"tunnel vision." bucky barnes.
summary: after a mission gone awry, the new avengers find that bucky wont even look them in the eye. can you imagine their surprise when they get back to the tower and now bucky’s all sunshine and rainbows once he sees you? yeah, me neither.
prompt: “nothing feels as good as coming home to you.” 🍒
pairing: newavenger!bucky x medic!reader
word count: 3k but writing it felt like two million
content contains: fluff, they’re in a relationship but it’s not labeled (secret relationship, you could say), the team is arguing but whats new, mentions of broken bones, reader treats bucky’s wounds, lots of suggestive content
authors note: day five of the galentines collab i think. i dont like this moodboard or the colours but i actually really enjoyed this fic. i miss the beatles. peace and love my brothers and sisters and hipsters
erin’s galentines collab masterlist
bucky barnes is closed off— everyone knows that, his new team included— but whatever had gone wrong during tonight's mission had seemed to shut him down completely.
it was supposed to be a clean in and out according to valentina. the team had been sent to san fransisco to retrieve a stolen cache of experimental technology from the ship yard before it left port. she'd given them very little information other than there'd be security and that she wanted it done clean and quickly.
but with not enough preparation, horrible coordination, and valentina's lack of any real intel, the mission had gone sideways and they'd almost been taken out several times. bucky had come dangerously close to losing his other arm, and when they finally got a look at what they'd risked it all for, he'd realised the 'stolen tech' was really just old stark industries prototypes.
after several grenade explosions, being shot at, being chased across a container yard, and falling into the bay, the team sat in complete silence in the jet on the way back to the watchtower completely empty handed.
yelena and alexei sit on one side of the jet, trading bitter looks and unamused complaints while ava sits just opposite them looking equally as annoyed. walker sits on his own a little further back, holding a rag to his leg where hot blood runs after a bullet had grazed him.
although they all sat apart with exhaustion evident on their faces after screaming their heads off at each other, nobody dared to sit anywhere close to bucky.
but then alexei breaks the silence, his voice irritatingly casual and loud. "you know, if you think about it, that really wasn't a horrible first mission."
yelena turns to alexei with the most confused face she could make. "that was complete dog shit, alexei. did we go on the same mission, or were you dissociating the entire time?"
"i'm just saying, it could have gone a lot worse!" he tries to defend himself, "we did our very best, and nobody died—"
"but we failed the mission." walker cuts in as he glares at alexei from across the jet, "look around, man. we didnt grab shit and now valentina's gonna be on all of our asses."
ava groans as she slides down in her chair, her arms crossing over her chest, "ugh, don't remind me."
"but we will have another mission to prove ourselves! we will be more successful and more strong next time." then alexei turns to the other side of the jet— the side where bucky sits on his own staring at the wall— and he gestures to him like he'll help. "right, bucky?"
bucky doesn't give them the light of day. he sits perfectly still, the dim jet lights catching on the grime caked onto his face and the tension hiding underneath his suit, his metal fingers tapping against his leg like a ticking bomb set to explode if they even looked at him wrong. there's something in the way he holds himself— unmoving, unblinking, and completely silent— that makes the rest of the team shift in their seats when alexei drags all of their attention to him.
"i just wanna get back and get away from you idiots." he mutters, voice flat and low, his eyes still locked onto nothing in particular.
although a little mean in hindsight, the team was a big part of the failure. they were uncoordinated, yelling into the coms, and trying to compete with each other the entire time. they were fighting each other more than they were fighting the opposition and bucky felt he had been left to pick up the pieces.
then ava scoffs. "yeah, i wanna get away from you guys too."
"tell us something we don't know." walker shoots back.
yelena groans, loud enough to cut through the hum of the jet engines. her arms fly up and fall back to her lap in a fit of annoyance. "alright, we all wanna get away from each other, so how about we all just shut up about it so we don't have to listen to each other?"
all of their grumbles and idle complaints die under the hum of the jets. even alexei slouched down into his seat, quiet for once as the weight of the mission and their dislike for each other presses down on him as well as everybody else.
bucky still sits in silence. his right arm flexes periodically, the flesh tough and corded beneath his sleeve. it's a conscious thing, something he'd been taught to true and relieve tension. his eyes are dazed and a little hazy, but it's not the fault of the fight— it's more like he's retreating inwards, like maybe his mind is on something else— or someone else.
only a few hours later, the jet touches down on the watchtower's helipad with a dull jolt, and it's only when the ramp slides out that the team pushes to their feet, dragging their tired bodies as best as they can towards the doors.
the elevator is painfully quiet, and the tension that sits in between them only makes the ride feel longer than it actually is. its a box full of glares and shallow breathing, and the moment the doors to the main living area open, the team topples out of the torture box, and the familiar quiet they stumble into is a sight for sore eyes.
