#kas9kwc

[burn-before-reading]

Long Ways Away

Bucky Barnes x Reader

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.

[loving-bucky-is-easier]

deadweight

leave what's heavy, what's heavy behind • one

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 12.6K (I know, I’m sorry)

Summary:

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.

[foreverindreamlandd]

Happy Birthday, Buck

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

WC: 3k

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. :)

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[redgillan]

They Could Never Tear us Apart - Masterlist

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

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do not steal, repost, translate

Chapter 1 Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4 

[dovemouth]

i care for you

pairing: bucky x reader

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. 

[sanguineterrain]

Brooklyn Honey - Bucky Barnes x Reader

(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.

“Never. ‘Sides, even if he was, doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, really?”

“Nope. ‘Cause you stay for me.”

“And where did you get that idea from?”

He shrugged.

“Seemed kinda obvious, doll. You’re smitten, admit it.”

“Oh dear, you’ve got me all figured out. However did you know?”

“I’m a bright fella.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You ain’t saying no…”

“Really, I have to say no? Can’t you tell I only stick around for the great deals you get on produce?” 

“But it’s me that gets the great deals, so really, you’re still staying for me.” 

Bucky was against the counter now, shoulder to shoulder with you. 

You sighed, hand on your hip as you stared at the table. 

“What the hell are we going to do with all these lemons?” 

“We’ll figure something out. Always do, don’t we?”

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.

[hanoella]

Deserving

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x healer!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

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.

[5-seconds-of-bucky]

The Dock

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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[picturetoburnnn]

Iubirea mea | Bucky Barnes x reader

word count - 5.1k

warnings - angst, fluff, depictions of blood and scars, violence, swearing

summary - enemies to lovers, idiots to lovers, all of this applies.

a/n - I wrote this for @wkemeup's 9k challenge, with the prompt: "Character A cleans Character B’s wounds after a rough mission. [A]’s fingers linger over scarred muscle as they finish wrapping the bandage." I'm super excited about this one, it's only my second Bucky fic pls be nice <3

Being the hero sometimes fucking sucked. But having a teammate who used to want you dead? That sucked even more.

Y/N could not stand Bucky Barnes. She tried her best to be welcoming to him when he joined as a rehabilitated, free man. She was willing to forget all the times he had been sent by HYDRA to assassinate her or her assignments. But her attempts at kindness were met with a sneer and cold shoulder. Eventually, she stopped trying. Every snarky comment that came her way, she had a witty comeback prepped and ready to go.

The rest of the team found it a little funny, but mostly aggravating.

“Can you two please just get along for this mission? You can go back to hating each other when we’re back at the tower.” Steve was visibly annoyed by the back and forth bickering. With the team all suited up and on the way to some far-off fight in the Quinjet, Y/N and Bucky were seated across from each other, verbally fighting like children.

“I’ll behave if he does,” Y/N said with a pointed stare at the former Winter Soldier.

“Just do your job, Y/N,” Bucky sneered. “I’m not dying for you.”

“Well me neither, Aluminum Foil,” she quipped. “I wouldn’t get a papercut for you.”

“Enough,” Tony groaned from the pilot seat of the jet. “We get it. You hate each other. Just remember your missions and don’t get anyone else here dead in the process.”

Y/N groaned, looking over at Natasha. “You see what I have to put up with?” she whined dramatically. Natasha just shook her head, not even bothering to hide her smile.

“Remember the goal.” Steve said, putting on what everyone else playfully deemed his ‘Captain Voice.’ “In and out. Get Nat to the main computer, extract intel, and out. No theatrics, no explosions.” He aimed that last part at Y/N with a sharp look, not forgetting her love for a good boom. After her exaggerated sigh of disappointment, he continued, “If all goes according to plan, they won’t know we’re there until we’ve already left.”

~~

“Yeah, that didn’t work out.” Y/N hissed as she favored her left leg. Supported by a disgruntled Bucky and worrisome Steve, she limped her way back up the ramp.

“I told you no explosions,” Steve reprimanded. “This wouldn’t have happened if you had listened to me.”

Y/N groaned as she sat down. “I wouldn’t have resorted to explosions if this ‘skeleton crew’ base hadn’t turned out to be fully armed and operational. You can’t really blame me.” She grinned as she spoke, despite the piece of metal shrapnel poking its way out of her thigh.

No one mentioned the fact that she had put herself in front of the explosion to push Bucky out of harm’s way.

“You’re benched.” Steve scolded, shaking his head at her antics. Even wounded, she managed to make jokes.

“Seems fair,” she groaned, grin falling from her face as she moved her leg just the wrong way to jostle the offending material. Beside her, Bucky winced at the sound of pain she let out.

“Only a dumbass like yourself would have managed to blow yourself up,” he mumbled as the pair of super-soldiers maneuvered to seat her on the jet. “You’re incredibly lucky this didn’t hit an artery.”

“Tin Man,” she crowed, “is that a hint of disappointment I hear? You wouldn’t want me bleeding out, now would you?”

“No,” he begrudgingly replied. “Not here, iubirea mea, where I’d have to clean up the mess. Would rather you died somewhere out there.” He vaguely gestured to the building that was now on fire, visible from the loading ramp.

“‘Iubirea mea,’ what is that, Russian for idiot?” Y/N hissed through gritted teeth.

“Romanian, actually.”

“The rest of the team is on their way out,” Steve interrupted with a sigh, bringing the conversation back to the matter at hand. “Despite someone’s best efforts, we did still get the intel we needed.”

You grinned as Bucky rolled his eyes.

~~

Two months later, when Y/N had finally been cleared by Dr. Cho, she was ready to train again. Eight weeks of bed rest and physical therapy hadn’t exactly been kind to her, and she could feel her muscles burn and ache with lack of use.

“Stark,” she called one day, limping into the kitchen. “Have you seen Sam or Steve? I wanna get back in the sparring ring.”

“Y/N,” the billionaire chided as he poured his coffee, “Sam and Steve won’t even think about going in the ring with you.” Y/N started to protest, but Tony quickly cut her off before she could even say anything. “You’re limping right now, I doubt anyone here, except maybe Barnes would go against you in the ring.”

At her devious smile, Tony knew he fucked up. “Y/N, Jesus, no, do not ask the Manchurian Candidate to fight you.” His words came too late. As if summoned, the former assassin came bounding around the corner, a grin on his face.

“Did someone say I get to fight Y/N again?”

In the ring, Bucky tapped his fists together, ready for a brawl.

“Don’t take it easy on me, chump,” Y/N taunted as she readied herself. “Give me everything you got--”

Before Y/N could even finish her sentence, her feet were swiped out from under her. She tumbled to the mat, finding her breath knocked out of her and a certain super soldier hovering inches from her face. “Were you not done yet, doll?" Bucky himself seemed surprised at the endearment that so easily fell from his lips, though he made no effort to take it back.

“Don’t know,” Y/N rasped. “Seems like you were done listening.” She coughed, trying to force air back into her lungs.

Bucky winced at the sound of her struggles. “Here,” he grunted, moving his body weight off her and offering his arm. “Let’s get you sitting upright.” Y/N eyed his right arm dubiously as he waited.

“If I were going to trick you,” Bucky began, “I’d offer you the metal one. Let me help you up before you asphyxiate, iubirea mea.”

“Didn’t know--” a cough-- “That you cared if I lived or died.” She took his hand.

“I care.” He hauled her to her feet. “If you die, I lose my favorite person to bully.”

Y/N rolled her eyes as she twisted open her water bottle. “Good to know I’m your human punching bag.”

Bucky gave her that rare grin that made ladies in the ‘40’s swoon. “Well, not a punching bag. Punching bags don’t usually fight back.”

“Oh yeah?” she quipped. “What would you call me instead?”

“Oh, I just wouldn’t call you.”

“Asshole.” She laughed. “Are you ever going to tell me what that insult means?”

She missed the longing look he threw her way as soon as she turned around. “Never.”

~~

“Someone get Dr. Cho!” Steve’s panicked voice rang out through the tower as he wheeled a half-conscious Bucky Barnes through the halls from the hangar. Y/N ran by his side, desperately trying to keep pressure on the wound in Bucky’s chest. There was too much blood. A normal man would be dead long ago, and he was still fucking bleeding. When the unlucky trio pulled into medical, the barren rooms reflected their desperation.

“Steve,” she pleaded, “just go find her, I’ll keep him alive until you do.”

The captain looked hesitantly between his friend and the woman who seemingly no longer hated him. In a moment of trust, he nodded and ran, leaving his best friend’s life momentarily in her hands

“You can’t die on me, asshole,” Y/N whispered, leaning down over his pained form. “Still need someone to pick on, and Sam’s too sensitive for our jokes.”

“You’ll be fine,” he grunted, eyes slipping closed. “Sam likes your jokes.”

A sharp pain across his cheek made his eyes snap open. “Did you just fucking slap a dying man?”

“You’re not dying on me.” It came out like a demand, a commandment. “Do you hear me? You will not die on me because I will resurrect your pale ass and kick the shit out of you. And you hate me, can you imagine having your dead ass being beat by someone you hate?”

“I don’t hate you, iubirea mea.” He groaned as his hand reflexively went to cup the gunshot wound that he couldn’t block in time. His hand covered hers before his eyes closed again.

“Buck?”

No response.

Y/N’s hands went up to cup his face. “Bucky? Answer me, chump. Bucky? Buck, you cannot fucking die on me like this, Bucky!”

She was in near hysterics when Steve returned with the doctor in tow. It took all of his strength to drag Y/N, kicking and screaming, away from the former assassin. Even after he was taken to the operating room, the woman still called out his name until Steve pulled her into a tight embrace, running a hand through her hair and resting her head on his shoulder. “He took that bullet for me, Steve. I wasn’t looking and he covered my back at the last second. He’s in there because of me,” she whispered in horror. “I did this, oh my god, Steve, he’s gonna die because of me.”

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered.

Steve still wasn’t entirely sure if the words were for him or her. He led her crying form to the seats across the room, where Wanda joined, then Natasha, then Bruce and Thor, and so on until the whole team sat in the waiting room, fearing the emergence of any kind of news.

Hours later, Helen Cho finally emerged, a saddened look on her face. Y/N stood from her seat in the lobby.

“I’m sorry,” the doctor lamented. “The damage done was too severe, we didn’t have enough time.”

Y/N sobbed, breaking down. How was she supposed to handle this? That was her argument buddy, her fighting partner. She never told him how she felt, that she actually liked being around him and was proud to be his almost friend. She never got to tell him how proud she was of his progress, how she was happy for him, and how he moved on, despite their playful jests. She never got to tell him she knew he didn’t hate her anymore. She never got to say--

“Y/N, wake up.” Steve shook her shoulder, and her head lifted from his lap. “Cho’s coming.”

The avenger bolted upward, ignoring the concerned, pitying looks from her teammates. She knew without looking she must have spoken in her sleep, giving voice to her nightmares.

The doctor came in, a smile on her face. “He’s stable. Not saying it won’t be rough for him for a little while, but he’s on track for recovery. If you guys want, he can take visitors as soon as he wakes up.”

A sigh of relief carried through the room, a collective solace in knowing that the White Wolf would live another day.

~~

It was a week later, and Y/N was briskly walking to her room, perfectly intending to spend the rest of her night off watching Netflix, when she heard a hiss of pain through the cracked door of the room adjacent to hers. She slowed her pace, creeping closer to the slightly open threshold to see a clearly uncomfortable, not to mention shirtless, Bucky Barnes attempting to wrap his own wounds in the mirror. Y/N shook her head, knocking the door open to make her presence known, and leaned against the doorway.

He turned to find Y/N watching him with a smirk. “Need help?”

The injured soldier scoffed, turning away. “I’ve got this.”

Contrary to what he said, he absolutely did not have this. The moment the words left his lips, his body twinged painfully, leaving him hissing in discomfort as he dropped the bandage wrapping he was trying to unroll.

Y/N rolled her eyes, pushing off the wall and entering the room. “Just let me help, Metalhead.”

Bucky grumbled something about I’ve been patching myself up for seventy years, dunno why I can’t just take care of it myself, but nevertheless sat down on the bed and handed her the supplies.

Y/N carefully replaced the gauze against his bare chest, fingers lingering a second too long over an old, healed scar above his heart.

“What’s this scar? From when you had your heart removed to be so cold-blooded?” Both of them knew her words held no actual heat or point, only serving to cut the awkward tension between the two.

He let out a half-chuckle. “No, that one was actually when me n’ Steve were younger, dude in a bar threw a glass at me. Thing shattered, part of it stayed sticking in me.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows in consideration as she reached for the wrapping. “Dude had the right idea. He tried to get rid of you early so I wouldn’t have to deal with you nowadays.”

“Oh yeah? What’s this one, then?” Bucky pointed to a large circular scar on her right knee.

Y/N took a moment to look down, remembering when it happened. “Went rock climbing when I was little. Got a little too excited and tripped when we got to the top, skinned my knee really badly, and the marks never really went away. How about this one, Cyborg?” She gestured to a thin line on the back of his ear as she secured the wrapping, reaching for the final pins to keep the bandage in place.

“Training, when I was…” he trailed off, not wanting to talk about that yet. A quick moment of silence, then, “Who did this to you?” He whispered, pointing to a long striping scar across her abdomen, what almost looked like a surgical scar. It was only visible because of her loosely cropped shirt.

Y/N laughed dryly as she finished securing the wrap and took a step back. “You may not remember this,” she giggled quietly, “but you actually gave me that one. The first time we met, in Chechnya, and you tried to kill the guy under my protection.”

“I remember that.” He gently reached out and ever so softly traced the thin line with his fingertips, watching as goosebumps rose in his wake. Bucky looked up at her. “The senator’s kid.”

Y/N snorted. “Yeah, the kid couldn’t stop screaming, even though I was the one fighting you.”

“You gave me this one in return.” Bucky lifted his arm to reveal a nasty-looking circular mark on his inner right arm. “Stupid taser batons.”

“Hey,” she defended. “Those taser batons let me disable you, Bionica, and because of that we both lived to fight another day.”

He playfully groaned. “I could have lived without that happening.”

“Hey!” she lightly tossed the remaining roll of bandages at his head, though he made no move to dodge it.

“Next time we met, you gave me this.” He pointed vaguely to a small nick on his side, barely even noticeable.

“That should totally not count,” she giggled, pulling up her shirt to reveal a gunshot wound just below her ribs. “This happened at that same hotel, thanks to you. You must be a shitty assassin if I managed to scar you literally every time we met. And this one,” she pulled her hair aside to display another knife-shaped mark on her neck. “This one is … um…”

“I remember.”

“That one hurt like a bitch,” she breathed, remembering its arrival on her body.

“Oh, you think that one hurt?” He questioned. He stood, only to pull the waistband of his pants down ever so slightly to reveal a thin but deep-looking mark on his hip. “Do you remember this one?”

Without thinking, without even giving herself a chance to think, Y/N reached forward and touched the jagged edges of yet another scar that she herself had given him.

“What about this one?” She pulled the edge of her shorts up enough to reveal the reminder of the day her mission went wrong, and she’d ended up with metal ripping its way through her skin.

“I remember that,” Bucky sighed.

“Yeah? It wasn’t that long ago,” she joked, trying to lighten the serious undertones that had suddenly fallen over the room.

“You got this because you pushed me out of the way,” he reminisced. “This was the day I realized…” he trailed off.

“Say it,” she whispered.

“That’s the day I realized I loved you.”

She inhaled sharply. Having a feeling he felt something and him actually admitting it were two very different things, she realized.

“This,” she murmured, gently placing a hand over his bandaged wound, looking up at him. “This is when I knew you loved me back.”

