pain blossoming in his chest, making him touch his rib area briefly--yup, definitely broken. He was exhausted, and you were too, both of you covered in layers of sweat and grime from the earlier explosion.
“Y/N, it’s alright,” He could only murmur, reaching for your arm slowly, making you flinch and step away. Bucky’s brows furrow at the movement, eyes nearly watering at your furious expression, anxiety clawing at his heart.
“No it’s not, James.” A sniffle, and he realized that behind your stiff and fiery expression was concern and something else entirely that he couldn’t name even if he tried. “You can’t just--Why did you do it?” Your voice broke in the middle of your sentence, tears now flowing freeing down your flushed cheeks.
Bucky doesn’t know what triggered that sort of reaction, but he moves to gather you in his arms anyways; his instinct to comfort you clouding the previous anxiety in his veins.
He hushes you and presses calloused fingers up and down your spine in soothing motions as you sobbed and struggled to get words out, to yell at him, to do anything, because you hated how clueless Bucky was. You hated how he almost died, and how he didn’t seem to realize or even care that he was this close to being swallowed up in flames.
“James,” You called again, your breathing rough and your voice strained with tears. He peered at you softly, sad blue eyes meeting yours briefly, and you resisted another sob in your throat. “You can’t--You gotta be careful--I can’t lose you.”
Though your words stumbled out quickly and too jumbled up, Bucky froze. Y/N’s head was pressed against the junction between his chest and metal arm now, her hands gripping the lapels of his suit tightly, and before he could reply she cut him off again.
“I can’t lose you.” Her voice was louder now, the anger returning. “Why do you always have to be so reckless? You could have gotten out sooner, why did you even stop running?!”
She pushes at his shoulders now, narrowly avoiding his bruised ribs, and though didn’t budge, Bucky felt hurt regardless. He’s never seen you so upset over something, much less him, and he didn’t know how to tell you that he almost didn’t care.
Bucky almost didn’t care if he died.
When the civilians were successfully evacuated from the building and the bomb on the west wing went off, effectively starting a fire just seconds after they got out, Bucky couldn’t help but stare into the brightness that seemed to spread all around him.
He remembers being frozen in place, watching the flames in a daze, and it was like something was pulling him under--muddling his thoughts and halting his movements despite the adrenaline rushing through his veins.
The only thing that snapped him out of it was you, pulling him by the arm frantically, a wild look in your eyes as you yelled at him to move Bucky, move.
“--I care for you, more than you know. Don’t leave, don’t do that ever again.”
“Wha--”
“I care for you. I care for you.”
Y/N’s words now echoed through his mind, breaking him out of his reverie once again. She kept repeating them, her voice becoming more and more quiet and she rocked back and forth in his arms, sounding like a broken record.
The woman he knew was now trembling and sobbing and barely holding on, desperate for him to hear her. Desperate to let him know how much he mattered, how much she cared.
It was at this moment when Bucky realized that her eyes had always held love in them, love for him, and tears began to bite at the blues of his eyes.
I hear you, he whispered to her, I’m sorry, and she nodded. He held her even tighter, stopping her rocking motions and stifling her sobs, kissing her forehead and her cheeks with chapped lips. He held her until they both stilled, until the sky met the horizon in an orange glow.
Summary: When someone bad mouths Bucky in your presence, you set things straight.
Warnings: Angst, but with happy ending, and one vaguely 18+ insult? I'm new.
Speaking of- @wkemeup has inspired me to post my writing for the first time! For their 9k writing challenge, I used this prompt:
"Character A is the target of harassment on the street. Shamed, they pretend it doesn’t bother them. Until it happens in the presence of Character B, who reigns hell on whoever dared to upset [A]"
Enjoy!
..........
Bucky was used to the whispers he got from people the street when he passed by them.
“Is that-?”
“Don’t make eye contact, he’s dangerous.”
“They just let him walk around like he hasn’t killed a bunch of people?”
His enhanced hearing picked up more than he wished it did. He liked to believe it didn’t bother him but deep down it did. It was just one more reason to stay secluded. Isolated. Alone. And he had been successfully doing that.
Until you came along.
Having been the test subject of a super serum version that focused on health and regeneration, you used your healing powers to help the Avengers get back to world-saving shape. Bucky hadn’t been keen on anyone touching him, much less someone he didn’t know. Despite his best efforts, he had caved in when you noticed he was having a bad day with his shoulder and offered to help. Since then, your companionship has been like a guilty pleasure.
You had this way of making him feel like he was the most important person in the world to you. Regardless of what he thought was evident, you only seemed to notice the good in him, even when he protested.
“There’s nothing I can do to right the wrongs that I’ve committed. Redemption isn’t possible. I don’t deserve-”
“Stop.” You said, cutting him off. “You are amazing. You have been through everything that you’ve been through and you still give back to the world. You fight for a world that made you this way, a world that gives you nothing back and yet you fight. It’s the world that doesn’t deserve you.”
Bucky swallowed hard. Looking at you in your eyes, he saw no dishonesty. Only pure admiration.
After that, there was no hope of him being alone. You cracked open his shell slowly but surely and now Bucky couldn’t imagine life without you.
Which led him to his current predicament.
“Come on, please? It’ll be so good and only a few blocks away. I know tapioca sounds gross, but you’ll love it!”
Bucky didn’t know what bubble tea was but apparently it was worth begging him for the past 20 minutes while you worked on his shoulder. Your hands emitted a warm white light as you gently massaged his shoulder. The direct contact wasn’t necessary but Bucky hadn’t complained when you started doing it and it’s become routine every since.
“I don’t know. I know I’m old but I don’t have to resort to tapioca yet.”
Bucky let a moment pass before his lip twitched up into a smile. You feigned annoyance as you cut off the healing and placed your hands on his shoulders.
“How about you go with me and I won’t bill the heck out of you for my magical five-star massages.” You say as you squeeze his shoulders.
“Okay okay, fine.”
Bucky put his hands up in defeat as he got up from the couch he was sitting on and turned to face you.
