#fuckin hope it looks that way at least god i doubt my ability to replicate expressions fuck you autism *shakes fist*

[hai-nae]

baby, i wanna touch you. i wanna feel you in my bones.

boy, i'm gonna love you, i'm gonna tear into your soul. OR, s'ok to be a little pathetic in the face of adoration.

[imaginetonyandbucky]

I love the idea of bucky and winter being two separate personalities, sadly there's not much about it. Can any of you explore that a bit more please?

A/N: There are parts which hint at past non-con, though nothing explicit.

The common room is silent except for the soft breathing the Soldier can hear thanks to his enhanced hearing abilities. There is someone sleeping on the big couch, and the Soldier needs to walk past them before he can reach the kitchen.

We still need water an’ some snacks, so move it, asshole.

He takes a few steps, and observes the small figure, curled up and wrapped up in two thick blankets, one with Captain America’s shield printed all over it and other plain red, hair mussed in an adorable way and eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks.

Soldier considers this.

His expression does not give anything away, even though he is not currently being observed. His heart, however, starts beating harder. He wants to reach out and touch.

Touch.

Don’t you dare.

He closes his eyes, and breathes. Hindrance.

He looks around, and frowns. The common room is the least protected area of the Tower. It is still very well protected, but the Soldier knows people who could override it. He cannot risk leaving Tony, his Tony, here all night. If it were up to him, he would bundle Tony up in his arms and carry him up to his room— Barnes’ room— where he could protect him if something were to happen. But he knows that would not be welcomed.

Damn right it wouldn’t. Fuckin’ creep.

He settles for carrying him to the genius’ own bed. He picks him up, with his blankets which he clearly likes, and takes the elevator to the penthouse, the AI taking him there without him having to say anything.

As Soldier tucks him into bed, Tony blinks his eyes open and he makes an adorable, scowling, confused face. Then he seems to have come to an understanding as he pats the Soldier on the cheek clumsily, his hand falling right away and eyes closing.

Soldier thinks Tony is asleep once again, but he is wrong.

“ Thanks, Wint’r.” He murmurs, and promptly turns his back to fall into deep slumber. He can feel Barnes scoff.

Winter considers this.

(Watch out for the break!)

***

Bucky, contrary to popular belief, isn’t a complete asshole. Sam would say his acting out in various ways to various people- especially the ones he cares about- is a defence mechanism. Sam is a fucking asshole. Bucky wants to punch him half the time, and punch him repeatedly the other times.

He might be right, though. At least in one case. Sam can’t know that he is right, either way.

Another punching bag goes flying through the gym, landing on the other side of it with a thump, Bucky’s hands aching despite the gloves he had used, his metal arm whirring angrily at him for having used it so recklessly, but fuck the arm, Bucky is pissed, he is really pissed, he is so pissed that—

“Uh. Sorry. Thought Steve would be here, can’t find him anywhere.” Tony looks like a deer caught in headlights, his eyes meeting Bucky’s way later than it should, stuck on somewhere on his torso. Bucky would be flattered if he wasn’t so damn angry.

Bucky gives out a bitter laugh.

“Steve or the Soldier? Bet it’s the latter, huh? Well, he’s not around, so you better leave me the fuck alone.” He hisses, almost, making Tony flinch though Bucky can see he tries to hide it. There’s a flash of hurt in his eyes, but it’s quickly replaced by something defensive.

He crosses his arms, and opens his mouth. “I wasn’t—“

“Save it, Stark.”

Bucky starts pounding away at the other punching bag, trying to ignore the intoxicating and distracting presence of Tony at his side, no matter how much he wants to apologize for being a dick, he knows he has the right to be pissed— it is his body after all, and the Soldier is but a habitant in it, and Tony liking him better is just so fucking unfair.

He is forced to withdraw his fist and hold onto the punching bag so it doesn’t hit Tony when he places himself right in front of him, looking determined.

“What do you think you’re doin’? It could have hit you!”

“Well, maybe that would make you listen.”

Bucky gives out a frustrated growl, running his flesh hand through his sweat-soaked strands, and makes a point to not meet Tony’s beautiful, fluid Bambi eyes that will probably get him to his knees in a second.