Bucky made no attempt to hide his glance down at her lips, and she made no move to avoid it when his hands gently cradled the back of her head, and his forehead touched hers as they stood in the middle of his room. “Tell me to stop,” he breathed.

“I don’t want to.”

No other words had to be spoken when his lips met hers.

It was slow but fast all at once, like time had slowed, turning moments into centuries and seconds at the same time. Every move of her lips against his felt like the heaven he had never known, the paradise he’d deprived himself of for far too long. Her hands crept up to his hair, holding him in place, as if he’d ever want to leave, ever want to move from this exact spot, here with her. He tugged her closer, because her lips against his weren’t quite close enough.

Until a sharp pain in his chest made him pull away, pushing a hand against his chest as he groaned.

“Heart rush, old man? Wanna admit how much you like me?” Y/N teased, dropping her hands out of his hair to drape over his shoulders.

“Not until you do,” he countered, meeting her eyes challengingly.

She grinned. “I love you.” It was the easiest thing she ever had said, as natural to her as her own name.

“I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.” Each proclamation was punctuated with a kiss on each cheek, forehead, and nose until he found her lips again with his final announcement. “I will always love you.”

His mouth found hers again as his hands found her waist, and it was like coming home.

Until Steve walked in. “Hey Buck, what do you think about-- Oh my god.” The pair jumped apart, standing awkwardly and avoiding eye contact.

Bucky quickly wiped his mouth before looking over at his oldest friend. “What’s up Steve?”

“I just… It can wait.”

“Steve,” Y/N laughed, “come in here and talk to your friend. He knows where to find me if he wants to finish our conversation.”

Bucky grumbled as he watched her leave, meanwhile Steve tried to avoid watching her at any cost. He stared directly at the floor as she passed, pointedly ignoring her uncontrollable giggles.

As soon as the door shut, Steve looked up at his friend. “Okay forget whatever it was I came in here for, tell me what the hell just happened.”

~~

Bullets rained down everywhere around them. Taking cover wherever they could find, Y/N and Bucky were officially in trouble. Y/N had run out of bullets a while ago, and her signature throwing knives had all been used a while ago. The well-loved taser batons were snapped in half by a super-human opponent that had required both of them to take down. And Bucky was on his last clip.

“Doll,” he called, his voice barely audible over the commotion and almost constant gunfire, even through your comms. “Doll, where are you? Talk to me.” The desperation was evident in his voice.

“Taking cover,” Y/N groaned, moving her injured left arm closer to her body. “Things aren’t looking good.” She took a peek over the edge of the crumbling wall she’d thrown herself behind. The rubble of the abandoned town still shook every few seconds from the intensity of Stark’s energy blasts, or from the Hulk’s footsteps as he attempted to smash his way through the enemy’s reformed front lines. Smoke hung in the air like a deadly reminder of what waited for those who didn’t make it out in time. Smoldering ash blended with the snow falling from the sky. If she closed her eyes and tuned out the battle cries, she could pretend she was back at that winter cabin Tony had rented for the couple last month, saying If I have to hear Barnes getting lucky through the walls one more time, I’m giving him back to HYDRA.

“Buck, I’m not sure about this one.”

“Don’t say that, sweetheart,” the soldier crooned as he rounded the corner, joining Y/N in her hiding spot. “We’ll be fine, we’ve survived worse.”

“Fall back!” Came the Captain’s voice through the comms. “There’s too many right now, we have to regroup and try again. Meet back at the rendezvous point.”

Y/N and Bucky met each other’s panicked eyes. They were far behind enemy lines. They had no chance of getting out, and it was too far back to risk one of their teammates coming to get them.

“Steve, that's not an option,” Y/N noted. “Tin Man and I are too far behind the line. We’ll meet you when we can.”

No response. “Steve? Tony? Anyone?” Bucky watched with wide eyes as Y/N touched a finger to her communicator, to no avail. The signal was lost. The pair were stranded back here, surrounded, and Bucky only had three shots left. The last bit of information was kept from Y/N.

“It’s fine, doll.” The century-old man put on a brave face and turned away, not daring to let her see the slight panic he carried. He knew her resolve would break immediately, that she would see straight through the slightest crack in his mask and understand his plan. Worse, she would fight against it. “When you see the opening,” he instructed, “run.”

“Buck?” She called, a sudden urgency in her tone. “Bucky what are you doing?”

“Barnes,” came a broken voice through the comms. “Y/N, Barnes, can you hear me, over?” Steve’s voice came through in spurts, but the message was clear enough. “Where are you?”

“Come get her, Steve.” Bucky’s normally stoic voice held the slightest twinge of unease as he stood, turning his back to Y/N.

“Bucky, Steve doesn’t need to come and get me, let’s get out together like always.” Y/N’s confusion was clear. She pulled herself to her feet as well, reaching a hand out to stop her lover, grabbing him by the arm.

“One minute out.” Steve knew what he had planned.

“I love you, doll,” he suddenly insisted. “You need to know that.”

“What are you doing?” she demanded, panic starting to creep into her voice as he still refused to look over at her. “Bucky please, come on we have to go, we’ll die. Let’s go, what are you doing?”

“I’m being the bait,” he breathed as he slipped his arm out of her comforting hold, “so you can get out of here alive.”

“W-what? Bucky, no! We can figure something out, please.”

“There’s no time,” he soothed, knowing if he turned around, there would be tears in her eyes. He hated that he was the one causing this pain for her, but it was the only way, he told himself. The only way she could make it out of there. Her life was worth fifty of his. If she made it out, then the mission wasn’t a complete and total failure.

She continued crying his name, even as he walked away from her, clearing the way. Even as Steve’s arms wrapped around her middle and hauled her away through the opening the dark-haired soldier had created, she never stopped begging Bucky to look at her, to think about what he was doing. But he knew what he was doing. He was saving her. That’s all he needed to do.

Even as her cries were drowned out by the wind, by the monsters, aliens, and every other damn thing on the battlefield, he kept fighting. Because the longer he fought, the more attention was on him, and less on her and the team as they got out. He was their scapegoat. So as every force against them converged on him, as he was circled by enemy targets, he was okay with it.

When the spear pierced through his chest, he was okay with that, too. As the pain echoed through his body, and blood dribbled from his lips, he was alright. She got out. It was okay, she would be okay. He fought his way to the ground, still using his metal arm and a seemingly endless supply of blades to fight off any creature that came close enough to him. But the aliens recognized a dying threat when they saw it, and stopped advancing on him. As if all at once, he watched his opponents turn away from him, looking for the rest of a fight they wouldn’t find.

The last thing he saw before the black spots invading his vision took over was a flash of red and gold, flying through the sky directly at him.

~~

Y/N held on tightly to Bucky’s hand from the safety of the medbay, eyes stained red. She had long since run out of tears. She could remember the pure panic she felt when Tony brought him in, seeing the spear jutting from his front, inches away from his heart. She was thrown back to that say so many months ago, where she pressed down against a similar injury that led to his confession of something other than hatred. Now here she was again, still holding his hand in the recovery room (although last time she fled just as the machines started registering him regaining consciousness).

A deep and fitful rest found her, plaguing her with nightmares of Bucky never waking up. In her dreams, she touched his face and begged him to come back, to try again with her, to just do anything, and his response was the same: a solid, monotone beep and flatline on the heart rate monitor.

On the tenth day of sleeping in an uncomfortable chair in the hospital room, she was awoken by a hand running through her hair.

“Y/N, wake up, love.” His gentle voice eased her out of her sleep.

This was one of the few dreams she looked forward to having. In it, her Bucky was alive. He held her hand as they danced through the living room of some far-off future home. Music played, smiles were shared, and she could almost pretend it was real if she couldn’t feel herself beginning to be dragged back to reality. “Bucky,” she called as her hand slipped from his grasp. Too far. He was too far away, and no matter how hard she tried to run to him, she seemed frozen in place. Calling his name continuously, her mind finally freed her from its unconscious grasp.

“Buck,” she whispered, rubbing her eyes. Then she froze, remembering her surroundings. “Bucky?”

“I’m here, iubirea mea, I’m here.” He smiled at her, just happy to see her face alive and well. His vocal cords hurt from lack of use, and a part of him wondered how long he must have been out.

She breathed his name in disbelief one last time before throwing her arms around his neck, holding him tight. She’d almost lost him twice now, her lifeline, her crutch. Once her opponent on every meaning of the word, now the absolute most important person in the world to her.

“You… you are not allowed to die,” she sniffled, face tucked into the crook of his neck while his right hand crept along her back, keeping her close. “It almost killed me.”

“Doll,” he breathed, ignoring the pain in his middle. “I’m alright. A little worse for wear, but--”

“A little?” She pulled just far enough back to stare him straight in the eyes, astonishment clear. “Bucky, you were run through with a spear. You’ve been out for a week and a half, your left arm was almost completely shattered, you cracked three and broke two ribs, and your concussion was so severe they weren’t sure if you’d wake up. That’s pretty severe to me, James.”

He internally winced when she called him James. Y/N only pulled that name when she was fucking pissed.

“But it could have been worse, doll. It’s a good day for me; you’re here, and that’s all I need.”

She didn’t fight him as he guided her lips back to his, though she had half a mind to stop him to scold his behavior more.

“I’d do it again,” he whispered between kisses. “If it meant you lived.”

“Baby,” Y/N breathed as he moved to her neck. “You dying would destroy me.”

“But you’d be alive.”

She grabbed his face with both hands, pulling him back to eye level. “Not without you, I wouldn’t be.”

Her eyes searched his, looking for understanding and finding nothing but devotion and sincerity in her wake. James Buchanan Barnes would follow her to the earth's ends and give her the moon and stars if she only asked. She had him, body and soul, wrapped around her finger, and he wasn’t sure if she knew the extent of that dedication. Giving himself up as bait was as easy as second nature for him when it was her life on the line.

“Iubirea mea, I’m here, it’s alright.” He gently reached out, placing a hand on her cheek and wiping a tear she didn’t even know had fallen.

“What does that even mean?” Her voice cracked as she half giggled the question, voice barely higher than a whisper. “You’ve called me that since I blew myself up, and have never told me. I thought it was an insult.”

“No, not an insult,” he chuckled. “It’s Romanian, one of my favorite phrases.”

She prompted him to continue with a soft tilt of her head.

“It means ‘my love.’ I’ve loved you since that day and I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

“Good.” Y/N smiled, and pulled his lips closer to hers again, hovering centimeters away. “Because I’ll never stop loving you either.”

Masterlist Found Here

[brooklyns-supersoldiers]

Drunken Confessions

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Warnings: Mentions of drinking/being drunk

Summary: You leave Bucky a drunken voicemail and try to delete it. It doesn't go quite as planned though.

(Loosely) Based on the prompt: Character A leaves an embarrassing, drunk message on Character B’s voicemail and spends the rest of the night trying to discreetly delete it from [B]’s phone.

Word Count: 1,239

A/N: Written for the lovely @wkemeup's 9K Writing Challenge. You picked some really good prompts so I may have some more in the works, consider that your warning haha! I just want to say I absolutely love your writing! Congratulations on 9K! I'm proud to be one of your followers and I hope you enjoy this!

~

A quiet “oof” followed by a giggle woke Bucky up in the middle of the night. He immediately sat up in bed confused as he tried to find the source of the sound before his eyes landed on you. You were currently on the floor, a hand pressed to your mouth to try and muffle the giggles spilling out.

“Shh… go back to sleep.” You finally managed to whisper after you realized you’d been caught.

“Why are you on my floor, doll?” Bucky asked you amused. It wasn’t unusual for you to end up in his room or him to end up in yours. You two have gotten extremely close over the past year since he joined the team. At this point the two of you were practically inseparable. He got up and offered you a hand which you gladly took, quickly glancing over at his phone once you stood up before focusing back on his face. Bucky raised an eyebrow, still waiting for an answer you realized.

“I got lost and then the floor attacked me?” You tried as you attempted to keep a serious look on your face. You failed and bursted into giggles once again causing Bucky to shake his head at your antics.

“How was the girls night?” He asked you as he sat down on the bed again.

You, Natasha, and Wanda had gone out on your monthly girls night tonight. It had quickly become tradition for you all to go out to blow off some steam once a month when your schedules could handle it. This night it consisted of the three of you hitting up a bar, catching up and having one too many drinks.

“It was fun.” You replied, inching closer to the nightstand where his phone sat. Bucky once again raised an eyebrow at you.

“How many drinks did you have?” He questioned trying to get to the bottom of why you were acting this way.

“Uhh…” You started counting on your fingers. “At least four? Unless shots count… then more than that.” You sneakily, or so you thought, grabbed his phone off the nightstand while you answered and started inching towards the door again. Well, that explained your behavior at least.

“I see. Why do you need my phone?” He asked and had to stop himself from laughing when you went wide eyed at the fact you’d been caught. “Ummm… I just need to borrow it for a second!” You managed to get out before trying to run for the door. Bucky was quicker though and grabbed you around the waist, pulling you close before you could even reach the door knob. You squealed and tried to escape his grasp.

“What are you doing with my phone, doll?” He asked again as he tried to grab it from you. You quickly clutched the phone to your chest for dear life, swatting his free hand away whenever it got close. Bucky let you go and you dropped to the floor, now trying to army crawl towards the door with his phone still clutched tightly in your hand. Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at your antics as he easily moved to stand in front of the door.

“Umm… could you move? I’m on an important mission.” You asked him, looking up when you realized he was blocking your exit. You bit your lip to hold back your giggles. Even in your drunken state you knew how ridiculous you were being.

“You want to fill me in on the mission?” He questioned, crossing his arms and trying not to smile, but it was almost impossible with how you were acting.

“It’s top secret. I’m afraid you don’t have the clearance.” You informed him. “Umm… I do need you to unlock it though. What’s your passcode?”

“I’m afraid you don’t have clearance for that. Let me see.” He told you as he grabbed it back while you were distracted. You yelped and immediately tried to grab it back. Bucky simply held it over his head out of your reach. After a few failed jumps, you gave up.

“Looks like I have a voicemail from you, doll. Should we listen to it?” Your eyes went wide at his question. Bucky finally was able to put two and two together.

“Oh, was that the mission? To delete it? We definitely have to listen to it now.” He teased as he unlocked his phone and immediately went to play it on speaker.

“Buckyyy!” Your slurred voice suddenly filled the room and you instantly cringed and sat on his bed. “Hi! We were just talking about you and I wanted to call you. You’re probably asleep. That’s okay. Not that you need your beauty sleep though. You’re always pretty.” There was a giggle and it sounded like you were telling your friends to be quiet as you held your phone away from them. Bucky looked over at you slightly shocked while you turned bright red, trying to avoid his eye.

“Anyway! Where was I? Oh yeah, you’re soooo pretty! I miss you! Like a lot. Ugh! Nat wants me to get off the phone. Okay, love you, Bucky! Byeee!”

Finally the message ended and an awkward silence fell on the room. You bit your lip and continued to stare at the floor. It was tame for the most part. You knew worse things could have come out of your mouth, but that didn’t make what was said any less embarrassing especially when you were sure he didn’t feel the same way. He only saw you as a friend.

“Doll.” He stated as he kneeled down in front of you, a soft look on his face. “Y/N, look at me.” You finally looked up at him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You told him before bursting into tears. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship. I was trying to delete it before you listened to it.”

“Y/N-” He started as he wiped away your tears before you interrupted him.

“It’s so embarrassing.” You mumbled. “I’m sure you don’t feel the same way. Let’s just-” Before you could continue to speak, he cut you off by pressing a kiss to your lips. You were caught off guard at first, but quickly returned it, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. It was everything you imagined and more. It was soft and sweet and left you wanting more.

“Did you mean it?” He asked quietly as he pulled away. “That you love me?”