You swallowed as you let your eyes drift across his chest before you grabbed his shirt from off the back of the couch and tossed it to him.
“Alright! I’m so excited!”
Bucky listened to you chatter on about the different flavors he could try while he put on his shirt. Sometimes, he couldn’t believe he actually had a friend besides Steve. Sure, it helped that you had been Steve’s friend first. But there was something about you having grown closer to him that made him feel special. Never did Bucky think there would be a time that he’d be jealous over a girl that Steve was friends with rather than the other way around. Times were certainly different.
“You coming?”
Bucky broke away from his thoughts and made his way towards the doorway that you were standing in.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
---
Yeah, he knew this was a bad idea.
As soon as you two had left Stark Tower, the whispers started. While the café was only two blocks away, you noticed something was off a block into the trip.
“You alright?” You asked as you tried to decipher his facial expression.
“Yeah. Fine.”
You looked at him skeptically and then shifted your eyes to follow his, glancing around you. You slowly nodded in understanding as you looked at the people around you who were trying not to draw attention to themselves.
“Okay. We can talk about it later.”
Bucky was thankful that most people talked quietly enough so that you couldn’t hear what they were saying.
Keyword: Most.
You two arrived at the café, where it was slightly crowded. It was a warm afternoon, the perfect time to get a cool drink. Before heading inside, you gently placed your hand on his arm for a moment to reassure him.
“If you want, we could look at the menu out here and then I’ll go inside to order it.”
Bucky shifted his weight slightly from one side to the other as he contemplated it.
“Nah. We can go in together.”
“Okay.” you said, gently smiling to hopefully reassure him.
You both enter the building and make your way to stand in line. Bucky looked around at the seating areas. It reminded him of a Starbucks but with a more pastel color scheme. You looked at him and he raised an eyebrow in response. You smiled, happy that he was with you. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat and he smiled back.
That’s when you hear it.
“Is that that Hydra goon? Hey, go back to Siberia you brainwashed Hydra dog!”
You spun around violently the same time Bucky did with an incredulous look on your face, making eye contact with the college aged boy further back in line who was currently sniggering with his friends.
You stalked over to them before speaking in a low even tone.
“Sergeant Barnes has done more for the world than you could ever dream of doing. Apologize.”
You had let the venom creep into your voice, shouting the last word and silencing the rest of the line. Bucky walked up to you and put a hand on your shoulder, trying to turn your attention to him.
“C’mon. It’s not worth it.”
You let out a slow harsh exhale from your nose but didn’t move. The man only sneered.
“Why don’t you scurry along. I don’t care if you’re where he sticks his-”
The next thing Bucky registered was a nasty sounding crack as your fist connected with the jerk’s cheekbone. A round of gasps came from the surrounding crowd as he fell on the floor, completely dazed. You let out a pained grunt as you bent over, holding your hand while trying to cover the white light that started coming over your hand where the skin had bust open and something had definitely cracked.
“Okay, time to go.” Bucky said as he made an executive decision to get you two the heck out of there before anybody could react further. He put his hand on your back and quickly guided you out of the store, walking until you were out of the vicinity and almost back to the tower. You could tell that Bucky was not happy with you since he hadn’t said anything the whole way back. You entered the building and then stood silently in the elevator as it made its way up, refusing to meet his eye.
The elevator dinged as it opened up on the team’s dorm floor. You both walked quickly trying to avoid other people unsuccessfully as Sam stepped out into the hallway from the gym.
“Hey you two, what’re you… What happened to you?” He asked with a furrowed brow, nodding his head towards your hand as you walked past. Bucky and you answered at the same time.
“Nothing-”
“None of your business Sam-”
You gave Bucky a look and started chastising him.
“Hey, don’t be mean to him just because-”
“Keep. Walking.” He said through clenched teeth.
You rolled you eyes and shrugged apologetically at Sam as Bucky punched in the code to your apartment and swung the door open. He nudged you inside and then followed, shutting the door forcefully behind him.
Sam looked down the hall for a moment longer before shrugging it off. Natasha popped her head out into the hallway from the gym.
“What’s all the commotion?”
“Not sure. I think Mr. Tall, Dark and Metal left a few brain cells behind in the pod the last time he was frozen.”
Natasha snorted and then turned back into the gym.
---
Bucky closed the door behind him and then swung his arms out in confusion, giving you the same look of disbelief that he gives Yori when he starts a fight with his neighbors. You gave him the same look back, as if he was crazy for questioning your actions.
“What was that?” He finally asked.
“That guy was crazy! How could I not say something to him?”
“You didn’t have to hit him and hurt yourself! People say stuff like that all the time, you just have to ignore it and move on with your day.”
You stayed silent for a moment, averting your gaze and holding your injured hand that was gently glowing. Bucky gently let out his breath. He closed the distance between you and put his hand under yours to help you support it. His other hand grasped your forearm, gently moving over your smooth skin. He glanced down and watched as the inflammation went away and a bone shifted back into place under your skin.
“Please,” He whispered, his hold on you tightening ever so slightly. “It’s not worth all the trouble. It’s not worth you getting hurt.”
“No.”
Bucky snapped his head back up to see you calm and determined. Speaking again, you look into his eyes.
“It is worth it.”
He blinked twice, not having expected that answer.
“Why?”
“Because if I had let him say what he was going to say. Then to me, it would be validating anyone who has ever said anything like that about you. I can’t let you believe that any of that is true.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“But you do.” You cried out, slipping your newly healed hand out of his grasp and stepping away.
“I can see it in your actions, Bucky. I see it when you deny yourself anything that would make you happy. I see it when you try to hide yourself from the world. I see it when you look at me.” You spoke, voice wavering with the last sentence, averting your gaze again. Bucky stood silent as you continued.
“I see a deep sadness in your eyes. I can feel it in your soul when I heal your shoulder. Or when you touch my hand to see if I’ve fallen asleep. I can feel it emanating off of you. But I know for a fact that you deserve to be happy. You deserve to rest and to be happy. How many times have you fought a fight that wasn’t yours because it was the right thing to do? And don’t say it was to redeem yourself because I know it’s more than that. You are a good man, James. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone. But if you need to prove it to yourself than just take a look at me.”