He almost flinches when he feels a hand on his shoulder, not able to handle the contact right now.

He pulls away harshly, making Tony back away quickly, and summons his murderous glare that he knows never works on Tony.

“Stay away from the Soldier.” He warns, and promptly turns back to stalk away.

I’m afraid he will hurt you. I’m afraid that he could be capable of love.

He doesn’t say those.

***

“No, you see, it’s not that Harrison Ford isn’t a great Deckard, but the ramifications of Replicant slavery weren’t throughly explored in the— ouch, dammit—” Tony jumps up and down as he blows on his burnt hand, and the Soldier is out of his seat in an instant.

Tony is reckless. Soldier makes a point of this as he gives him a dissatisfied look, and explores the burn which is fortunately not bad.

“No distractions when you are working.” He warns, and brings Tony’s hand to his lips, placing a light, but lingering kiss to where the smouldering iron had briefly touched.

You can’t be serious.

“You can’t be serious,” Tony pulls his hand away, a blush colouring his cheeks as he turns his back to him, flustered.

You made him uncomfortable, I told you to fuckin’ keep your hands to yourself, you piece of shit, he will hate us now—

He tunes Barnes out, because he is not as insecure. He can see that Tony is not mad.

So he waits.

“Why are you doing this?” Tony turns to face him, expression vulnerable, and lower lip quivering. Soldier reaches out and brushes his thumb against it.

“I love you,” He states, no hesitation in his voice.

Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up—

He had been sure from the start, and there wasn’t a moment of doubt in his process of falling in love with Tony. He wasn’t like Barnes who freaked out at the thought of Tony rejecting him, or hating him, who was afraid of touching him in fears of hurting him. Soldier would not let Barnes, or anyone else, hurt Tony, so Barnes needn’t have worried.

Barnes had hurt Tony many times, though. Glaring at him, yelling at him. Soldier made him pay for it, as he didn’t let him come out for months when it happened.

“You—what?” Tony looks panicked, and almost burns himself again, so Soldier takes the tool out of his hand, placing it somewhere far where it cannot harm Tony.

“I love you,” He states again, tone no different from before. It is only statement, a fact. It doesn’t matter if Tony loves him back or not, because Soldier’s purpose is to take care of Tony, and to love Tony, whereas Barnes wants all these, but also to be loved back. It is not a problem for the Soldier, it is enough that Tony is around him. He doesn’t have conflicting feelings, self-hatred, or self-doubt.

He knows himself, and he has no illusions of being good for or worthy of Tony. He can only serve him. Barnes’ suffering comes from this. He thinks he can be loved. He hopes for it.

“Winter.” It sounds like a warning, Tony rubbing the bridge of his nose and looking troubled— but not dissatisfied, Soldier notes.

Winter notes.

“You can’t—you can’t say stuff like that,” He sighs, he looks slightly panicked, and scared, and a bit hopeful, but Winter can’t quite understand what Tony is feeling. He had been good at that so far. “He hates me. Like, honest to god hates me, and if he’s hearing— don’t know if that’s how this stuff works— he’ll literally come to murder me at night—“

“I wouldn’t let him—”

“No, let me finish, my point is, you two are different. I know that and I— you are amazing, and sweet, but you share the same body with him, and I don’t understand how one part of you hates me and the other— feels, that way.” He finishes in a breath, all the while refusing to meet Winter’s eyes.

Jesus, doll, how can you think I hate—

“He’s a hindrance. Can’t accept me and also himself, so he lashes out to you. Do you want me to stop letting him out?” Because Winter can do that, if it will make Tony happy.

This is my body, you fucking—

“No! No, God no, don’t even suggest that. Don’t ever say that again, Winter.” Tony’s tone is final, and harsher than his usual way of speaking. Winter doesn’t insist, but can’t really understand the sentiment behind the words as he just wants Tony to be free of the pain that Barnes inflicts on him.

He can feel Barnes relax.

***

They are both drunk after the Christmas-induced euphoria that made the Avengers throw a in-family party in the common room, drinks flying and Thor’s Asgardian mead having no trouble making both Steve and Bucky drunk off their asses. Steve’s slouched in some corner and laughing at a joke attempt Bruce, who is for the first time in forever seems relaxed, happy, and even Natasha’s relaxed, her usual ready-to-fight stance is at minimum.