“Yes.” You admitted, pressing your forehead against his. “I have for a while.”

“I love you too.” He whispered, placing another kiss to your lips and your heart swelled at the words. Bucky loved you too. “Now, I’d love to actually talk about this but it’s 2:30 in the morning and you’re also still a little drunk. How about we get some sleep and talk when we wake up?”

You nodded in agreement, starting to get up, but he gently pushed you back down onto the bed. You smiled and laid down on your side, getting the hint. You watched as Bucky moved around and got on the other side of the bed. His arm instantly wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to his warmth. You sighed contently, closing your eyes and quickly drifting off to sleep. Maybe your drunken voicemail wasn’t all that bad.

[loving-bucky-is-easier]

straight through the heart

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.4K

Summary: 

Before you could answer him, offer any explanation for your presence in his bathroom, the reflection of his eyes dropped to the reflection of your chest.

Or rather, it dropped to the reflection of crimson spreading across your bra, coating your fingers, beginning to trace down your stomach like dripping candle wax.

Warnings: 18+, angst, partial nudity (non-sexual), language, discussion of domestic abuse, discussion of attempted sexual assault, panic attack, allusion to PTSD, violence, injury and resulting treatment, a smidge of fluff -- please heed these warnings, as this may be triggering to some

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 #10 - Character A is studying a fresh, nasty scar in the mirror. Character B approaches from behind, eyes drawn to the wound, an unreadable mix of anger and fear in their eyes as they say, “Who did this to you?”

A/N: Just for clarity’s sake, this is not the sequel to Deadweight (sorry to disappoint). That fic is coming soon, but I wanted to wrap up this one first. Special thanks once again to @wkemeup for providing the occasion. Feedback is welcome and appreciated--comment, message, or send me an ask! Tags are at the bottom.

You jumped as the door flew open behind you, slamming into the wall with a crack that reverberated off the cool tile floors. Your hands instinctively flew to your chest, sending flares of white hot pain stuttering through your torso.

Fuck. Why hadn’t you locked the door? 

You weren’t really concerned about the modesty issue. Granted, your button-up shirt now hung limply around your elbows, having been unbuttoned down to your belly button and shrugged off your shoulders. Your bra was on full display.

At least its cute. You almost rolled your eyes at the vain part of you that would dare let a thought like that cross your mind at a time like this. What anyone thought of your bra didn’t matter. It couldn’t.

Not with sparks of pain tingling across your body. Not with fear and shame coursing through your veins like liquid fire. Not with your hands clutched to your chest as if your life depended on it, not making any effort to preserve your dignity, but pressing instead to your sternum. Not as blood seeped out between your shaking fingers, running down your wrists, dripping onto the cold white floor. And not as the piercing steel blue eyes of a super soldier with a metal arm locked eyes with you in the bathroom mirror.

Heat rushed to your face before he could even register his surprise. Bucky Barnes.

Strands of hair falling haphazardly from a knot on the back of his head. Forehead shining with sweat and face smeared with dirt and a little bit of blood that probably wasn’t his own. Chiseled stomach and chest on full display, the top pieces from his tac suit laying in a heap on the floor behind him. Thumbs looped in the waistband of his pants, clearly in the process of shrugging them down, revealing the top stripe of his boxers.

Under any other circumstances, you realized, you would have been drooling.

Maybe Nick was right.

“Shit! Sorry, I was just about to shower, and I...wait.” He trailed off, sliding his pants back up as realization dawned on him. “Isn’t this my room? I’m in the right room, aren’t I?”

Before you could answer him, offer any explanation for your presence in his bathroom, the reflection of his eyes dropped to the reflection of your chest.

Or rather, it dropped to the reflection of crimson spreading across your bra, coating your fingers, beginning to trace down your stomach like dripping candle wax.

His eyes widened and he surged forward, spinning you to face him, large mismatched hands gently gripping your biceps. “Fuck, Y/N! What the fuck happened? Are you—what...who did this to you?”

The line clicked. “Hey, Y/N, what’s up?”

You took a deep breath, trying to level your voice before you answered. The phone was shaking in your hand. “Hi Mr. Stark. I have a favor to ask of you.”

A sigh fell from the phone’s speaker, and panic surged through you. You didn’t have a Plan B if he said no. 

You didn’t need one, though. “Anything, kiddo. Always. But for the love, Y/N, you basically are Stark Tech at this point. How many times do I have to tell you to call me Tony?”

A small smile played at your lips. “Right, Tony. Sorry.”

“Great. We got that one. Now to get you to stop apologizing.”

“Good luck with that, sir.”

Tony’s chuckle crackled through the speaker. “What do you need?”

“Well...” Another deep breath. “My apartment is...being fumigated.” Thank God you didn’t have to do this in person. “I kinda need a place to stay for a couple days.”

“No problem. Let’s see, the guest wing is being renovated right now, so—”

“If it’s too much trouble, I can figure something else out,” you cut in quickly. 

Right. Figure what out, exactly?

“No, the fuck you will not! I—”

“Tony!” A sharp reprimand from Pepper, who must have been standing nearby, cut him off.

“Sorry,” he called, his voice distant as he pulled the phone from his ear. It returned in full volume as he continued: “Pep has asked me to clean up my language since Morgan has become a bit of a parrot.” He sighed. “I love my wife, but right now she’s as bad as Cap.”

You grinned.

“Anyway, as I was saying, you will do nothing of the sort. You’ve put all of the little toys for this team back together more times than I count. I can’t even remember the last time I had to make modifications. The least we can do is put you up. Barnes has been out on mission for the past couple of days, and I think he’s supposed to be gone three more. You’ve fixed that damn arm so many times. He definitely owes you a favor.” You couldn’t help but blush as Tony carried on. “You can take his room for now. If you’re still homeless when he gets back, we’ll find you another spot.”

You breathed a shaky sigh of relief. “Thank you, Mr. Sta—Tony.”

“Anytime, kiddo. Nick coming too?”

Your face paled at the name, right hand gripping the phone even tighter to stop yourself from dropping it. You glanced down at your left hand, pressed firmly over a makeshift bandage on your sternum that was already saturated with blood.

“N—no. He’s...visiting his mom.”

“Well, then. We get you all to ourselves.”

You nodded, then realized he couldn’t see that. “Yep,” you managed.

“All right, kiddo. Come by whenever. You can let yourself in. I think we’re all out and about this afternoon, but we should be back around dinner. See you then?”

Dinner. Hopefully that would be long enough to get yourself sorted out. No one else needed to know.

“Looking forward to it.”

Bucky was no stranger to blood. Even before he’d fought as an Avenger, even before he’d been brainwashed into an assassin of nightmares, hell, even before he’d shipped out to serve in uniform. Bucky had been chasing after a scrawny blond since elementary school. Finishing his fights. Cleaning the wounds after.

There was no reason blood should affect him anymore, even if it did haunt his nightmares sometimes. But that was less about the blood, and more about the screams of the people bleeding. And who had drawn those screams out of them.

And yet, seeing Y/N frozen in front of him, lower lip held fast between her teeth, red-stained hands clinging to her chest as if she could force the blood back in, Bucky couldn’t breathe. 

Y/N wasn’t an Avenger, although she might as well have been with how heavily the team relied on her. Constant tech upgrades, suit enhancements, weapons innovations, and repair after repair after repair. Especially to his damn metal arm. Always with a smile, always with a grace in her eyes that made him forget everything that arm had ever done.

Still, to the watching world, and more importantly to anyone with a grudge, Y/N was a civilian employee of Stark’s. There was no reason she should be clutching a battle wound.

“Y/N,” he repeated, finally getting control of his voice, “who did this to you?”

“I--” she started. Her eyes were glued to floor, as if the speckles of red staining the white tile held the answers to his questions. “I don’t...” Her eyes brimmed with tears, and he would have done anything to stop them from falling.

Focus.

“Okay. You don’t have to tell me yet. We’ll figure it out. But we should get you down to the med bay--”

“No!” Bucky stopped cold. He had started to herd Y/N out of the bathroom, arm wrapped gently around her, but she wrenched away. She backed herself into the corner, shoulders flush with the wall, chest heaving, eyes wide like a caged animal that might bolt at any minute.

Bucky’s heart shattered. She had never looked afraid of him before. But he needed to let that go for now. For her sake.

“Okay,” he said softly, palms extended in surrender. “We don’t have to go anywhere. Do you want me to get someone else?” Her eyes stayed locked on his as she shook her head. “All right. You are bleeding a lot, Y/N. I don’t want to push you, but someone needs to take care of it.”

She stared at him for a moment, mouth opening and closing, before the words finally came. “Can...can you?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. His eyes flicked down to the source of the bleed. “Are you sure you want me to do that?” he asked hurriedly. “Because I know Helen could--”

“Please.” The tears finally spilled over. How could he say no to that?

He heaved out a sigh, tensing his hands in an effort to stop them shaking. “Can you follow me out into the bedroom? I have the med kit out there.” She took a tentative step forward, and he matched her, walking backwards, guiding her out but not wanting to close the distance more than she was comfortable.

When she was finally seated on the edge of the bed, he flew around the room, throwing a t-shirt on and collecting supplies, his thoughts racing faster than his feet could ever carry him. He had dozens of questions perched on his tongue, but he swallowed them back down as soon as they formed. She was clearly not in any state for an interrogation. 

Supplies in hand, Bucky eased onto the bed next to her. He didn’t want to startle her, but there was no way to address the puddle of blood on her chest without sitting closely. Her shins pressed into his as they both sat with their legs folded in front of them. He slowly extended a hand towards her, and was relieved to see she didn’t flinch away when it came to rest on hers. Gently, he lifted her hands off the wound, one after the other. He followed them with his eyes as they came to rest in her lap, dripping crimson onto her jeans. And finally, his eyes came to rest on her sternum.

Fuck. A jagged incision ran between her breasts, from just below the hollow of her throat, disappearing behind where the cups of her bra met, and stopping just short of the center of her rib cage. There were small traces of adhesive residue around the edges, as if she had tried to bandage it up herself. Blood pooled, probing outwards in smears where her hands had fluttered. And more was spilling out of it with every heave of her breath.

“Y/N, I...shit.” He hesitantly raised a cloth towards her, but fell short.

“Bucky,” she said quietly. His eyes flicked up to look at her, but her gaze was fixed on her blood-stained hands. “It’s fine. Do what you...do what you have to do.”

He stared at her a moment longer. Hardening his resolve, he brought the cloth to her chest, sopping up blood, applying pressure. It was soaked in less than a minute. He dropped it to the floor and replaced it with a second. His eyes flicked between her own and the task at hand like a tennis match. Her face was unreadable, which was disconcerting to a highly trained assassin.

The second cloth wasn’t saturated quite as quickly, and by the third the bleed had eased to the occasional trickle. He scooped up one of her hands in her own and pressed it to the fabric, a silent request to hold it there.

“This needs stitches, Y/N. I can do those, but I still think you’d be better off...”

She shook her head, eyes still held fast on the hand in her lap.

“Okay. Ummm...there’s not really a not-awkward way to say this, so...I can’t stitch it up with your bra on.” Heat flushed across his face as he tried to force the words to come faster. “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable or anything, I swear. It’s just, it’s pulling at the skin, and the cut runs behind it and I--wait, hold on.” 

Before she could respond, he flew to his dresser and dug out an old t-shirt. Then to his desk for a pair of scissors. He held the shirt up towards her for a second, eyeballing the center. Then, depositing it on the bed, he cut a slit down the middle, leaving both the neckline and the bottom half of the shirt intact.

He picked up result and extended it to her, blush still burning on his cheeks.

Is that really the best you can do? Does that really make it all better?

But Y/N finally met his eye as she took it. “Thank you.”

He started to turn to give her some privacy, but she grabbed his wrist. “Can you...can you help me? I don’t think I can...” She rose from the bed, fidgeting with the hem of her ruined shirt pooled around her waist. Shaking fingers undid the last couple of buttons, and the fabric hung loose from her elbows. Bucky slid the blood-soaked piece off her arms, and it joined the rags on the floor. She turned her back to him, and he gently unclipped the clasp of her bra, cursing the chill of his metal fingers as goosebumps rose on her back. His hand fluttered over a deep purple bruise on her lower back.

Later. Now is not the time.

The straps of the bra pitched forward off her shoulders, and soon it was on the floor, too. She eased the newly modified shirt over her arms, and Bucky guided the hem over her head and down to her hips.

She turned to face him slowly, the jagged incision now on full display, as if someone had tried to cleave her in two.

“Okay. Let’s see what we can do here.”

You had put yourself in this situation, you supposed, refusing to get help from anyone else. You hadn’t really wanted to ask for Bucky’s help either, but that wasn’t really a negotiable at this point. And if you were honest, the wound was a lot worse than anything you could handle on your own.

But Bucky didn’t have a med bay setup in his room. More specifically, he didn’t have a raised table that would allow him to access such a vulnerable part of you with ease.

Which was how you ended up laying on his bed with him straddled over you, fighting the urge to panic. His knees were planted on either side of your hips, holding himself in a hovering position that could not have been comfortable for fear of crushing you. Threading a needle with shaking fingers in front of a face flushed pink.

You took a steadying breath. You knew this was going to hurt. Bucky had said as much, and you had refused his offers to go steal some numbing gel from the med bay. You were afraid if he did, he might come back with someone else to witness your shame. Not that you’d blame him. Who would want to deal with you in this state?

Bucky rested a gentle hand on your collarbone, drawing your gaze back to him. "Here we go.”

You hissed out a breath as the needle passed through the first time, a sob building its way up your throat. Your hands clenched around nothing at your sides. Tears burned in the corners of your eyes.

“So,” Bucky said quietly, his hands never stopping, “who do I have to kill?” He asked lightly, trying for a smile to soften the moment. But there was a pain in his eyes that told you he meant it.

“No--nobody,” you managed, breath catching as the thread slid through again. “It was an accident this ti...” Shit. You chewed on the corner of your lip, hoping he hadn’t caught your slip. But the hardness in his stormy blue eyes as they locked on yours told you he had.

“This time?” he asked gently, and you thought you heard a bit of a break in his voice.

“It’s not...I mean, I don’t...” Your eyes flitted frantically around the room, searching for anything to say, as if the words might appear out of thin air. But all you found was yourself fixed back on Bucky’s blue eyes, and the tears began to fall.

And with them, words, rushing out like a torrent of truth being ripped from you.

“I tried to break up with him. I just couldn’t do it anymore. I know it’s my fault when I make him upset, but I just constantly felt like I was waiting for him to explode and I--”

“Hold on a second. What’s your fault?”

You froze. There wasn’t really a way around this now. “Nick, he...he gets really upset sometimes. And it’s my fault...or it’s not. But I’m there and he...” You trailed off, unable to actually voice the pain speckling your body. Marks hidden by dutiful makeup and carefully selected clothes.

“The bruise on your back?” You didn’t answer, but that was answer enough. Bucky’s weight shifted above you. “And what brought on...this?”

You hissed again as the stitching resumed. “I told him I was done. He had asked me to quit working here, or...” He’d beat you senseless. “Said it was too much of a distraction. That I would end up screwing around with one of you with all the time I spent here.” You couldn’t look at Bucky as the half-truth spilled out. That wasn’t exactly what Nick had said, but you couldn’t bring yourself to admit that your ex-boyfriend had specifically blamed the man currently perched above you and sewing you back together.

Bucky was silent as he tied off the last stitch. A single finger ran down the seam, checking that it held, and the sensation sent a shiver up your spine. The gesture was intimate. The whole interaction could have been considered intimate, under any other circumstances.

“I tried to leave, but he said...” Tears were falling in earnest now, and you fought through sobs as you choked out, “He said he was going to remind me...who I belonged to.” You couldn’t breathe. “And he pinned me down.” You couldn’t breathe. “And he t--tore my clothes off.” You couldn’t breathe. “And he tied me to the bed.” You couldn’t fucking breathe.