You gently hold his face and guide it so that he’s looking at you. He’s surprised to find your eyes full of tears, threatening to spill over.
“When you look into my eyes, there is nothing but love and admiration for you. When you touch me, I feel the warmth you leave on my skin. When you hear me speak, you should be able to tell from what I say that I genuinely think you deserve the world. When you are hurting, the only thing I feel is your anguish. It kills me, to see you punish yourself so undeservedly.”
You were whispering now, looking up at him. Bucky’s eyes were watering as well, his jaw clenched in an attempt to hold back his emotions. With your hands still gently caressing his cheeks he slowly lowered his head so that his forehead was resting on yours, swallowing hard.
Bucky lifted his head slightly so that he could look at you and he saw nothing but love. Your eyelashes were wet and shimmering from tears you shed for him. Your cheeks were flushed from the overwhelming feeling that you had for him. He looked into the depths of your eyes and saw only his future with you. Finally, his gaze settles on your lips, soft and supple.
“Please,” you begged. “Please do not ask me to stand idly by as the world tears you apart. You are worth more to me than anything else in it.”
Slowly, his hands touch your waist and slide back until he’s holding you against him. Closing the gap between you, you kiss.
Nothing more in this world could assure him of your love. For once, he believes it.
(Repost!) Hello, this is for the lovely @wkemeup’s 9k writing challenge. I decided to go with the song prompt “Life in the City” by The Lumineers. It really reminded me of 40s Bucky.
Title: Brooklyn Honey
Summary: Life in the city ain’t always so pretty, but you’ve got Bucky and he’s got you.
Pairing: 1940s!Bucky Barnes x female!reader
Word count: 2.4k
Warnings: nah
***
“That’s so not how you do it.”
“Sorry, I must’ve missed the day you wrote the manual on how to put up curtains.”
“You sure did, and I can tell you as an expert, the nails aren’t supposed to resemble a mountain range.”
“Smartass. C’mere.”
Bucky’s palm opened and you took a nail, carefully tapping it into the wall.
“Or is it the skyline you’re going for?”
“You’re pretty mouthy for an assistant.”
“I keep it interesting, doll.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?”
“James Barnes, what on earth are you doing in there?!”
Your eyes went wide and you hurried to scramble off the chair you were standing on. Bucky put a hand on your back, shaking his head.
“Buck—”
“I got it, don’t worry. Keep hammering.”
“But—”
“Honey, don’t you trust me?”
“Absolutely not.”
More knocking, faster and louder this time.
“Coming, Mrs. Anderson!”
Bucky buttoned up his shirt, smoothing his pomade-slicked hair back, and went to answer.
You stepped down from the chair anyway, daring to peek around the corner.
He had his arms up, trying to fill the entire door frame and hide the obnoxiously yellow curtains you probably weren’t supposed to have. Mrs. Anderson, Steve and Bucky’s busybody next door neighbor, was a small, shriveled, old woman with a perpetually pinched face that looked like it had been stored in a jar of formaldehyde for the last twenty years. She kept trying to look over Bucky’s shoulder but he wouldn’t let her, moving when she did.
“—could’ve sworn I heard hammering coming from this apartment.”
“Oh! You must’ve heard me fixing my bike.”
“You don’t have a bike, James.”
“Did I say my bike? I meant Steve’s.”
“Steve rides a bike?”
“Absolutely. Keeps him fit.”
“I don’t recall seeing him ever—”
“Well, bye, Mrs. Anderson! Always a pleasure to see you, ma’am.”
She gave another stern look before shaking her head, walking away.
You sighed as Bucky shut the door with his foot, a too sly smile on his face.
“Didn’t I tell you to trust me?”
“I think you might be a worse liar than Steve.”
“Well, ouch, doll.”
“First of all, who’s ever heard of needing a hammer to fix a bike?”
“We can be the first.”
“Next time, I’m answering the door.”
You clambered back onto the chair, returning to knocking in the nails.
“I still don’t understand why you wanted curtains in the first place.”
“It adds a homely touch, doll. Aren’t you the one who’s always complaining about how drab this place is?”
“Of course, but it’s not my apartment.”
“It could be, with how often you’re over,” Bucky said sweetly.
“Keep dreaming, Barnes.”
“I will,” he assured with a smile that could melt butter.
You shook your head and returned to focus on the curtains. True, the first one was beyond help in terms of nail placement, but the least you could do was try and make the next one even.
Bucky had offered at least ten times to do it himself but there was no way he was getting his hands on a hammer after what had happened when he’d tried to install some shelves last winter.
Besides, you were better at decorating when it came down to it. At least, that’s what Bucky kept insisting, letting you do essentially anything you wanted to the apartment.
The chair suddenly groaned under additional weight and you startled as you felt the side of a body press against yours.
“How’s it goin’?”
“Bucky, this chair really isn’t meant for two people.”
“You sure? Seems pretty sturdy to me.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist and you fixed him with a look.
“What? Don’t want you to fall.”
“How valiant of you.”
“Ain’t it?”
He hopped off before you could scold him further, grinning up at you.
“Beer?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Bucky disappeared and returned a minute later with an open bottle for you, holding it so you could sip safely while still perched on the chair.
Then you kept hammering, eyes narrowed as you focused on not hitting anything other than the nail.
Bucky watched from the floor as you did so, leaning back on his hands.
“What’re you looking at?” you asked after a while, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.
He shrugged, a gentle smile on his face.
“The city.”
***
“Honey, I’m home!”
“What did I say about that, Barnes?”
“You said… you’ll love me for all eternity because you’re as sweet as honey?”
“I think it was more along the lines of, ‘don’t call me honey unless you mean it.’”
“I always mean it, Y/N.”
And that was a little more sincerity than you were willing to explore, so you pointed to the bag instead.
“What’s that?”
Bucky grinned, setting a giant paper sack on the counter.
“Lemons.”
“What?”