the living room is dimly lit, most of the light coming from a small table lamp in the corner of the room and the night light of new york's skyscrapers outside of the window. you and bob are sitting on opposite sides of the coffee table playing a card game, and from the look on his face, you'd been winning.
and bucky, the man who'd been sitting in silence wearing a permanent scowl on his face ever since they stepped foot in the jet, suddenly looks a little... happier.
his shoulders drop a fraction. the soft frown crease in his cheek softens. the noise in his head dulls, like someone's turned all of the negative volume down for once. the mission, the arguing, the stress that wraps itself tight around his bones melts away at the sight of you.
at the sound of the teams shuffling boots and the soft thud of the elevator doors opening, the two of you glance up.
bob's face drops, a little caught off guard with how tired they all look. "what happened to you guys?"
and although bob continues to stare from his spot on the ground and his horrible hand of cards sit neglected on the table, you're already on your feet. the second your eyes land on john's leg— blood darkening the fabric of his suit and the rag clutched uselessly in his hand— your expression shifts, all of your warmth sharpening into focus as you reach for your lab coat draped over the back of a chair and pull it over your arms.
bucky shamelessly follows your every move from the moment you stand up to the moment you quickly walk on over to assess the damage that's been done to the team. your eyes land on his for only a moment, but the soft smile you send him is enough to make him feel better. then you turn to john.
"is that a bullet wound?" you ask calmly,?leaning down to get a closer look at his injury even though you already know your answer.
john moves the rag over so you can get a better look. "somethin' like that." he mutters.
"yeah, thought so." you hum, unimpressed. you straighten, already poking around in your pocket for supplies. "alright, let's go to my office."
you and john sweep past the team towards the elevator, you walking with confidence and purpose like this is routine for you— and it is— while john hobbles behind you, trying to best to keep pace with you.
the rest of the team parts for you without comment and watch the two of you pass, but bucky's eyes follow as you and john begin to leave, and his heart aches a little— not because he's jealous, but because he can't stop himself from wanting to be the one you're walking away with. every instinct and selfish part of him to yelling at him to just push through and take your arm like it always does when he decides you're where he needs to be.
so he does, because he's never been good at denying his urges when it comes to you.
"i'm going first." he cuts through the silence. the words are steady and low, and it's evident that it's more of a demand than a request.
you and john both turn, a little surprised— after all, bucky looks visibly fine and john's on the urge of collapsing. why would he need to go to your office first?
irritation flashes on john's face. "i've been shot, bucky."
bucky starts walking towards the elevator doors, hyperaware of the way everyone's eyes are on him, but only caring for yours. he presses the elevator button to the floor where your office is, and the doors open right away. he holds a hand to them to stop them from closing, then turns around to see everybody staring at him.
"if you can still walk and talk, then you're fine. i'm going first." he says to john, a little stern and annoyed, but then softer, he turns to you with a gentle smile. "right, doc?"
you blink, glancing between bucky and john. a tightlipped smile sits on your face, a little embarrassed because you know the team is going to make a big deal of this later.
"if that's okay with john, then it's okay with me." you say.
john scoffs, taking a weak step back and already turning around as if uou'd just personally insulted him. "fine. whatever. not like i'm gonna bleed out or anything."
bucky follows you with his eyes as you step into the elevator, every inch of him attuned to your movement, and he follows closely behind. and as soon as the elevator doors close, you turn to bucky with an incredulous glare.
"what was that?" you ask, your brows raised.
bucky turns to you, lip curling like he's unsure what you're talking about. he blinks a few times before he speaks, a little inflection in his voice giving him away. "what was what?"
"don't play dumb, bucky." you fondly roll your eyes. "why did you wanna get checked up on first? unless you've got some injury i cant see, it would've been better for me to see john first."
bucky turns his head away at the mention of john's name. if you didn't know any better, you would've thought they were sworn enemies. "walker's fine. it was just a graze. probably got hit on purpose because he wanted to spend some time alone with you."
you cross your arms against your chest. "he was bleeding pretty bad, buck, i dont think he did that on purpose."
there's a tick in bucky's jaw, and his metal fingers flex at his side.
"he's conniving. you don't know him—" bucky murmurs.
"i know him well enough." you counter gently, and bucky hates that it works. then you smile, teasing and trying to ease the tension. "and plus, john knows better than to try and take little old me from you of all people. he knows who'd win in a fistfight."
bucky turns to you, his brows knitted together. there's a long moment where he just stares at the side of your face as you stare at the floor sign, like hes recalculating everything he thought he'd been hiding so carefully.
the elevator door dings and they slide open. you waste no time in stepping out and setting pace down the darkened corridor, your office the only room illuminating any light. bucky is quick to follow you just as you knew he would.