You vaguely registered Bucky shifting off of you, easing you up to sit. Your fingers clawed at the bed spread, leaving bloodied fingerprints behind, as your chest heaved and you choked on tears. A warm, gentle hand found its home on your back, rubbing soothing circles.

“Y/N,” he said quietly. “It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. I need you to breathe, okay? Can you breathe with me?” His hand moved from your back to your hand and he guided it towards his chest, letting it rest over his heart, scooting to sit in front of you.

His breath was steady, and you fought to match it. Shaking inhale. Choked exhale. Tears still falling. Although, when you finally met his eyes, you saw that that was a match too. Bucky’s own face glistened with tear tracks, running clean lines through the grime of a mission you’d all but forgotten about.

“That’s it, doll. You’re okay. You’re okay.” Y/N watched as Bucky pulled both of her hands into his lap, thumbs sliding over the marks on her wrists that had been disguised by the stains of blood. Rope burn on both, and on her left wrist, an older bruise like four rings. A frown tensed in his brow as the realization hit him. A handprint. How did you not see this before?

“Okay. I want to respect whatever you need, and I can take care of surface injuries. But, doll, if he ra...” He couldn’t even bring himself to say the word.

“He didn’t. He...he forgot to take my bra off before he tied me down. He got really frustrated and tried to cut it off with a knife.” Bucky’s mouth opened in shock, but she cut him off hurriedly. “It was my fault,” she insisted. “I moved. He was already angry and he...he missed.”

Bucky’s mouth opened and closed again, but he said nothing. He felt like a dagger had been plunged into his chest.

“Nick panicked after that. Dropped the knife on the bed and bolted. I cut myself free and wrapped it up enough that I could put on new clothes. I called Tony and he said you’d be gone for the next couple of days, so I could stay here...obviously he was wrong.”

Bucky was still silent. The dagger twisted.

“I’m so sorry you have to deal with this...I really didn’t need anyone to know. I just needed to be somewhere else and I didn’t have anywhere else to go, and now I’ve bled all over your stuff and made you deal with all this shit that’s my fault and you didn’t even get to shower after your mission--”

“Y/N! Sweetheart, stop. It’s--it’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, but...” He stared at her hard. “Y/N, none of this is your fault.”

She shook her head. “But I--”

“No,” he said firmly, hands squeezing hers. “I know you want to believe there’s a rational reason for this to be happening. That’s normal. But Y/N. There is no way in hell that any of this is your fault. There is never an excuse for someone to treat you like that. Especially not someone who claims to love you.”

Tears spilled onto her face again, and his heart shattered further. How had he not seen the torment in the woman before him? The beautiful girl who fixed his arm, who teased at him with a smile in her eyes and a laugh that made his heart flutter. How could he have let this happen to her for so long?

Hatred seethed in his stomach, begging to rain hell down onto the piece of shit who dared inflict this torment on her. But he knew that needed to take a backseat. There would be time for justice. But she was here now. She needed James Barnes, not the Soldier inside him.

“Y/N. You don’t have to protect him. You don’t have to make excuses for him. Love doesn’t do what he did.” Tears were falling on his own face again, and there was a thickness to his voice as he swallowed back a sob.

“I just--I didn’t want to burden anyone. This isn’t anyone else’s problem. Even if it isn’t my fault, which I don’t...” She trailed off.

“Y/N. You laid there while I hovered over you and touched you. You were so fucking brave. That would have made anyone uncomfortable, let alone someone with the experiences you’ve had. Telling me that is not a burden. Telling me any of this is not a burden. It’s letting me care for you in a specific way that you need and deserve.”

“I don’t deserve this kind of special--”

“Love, you deserve the world. And you deserve to have people who care about you intimately. All the details. All the burdens. All the struggles. Whether that’s romantic or not. You have people here who are more than willing to care for you in the way that you need.”

She hesitated. “That just doesn’t seem fair to you. None of you signed up for my baggage. None of you asked for that. Why should you have to tiptoe around my issues?”

Bucky almost laughed through his tears. “Y/N, everyone has baggage. I’m not saying anyone has exactly the baggage that you do, or that you even fully understand what it all is yet. But we all have our shit. It’s part of being a person. And when you run in the circles we do, you tend to end up with a fuck-ton of it. But please. Have you ever treated any of us the way you’re treating yourself right now?”

She didn’t answer. He slowly brought a hand to her cheek, and she slowly met his eye.

“Y/N. I don’t think I have to tell you that I find myself to be pretty royally fucked up. But you have never, not once, made me feel like I deserved anything less than grace and kindness. Love, even. And that feeling of worth doesn’t come easy to me.” He wiped gently at the tears on her face. “We don’t usually get to choose the things that we think make us harder to love. But we do get to choose to let people love us anyway, and let them make us see that it’s not really harder. It’s just different. Love is nuanced. It looks different for different people. But it never looks like what you went through.”

She was shaking, trying to control the sobs bubbling up in her throat, and without warning she surged forward, capturing his lips in hers. Bucky froze for a moment, eyes wide, as something he’d envisioned under much happier circumstances played out before him. But as she sighed into him, he let himself hold her, letting the warmth of the kiss spread from his lips into the rest of his body. A tingle in his fingertips. A fluttering in his heart.

She drew back suddenly. “I’m sorry. That was--you didn’t ask for--”

Bucky couldn’t hide his grin. “Doll, you have got to stop saying sorry for much.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Mr. Sta--Tony says the same thing.”

“Well, for once I agree with him.” He scanned over her face, coming to settle on her eyes, which were again clouded with anxiety. “Look, Y/N. I don’t want to put any extra pressure on you. You’ve got enough to figure out right now as it is. So, for right now, I’m here. Whatever you need. A place to stay. A restraining order. A full Avengers beat-down. Someone to walk your dog.” He poked teasingly at her side with that, eliciting a giggle that brought almost as much warmth as the kiss.

“I don’t have a dog,” she laughed, rolling her eyes.

“Well, if you need a dog then, I’ll get that too. And if you decide, in time, that you need me too...then, I’ll be there for that.”

She smiled softly, eyes crinkling that the edges, the sparkle that he loved gently easing its way back in.

“I love you” sounded different to different people.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I don’t think I’ll ever get over the nerves of sharing my writing, but you all were just so freaking kind in your response to Deadweight. I wanted to give you another piece to (hopefully) enjoy. If you have requests, suggestions, or just general feedback, please let me know!

Tag List - Comment, message, or send me an ask if you’d like to join!

@buckysbabygorl

[thefanbasewhore]

The Weeping.

Prompt no. 4 from @wkemeup 's 9k challenge! - Character A is being held hostage. Character B offers to trade themselves in A's place.

master list || tag list

Summary || After you're taken from a mission, Bucky offers himself in order to insure your safety.

Paring || Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word count || 1,660

Warnings || abduction (kidnapping??), violence, gun-fire, mentions dead bodies and blood, angst.

Side note || clear eyes is Bucky and yours way of saying everything is okay and this is shorter then I intended it to be, I didn't have a lot of time to write it, so if it seems rushed, I'm sorry.

The mission was supposed to be simple - a quick in and out, retrieve the information and burn that place to the ground but even that seemed unattainable at the moment.

Bullets whiz through the air, penetrating the barrier of sound that make Bucky's ears ring. To anyone else it is frightening, usually follows screams of terror but it's something he lives for, the only familiar sound to stay with him constantly through the years. Adrenaline makes his body visibly tremble, chest conforming to laboring breath in order to stay quiet. Those crystal blue orbs narrowing, fine wrinkles bunch on the skin of his forehead as he nods towards you, on the opposite side of the room but still in his peripheral vision.

He nods once more - just to ensure that the hallway is clear. His heart is thumping against his chest right along with your own, fingers clenched the butt of your to bring it closer to your chest, raising it as Bucky moves in front of you with his own. The walls are splattered with red, fresh blood as you maneuver through the corpses' that lifelessly scatter the floors and the dark hallway seems almost endless, except the flickering light at the end of it. With every muffled gunshot it turns into darkness only to be unexpectedly brought to life again. "Stay low.." Bucky whispers as he follows your stance - back against the wall and a free hand reaching for the spare knife hidden in both of your boots but not before he extends his arm and fingers grasp the buckle across your chest with a gentle but meaningful pull, "Clear eyes?" "Clear eyes." Bucky nods softly as the cool vibranium finger sculpts the structure of your jaw with twinkling eyes. "Be careful in there, okay? You need anything --." He taps the shell of his ear with two fingers, and you nod in understanding. With one last glance Bucky turns towards the double doors, a hand pressing against the handle as he uses his body weight to push it open with ease and the moment he does more gunfire echoes the walls of the room. A sudden blur of motion catches his attention as his breath hitches as his arms wrap around you as bullets whiz through the air, only inches away from piercing your skin. Bucky uses the other door as cover as metal bullets ricochet. Smaller fingers clench into his flesh arm, forming indentations of small crescent moons as a means to seek cover. Bucky's arms wrap around you pulling you into his chest to shield you from any stray bullets but the heavy door behind his back is a strong enough metal to take the blunt force of the bullets without breaking through. His soothing hands find your hair, breathing heavily as he angles your face to meet his eyes. "Are you okay?" Your throat tightens at his worried expression but nods to confirm you were not hit. Bucky nods back, eyes setting in a hard line as he keeps you between his legs but peers over the threshold of the floor but a warning short from around the corner bounces off the walls. "Fuck." Bucky whispers as he reaches into the pocket of his tactical pants, but you don't need to look to see what he's got. "I'll go up the stairs, you go to the right." He pulls the pin out, rolling it into the room and waits until a thick, white cloud of smoke fills the hall, with one last nod he pulls his glasses down, fingers tapping the side as they click to life. You follow behind, gun raised in the air as you follow through sweeping the rather large room. The smoke is thick - suffocating, throat closing due to the inadequate amounts of oxygen, but you swallow the ball in the back of your throat while trying to maneuver through it, the glasses didn't help much. Footsteps cause you to jump, turning in every direction but the cloud is too thick and they near closer following along with your frantic motions to protect yourself with a mixture of anxiety and fear coarse through your veins. Something is mumbled to your right but it's too late, two rather large hands roughly grab at your hair, pulling it into a tight fist as another set of hands catch your leg - pulling into your fall onto the ground, hitting your head hard enough that dark, round dots cloud your vision. Before you could even manage to move - the cool surface of a blade touches your neck and your raise your hands in surrender as the weight of the man moves to crush your chest, face still veiled behind the white smoke. Without a word he turns you around, pressing your cheek against the floor with a rough hand as he pats down your suit, pulling the knives out with a snarl as his friend picks up your gun. 'Sweetheart, where are you?' Bucky's voice is muffled from the fact that the man's hand presses against it, but it vibrates his skin and it's yanked from your ear and crushed between two fingers. When the smoke dissipates the man brings you

to your knees, hands wrapped around your wrists with an unforgiving knee digging into your spine. "If you want her alive, come out now." A thick, foreign accent bounces off the walls of the room as the hand tightens, the other goon on your right holds your gun up as a blur moves in the corner of your eyes. Bucky's eyes meet yours in a panic as he rounds the corner, raising his gun to the man that holds your hair which only causes him to say something in a foreign language, digging the knife into your throat until it stings with pain. Every ragged breath the sharpened blade nicks the thickest column of your neck. "Let her go." Bucky hisses through clenched teeth, jaw clenching as seafoam eyes darken like the night sky. The man smiles evilly, a sick grin that reaches his eyes, makes Bucky's stomach drop inside his stomach as he twirls the knife around a dirty, unmanicured finger. "Didn't think we'd recognize you with that haircut, Soldat?" The skin of your neck burns as a yelp of pain fills the room, blood smears his fingers and invades your senses and the words make Bucky's eyes narrow, squeezing them shut at the words. The smell of smoke, gunfire and metallic make your head spin as Bucky lowers the gun to the ground, hands raised in the air. "Take me, let her go." "What use do we have for you now, Soldat? You are no longer our winter soldier; they have rid you of that." The man's sick chuckle causes him to shake his head, eyes wild with paralyzing fear. "That's not true - I feel him, he's still in here." He pauses, guilty eyes flicker to your own and back up the to man's, "Just let her go, don't hurt her." "No, no." You manage to mumble, tears stinging the waterline of your eyes as you grit your teeth in pain, he never lets the pressure of the knife go as you try to suppress a shiver. Bucky lowers his head with shame, in complete defeat as he lowers to his knees and moves the gun further away. "He's still in here. You can get him out. Take me instead of her, please." "Stop, no!" Eyes of guilt refuse to meet your own, the secret you have known all along and Bucky's urge to smother the winter solider completely blinded him from the fact that this could happen someday. It's been years since he's been so called 'freed' but some roots are so deep they can't be removed, the inside of his brain still tainted with the dark soldier who refuses to stop haunting him after all this time. "Bucky don't you fucking do it!" Bucky ignores the calls, squeezing his eyes shut with emotion. It's not fair, all those years spent brainwashed, tucked away inside his own brain just to end up there again. He barely survived the trauma then but now - he would never be able to, not without Steve, without the Wakandian's again. "Walk towards me, slowly." The other man commands as Bucky nods an understanding to stand on his feet but pauses as the knife presses into your skin more, "Let her go first." The instant the knife is gone is relief, hand reaching up to rub the burning skin and smear blood against your gloved hand and along your neck. Roughly the knee against your back pushes you from the position of on your knees to leaning against the man for support as his arm crosses against your chest, hand crushing the windpipe of your neck. "I will count to three and you both will walk, you towards me, her out the door. Got it?" With every number your heart pounds inside your chest, face turning red due to the harsh grasp at the surface of jaw as a cough follows suit, chest greedy for oxygen as he releases. Bucky takes the first step forward, edging you closer with his eyes that leave little room for argument. Close, slow steps until both yours and his arm brush against each other The fat of your bottom lip quivers as he leans forwards, hands still raise obediently in the air to press his forehead against your own. "Buck -." "Promise me, you won't come look for me." It is rushed as the men in front of him yell but inaudible as you shake your head as tears push past eyelashes. "I mean it, forget about me, they'll never stop. Okay? No

matter how much I try, they will never leave me alone." "How could you say -." There's a rough tug on his hand, pushing him forward but he uses the last second, he can spare to press one more heartbreaking kiss against your lips and before you could comprehend what coming next - a burning, red-hot pain radiates at the base of your skull and numbing darkness consumes you.

tags: @sugarpunch-princess, @old-enough-to-know-better73, @maxsaturdayhatesnarwhals, @Fajitasandfics, @devilswaldorf, @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123, @grubler, @SodDy030, @agent-catfish-kenobi,@scarletglowss, @abitchforbarnes, @xxlovingfandomsxx, @jewishdelis, @klorpski, @kaitieskidmore1, @peterpstuff, @akaaaaashiiii, @angelsandsorcery, @moony-is-bae, @yliumy, @watermelonsponge, @stolenxkissess, @peakascum, @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme, @crvecem, @likealadygodiva, @harrysthiccthighss, @burnerbitchh, @sergeantjamesbbarnes, @amelia-song-pond

[watchmegetobsessed]

Prisoner - Bucky Barnes

a/n: hi everyone! i am really excited to share this with you, because this one was written for a writing challenge! it is part of @wkemeup​ ‘s 9k writing challenge and it’s the first time i take part in anything like this with a Bucky fic! not that i have many but im sure more is about to come lol! let me know what you thought after reading!

prompt: Character A is possessed/controlled and attempts to harm Character B. [B] refuses to fight back in fear of hurting [A].  

pairing: Bucky X Reader

warnings: blood, violence, mind controlling, just the usual jazz lol

word count: 7.8k

masterlist

Bucky and you were a pair made in hell. Only that he is the only one out of the two of you who really went through the deepest and darkest corners of it while you were basically just waiting in the lobby, as you like to say it.