“Lemons. You know, the little yellow fruits that make you do this?”
Bucky puckered his mouth and smacked his tongue, eyes screwed shut.
“Lemon’s not a fruit.”
“It sure is! Fruit got seeds. Read that in a book about agriculture. We produce a lot of corn, did you know that?“
“Okay, Bucky, the presiding question still remains: why do you have every lemon in the city?”
“There was a good deal at the docks. Dirt cheap for produce. Some guys told me they were takin’ some home for their wives. Didn’t want you to feel left out.”
“I’m not your wife.”
Bucky just grinned. You rolled your eyes.
“I don't know who taught you this, but the way to a girl’s heart is not twenty pounds of lemons.”
“Think of all the lemonade we can make.”
“Unless you’ve also got FDR and his cabinet in those bags, we’re gonna have a lot of leftovers.”
“Look at it this way: no vitamin C deficiency. One less thing to worry ‘bout.”
“Bucky.”
“They’re not all lemons, doll. I got other stuff too. Tomatoes, cabbage, snuck some cucumbers, even bananas.”
You sighed, smiling tiredly. This ration was taking its toll on everyone. You knew Bucky was doing his best, had seen the vegetables and thought of you and how much you missed having cucumber salad and tomato sandwiches like you used to.
“Thank you, Bucky, really. I appreciate you.”
You brushed past him to begin preparing the excess vegetables you three wouldn’t eat this week to pickle. Salt and sugar was going to be hard to gather, but you’d manage. You always did.
“Welcome, doll.”
He beamed, eyes full of warmth as he watched you.
“You gonna stay for dinner?”
“I dunno. Seems like Steve’s gettin’ kinda tired of me,” you laughed.
You hummed, leaning your head on his shoulder, aware he was talking about more than the lemons.
“Yeah. We always do.”
***
Steve had been home for a while, wordlessly letting you in when you’d shown up an hour ago. You didn’t have to explain anything to him anymore.
The record player was on, crooning gently. Steve was in the corner, drawing, away from the window after the breeze had whipped his papers around one too many times.
“Can’t believe they’re building another skyscraper down on Lawrence.”
Steve frowned.
“Really? Won’t be able to see the sunset now.”
“Yeah. And Brooklyn’s not exactly known for its scenery to begin with. Saw a rat and a pigeon fighting over a pretzel this morning.”
Steve chuckled from the floor, shaking his head.
“Times are tough. Even for rats and pigeons.”
“Sure are.”
“Nice curtains, by the way. I like the color.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Did Bucky ask—?”
“No,” he answered, smile evident in his voice. “But that’s alright. I know he’s just tryin’ to gauge what you like.”
“What?”
“Yeah, after the war’s over and all, he’s gonna try and buy a nicer place.”
“And he wants my furnishing tips?”
Steve shrugged, gaze soft and knowing.
“Guess so.”
You cleared your throat, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear.
“Want some lemonade?”
“Jesus, there’s more? I thought we’d run out of bushels.”
“You’d think, right? I put ‘em in the icebox so they won’t spoil so fast.”
“Sure, yeah. Thanks, Y/N.”
You were in the middle of stirring the pitcher when Bucky came in.
He didn’t greet you or Steve immediately, like he usually did, instead setting down his keys, then slapping the mail onto the table.
“Well, hey there, mister. Fancy a drink? Today’s special is sour lemonade, your favorite.”
Bucky looked up, startled, and glanced at the pitcher before nodding, attempting a half smile.
“Sure, doll. Thanks.”
“Everything okay, Buck?”
He nodded, slipping away to the bathroom with a sigh.
You turned to Steve, who shrugged.
“Long day at the docks, I guess.”
***
June twelfth. That was when Bucky was being shipped out, somewhere in Europe, too far from you. This entire year you’d been holding your breath, hoping, needing the draft to leave him alone.
Now they were taking him away from you in less than a week.
You were in the apartment, lying on the floor, on Bucky’s second to last day. That’s how he found you upon coming home.
“Trying to count all the cracks in the ceiling, doll? You’ll be here all night.”
You had a glass of lemonade by your head, spiked with a bit of rum. It was already warm, because it was summer and things were supposed to be warm in the summer.
The curtains danced in front of the window, yellow like sunshine and all those goddamn lemons in the freezer. The only respite from an otherwise colorless world.
“This city is so ugly.”
Bucky looked up at the sound of your voice. He walked over, crouching by your arm.
“Think so?”
“Yeah. Can’t find a single pretty thing in the city.”
“I can.”
“Can you?”
“Sure. She’s looking at me right now.”
“That was sappy.”
“Yes it was.”
Bucky lay down, rolling onto his side next to you, taking a sip from your glass.
“But I ain’t mean it any less.”
You hummed, closing your eyes.
“Well, for what it’s worth then, I think you’re handsome.”
“Oh, yeah?”
You could hear his proud smile.
“Don’t make me take it back.”
“No, I’m just surprised to hear it is all.”
“Surprised, huh? I’m certain I ain’t the first one to call you handsome.”
“You’re the only one I wanna hear it from.”
Something fluttered in your chest.
“What d’you say then? You and I, think we can take on a city as ugly as ours?”
He smiled.
“With you, doll?”
“Yeah.”
“With you, of course.”
“Good. I’m gonna hold you to that.”
Bucky propped his head up on his elbow. It was quiet again, with only your occasional sighs and his quiet breaths.
“What’re you looking at?” you breathed, opening your eyes.
“You.”
Bucky flicked a drop of lemonade from the tip of your nose.
You turned, now face to face.
And oh, Bucky’s blues. Those had been your color even before the curtains.
“I’m gonna miss you,” you blurted.
He smiled a little sadly.
“Gonna miss you too, Y/N.”
You pushed your lips together, taking a deep breath.
“You were right, you know.”
“‘Bout what?”
“That day when you brought home all those lemons. You said that I stay for you.”
Bucky’s lips quirked, gaze fond like it always was.
“All those times I stayed for dinner and pretended to know what I was doing putting up those curtains. I stayed for you.”