"what are you—" he blinks, a little embarrassed as he falls into stride next to you. "nobody knows about us. i like to think i was good enough at keeping it between us like you asked."
you sigh. "i know you have, and i appreciate it, bucky— i really do— but you make it pretty obvious that there's something between us."
you push open your office door, the sterile light flooding the corridor. you gesture with your head for him to step inside, and he does without hesitation. this office is as familiar to him as it is to you, the smell of antiseptic and the scene of neatly organised chaos making him feel at home with you.
"i mean come on... i'm going first? you might not think so, but they're smart." you continue as you close the door behind you. "they probably think your hand is down my pants right now."
"it's not." bucky says immediately, almost defensive as he watching you walk over to your already prepped tray and pop open a new box of gloves. then quieter and with a tilted smirk on his lips, he adds, "but it could be if you wanted it to be."
you dont even look at him as you gesture towards the exam chair.
"real charming, barnes." you say dryly. "now sit down before i make you."
and he does, because for all of his bravado, he knows that when you use that tone, he has to listen.
bucky sinks down into the chair with a quiet huff. he reaches up and undoes the intricate clasps of his suit, the clicking noise filling the silence as you prepare your equipment. he removes his chest plate and places it down beside him, revealing the black tactical shirt underneath. you take into account the tears in the fabric and the dried blood near the fraying, and decide that's where you'll start.
you step closer, and the first thing that bucky noticed is the smell of your perfume covered by the scent of strong antiseptic. you start methodically, glove-covered fingers pressing into his skin and pausing whenever he tenses.
but he doesn't do that much, and he doesn't complain. he just watches you as you work, eyes fixated on your face while yours are fixated on his body, and you can feel his gaze burning into you as you work.
"what've you been doing while we were gone?" he asks, his voice soft as to not disrupt you from caring for him.
"nothing much. valentina wanted me to do some testing on bob, but i felt bad and i ended the session early." you dig your thumb into his collarbone, feeling some kind of crack underneath his skin. "does this hurt?"
"no." he says immediately.
you look at him, unimpressed. "bucky."
"a little—" he concedes, "but it'll heal in no time."
you sigh knowing he's right, and then you continue. "got some written work done, then bob got bored and call me down to teach me how to play 31, but then he got upset that i was better then him at it."
"that tracks." bucky says. there's a ghost of a smile sitting on his face, something warm and real that hadn't been present during the mission or on the jet.
you place a band-aid on a small cut on his jaw, a futile effort to patch up a cut that'll disappear during the night.
the smile fades and his shoulders sag a little in an almost boyish way, like the question alone weighs on him. "horrible. too many things going wrong at once. nobody knew what they were doin' and it was just... it was a mess. val's never gonna let us hear the end of it."
you frown. "i'm sorry, buck. that sounds like it sucks."
"it did." he nods, exhaling slowly like he's finally letting all of the tension and stress drain out of his body. his gaze flicks back to you. "but i feel better now."
your brows raise the slightest bit, and a small part of you thinks you already know why. "and why is that?"
"because i'm here now," he says simply, then softer— more certain— he adds, "and nothing feels better than comin' home to you."
his words hit deeper than you'd expected, and the bashful smile that creeps up on you is anything but subtle, the kind you dont wear around anyone but bucky. you duck your head, pretending to fuss with your equipment.
"this place is your home now? i thought you hated it here— especially my office." you tease as you pull off your gloves and toss them into the trash. "you said it smelled like old people, which is rich coming from someone who's lived three times longer than i have."
bucky's smile mirrors yours— soft, slow, and a little taken aback at your out-of-the-blue jab.
"it might as well be home. i mean, we do everything here— eat, sleep, watch movies..." he pauses as he thinks of something else you frequently do, eyes flicking to yours, "have mind blowing sex—"
"oh my god, bucky." you whisper as you try to restrain yourself from slapping a hand over his mouth. "there's cameras in here!"
his brows knit together like he couldn't care less, and he honestly really couldn't. it felt so normal to him— and he was proud of being able to do that with you— that he couldn't understand why you'd care about anyone knowing you have sex. "so?"
a breathy laugh slips from your mouth and you reach out to shove his shoulder. "you make it so hard for me to stay professional."
bucky grins, unapologetic and entirely pleased with himself as he reaches out for your wrist and pulls you in for a kiss, the tension of the day finally bleeding out the moment your lips press against his.
he couldn't care less about the cameras. he honestly hopes valentina sees it and knows that he's managed to swoop her smartest employee out of her hands.
but right now, bucky doesn't care about vengeance or stupid superiority over val; he cares about you and your warmth, about how you manage to feel like home no matter where he is, and how he can exist beside you and still feel like he belongs.
and maybe he'll take you up on that offer of sticking his hand down your hands later— who knows!
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