He wasn’t the only person HYDRA had plans with. Being an orphan from the age of four, you didn’t have the life you probably deserved. Abducted at the age of twenty, you lived in cells and labs for years before they gave you the serum, turning you into a super solider, with determined plans to turn you into a kind of winter soldier 2.0, eventually wiping your head like his and turning you into the perfect assassin. Only that before they could start with the torture, you were rescued by none other than Captain America during a raid on one of HYDRA’s secret bases.

The Avengers gave you shelter when you had absolutely nothing left in life. Your previous life was long forgotten, almost entirely non-existent, all you had is the safety these extraordinary people were offering you, that you took more than willingly.

You were there when Bucky was captured, still very much fighting with his own conscious. You were in the building when Zemo triggered him into being a murderer again and he broke free, fought his ex best friend, saved his life and then disappeared again. You often found yourself thinking about how you’d be just the same if you weren’t saved. How you’d be out there, used as just a toy to end lives.

You never had to go through the process of ripping this side of yourself out of your head, because they never succeeded with you. But Bucky didn’t have it as lucky as you did. When Shuri contacted you that he was awake from his hibernation and they were working on wiping the winter soldier out of him, you didn’t hesitate to drop everything and be there for him. You didn’t know him that well back then, but you felt like you shared a deep connection through the torturous things you had to go through. You were there for him until he finally became entirely himself. No more winter soldier, just Bucky.

The two of you have tens of missions together behind your back at this point. Partners in work, friends in life, that’s what you are. And in your dreams?

Definitely lovers.

Now as you are rotting in a dark and musty cell somewhere in the middle of Poland, you are starting to regret you never really told him how you feel. You had so many chances to come clear but you were too afraid of rejection and the possibility of ruining your strong friendship and most importantly partnership that you chose to keep it all bottled up inside you.

It might have been days or hours since they locked you in your cell, you wouldn’t know. You lost track of time and you’re not expecting to see the daylight anytime soon either. Are they looking for you? Or do they think you died? No one was around you when you were abducted and there were no signs left behind that would have let your team know you survived. There was a massive explosion near your location in the raid, anyone would easily think that you were caught in the middle of that.

Does Bucky think I’m dead too? Has he given up on me?

You’re starting to think you’ll never find that out. Just like how you’ll never find out what it’s like to grow old, have a home that’s not just a room in a facility, spend your days with your hobbies rather than trainings and missions.

As the thick metal door opens and a creak of light breaks the heavy darkness in your cell, you look up at the man who walks in. If your hands weren’t cuffed with fucking vibranium cuffs, you would easily kill him in a heartbeat along with the three bulky guards he brought with himself.

“It’s time to make a use out of you,” the man grinned before two guards grabbed you by your arms, dragging you out of the cell, taking you God knows here. Probably to your death.

“You have to check twice,” Buckly growled upon hearing Agent Hill’s report from what was found at the scene. Or what was not found.

“No signs of Y/N were found, Bucky. But that explosion was so massive, it wiped out everything in it’s close radius. If she stood close to that…” “But what if she didn’t?!” he snaps, barking at the innocent agent. The room falls silent, no one dares to speak up against Bucky’s raging anger. Fury steps forward and places a hand to the upset soldier’s shoulder as a soft warning to control himself. Bucky takes a deep breath before looking over at Fury, no longer determined to rip anyone apart who wants to argue with him.

“Let’s all calm down and see what we can do. Do you think she survived?” Fury simply questions him. Bucky taps on the panel and a map of the location pulls up on the big screen, showing a little red dot at the places where the team members were located last before the explosion.

“Her last location was far enough of it for her to survive,” he explains pointing at your dot.

“But if she moved just a little closer—“ Hill starts again, but she quickly silences herself when Bucky shoots her another warning look.

“I think she was captured. We can’t just assume that she is gone that easily,” he insists, refusing to even think about the possibility of you dying in that explosion. That’s just simply not an option for him.

Fury stares back at him hard, searching for something in his eyes before he finally nods.

“Alright, let’s get on the case. We need to find out where they could be possibly hiding her.”

Bucky breathes out in relief as the team gets down to work immediately. This is not the part he can help with, he sucks at technical things, so now he is left with just the painful wait until a lead pops up and he can come to your rescue.

 The gym is eerily quiet without your bickering. He always trains with you and it’s been one of his favorite things to do. The two of you liked to race in everything and thought you both knew he was faster and stronger, he always let you win a few times, giving you the chance to tease him about being second after you.

But now as he is punching the heavy bag on his own, he wishes he could hear one of your snarky comments about his lopsided moves, because he still hasn’t entirely gotten used to the uneven strength in his hands.

“If she is really out there, I’m sure she is doing fine.”

Sam walks in, his steps echo in the empty room and though Bucky stops for a moment, he doesn’t look at him, just keeps punching the bag.

“She is tough, Bucky. She can take care of herself.”

“Not when she is outnumbered by a dozen,” he growls back. “I know she is tough, but sometimes that’s just not enough.”

For a long time Bucky thought Steve is the only person he can work with as partners, but he had to realize that he had a special bond with you through the tortures you both had to go through and sometimes he felt like you were the only one who understood him truly. Even though your brain wasn’t washed like his, you were close to it and it gave you a great understanding of what he had to go through.

But it wasn’t just about the trauma. As you grew closer to each other you easily became friends, really good ones for all that matters. Bucky loved spending time with you on and out of missions as well. He finds your humor a little dark but quite entertaining, he likes how you are more social than he is so whenever you need to work with someone else you always take the role of the communicator, building a bridge between him and others easily. He loves how much you care about others, how you show your appreciation for your loved ones in the tiny details as making breakfast or baking their favorite cookies. He loves the way you smile whenever he messes up something and you have to take care of it eventually, he loves the way you laugh at his lame, old jokes, he loves how you always fall asleep on horror movies and he loves…

He loves you.

For years he thought he would never feel this way again for anyone, because it’s so raw and human, he thought it was wiped out of him when he became the winter soldier, but you proved him wrong. And now he wishes he told you how he felt, because if you won’t return, he has to live his life knowing you never knew how much you meant to him.

Tossing and turning in his bed, he stays wide awake, not able to even close his eyes when he knows you are out there somewhere, because you have to be. He refuses to nurse the thought of you gone for even a second. You’re qualified, the best fighter he has ever met and he has this feeling in his gut that you made it out of there alive. Maybe you knew the explosion was about to happen. Maybe you ran the opposite way before it was too late. Or maybe you found shelter, or simply was just knocked out of the impact of it and they captured you.

So many possibilities that are way more better than the fatality of your death.

Kicking the silky sheets off his body, the ones he deep down hates because it’s way too smooth against his skin, something he still has a hard time to grow accustomed to, he pulls a hoodie over his head before creeping his way out of his bedroom, down the hallway until he reaches yours. He stands still at the door, a sense of anxiety washing over him as he thinks about what’s inside. Not that it’s the first time he is here, he has spent endless nights in your room, the two of you talking and laughing as you showed him your favorite movies he hasn’t seen. You often bought a big bag of snacks for your movie nights and the two of you sprawled across your comforter, your legs sometimes touching, or there was this one time when he let you braid his hair.

“You should come to missions like this,” he remembers your teasing as you ran your fingers through the neat braids running along his head.

“And give the boys another reason to tease me? No thank you,” he chuckled.

“Another? What do they tease you about?” you asked furrowing your eyebrows as you popped a gummybear into your mouth.

You. It was you they teased him about and how obvious his feelings for you are. Seemingly everyone saw how you looked at each other but you and him.

He twists the silver doorknob before pushing the door open, part of him hoping to see you curled up under the sheets, snoring lightly and peacefully, but the room is terribly empty without your presence.

Everything is just the way you left them. The abandoned workout clothes hanging from the edge of the hamper, your running shoes under the window, your journal lying on your nightstand with a pen on top and his favorite… a framed picture of you and him on your bookshelf with all your favorite romantic novels stacked neatly on the shelves.

Bucky steps closer, his hands hidden in the pooch of his hoodie as he stares at the photo. It was taken a few days after the two of you returned from Wakanda, Bucky was finally free from the winter soldier and it was probably the best few days of his life. The two of you decided to take a trip to London before returning to your duty, a place you always wanted to see, but never really got the chance. It was just the two of you, taking some time away from the avengers, SHIELD, all the bad in the world, pretending like you’re two normal people for just a weekend before returning to your duties in New York. The photo was taken when you returned from the getaway, Steve took it in the gym, the two of you sat at the edge of the boxing ring after a killer fight. It was a simple moment, his arm stretched behind you as you leant against his side. The glow from your alone time was still apparent on your faces, neither of you felt happier in life before, or not at least in the last decade.

His vision blurs as he runs a finger through the frame, a sharp pain stabbing in his chest as he watches your bright smile and rosy cheeks. He never thought he would feel this way about anyone, not after everything he went through, but you proved him wrong. You showed him how much more human he still is that what he thinks of himself and you might not even have realized it.

Too restless to go back to sleep, Bucky storms out of your room, carefully closing the door behind him before going down to Tony’s office, determined to make himself useful. He can’t just sit around and wait, he needs to feel like he is doing everything he can.

When the first rays of the sun shine above the horizon and the first agents arrive for their shifts, He has already gone through an immense amount of security tapes from all around the world that had even the slightest match through the face recognition system with yours. None of them turned out to be real, but he never gave up.

“Barnes, were you here all night?” Tony asks in awe when he finds the long-haired avenger with his eyes glued to one of the screens, watching yet another tape.

“Not all night, but… for the majority, yes,” he nods without even sparing Tony a look.

Any other day Tony would tease him for maybe finally doing something useful, or not only using his fist in a case, but not today. Everyone on the team knows how much you mean to him and how hard it is to not know where you are. So he just nods, places his coffee down to the desk and gets down to work without a word.

Soon enough the rest of the team joins them and everyone is working together to find even the slightest lead. Every other minor case is put aside, you are their priority.

The more time passes by without anything found, Bucky feels like a part of him is dying more and more. Hopelessness and fear is taking over his already messed up mine, but he is still holding onto the light and that small little feeling in his gut that you are still out there somewhere. And then they find a lead.

“We’ve got a match!” Nat beams from behind her screen and everyone gathers around her as a series of blurry photos play in front of them, showing a group of men carrying a clearly unconscious person to a minivan before driving away. The quality is definitely not the best, your face is also half covered by your hair, but your uniform gives you away. It really is you.

“Where and when was this taken?” Bucky asks in a hurry.

“Last night, outside of Krakow. We have one last coordinate for the van,” Nat informs the group as she brings up a map, a red dot signaling the last spotting of the same van.

“There’s a closed off military based near,” Steve chimes in, pointing at the map a few miles away from where the pictures were taken.

“Alright, suit up everyone. Guess we are going to Poland,” Tony announces and a moment later everyone is running off to get ready for takeoff.

The ground doesn’t feel that bad anymore. It’s wet and there’s gravel here and there, the coldness is not too comfortable either, but you are getting used to it. Probably because it makes you feel things and that’s important to you now. In times when you often lose contact with your own body and mind, feelings keep you grounded and they remind you of who you are.

Last night you finally found out who caught you and it wasn’t a pleasant surprise. Aziel Nowak is a name you’ve already heard before, but not in the best way. The guy is totally crazy and if that’s not enough, he is kind of a genius as well. These two never sit well with each other and you knew it was just a matter of time before you had to face him, but you didn’t think these would be the circumstances.

Nowak’s father, Aleksander was a well-known scientist in the circles of HYDRA, he was one of the assholes responsible for wiping Bucky’s head, unfortunately, his own creation brought his death upon him. Bucky killed him during a raid, all while Aleksander was trying to trigger him, but Bucky was faster than him and shoot him in the head before he could get the second trigger word out. Aziel swore to seek revenge for his father’s death and made it clear that his big plan is to take out every avenger one by one, but all during completely destroying Bucky in every possible way.

Stuck in a clear tube, one that was built specially for super soldiers, you stood in his lab as he got everything ready for his master plan with you.

“The winter soldier was full of flaws,” he started to explain to you, working behind his computer while you couldn’t do anything to stop the madness. Even if you could break out of the tube, you were terribly outnumbered with the hoard of guards in the room, all of them armed and ready to rip you apart. It would have been a suicidal mission.

“The trigger words take a lot of time to enlist and sometimes, we just don’t have time for that. We need our soldier instantly, in a push of a button, if I might add,” he smirked and you almost gagged. He was a lowlife, disgusting middle-aged man, completely out of touch of reality, wrapped up in his own head with his ridiculous misconceptions and twisted view of the world.

“But fear no more, I have a better solution,” he grinned at you, holding up a tiny chip between his fingers and your jaw flexed. You didn’t know what it was, but you had guesses. “Spent years working on this little thing and now I can finally test it out and you get to be the lucky one to do it. Start the gas,” he ordered and a moment later some kind of gas started to fill the tube up. Your pathetic attempt to escape was cut off shortly when you felt your whole body freeze as you inhaled the gas. You just stood there, completely no control over your own body. The back of the tube opened with a hiss once the gas cleared out from around you and you felt a sharp stabbing at the back of your neck. You couldn’t even gasp, you were as frozen as a statue, unable to defend yourself and you truly felt like it’s the end. You wish it was though.

Nowak implanted the chip into your spine and you could feel the wires cling into your nerves, melting into your body like a parasite. A single tear rolled down your cheek as your wound was closed off.

“This is going to be so much fun,” Nowak smirked when he walked into your sight again. He had a control panel in his hands and as he pushed some buttons electricity bolted through your whole body and you completely lost control over your actions. Your body moved without your consent, arms and legs acting without your brain actually telling them.

You became a prisoner in your own body.

The night was spent fighting with Nowak’s best guards as he tested out his new toy: you. He could control your whole body thanks to the chip and while you were screaming and shouting in your head, there was no escape. He made you into his ragdoll and there was nothing you could do against it.

He switched the chip off when you were thrown back into the cell. You sobbed for hours probably as you tried to get the thing out of yourself, blood was dripping down your back, but you had to accept that it was too deep, clinging onto your spine, you couldn’t get it out with your bare hands.

Now you are lying on the floor and try to remember who you are, because you’ve been feeling like you lost touch with your true self. The only thing that has been helping is remembering your favorite memories.

It makes your heart flutter when you realize that most of them have Bucky in them. Your most favorite? The time you spent in London. Those days are the closest and dearest to your heart and now you just wish you could go back in time for even just an hour. Strolling down the streets like any other tourists without a worry in the world, watching the city lay in front of you as you ride the London Eye or walking along the River Thames. You felt so normal, so happy, sharing your time with the man you probably love the most in the whole wide world.

“I could live here,” you sighed when the Big Ben came into view above the brick buildings.

“It rains too much here,” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at you, his arm brushing against yours.

“I like the rain. Love the smell of it, love how refreshing it feels after it,” you chuckled.

“And what would you want to do here?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Maybe I would work at a library. Or a café!”

“You want to be a barista!” He chuckled, smirking down on you. “Is this why you wanted Tony to get a fancy espresso machine?”

“Well, not just because of this, I just really like good coffee,” you smiled up at him. “What, do you not like my coffee?”

“Oh, I do. You make the best in the tower,” he nodded.

You could always talk about anything and everything with him. He understood you so well and you liked to think it worked the other way as well. That you were just as important to him as he was to you.

“Bucky.” His name falls from your lips like a desperate plea, as if you could summon him and he’d be here any moment to rescue you. But nothing changes and you are still on your own.