You wiped your nose quickly, sniffling.
“And I’m gonna keep staying.”
“Yeah? What if the bridge collapses tomorrow?”
“I’ll swim.”
“Even in the winter?”
“I’ll get myself a pair of ice skates.”
“You don’t know how to skate, doll.”
“That’s right. So you better come back safe and teach me.”
Bucky leaned in, nose brushing your cheek. He rolled over and carefully straddled you, holding his weight.
“I’ll be there, honey.”
“Now what did we say about that?”
Bucky’s eyebrows pinched in thought.
“Don’t say it if I don’t mean it?”
You hummed, pulling him closer, arms around his neck. Bucky’s lips were a millimeter from yours, breath fanning over your chin.
“Mm, I think it was something about eternity.”
Bucky was soft, tangy and sweet. His scruff scraped your cheek and your fingers curled into the baby hairs at the nape of his neck.
He slid his hands under your back and turned so you were on top, head on his chest. You lay like that for a while, listening to his heartbeat, arms strong around you.
Yellow fluttered in the breeze, tacked unevenly onto the wall, catching your eye.
Bucky glanced to the side, chuckling.
“Don’t let Anderson take our curtains away.”
“Of course not. I spent a weekend on those. She’ll have to fight me for ‘em.”
“Good God. Now I gotta worry about you brawling with old ladies and Steve getting into alley fights while I’m gone?”
“Nah. Steve’ll help me.”
“Oh, great.”
You reached up, brushing his jaw with your knuckles.
“Call me honey again.”
“Honey, honey, honey.”
You reached up to get just one last kiss, except it definitely wasn’t going to be the last. It couldn’t be.
“They’re not gonna take you away from me.”
Bucky shook his head, kissing you much slower this time, trying to memorize you before time ran out.
“Never. ‘M gonna think of you and I’ll be back ‘fore we know it.”
You nodded, wishing hard, hoping somebody was listening.
“Then, when I come back,” he whispered, promise riding on the summer air.
“We’re gonna make the best damn lemonade you’ve ever had.”
And maybe this city could take away your sunsets, your tea and jams, even your summer.
But if there was anything that was yours and yours only, it was the lemon pulp on Bucky’s lips and the undissolved sugar on your own, as bitter and pretty as home.
A/N: So I’m writing for Bucky now...☺️ I wrote this for @wkemeup’s 9k writing challenge but also not? I’ve had the idea in my head for a while now so I thought I’d participate! I included the prompt, but it’s not so much the plot of the story so much as just part of it. Anyways, happy reading!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Avenger!Reader
Summary: After a long time of mutual pinning, a night on the dock helps you and Bucky finally confess your feelings for each other
Word count: 4.5k+
Warnings: Swearing, reader gets catcalled, violence, excessive usage of the middle finger
Prompt: Character A is the target of harassment on the street. Shamed, they pretend it doesn’t bother them. Until it happens in the presence of Character B, who reigns hell on whoever dared to upset [A]
---
You awoke to your head bobbing on the car window and the sound of crunching gravel as the car pulled into the driveway of Tony’s lake house. Your neck ached from leaning over in a strange position for so long and you groaned as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.
Bucky grinned from the seat beside you. “Sleep well?” he asked, nudging your calf with his foot. “You got a little drool there.”
“Oh, shut up.” You stuck your middle finger up in his direction. “I slept very well, actually. Thank you for asking.”
“I can tell.” You lifted up your other hand to flip him off again, causing him to chuckle. “Ooh, two middle fingers. I’m really scared now.”
The two of you were too busy teasing each other to realize that the car had stopped and Sam and Natasha had already gotten out of it. A knock on the window your head was resting on made you turn around, seeing Sam’s face a little too close for your liking.
“Are you two gonna stop flirting and help us with the bags or should I let you bake in the car?” he asked. With a roll of your eyes, you opened the car door, making sure to bump Sam in the process. Bucky felt heat rise to his cheeks, glad that you weren’t looking over towards him to see it. “I’m taking this silence to mean that you do want to roast in the car.”
“Sam, would you shut up?” you laughed, casually sticking a middle finger up behind your back as you walked past him to the trunk.
“You and these middle fingers today,” Sam muttered.
“I have another one if you’d like to see it.” You grabbed your backpack and slung it over your shoulder.
“I’m good.” He picked up his bag from the ground before heading towards the house, which the rest of the team was already situated in. You went to grab your suitcase but Bucky swatted your hand away, grabbing it himself and closing the trunk.
“I got it,” he insisted like the true gentleman he was. As much as you wanted to argue, you knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere.
“Why thank you, good sir.” You bumped his shoulder with your own and walked ahead, jumping up the three steps to the porch and opening the door.
“All in a day’s work.” He lifted the suitcases up the steps with ease and slipped past you to get inside. The feeling of air conditioning inside the cabin was a major relief from the heat outside.
“Glad to see the lovebirds finally showed up,” Tony said once you and Bucky were completely inside the cabin.
“You better watch out, Tony. Y/N’s got middle fingers for days over there.”
“Shut up, Sam!”
A chorus of laughter rang out throughout the cabin and you made sure to shoulder check Sam as you passed him to get to the kitchen.
---
“Okay, I have the perfect plan to get you and Barnes together this weekend,’ Natasha said as she pulled out clothes from her suitcase. You two were sharing a room for the week and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not. You loved Nat to death but lately she had been trying especially hard to get you to make a move on Bucky and it was only slightly annoying.
“The perfect plan, huh? Even more perfect than the last perfect plan?” You raised an eyebrow.
“I forgot to account for the fact you both have a tendency to wake up at ungodly hours in the morning last time. I promise it’s foolproof this time.”
“Well then, let’s hear it.”
“Alright. Before you got in here--you know, when you were busy flirting with Bucky.” She winked, to which you rolled your eyes. “Well Tony was talking about taking the boat out and going tubing. So what we have to do is get you and Bucky to go on the tube together. Tony’s a crazy driver so you’ll get thrown off pretty fast. Bucky will get so worried he’ll just have to confess his love to you.”