“Cold.” Tony remarks, carelessly getting to his feet and making his way to the elevator, wanting to go up to his room and get some blankets, ignoring the various hums of confirmation from his teammates.

He frowns and turns around to see someone stopping the elevator doors from closing, and the next second Bucky is coming in, pressing Tony to the wall as the door close and kissing him senseless.

Tony makes a surprised sound, but is quick to wrap his arms around Bucky’s neck, letting him hoist Tony up and wraps his legs around Bucky’s waist for good measure.

When they make it to the penthouse, Bucky drops him on the bed unceremoniously, hands going down to unbuckle his belt and Tony’s hands struggle to get rid of his own jeans as he watches Bucky hungrily.

He knows he shouldn’t do this, having hate-induced sex with Bucky when they are both drunk and Winter had just confessed to him months ago that—

Winter.

“Stop.” Tony barely manages to say as Bucky stops midway to Tony’s lips, Tony’s legs still loosely wrapped around him. His hand grips the sheets by Tony’s head tightly, self-control barely maintained, but he doesn’t continue. Tony almost expects him to.  “Winter,” Tony clarifies, hoping Bucky can understand he can’t do this without both of their consent.

Bucky watches him for a moment, eyes guarded but darkened. He closes them for a moment, sighs, and leans in to place a lingering kiss on Tony’s forehead before getting up and buttoning his jeans.

Tony wants to apologize, even though he knows that’s now how things work. Not anymore.

Bucky leaves without a word.

***

Bucky watches the scene that unfolds before him with an intensity that threatens to burst within him. They are at a charity event that Steve forced him to come for the team image, and it’s not Tony’s event but some asshole ex of his. Bucky doesn’t care enough to know the guy’s name, but he suspiciously looks like a predator, and Bucky thinks he and Tony didn’t end in good terms judging by the way Tony flinches when the asshole puts an arm around his shoulder, almost condescending and like he owns him.

Bucky remembers hearing Rhodey and Tony talk about a guy Tony dated in college, and how Tony was never the same after that. He remembers how surprised Tony looked when Bucky stopped.

Tony is quick to replace the look with something flirty and careless, smirk in place as he undoubtedly answers the flirting with a smart remark. The guy laughs, eyes glinting with something that makes the plates of Bucky’s metal arm whirl dangerously.

You love him.

Bucky is distracted momentarily, heart jumping at his chest. The Soldier had never intervened before. Never, once, he made his presence known when it was Bucky in control. Bucky always made running commentary when it was Soldier who was out, but this was uncharacteristic of the Soldier.

It’s because you don’t think I deserve to live.

Shut up, Bucky thinks. This is my body, not yours.

He can hear Soldier hum, and Bucky is seething with anger, but also with a pang out guilt that he can’t place, and is not happy with. This is his body, dammit, it is.

You love him.

Bucky breaths out, earning a concerned look from Steve who is sitting by him but he shuts him up with a warning glare.

Tell me something I don’t know.

I love him, too.

You are not capable of love. You are a monster and a murderer. You’re the reason I’ve became one too, and I hate you.

Yes. But I love him.

Bucky is hit with an understanding suddenly. He makes an inhumane sound, so low that he thinks even Steve can’t hear it, and he takes a sharp breath. It’s familiar, loving Tony despite everything he is, despite the goodness of Tony against his essential badness.

Shut up. Shut up.

Denial is harder to maintain now that he can feel the Soldier.

We should kill him.

Bucky understands immediately what the Soldier is talking about.

Not how the real world works, monster.

You want to. He hurt Tony once, you can see it too.

Bucky makes a fist and fights the response that is about to come out.

You do it.

Yes. And with that, Winter withdraws. He will wait for the right time, Bucky knows.

Bucky smirks, and feels an apprehension settling within him, an accepting of Winter, a realisation that they are not so different after all. He doesn’t like murder, but he will condone it in some circumstances.

Bucky won’t do it, but Winter will. They are different people sharing the same body. And Winter will never leave any traces.

He meets Tony’s eyes from across the room, tilts his drink and nods, a silent promise in his eyes.

Tony looks relieved, and gives him a small smile in return.

They are going to be okay.