You’ve been wondering if this is how he felt when they made him to be the winter soldier. If he went through the same struggle or if it was worse. He said he doesn’t remember everything he did, as if sometimes he just completely disappeared in his own head, but other times live vividly in his memories.

You remember everything too. The chip has no control over your mind and thoughts, it works as another brain that takes over control in your body, caging your mind in your own head while it works your body.

A siren rings through the building and you gasp, your head snapping in the direction of the metal door. You hear orders in a foreign language and running footsteps somewhere down the hallway. Pushing yourself up you move to the far end of the room as you hear someone approaching your cell. Before the lock clicks on the door, you feel the familiar electricity run through your body and you breathe out before you lose control over your body again. You stand up, not because you want to, but because this is what they ordered. The door swings open and Nowak walks in.

“Guess your little friends figured out where you are. It’s time to show them my masterpiece.”

The military base is pretty lively for a closed off one. As the team is approaching the complex they inspect the possibilities they have to get inside.

“Alright, we have to be smart about this. Nowak is a psychopath,” Tony announces when the quinjet is nearing the base. “Barron and Natasha, we need a diversion. Banner, you stay here and only come in if it’s needed,” he starts and everyone nods along. “Wanda, the same goes for you as well. Listen to the call word and be ready to interfere. Sam and I are going to clear the main building, try to find Nowak. Barnes, Cap, you are tracking Y/N down. Everything clear?”

“As daylight,” Steve nods as he grabs his shield from the side.

Once the quinjet touches down, everyone goes their own way, going along the plan they discussed. Nat and Clint do well with the diversion, a great amount of guards and soldiers are drawn in their way as Tony and Sam make their way into the main building of the base.

“Where should we look, Buck?” Steve asks his friend as they hide behind one of the quarters. Bucky looks around, inspects the place and nods towards a building that’s clearly powered with a lot more electricity for whatever reason, Thick cables running inside, snaking under the doors, pouring extra power inside. Steve nods and once the way is somewhat cleared out, they head inside.

They take down the few HYDRA agents that try to get in their way as they run further into the building without even breaking a sweat. They easily reach the lab and it almost feels way too easy.

“Something is not right,” Steve says as the two of them walk into the empty lab, curious inspecting all the machines and equipment they have absolutely no idea how to work.

Bucky’s eyes fall on the tube in the far corner of the room and walking closer he gets an eerie feeling and he can already picture you trapped inside, the thought making his stomach churn.

“Anyone found Nowak yet?” Steve asks through the com.

“Negative,” Nat grunts back in the middle of her own fight.

“Haven’t seen the fucker either,” Tony answers and Steve sighs.

Just as Bucky is about to head to the door that leads out of the lab at the other end from where they entered, the sliding door opens and they both get ready to fight whatever is about to come into sight. But neither of them were expecting you to walk out.

“Y/N?!” your name falls from Steve’s lips as he lets his shield down, staring back at you confused. But you don’t answer, just stop a few feet away from them, staring blankly ahead of you and Bucky swears he was on the verge of fainting from his anger, because he knew those eyes all too well, because he used to see them in the mirror.

“Y/N, what did they do?” he whispers desperately, a hand reaching out to you, but it’s quickly cut off when you grab his hand and easily throw him over, his back contacting the floor with a painful thump.

Hell breaks loose fast as you start fighting them off, using the advantage of their shock upon seeing you, working against them while they try to make you remember them.

“Y/N, it’s us! We don’t want to hurt you!” Steve growls when he saves himself from one of your hits, his shield coming between the two of you.

I know! I know it’s you, but I can’t do anything! You scream in your own head, unable to even form the words. You’re a prisoner in this body you thought to be yours, but it betrayed you.

You never fought both of them before at the same time, but now that it’s happening, you’re surprisingly good at it, handling two super soldiers at the same time when one of them has a vibranium arm while the other one keeps throwing a vibranium shield at you, though it’s clear they aren’t giving their best, afraid of hurting you even though you’re in killer mode right now and determined to rip them apart.

“Do you think they did the same to her as they did to you?” Steve asks out of breath when you throw them against a wall and return to fight Bucky.

“It’s something else. Look at the back of her neck!” he growls when you throw a punch in his way that he catches with his metal arm, holding your fist tight as you keep pushing it and this moment of pause allows Steve to take a look at you from the back.

“Oh shit,” he breathes out.

Yes! Take this shit out and I’m free! You scream, but no one hears. Your fist frees from Bucky’s grip and you kick him in the stomach so hard he snaps against the desk behind him and wasting no time you jump right at him, the fight continues.

“If anyone finds Nowak, don’t kill him. We’ve got Y/N and she is being controlled by something,” Steve explains through his earpiece before throwing his shield in your direction right when you’re about to attach your hands to Bucky’s neck. It hits you in the side and you fall to the ground grunting.

“Don’t fucking hurt her!” Bucky growls at him, but Steve gives him a look.

“She is trying to kill us, we have to do something!”

You’re on your feet fast, already charging at Steve and it catches him by surprise, he stumbles back as your knee collides with his stomach, a punch thrown at his pretty face.

“I see Nowak!” Tony’s voice comes through the earpieces, but they don’t have the chance to celebrate, because you’re kicking their ass big time.

When you want to launch yourself at Steve again, Bucky’s arms wrap around your waist from behind and he pulls back, pushing you away, making you stumble, but you’re back on your feet quickly. Your eyes meet and you want to touch him so badly, run into his arms, tell him how happy you are to see him and that he was the only thing that kept you sane, but instead, you throw yourself at him, fist colliding with the side of his head.

I’m so sorry, Buck!

“We’ve got Nowak!” Tony announces and Steve sighs in relief.

“Does he have something like a remote or controller?” he asks while you and Bucky are at each other’s throat. You throw him to a desk and drag him across it, papers and equipment flying everywhere before he ends up on the floor groaning. You have the perfect chance to throw a punch in again, but you turn around and run back towards the door you came through.

“He has a controlling panel, do you think it’s connected to Y/N?” Tony asks.

“Very much likely, but please hurry up, she is trying to run away!” Steve begs as they both start to chase after you in the labyrinth of hallways. You’re footsteps are echoing on the checkered floors as they are trying to catch up with you. You take a left turn and get out of their vision just for a split second. As they get around the corner they immediately freeze when they find you standing there, a gun pointing right at Bucky’s head, a deadly, but still rather blank expression in your eyes.

“Shit,” Steve breathes out.

“Y/N, I know you are in there,” Bucky speaks up.

Yes! I’m here! I’m here Bucky!

“The controller is locked, but we are working on it,” Tony announces through the com, but it doesn’t help their situation right now. If he can’t unlock the controller, you are likely to shoot them both if they don’t do something. As you stare back at your two friends, you are using everything in you to try to get back the control over your own body, but it’s like you’re just silently screaming in an empty, locked room.

“I know you hear me. Please, try to fight it off. I know how hard it is, but if anyone can do it, it’s you,” Bucky continues and if only you were in charge of yourself, you’d already be sobbing at the broken expression he is staring back at you with. Your finger is on the trigger and you can feel your muscles trembling.

“Buck, we need to disarm her,” Steve tells him, but he shakes his head.

“No. We can’t do that without hurting her and I’m not doing that.”

Oh Bucky! That’s the only way now!

“She is gonna shoot, Bucky. We have to do something!”

“She could have already fired. She is fighting it off, I know it.”

“Or maybe it’s just whatever it is inside her messing with her head as Tony is trying to break the controller.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, I know you can do this. I’m not gonna hurt you, you can fight it!” Bucky continues, ignoring Steve’s words, who stands behind him with his jaw flexed.

I can’t do it, you need to knock me out! I’m not strong enough to do it!

You are trying everything you can and you are already holding your finger back, you would have already pulled the trigger if it wasn’t for your resistance somewhere in this cage. But you just know you’re not strong enough to stop yourself forever, they will need to disarm you, there’s no choice.

You stare back at Bucky, his forehead and left cheek bloody from wounds you gave him and he probably has a few bruises under his leather jacket as well, all because of you. Nowak made you hurt the person you love the most and now his life is being threatened. You know he won’t fight you, he will not try to disarm you, he would rather take the bullet than cause pain to you, more than what he already did during your fight.

The gun trembles in your hand as you’re desperately trying to gain your control back, sweat beading on your forehead, your chest heaving.

“Stark, we are running out of time!” Steve warns him through the com.

“Just one more second!” he answers, but you’re afraid you don’t have that much time.

“Y/N, please!” Bucky begs, a single tear rolling down his cheek and you can feel your own heart breaking at the sight of him. You can’t believe it’s because of you, you are causing him pain when you swore to work to see him his happiest in his life.

Your jaw flexes and you are on the verge of breaking, the tiniest light flashing in front of you as you keep pushing, trying to take back control, but then you feel like losing again. It all happens so fast, you can barely process.

You know you’re about to pull the trigger, you can’t stop yourself, but just as you are about to do it, Tony’s voice rings through the com.

“We got it!”

In a blink of the eye, the invisible grip that’s been keeping you tight vanishes, the cage opens up and suddenly you feel yourself come alive again as the most painful, deafening and desperate scream rips from your throat, the gun falling from your grip before you collapse on the ground in complete shock of everything that went down.

“Get it out! Get it out! I can’t do this!” you scream, your nails scratching the back of your neck once again, trying to reach the chip, but you’re just breaking your own skin once again, blood dripping down your back.

“Hey, it’s alright, sweetheart. We got you. You’re gonna be fine!” Bucky falls to his knees, cradling you into his arms as you sob into his hard chest, hands gripping the fabric of his jacket tight as your salty tears soak your cheeks, your whole body shaking.

“I’m so sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you repeat, shaking your head as if you were trying to get rid of the memories, but they are still there, you still know what it’s like to be a prisoner in your own head but at least now you are with Bucky and that brings you the peace of mind you’ve been seeking all along.

“You don’t have to be sorry, it’s alright. You’ll be alright, sweetheart, you’re safe with me now,” he murmurs into your hair, his arms holding you so tight it’s starting to get hard to even breathe, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You cling onto him as if your life depends on it and in a way, it really does. Bucky gathers you into his arms as you keep mumbling your apologies and begs to make it stop even though you are not being controlled any longer. He carries you to the quinjet as he keeps murmuring reassuring words into your ear, telling you that everything is going to be alright now. You are in good hands.

You don’t let go of him on the way back and he doesn’t seem to want to do it either. Curled up on his lap, you let yourself fall into a shallow slumber as his fingers are dancing up and down your back, keeping you close to his chest, the feeling of finally being home taking over your senses.

Arriving back to New York you are helped off the jet by Bucky or course as he walks you to the med bay where Dr. Cho is already waiting for your arrival.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. We’ll fix you up,” she smiles at you as you are expected to let go of Bucky, but your head snaps back in his direction in panic, hands grabbing onto his anxiously.

“It’s alright, I’ll be here waiting for you. My stupid face will be the first thing you see when you wake up,” he jokes, his tired eyes fixated on you as you hesitate to let go of him, but eventually do it.

Keeping his promise Bucky stay outside as long as you are under Helen’s hands, not able to even drag him away to change clothes. The only thing he can make himself is dragging his ass to the nearest restroom to at least wash the dried blood off his face, but he quickly returns to his previous spot.

It turns out removing the chip is a bit more complicated than anyone thought. The micro wires are so deep in your nerves, Dr. Cho has to be careful if he doesn’t want to paralyze you with just one wrong move. Five entire hours pass by before the chip is finally out of you, before they place you in one of the rooms until you wake up from the anesthesia. Bucky is right by your side, holding your hand soothingly as he waits for you to open your eyes again. When he sees your eyelashes fluttering, he holds his breath as your eyes open and you adjust to the light and the view around you.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” he softly asks, gently brushing a strand of hair out of your forehead.

“Like… I just fought against two super soldiers,” you breathe out in a joking manner that makes him chuckle. You’re back and he missed you more than he could ever express.

As you let out a long and heave breath, you feel everything coming back to you and you can’t stop your sobs and the tears falling from your eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Bucky,” you gasp and he is quick to leap forward, one hand holding yours while the other one cups your cheek as he makes you turn your head towards him.

“No, no, no. You have nothing to be sorry about, Y/N. You did everything you could, you fought it so well!”

“But I hurt you! I didn’t want to hurt you, I was screaming inside my head, but I just couldn’t stop!” you sob shaking your head.

“I know, it wasn’t your fault! Please don’t think for a moment anyone blames you!” he begs, his bright blue eyes glued to your pained face as you fight your tears back. A hand moves to the back of your neck, feeling the wound where the chip used to be.

“Is it gone?” you ask in a whisper.

“It is. Helen took good care of you. You’re free now,” he smiles and you feel a wave of relief washing over you right away. Your body is yours again, finally.

“I didn’t think I would be myself again,” you admit, your voice slightly shaking. Bucky’s heart breaks at your words, but remains silent as you carry on. “I kept thinking of memories that feel the closest to me and it was the only thing that kept me sane. And I realized that the dearest ones are all with you, Bucky.”

His lips part at your revelation as his heart is beating fast against his ribcage. He has been waiting for this moment to come for what feels like eternity and now it might become his reality.

“When I thought I would never be the same again, I just thought about… you. That I don’t get to see you again, when I always wanted to spend all my days with you, Buck.”

“I want to spend all my days with you too, sweetheart,” he breathes out, leaning closer until his face is only inches away from yours. “I hated the thought of you being gone without ever telling you how I feel.”

“How do you feel, Bucky?” you ask in a trembling voice.

“You are my everything, Y/N. You are my best friend and everything beyond and I was such a fool for not telling you before this, but the thought of losing you made me realize that I have to stop being a coward,” he chuckles with tears bubbling in his eyes. You reach out and cup his face in your palms, your thumb running along the dark circles under his eyes and you wonder if he even slept a moment since you’ve been gone.

“We were both idiots, don’t beat yourself,” you chuckle softly, making his mouth turns into a grin before he leans closer and his lips finally press against yours, capturing them in a sweet, so-good-to-have-you-back kiss you’ve been dreaming about for probably way too long but at least since London. It’s soft and gentle, filled with the promise of many more to come. Thought you’re trying to stretch it as long as possible, a cough is heard from the door and you both pull back, turning your attention at the rest of the team standing there, all of them happy to see you again, or maybe to see the two of you finally taking the step they’ve been waiting for to happen.

“I guess you are feeling better now, yeah?” Nat smirks as she walks further inside, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Much better,” you admit with a shy chuckle. “Thank you for the rescuing, guys.”

“It’s the least we could do,” Sam smirks at you.

“And Barnes would have gone nuts if we didn’t find you so that was also quite motivating,” Tony jokes nodding towards the man by your side, who is still holding your hand as if you could disappear any moment.

“Steve, I’m sorry for trying to hurt you,” you breathe out at the sight of the tall blonde man, but he just shrugs with a warm smile.

“It’s alright. At least now we know that you could easily kick our ass at the same time,” he jokes nodding towards Bucky, though you all know they were holding back, not wanting to hurt you. You still remember the look in Bucky’s eyes when you held him at gunpoint. He could have easily disarmed you but it would have cost you at least a broken arm, yet he refused to lay a hand on you and believed that you could control yourself again.

When the team is gone and it’s just the two of you again in the room, Bucky sits at the edge of your bed, his fingers playing with your hand over the white sheets as you let yourself fall into the sense of safety again.

“You should have disarmed me, Bucky,” you tell him, breaking the silence.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I could have killed you,” you retort.

“I know,” he nods, his lips pressing into a thin line. “But I just couldn’t cause you any more pain.”

“The fact that I was hurting you was already a pain, Bucky. You should have just knock me out.”