“Two issues.” You pointed a finger at her. “One, how am I going to get Bucky on a tube? It will be hard enough to get him on the boat alone. Two,” You held up another finger. “why would he confess his love at that very moment? That’s insane.”
“One,” She grabbed one of your fingers and put it down. “he’s whipped for you. I guarantee that if you ask, he’ll do it without a second thought.”
“Sure he would,” you scoffed.
“Uh, I know he would.” She gave you a knowing smirk. “Two, he gets worried about you all the time and I’ve seen him get close to confessing every time. We just gotta push him over the edge.”
“Bucky getting protective is just him being my best friend. He used to be just like that with Steve too.” You put your arm down, shuffling over to your own bed to take some clothes out of the blue suitcase on top of it.
“No, it’s definitely more than best friend love.” She moved to sit down on your bed.
“Either way, it usually ends in some kind of fight and I’d like to avoid that this weekend.”
“Who’s he gonna fight? Tony?”
“I mean, you never know.” It wouldn’t be the first time.
~
“I can’t wait to get back and shove these things in my mouth,” you said with a grin as you exited the bakery behind Bucky, a bag of donut holes in your hand.
“Gee, really? It’s almost like you haven’t been talking about it for the past three days,” Bucky chuckled, reaching for the bag.
You pulled the bag away from him with a fake scoff. “Oh, I don’t think so, mister. We have to wait until we get back. The anticipation makes them taste better.”
“You’re insufferable.” He elbowed your side and you stuck your tongue out at him.
“Damn, you looking fine over there, mama!”
You took in a sharp breath. It wasn’t all that uncommon for you to get cat called while out and about. You were in New York City, for fucks sake. That didn’t mean that it made you feel any less uncomfortable, though.
As much as it stung, you didn’t want to start anything. You stared straight ahead and prayed Bucky didn’t hear it. Much to your dismay though, he stiffened next to you, subtly glancing back to see who was talking to you in such a vulgar way. Damn that supersoldier enhanced hearing.
“Hey, sweetcheeks!” You felt a tug on your shoulder. “Didn’t you hear me?”
You huffed, shaking the harsh grip off your shoulder and picking up the pace. You expected Bucky to keep going with you so you continued walking, frowning when you noticed he wasn’t beside you anymore.
“Listen here, you little shit,” Bucky seethed, stepping in front of the man and blocking you from his sight. “She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you. Leave her, and every other woman you ever lay your beady little eyes on, alone.”
“And what’re you gonna do about it?” the man smirked. “She need her boyfriend to defend her?”
Bucky stepped closer, crossing his arms and giving the famous ‘Bucky stare.’ “Doesn’t matter who I am. You better back the fuck away before I make you life hell.”
A few onlookers started lingering around, some with their phones out and recording the scene, almost as if they wanted to see a fight break out between the two men. ‘Winter Soldier vs Everyday Pedestrian was sure to be trending somewhere soon enough.
“Buck,” you said quietly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and ignoring the obvious stares you were receiving, most notably from the man whose face Bucky was ready to punch in. “Let’s just go.”
You could see the gears turning in his head, trying to decide if he should let it go or punch the living daylights out of the guy. He let out a soft sigh after a moment, relaxing into your grip. With one last look at the man, he turned around and placed his hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you forward.
“Aye, it’s all good. I’m sure I’ll see that tight ass ‘round here soon anyways.”
That was the last straw for Bucky. He growled with a ferocity you hadn’t heard before and whipped around, not even hesitating to use his metal arm to punch the guy. The crowd gasped, more bringing their phones out to capture what was sure to be a great fight.
“What the fuck was-” Bucky grabbed him by his collar, pushing him up again the exposed brick of a restaurant.
“There’s plenty more where that came from and, judging by the way you’re looking at me, I bet you don’t want to see it. So do the rest of humanity a favor and fuck off.” He let go of the man’s collar and stepped back, unclenching his fist and pivoting back towards you. “Come on, doll.”
You shook the shock off your face and fell into step next to him. His arm warped around you, pulling you into his side. You could feel the fumes radiating off of him as you walked back to the tower, choosing to stay quiet as you let him cool off.
You paused once you reached the entrance of the tower. Tony probably already knew about what happened and he sure wasn’t going to be happy about it. Bucky’s media presence hadn’t necessarily been bad lately, but it wasn’t perfect either. The public was still wary. To many, the Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier were still the same person.
Things definitely felt off when you entered. You got the side eye from a few people in the elevator and you weren’t sure if it was because of the fight fiasco or because of how tightly Bucky was holding you to his side.
“Want to eat these in my room?” you asked once you stepped off the elevator.
“Sounds good.” His voice was distant as his eyes searched the room.
“Mr. Barnes,” FRIDAY’s voice startled the two of you, making you drop the donut holes. “Mr. Stark has requested to see you in his office.”
Bucky sighed. “I’ll be there in a few.” He picked up the bag and handed it back to you. “Apparently, I have business to attend to.”
You simply nodded. He went in the other direction towards Tony’s office pausing at the door before knocking. You sent him a thumbs up before he went in, but he didn’t look back at you to see it. You retreated to your room, placing your wallet on the dresser and popping a donut hole in your mouth.
“Maybe I should get a plate,” you wondered aloud. You needed to grab your water bottle anyways. Might as well make the trip. You put the donut holes on your bed and started making your way to the kitchen.
“She’s perfectly capable of handling herself, you know.” You couldn’t help but stop as you heard Tony’s voice through the door of his office.
“But she shouldn’t have to.” Bucky sounded stressed and you could only imagine the hell Tony was reigning on him. “Her ignoring him wasn’t going to do anything. I didn’t want to beat the guy up but he was harassing her and it needed to stop.”
“And this doesn’t have anything to do with any particular feelings you have for her, right?” The sarcasm was heavy in his voice.
“Tony-”
“I don’t want to hear it, Barnes. You know how the public sees you. I don’t know how we’re going to fix this.”
“That guy harassed her! I couldn’t stand there and just let it happen!” God, you wanted to give him a hug so bad right now.
“I don’t care what it was, Bucky. Having heart eyes for Y/N doesn’t mean-” You took that as your cue to leave. You grabbed a plate and two water bottles from the kitchen and made sure to take the long way around to your room in order to avoid whatever was going on between the two of them.
Bucky showed up a half hour later, plopping down next to you on your bed with a little more space than usual.
~
“I’m just saying, it could work.” Nat got off your bed. “The cookout’s starting soon. Put on something cute.” She was gone before you could respond, leaving you to look for an outfit that would, as Nat liked to say, “knock Bucky off his ass.”
---
“Ooh, Y/N, looking to impress someone?” Sam called out as you walked out into the backyard. It seemed that most everyone else was already out there, helping make dinner or sitting on the dock.
You stuck up your middle finger in reply, knowing exactly what he was trying to do.
“Oh stop it, Sam,” Wanda said as she walked towards you. “You look amazing!”
“Aww, thank you! You look absolutely stunning yourself.” Wanda reached out her hand and nodded towards the dock, urging you to come with her and join the group. You grabbed it and let her drag you down there, giving a small wave to Bucky as you passed him near the grill.
Bucky waved back, a grin spanning the expanse of his face at the sight of you. He kept his gaze on you as you made your way down to the dock, not even realizing just how intently he was staring.
“Someone’s staring at you,” Nat said with a suggestive smirk once you were close enough to the dock.
“He has a starting problem. We all know that,” you argued, sitting down across from her.
“I don’t know. He looks like he wants nothing more than to-”
“Nat, I love you, but please shut up.” She raised her hands up in the defense and Wanda giggled.
“I’m just saying.”
“You okay over there?” Steve shifted his focus from the burgers to his 100-year-old friend for a second, of course noticing the sudden silence that ensued the second you entered Bucky’s line of vision. “Buck?”
“Huh?” Bucky’s head turned sharply in Steve’s direction.
“You alright?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” A shy smile.
“Are you going to ask her out soon?” He flipped some burgers over and pulled the lid of the grill closed.
“I’m getting to it, yeesh,” Bucky chuckled.
“That’s what you’ve been saying since forever.”
“And it’s what I’ll keep saying every time you pester me about it.”
“Well if you don’t make a move soon, maybe I’ll swoop in-”
“Nope! You will not do that.” He nudged Steve in the shoulder and started making his way to the dock. “You absolutely will not do that.”
Soon. He was going to do it soon.
---
“Who’s next?” Tony called from the driver’s seat of the boat. You handed Sam a towel as he got back on the boat, drenched from flying off the tube a second earlier.
“You should go with Bucky.” Wanda nudged you with a teasing smile. You glanced over to the man in question, seeing him sitting next to Steve. He wore a t-shirt and swim shorts with a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, and he looked damn good.
“I’ll go,” you announced, standing up and taking your t-shirt off, leaving you in your favorite swimsuit and a pair of shorts. You handed Wanda the shirt so it wouldn’t get wet. “Anyone wanna go with me?” Wanda jabbed your leg and gave you a playful glare.
“Go with her,” Steve muttered to Bucky, bumping his shoulder with his own.
“I don’t know, Steve.” Bucky sighed. Steve rolled his eyes, knowing that his best friend just needed a little push.
“Bucky will go with you,” Steve said a bit louder than necessary. Bucky groaned quietly at his friend, taking off his sunglasses and putting them in his seat. He made sure to give Steve a certain look before making his way towards the back of the boat. You both grabbed your life jackets and started securing them as Sam moved out of your way.
“Cyborg!” Tony called out. “You going to take your shirt off?”
You felt Nat snort as she helped you off of the back of the boat and onto the tube. “Yeah, Bucky. Why don’t you show off your muscles for your girlfriend here.”
“Nat!” You paused for a second to look back at her with fake betrayal.
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” He snapped the last clasp on the life vest and checked to make sure you were all the way on the tube so he could start getting on.
“Oh, come on, Buckaroo!” Sam laughed. He started a chant of “take it off” with the rest of the team (even you, though you’d never admit it).
“Fine,” Bucky grumbled, hastily taking off the life jacket and shirt. He threw the shirt to the middle of the boat and resecured the lifevest, ignoring Nat’s hand offered out for help as he climbed on the tube. His famous Bucky glare melted off his face the second he saw your bright smile and he found himself smiling too.
“I don’t know how well this is going to go but it’s gonna be fun,” you said as he grabbed onto the handles.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Tony’s a crazy driver and we’ve never been able to get you on a tube before. I’m betting you’ll fly off in the first three minutes.”
The tube jerked forwards before Bucky could say anything else. You started picking up speed quickly and soon enough, Bucky was holding the handles with a death grip. You ended up being right and about two minutes in, you hit a wave that threw him off.
“Are you okay?” you asked in between laughs as he struggled to get back on.
“Yeah,” he muttered, a hint of annoyance on his face. You threw a thumbs up to Tony, who nodded and started moving again. “It’s like he’s trying to throw us off.”
“Well half the fun is falling off.”
“You people have strange ways of entertaining yourselves on Sunday afternoons.”
“What would you suggest we rather do then?”
“I don’t know. Something that doesn’t involve giving myself whiplash for ‘fun.’”
“You’re such an old man.” You let go of a handle to smack his arm. Of course, at that exact moment, you hit a wave strong enough to throw both of you off. You shrieked as you flew off of the tube before smacking the water. Whether it was the lack of paying attention or a scheme by Nat and Steve, the boat kept going, leaving the two of you floating in the middle of the lake by yourselves.
“Where are they going?” You furrowed your eyebrows, though a grin was still evident on your face.
“Are you okay?” Bucky ignored your question as he swam over to you, worriedly grabbing your face and checking for injury.
“Buck, I’m fine,” you said, though you didn’t do anything to stop his injury check. He sighed and looked towards the direction the boat went. It seemed that they were already long gone.
“That shriek had me worried there for a second, doll.” His hands dropped from your cheeks and you found yourself missing his touch.