“Would you ever do the same to me?” he questions and though you open your lips to answer, you realize that he is right. You would have never hurt him on purpose, not even if he was back at being the winter soldier. You could have never hurt your sweet Bucky, the man that means more than anything ever in your torturous life.

“See? How do you expect me to do it then?” he smiles softly. “But it doesn’t matter, you are free now. It’s all in the past.”

“It still broke my heart, seeing you like that.”

“I can only say the same,” he breathes out, his eyes softening on you. “I wanted to help you so bad, but I couldn’t…”

“You helped me a lot,” you smile at him, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of his forehead. He smiles back at you and through his ocean eyes are still looking tired and a little bloodshot, but there’s a tiny little glimmer in them, something you’ve seen before, it was the most apparent when Shuri was successful at ridding him from the winter soldier and you also saw it in London. You’ve been seeking this little shine for a long time and you’re happy to have it back.

“We should go on a vacation,” he suggests, his smile growing wider with each passing second.

“Oh, I didn’t know avengers had vacation days,” you tease him.

“They do, as much as they want,” he nods grinning. “Where would you want to go? Do you want to go back to London?” he questions as he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your bruised knuckles.

“Mm, we should go somewhere new,” you purse your lips. “I’ve always wanted to see Amsterdam.”

“Then Amsterdam it is,” he chuckles before leaning closer he kisses your lips gently with a promise of a bright future together.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[wkemeup]

9k Challenge Master List

Thank you to those who participated! Under the cut, you'll find the links to those who joined this writing challenge and the prompts they selected. This challenge is open ended, so feel free to participate whenever! All prompts will still be listed whether they were used or not.

If you choose to post after due date (May 29 2021) and would like to be added to the master list, please send me a message!

fluff prompts

✿ Character A initiates a prank war against Character B. Character B enlists Character C to help get revenge. 

✿ Character A accidentally ends a phone call to Character B with “I love you”  

✿ The moment Character A realizes they love Character B and it’s during the most simple, mundane moment ➝ Pancakes - @whatrambles ➝ Night Changes - @spideyspeaches

✿ 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.  

✿ Character A steps out of the elevator carrying paperwork piled up above their eyesight only to run directly into Character B. Papers go flying. Hands touch as they pick up the last folder. ➝ Southpaw - @gogolucky13

✿ Character A is feeling insecure about how they look. When Character B asks what’s wrong, [A] attempts to explain but [B] is genuinely confused because they can’t imagine a world in which [A] is anything but perfect. ➝ Little Black Dress - @thefallenbibliophilequote

✿ Character A leaves an embarrassing, drunk message on Character B’s voicemail and spends the rest of the night trying to discreetly delete it from [B]’s phone.   ➝ Started from a Call - @buckyswillow ➝ Drunken Confessions - @brooklyns-supersoldiers

✿ Character A finds out Character B was stood up on a date. [A] is determined to show [B] what a real first date should look like.   ➝ A Real First Date - @cxddlyash

✿ Character A runs a flower shop downtown. Character B is terribly allergic to flowers.

✿ 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. ➝ A Long Ways Away - @ai-unknown ➝ Just A Phone Call Away - @strwbrrybucky ➝ I’m here - @stanofsebstan ➝ Never too far from you - @cherryblossomskye

angst (with a happy ending 🤞🏻) prompts

✮ Character A cleans Character B’s wounds after a rough mission. [A]’s fingers linger over scarred muscle as they finish wrapping the bandage.   ➝ Deadweight - @loving-bucky-is-easier ➝ Deeper Wounds - @cunaeparker ➝ More Ways Than One - @xbuchananbarnes ➝ Southpaw - @gogolucky13 ➝ Iubirea Mea - @picturetoburnnn ➝ Grey - @valkyries-wings ➝ as long as we have each other - @jbuchanan-barnes ➝ Heart of the Night - @lailannajacobs

✮ 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] ➝ The Dock - @5-seconds-of-bucky ➝ Deserving - @hannoelle

✮ The moment Character A realizes they love Character B and it’s during the most dangerous, inconvenient moment

✮ Character A is being held hostage. Character B offers to trade themself in [A]’s place.   ➝ The Weeping - @thefanbasewhore

✮ 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]. ➝ I care for you - @dovemouth

✮ Character A’s current boyfriend/girlfriend/partner mocks Character B for their crush on their best friend, [A]. [B], feeling humiliated, withdraws from the friendship with [A], who is completely oblivious [B] has feelings for them. ➝ Sparklin Eyes - @19ana45

✮ Believing they’re about to die, Character A confesses their feelings for Character B before they pass out.  ➝ Guiding Light - @bemysugarbean ➝ A Matter of Time - @hannoelle ➝ Let Me Join The Stars & part 2- @bucksgoat

✮ Character A has a nightmare that ends up physically harming Character B. [A] refuses to sleep in the same room as [B] again in fear of it happening again.   ➝ Guilt Doesn’t Suit You - @itsamarvelfan3000

✮ Character A is possessed/controlled and attempts to harm Character B. [B] refuses to fight back in fear of hurting [A].   ➝ Prisoner - @watchmegetobsessed

✮ Character A is studying a fresh, nasty scar in the mirror. Character B approaches from behind, eyes drawn to the wound, an unreadable mix of anger and fear in their eyes as they say, “who did this to you?”   ➝ Straight Through the Heart - @loving-bucky-is-easier

kas’ favorite artists prompts

Dermot Kennedy – The Killer Was A Coward See there’s a hero in the crowd / and his heart starts beating loud / Says the killer took his friend / And decides that this is where it ends

Pheobe Bridgers – Chinese Satellite I’ve been running around in circles / Pretending to be myself / Why would somebody do this on purpose / When they could do something else?

Taylor Swift – This Is Me Trying I’ve been having a hard time adjusting / I had the shiniest wheels, now they’re rusting / I didn’t know if you’d care if I came back / I have a lot of regrets about that

Hozier – Better Love And I’ve never loved a darker blue / than the darkness I have known in you, honed in you ➝ Romania - @callmeluna ➝ White Wolf - @angrybirdcr

The 1975 – Me & You Together Song I’ve been in love with her for ages / And I can’t seem to get it right / I fell in love with her in stages / My whole life ➝ you fracture light again - @divine-mistake

Bleachers – Wake Me If you’re lonely lonely lonely wake me / I can’t believe I captured your heart

The Lumineers – Life in the City And if the sun don't shine on me today / And if the subways flood and bridges break / Will you just lay down and dig your grave? / Or will you rail against your dying day? ➝ Brooklyn Honey - @sanguineterrain

Mumford and Sons – Delta When it feels like nothing else matters / Will you put your arms around me?

[hanoella]

A Matter of Time (1/2)

Pairing: Bucky x healer!Reader

Word Count: Just under 3k

Summary: Healing others took a lot out of you. It was only a matter of time until it was going to be too much on your body.

Warnings: Hardcore angst, blood, grave injury, explicit description of injury, medical life support, needles? still not good at this stuff.

A/N: Another @wkemeup writing challenge prompt! Thanks so much everyone for all the love and support on my first fic!

Prompt: Believing they’re about to die, Character A confesses their feelings for Character B before they pass out.

---

           It was only a matter of time.

          Healing always took so much out of you. One day, it was going to be too much for your body to handle. You hadn’t explicitly told anyone that it drains you. Only the observant picked up on it. It’s the reason why Natasha never asked for your help with minor things. It’s also why Bucky plain refused your help nowadays. He was hyper aware of everything around him and that included you. He always saw the light sheen of sweat forming on your brow, the way you became slightly breathless, and the increase in your pulse. When there was a major injury, he was very well aware of the tell-tale signs of exhaustion.

          The very first time that he let you work on his shoulder, he had asked what it was like out of curiosity.

          “Well… it’s kind of like projecting the pain onto myself. I’ve always been very in tune with my body. So ever since this,” you pause to gesture with your hands. “I can usually tell what the problem is. For example, I can tell that this specific muscle is bothering you,” you say as you gently put pressure on the specific aching tendon in his arm. Bucky winced before feeling the warmth reach deep into his muscles. He let out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Turning slightly so that you could partly see his face, he thanked you. For a reason he couldn’t understand, a big smile slowly developed on your face.

          “What?” He asked.

          “Nothing, I’m just glad you finally let me work on it. I can see now that you’ve been… suffering. I’m just happy you’re feeling better.”

          Bucky felt his face flush slightly and turned back to face forward. Amused, you started humming lightly as you continued your work.

           Not that he would admit it but since then, there may have been… other reasons why he is always paying close attention to you. You reminded him of Steve. Somebody who was truly selfless. The one to make the sacrifice play. You may be less on the forefront of the battles but the work and the sacrifices you make for the world were just as big. Bucky found that he admired you for that. It stirred up feelings in his chest that he chose to ignore. It also made him nervous.

           Every time you were needed, he was assigned as your bodyguard. You could handle yourself better than the average civilian, but you wouldn’t consider yourself a fighter. Considering that he preferred to stay out of the spotlight, as well as the fact that his relationship with the public was still rocky, it ended up being the ideal position for him. At first, he was nervous because he was protecting something incredibly important. More so than any jewel or riches that existed. You were someone that could practically bring someone back from the dead. If he couldn’t protect you, he was practically sentencing anyone who would need your help in the future, to death. Certainly, a weighty responsibility that would make anyone nervous.

           It grew to be more than that though. Each time he protected you from a threat, no matter how small, your appreciation made it worth it. Your gratitude, which manifested itself into words, notes, and small gifts, sustained him. He had a hidden drawer filled with smiley faces on post it notes and cute little Tupperware containers that had held homemade sweet treats.

          But his favorite reward was not anything he could bring back to his apartment. It was your touch. The small brushes against his arm grew into touches and squeezes. In turn, it grew into grasping his hand while thanking him and once, a quick hug before you jumped back and apologized. He blushed lightly and looked away, letting you know that it was okay, he didn’t mind. Actually, Bucky would’ve preferred for that moment to have lasted forever. Because when you pulled away, he was suddenly aware of how starved he felt without your touch. That one action had been the gateway to a life filled with longing. He would chase that feeling forever; He could not bear the thought of being without you. That’s what made him nervous. He felt like he couldn’t think clearly anymore around you. He was going to make a mistake.

          It was only a matter of time.

---

          Waiting in the Quinjet with Bucky, you listened for updates on the mission. This time, they had gotten intel about a subbranch of Hydra dedicated to chemical warfare. Fearing another threat like anthrax, you set out to stop it. Everyone was in the building and you were on standby in case any pathogens got loose. Wanda could contain it, and you could eradicate it by healing all of the infected, and then they could disinfect the area. Hopefully, though, it was just a precaution.

           The atmosphere was calm, the lights off since the night sky was clear in the mountains. Moonlight filtering in through the front windshield, you were taking Bucky through the latest playlist you had curated for him when Nat radioed in.

           “We’ve almost got the lab secured. No injuries.”

           “Word.” You radioed back casually as Bucky looked at you confused.

           You were about to explain the response and pull up urban dictionary when Steve radioed back as well.

           “We had a group escape, some guards protecting the head researcher. They’re headed towards the jet. He blocked off the tunnel he used to escape so they’ll get to you before we can reach him.”

           “Copy that.” Bucky radioed back as he got up.

           When you got up to follow him, he gave you a look.

           “Hey, don’t look at me like that! I’m not completely useless. Besides, I think I could take on a lab lackey.”

          “I don’t want you to get caught up in the rest of it.” He responded seriously.

          Looking at him and realizing it wasn’t up for debate, your expression sobered up.

          “Okay. Just be careful, please.”

          He nodded as he heard voices approaching. He headed down the ramp and met them outside of the jet. You peaked out of the opening of the ramp as he took them out one by one. When all five were on the ground, you came out and checked to make sure he was okay.

          “Wow, impressive.” You commented, nudging one of the guys with your foot.

          “Wait,” you said, eyebrows scrunching together. “None of these guys are in a lab coat.”

           Just as he was about to respond, he glanced to the side and quickly pushed you out of the way. The lab coat tackled him where you had just been standing. They went rolling towards the edge of the cliff and you shouted his name.

           “Bucky!”

           He kicked the researcher away from him while still on the ground. As the man started rolling off of the cliff, he grabbed Bucky’s leg. Bucky started scrambling to find a grip as the scientist slid off the cliff, trying to take Bucky with him. You ran over to the edge, grabbing Bucky’s arm to support him as he tried to kick the guard off of his leg.

           “With you out of the picture, the path forward will be successful. Hail Hydra.” He shouted as he grabbed a knife from his pocket and stabbed it into Bucky’s thigh.

           Bucky grunted loudly as the scientist took the knife out and stabbed it back in. You strained to hold him up as he struggled to kick him off, blood streaming down his leg. With one more heavy kick, the man lost his grip and fell down the mountain. At the same time, the force of the kick had loosened the ground under you. There was a crack and you locked eyes with Bucky in panic.

          You cried out as you used all of your strength to bring him back up over the cliff. It started falling away as soon as Bucky had found his footing and he lunged towards the jet while grabbing you. He held you with one arm and kept you from hitting the ground as the other forearm took the impact and held you both up. Looking incredulously at the strength of his arm and then turning your head back to look at him, he gently set you down. You were both breathing heavily as you lifted your head to see the platform you were just standing on was now gone.

           You laid your head back down and closed your eyes in relief. Bucky took the opportunity to take you in. Your hair formed a halo around your face perfectly as it was spread out on the grass and the moon’s light made you look like your skin was glowing. You looked ethereal. Before you got the chance to see him gazing at you, he flopped over onto his back next to you, catching his breath. You looked over at him, the stars now reflected in your eyes, and started laughing lightly. He didn’t know what you were laughing at, but it made him start laughing. As it subsided, you sat up and faced him.

           “Can I please heal those?” You asked, gesturing towards his leg. You had never worked on his thighs and you wanted to make sure he was comfortable.

           He paused, partly out of shyness and partly not wanting to tire you out. Your gaze lingered on the wounds and he saw how much it worried you. He nodded and you leaned over to take a look. As you moved the blood-soaked fabric out of the way, he winced. The wounds were deep and bleeding still. You focused your hands overtop the injury and concentrated. The soft white glow enveloped your hands and his leg. He watched as the bleeding started slowing. After a few moments, the wound started closing and the pain started easing. Bucky tried to get up as soon as it became bearable, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him. Though your breath was slightly strained, the determination in your eyes stopped him and he slowly laid back down. Soon enough, he couldn’t even tell that anything had happened. Once it was completely healed, you then flopped down next to him.

          You both settled, watching the clouds pass in front of the moon and stars. After you caught your breath, you spoke:

           “Bucky Barnes, I owe you my life. Several times over. Thank you.”

           “I think you’re the one who just saved my life, doll.” He said, amused.

           “Ooh, doll. Somebody’s finally warming up to me.” You said, laughter in your tone as you stood up. “Do you call every damsel in distress you save a doll?”

          The answer to that question was “no” but before he could respond, you held your hand out to him. Bucky sat up and accepted it, standing all the way up. As he let go of your hand, you wrapped your arms around his midsection, cheek resting against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Bucky swallowed and then slowly brought his arms around you, his chin resting on the top of your head. Content.

          Unexpectedly, he stiffened. Something was wrong.

          “Bucky?” You called his name hesitantly as you stepped out from his grasp.

          You peered at his face and saw his pupils so blown out that you could barely see the blue anymore.

          “Bucky!?” You shouted as he fell to the ground.

          He couldn’t control anything except for his eyes as muscles all over his body started twitching. You knelt down and panicked, laying your hands against his chest, searching for an explanation. You hovered your hands over his heart and felt it so tight and strained it was barely pumping. You felt as if you were choking, and you weren’t even feeling the full effect.

          Cardiac arrest. How is this possible?