“No need to worry. I’m all good over here.”
“Good.”
A lull of conversation fell over the two of you as you treaded water. You slowly moved closer, noses almost touching when Bucky glanced down to your lips. You nodded. I want this too.
His lips brushed over yours: eyes closed and hands dipping under the water to grab your waist.
“There you are!” you heard Sam’s voice shout. You quickly separated, looking awkwardly down at the water as you tried to focus on anything but each other. “Thought we lost you. Didn’t interrupt anything, I hope.” He smirked at Bucky.
This time, it was Bucky flipping him off.
---
You tried to be quiet as possible as you tiptoed through the hallway, hoping that you wouldn’t step on any particularly squeaky floorboards in the dark. You started opening drawers once you made it to the kitchen in search of a flashlight. Did Tony even own basic technology like that?
“What are you doing, doll?” A soft voice broke you from your thoughts. A pair of blue eyes stared back at you.
“Did I wake you up?”
“No.” He shook his head.
“Oh, okay.”
“You look like a deer in headlights.” His lips turned into an almost smile. “Are you running away?”
“Just down to the dock. Need to clear my mind.” Nightmares.
He nodded. An unspoken understanding. Maybe that’s what made you such great friends.
“Mind if I join?”
“Sure.” You finally found a flashlight and grabbed it, sliding the drawer shut with your hip. You slid the glass door to the porch open, leaving Bucky to follow you out.
Warmth surrounded you as you made your way to the dock. The humidity was atrocious during the day but at night, it was somehow comforting. The buzzing of bugs in the surrounding woods brought you a level of peace that the hum of air conditioning inside couldn’t. You sat down at the edge of the dock, dipping your toes in the cool lakewater.
Bucky sat down next to you a moment later. Your silence contrasted with that of the busy summer night, but it was comfortable. Nothing needed to be said; the presence of each other was more than enough.
“You know,” he started, his gaze not leaving the shoreline across the way. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”
You glanced over to him for a second, taking subtle notice of his features when his guard was down. The dark circles under his eyes mirrored yours, yet he looked relaxed.
“And what if I don’t?” The slight stain of your voice didn’t go unnoticed by him.
“I’m not going anywhere.” His head turned to meet you eyes. The soft upturn of your lips and content sigh told him that was the right answer. Your hand inched closer to his, your pinkies brushing on the splintered wood of the dock.
“How do you always know what to say?” Your gaze followed his across the lake, catching sight of a few deer grazing on the grass at the edge of the woods.
“I guess being alive for 106 years has to give me some kind of wisdom, right?”
You snorted, breaking the quiet atmosphere the two of you had created for the first time that night.
“I dunno. You’re still kind of a dumbass.”
“And you're still kind of a smartass, so where does that get us?” A grin spread across his face and there was no sight you loved more.
“God, I love seeing you smile.” A blush coated his cheeks at your words and he prayed you couldn’t see it in the dark of the night.
Your hands inched closer for a second time that night. A metal hand reached across to grab yours, his other arm going around your waist to pull you closer. Your head rested beneath his chin as he rubbed circles into your side.
“Thank you,” you mumbled after a few minutes of quiet.
“For what?”
“Your face.”
His chest rumbled with laughter and he squeezed you just the slightest bit tighter. “Glad I could be of service, doll.”
“Seriously, though . . .Thank you for being around. I know we joke around a lot but it really means a lot that you’re willing to sit out here with me.”
“I mean, technically, it was more of me inviting myself than putting myself through the torture of sitting here with you.”
You pulled away from his chest, shifting yourself so you could look at him better. “For real, Buck.” You put your hands on his cheeks. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Just do it, Bucky. Now’s the time.
He let out a breath as he smiled, looking anywhere but in your eyes as he contemplated what to do next. The hand not holding your waist came to brush back a piece of hair that had fallen in your face.
“Can I kiss you?”
You looked shocked for a moment, leaving him to wonder if he’d been reading it wrong all along. “Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I thought that-”
You cut him off, pressing your lips against his. Your hands moved to wrap around his neck as his grabbed your hips. It was everything you needed and yet it still wasn’t enough.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this to happen,” you breathed once you pulled away. This grin on your face mirrored his as he pressed his forehead against yours, wanting to keep you as close as possible.
“Actually . . . I think I might.” He dipped back in for another kiss, this one a bit softer than the first, but just as passionate.
A sudden breeze swept through the night and you shivered. It would have been a relief from the heat if you weren’t already having chills due to the man in front of you.
“Let’s get you back inside, doll.”
You were reluctant to let go of him. The moment you’d been waiting for for so long finally happened and you felt yourself scared to be too far from him.
You shifted your weight back so he could get up, not realizing just how close to the edge of the dock you were. Bucky let go of your hips before you could warm him and you felt yourself falling backwards in slow motion. A small yelp left your lips and Bucky’s attempt to save you was futile as your hands slipped through his.
“Cold, cold, cold!” you chanted once you surfaced, barely hearing yourself over how loud Bucky was laughing.
“Are you okay?” he choked out in between his laughter, kneeling at the edge of the dock and holding his hand out towards you. You grabbed his hand with a glare.
“I have half a mind to yank you in here with me.” His eyes widened at your words.
“Don’t you dare!” You tugged his arm lightly, just enough to get his face closer to yours.
“I guess I can spare you. Just this one time.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling yourself up onto the dock. “But I think I deserve a hug for my troubles.”
“Can’t deny my girlfriend that, now can I?” He pulled you into a hug, cradling your head on his chest and pressing his lips to your hairline.
“I’m your girlfriend, huh? Damn, we’re moving fast! Do you have the wedding planned already?”
“Oh please. I think we all know we’ve basically been dating for a while now.”
“Perhaps.” The two of you stayed in that position for a moment longer before another breeze came. “Should we go in now that we’re both wet and cold?”
“That sounds like a fantastic idea, doll.” Keeping an arm around each other, you slowly made your way back to the cabin, already making plans for a proper date once the trip was over.
---
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