          You racked your brain for explanations. You instantly thought of the researcher. You traced a strange substance you felt through his veins until you found where it originated- from the knife wound.

           Poison.

           At this point, it had reached his heart. What little it was pumping was spreading the poison. It’s completely taken over his blood. You locked eyes with Bucky and saw the pain and panic in his eyes, his clenched jaw, and the tendons in his neck, outlined clearly by the strain. He was suffering.

          No. Much worse.

          He was dying.

          You had to save him.

          You interlocked one hand over top of the other and started doing compressions on his chest. What was normally a soft white light was now blinding. You could see the outline of his heart, and with each pump, the white light travelled an inch down his veins. Slowly, with each thrust, the white light made it further and further out from his heart.

          “What happened!?” Steve shouted. You hadn’t even heard the team come back.

          “We saw the light and came back as fast as we could!” Sam said.

          You shrugged Steve’s hand off your shoulder as you continued compressions.

          “Poison.” You panted.

          Thump.

          “He’s-”

          Thump.

          “Dying.”

          Thump.

          You hadn’t realized you were crying. Tears now spilled freely onto Bucky’s jacket.

          Steve stayed kneeling next to you as the rest of the team stood back, watching in amazement as the light made its way through Bucky’s body.

          Bucky locked eyes with him. He placed a hand on Buck’s head and wiped the sweat off of his brow.

          “You’re gonna be okay, Buck. You’ll pull through.” He said with a small reassuring smile.

          It wasn’t himself he was worried about. He’d never seen you exert yourself this much. He was in so much pain but dying would be better than seeing you go through this.

          You shouted with each thrust, trying to keep yourself from tiring out and stopping. The white light had made its way back around to the heart and Bucky’s entire body started relaxing. You felt relief as he stopped seizing and his eyes started closing. As you wiped the sweat off of your face, you realized your nose was bleeding. Just as you were about to sit back, you froze.

          There’s no heartbeat. You desperately connected yourself back to his body and felt that his organs were shutting down. You started compressions again, this time more vigorously. You were going to have to filter his organs for multiple rounds to reach every part, every cell affected by the poison. You wailed, crying harder as you felt his ribs crack from the force and then heal, only to be cracked again. You were starting to get lightheaded, and your muscles were burning. You could not keep it up for much longer. Desperate to get him back, you call to Steve beside you.

          “Steve. There’s. Adrenaline. In. Jet.” You gasped between each push.

          Steve was so distraught between seeing the both of you that he didn’t move right away. Natasha instinctively ran to the jet and brought it back, digging through it until she found the syringe and uncapped the needle.

          Natasha knew she didn’t need to confirm whether you really wanted to do this.

          “Injecting now.”

          She thrust the needle into your thigh and clicked the top, releasing the spring and shooting the needle into the muscle.

          You wailed again in anguish, fighting through the pain until you felt it hit your heart. The light had turned into a pillar, a beacon in the sky. Your hair once again in a halo, floating around you. The team had to shield their eyes and brace themselves against the force that hit them. You put newfound strength into each push until you could feel that every single drop of poison was filtered out of his body. Finally, Bucky opened his eyes.

          You stopped pushing on his chest.

          “Bucky?” you asked hoarsely.

          He was still coming to but was well enough to sit up. He clutched at his chest and found no pain. He then looked at his hand.

          “How did you-?”

          You fell over.

          Bucky scrambled over to you and pulled you into his arms. You coughed against his chest, bloodying his shirt. He looked at you and then at Steve, mouth agape. Steve could only look sadly back.

          He cradled you and brushed the hair out of your face, blood from your nose and mouth smearing before being covered by the new blood steadily streaming out.

          “I’m sorry,” You said softly, the sleepy look on your face deceivingly masking the gravitas of the situation.

          “Don’t apologize.” He said quietly, pausing to keep the tears from showing. It proved to be pointless as his voice cracked, asking:

          “Why would you do this? You should’ve just let me die.”

          You closed your eyes.

          “Because I love you, Buck. Always have.” You slurred tiredly.

          You whimpered and then stilled.

          Bucky cried while rocking you in his arms.

 ---

Part II

          You opened your eyes to a black room. No, not a room. There were no walls. You glanced down at your hands. You could still see them so it wasn’t dark, just… black.

          “Well, hello.”

          You spun around and saw the source of the voice.

          A serene, beautiful woman who had long dark hair and dressed in a green tunic addressed you.

          “What has brought you here, young one?”

Read Part II Here

[jbuchanan-barnes]

as long as we have each other

Summary: While on a mission, something unexpected happens to Bucky.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 2,359

Warnings: Canon typical violence, mention of illegal weapons dealing, blood. This is the first time I'm posting something that I've written, and I'm very nervous. I feel like that should be a warning 🙈

A/N: Hi! This is for @wkemeup 's 9k writing challenge - Character A cleans Character B's wounds after a rough mission. [A]'s fingers linger over scarred muscle as they finish wrapping the bandage.

Congrats on 9k Kas!! Also, thank you to @thefanbasewhore for proof reading!!

divider credits to @bwbatta

After coming back from a two week long solo mission in Warsaw, you were just about ready to take a nice long bath and sleep for a week. As you walked off the quinjet, it was no surprise to see a certain metal armed super soldier waiting for you with his arms crossed.

As you close the space between you, his eyes rake over you from top to bottom to check for injuries. “I was starting to think your mission would never end,” Bucky says, smirking down at you. “And by the looks of it, I think you thought the same thing.” “Shut up,” you respond with a halfhearted glare. His smirk melts into a gentle smile as he pulls you into his arms. “I missed you,” Bucky replies as he buries his face into your neck. “Two weeks is too long to go without seeing you.” You hum in agreement as your hands travel to his hair. After a few moments of standing tangled together, you break the silence. “As much as I’d love to hug you forever, I’m dying to get out of this suit.” Bucky pulls out of your embrace, kisses you on the head, and gently takes your hand. You let him lead you through the compound towards your room, but before you’re able to make it past the kitchen, you’re interrupted. “Oh! Y/N, Barnes!” Tony exclaims, “Just the people I needed to talk to.” You groan just as Bucky responds. “Can it wait, Stark? Y/N just got back from Poland.” “Unfortunately,” Tony replies, “I need you both to Brazil tomorrow.” “There’s a guy who has been harboring stolen SHIELD tech since the incident at the triskelion, and he finally popped back up on our radar,” he elaborates. “You can’t send someone else?” You inquire, your lips turning down into a frown. “I’m afraid not,” Tony sounds apologetic as he responds. “I need all hands on deck for this mission. I’m even pulling Steve out of retirement.” Tony winks at you. “Luckily for you,” he continues, “This mission requires us to stay at one of the fanciest hotels in Río.” Tony glances at his watch before adding “I need you two in the briefing room by eight am tomorrow so we can go over the details before we depart. Until then, go rest Y/N.” You take a deep breath and nod as Bucky agrees.

As you finally enter your shared room, Bucky jokingly says “We should have snuck in through the back way.” “It’s fine,” you tell him dejectedly. “Tony would have found another way to contact us. It is what it is.” Your long bath would have to wait.

As you rush to take a quick shower, Bucky returns to the kitchen to make you something to eat. When he comes back, you scarf down the leftovers as Bucky takes his turn in the bathroom. By the time you’re finished, Bucky is all ready for bed. While you brush your teeth, he takes the opportunity to climb into bed and check his phone. When you walk out of the bathroom, you can’t help but take a minute to admire your boyfriend. Although he looks very attractive sitting in bed shirtless, your heart flutters at the peaceful look on his face. Bucky has been through so much, but with you, he’s totally at ease.

You’re broken out of your reverie by Bucky’s soft voice. “Hey,” he says with a gentle smile. “C’mere, doll.” You crawl into bed and let Bucky pull you into his arms. As you lay your head on his chest, Bucky idly traces random patterns onto your back. Just as you’re starting to drift off, his voice pulls you back. “How are you feeling about the mission tomorrow?” “Honestly,” you drowsily respond. “If Tony is okay with giving us all the details the day of, it should be pretty easy.” Bucky hums in agreement. “Why?” you continue. “You’re not worried about it, are you?” “Oh, no!” Bucky denies. “I just wanted to make sure you aren’t worried about it since you aren’t getting a break.” “I’ll be fine,” you say, pretending to be annoyed. “If my boyfriend will be quiet so I can sleep.” Bucky laughs and kisses your forehead. “Okay, okay!” he yields to your teasing. “Good night, sweetheart.” As you start to fall asleep, you sleepily respond. “Good night Buckaroo. I love you.” Just before you drift into unconsciousness, you hear Bucky’s quiet voice. “I love you too, doll.”

The next morning, when you arrive in the briefing room, Tony is too chipper for eight in the morning. While you would rather be in bed, he seems as if he’s already had two cups of coffee (at least). Bucky appears to be neither tired, nor overly energetic, while everyone else falls somewhere in between.

“Antonio Silva is the guy we’re looking for,” Tony begins by showing everyone a picture of the man you need to find. “He is originally from Campinas, Brazil.” Tony takes a moment to pull up a picture of the map.  “Based on our intell, he is planning on making a sale tonight in São Paulo.” “You said he has stolen tech?” you inquire. Steve takes the opportunity to speak up. “He actually worked for SHIELD before it fell. Well, hydra technically.” He turns to Natasha. “Did you see his name anywhere in the files you released?” Nat shakes her head. “No. I don’t think he was important enough to have in the files.” “I guess that explains why he turned on them and stole tech,” Sam laughs. “Either way,” Tony directs everyone’s attention back to the mission briefing. “He’s planning on selling to black market weapons dealers at the ten year anniversary gala of the hotel, and we need to stop the sale, arrest Silva, and capture the weapons dealers.” Tony pulls up a map of the hotel. “Steve will be disguised as a bartender, and Sam and I will be flying above the hotel, should anything go south. Y/N and Barnes, you two will be disguised as a mob boss and his wife looking to purchase some weapons. As soon as you make contact, make the arrest. Natasha, I want you floating around the room taking inventory of the weapons dealers in the room. A team of agents will be joining us to assist with taking people into custody should they not be compliant. Since Silva has the weapons in storage somewhere, as long as we have him and the dealers in custody, taking back the weapons should be easy. We just need the guy who knows where they are. Does anyone have any questions?” A series of no’s are heard as everyone responds. “Then everyone go pack, and be ready for the quinjet to take off in an hour.”

The flight is relatively quiet, interrupted only by Sam giving out some last minute instructions. However, as soon as the jet lands, everyone is thrown into go mode.

By the time you make it to the hall where the celebration is being held, the party is in full swing. You watch Natasha silently slip into the room in total spy mode. She glances over at you and nods slightly for you and Bucky to make your entrance. You make your way to the bar for the next few minutes as you watch Nat float around the room.

After about ten minutes, she walks up to the bar and asks Steve for a drink, discreetly informing you that all of the weapons dealers are here. Steve signals for all of the agents to fall into place as you and Bucky turn to approach Silva. Before you make it to where Silva is, he takes one look at Bucky and bolts. That’s when all hell breaks loose. Agents start drawing their guns left and right, while the dealers begin pulling out their weapons to fight back. As the gunfire starts, Tony and Sam join the fight, shield flying, while Bucky takes off after Silva. As soon as you know that they’ll be fine without you, you take off after Bucky. Once Bucky and Silva are in your line of sight, you can tell that Bucky is struggling. It’s apparent that Silva has found some way to disable Bucky’s vibranium arm. As Bucky does his best to fight one handed, Silva punches him in the nose before pulling out two knives. Before you can reach them, you watch in horror as Silva thrusts a knife into Bucky’s thigh, while slicing at his throat with the other knife. Bucky barely dodges the second blade, but not before the tip catches his collar bone.

As soon as you get to them, you tackle Silva to give Bucky the chance to reset his arm. You’re able to block a few of Silva’s attempts to stab you, and kick the knives out of his hands before Bucky joins the fight again.

When it’s apparent that you and Bucky have the upper hand again, Silva pauses. “I really didn’t want to do this to you Barnes, but you left me no choice.” Before you have time to wonder what Silva is talking about, he continues.

“Sputnik.”

Before the word is even out of his mouth, Bucky goes rigid and keels over. As he collapses, your whole world collapses with him. Shock, confusion, and panic roll through you as Steve arrives just in time to handle Silva. You rush to Bucky’s side, and as you find his steady pulse, your anxious heart settles just a little. There is chaos all around you, but you don’t have time to care as you focus on Bucky. As soon as Silva and the dealers are in custody, Sam and Steve help carry Bucky back to your hotel room. After they leave, you take the opportunity to pull out your first aid supplies. Just as you’re finishing collectiving everything you need, Bucky begins to regain consciousness.

“What happened?” His confusion is evident, even in his groggy state. “I’m not entirely sure,” you tell him, hesitantly. “Silva said a word and it was like it just flipped your off switch.” Bucky stays silent as you carefully help him sit up. “I need to clean your knife wounds,” you say gently. “Which means we need to get you out of your tactical gear.” Bucky helps you undress him to the best of his current ability, but he seemingly can’t let the situation pass without playfully making light of what’s happening. “You know, this would be a whole lot more romantic if you lit a few candles.” You snort in response and reply, “It would be a whole lot more romantic if you weren’t bleeding on the sheets.”

Once Bucky is stripped to just his boxers, you help him lean back against the headboard. Bucky silently watches as you pull out the butterfly bandages and antiseptic wipes. You’ve done this so many times that you don’t even bother to tell Bucky that it might sting. He knows the drill, but that doesn’t stop you from doing your best to be gentle. During his seventy years of being tortured and brainwashed, too many people have been rough with him and have treated him harshly. You know he’s not fragile, but you can’t help but pretend that each gentle touch will replace each bad memory of painful touches. Bucky doesn’t flinch as you wipe the cut on his thigh with the wipe. He simply watches as you move to apply the butterfly bandages in the absence of stitches. You wrap the cohesive bandage over the wound and around Bucky’s thigh, but you both know it really doesn’t matter. His wounds will stitch themselves together within a day or two anyway. As you move up to clean the cut just above his left collarbone, your eyes trace the marred scars where metal meets flesh. After you clean and bandage the cut, you let your fingers lightly trail over the scars. You follow the trail of your fingers with soft kisses before looking up to meet Bucky’s eyes. The way he’s looking at you could only be described as adoration, and he gently grabs the back of your neck to bring you in for a kiss. The kiss is soft, but no less toe curling. Like Bucky is using the kiss to convey the way he feels, without knowing how to put those feelings into words. When you break apart, you’re reminded that you need to tend to the small cuts and bruises on his face. You wipe the blood off and apply the antiseptic onto some of the smaller cuts before moving on to the bridge of Bucky’s nose. After cleaning the wound, you smile slightly as you run your finger down his nose. The action makes Bucky scrunch his nose slightly, and you laugh lightly at his reaction. The silence is comfortable and you’re both at ease with each other enough to not always require words.

You help Bucky settle into the bed before cleaning up the first aid supplies and moving to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

As you finish up in the bathroom and climb into bed, Bucky breaks the lingering silence. “I’m not sure what happened earlier.” You can hear the concern in his voice. “I thought Shuri removed all the trigger words, but apparently there was a fail safe buried deep in my head.” You ponder his words before responding. “We can start looking into it tomorrow. I can call Shuri and see if she has time for us to go see her.” “For right now,” you continue, “let’s just rest.” Bucky nods before tilting your chin up so your lips can meet. He kisses you softly and slowly before pulling away. “I love you.” He tells you with conviction, like he doesn’t know what might happen tomorrow. “I love you too, James Buchanan. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together.” Bucky smiles slightly while pulling you closer to him. You may not have all the answers, but you have each other. As you both drift off to sleep, that’s enough.