#n was basically lashing out on me bc shes stressed about work

[namjoonsheaux]

.

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Truth Pt. 14

Master List @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Request:

What’s up sug! sorry you’re struggling right now but I’ve come to help you If you could bring this to light for me I’d absolutely love for YOU TO DO JT So basically Bucky X Enhanced reader who are fuckin enemies. Hate each other to every last fiber of their beings bc Bucky is rude and she calls him out on it. AnywHs, they get drunk, truth or dare (go crZy baby) and LOTS LF dirty talk if u wanna do smut but if u don’t then buck taking care of her while she’s drunk cause she admitted her feelings

Pairing: Bucky X Reader (Enhanced)

Summary: Since The Avengers gave you a home the only blight has been Bucky Barnes, a ghost from your past that you can’t seem to shake. It makes you hate him. The feeling, it seems, is mutual. But… a simple game reveals that maybe things aren’t quite so simple. (Post Winter Soldier AU)

Warnings: Angst, feels, blood, pain, and... fluff

A/N: I’M NOT CRYING YOU’RE CRYING! 

FUUUUCK. Thank y’all so much for your support and love of this series. It’s been a runaway train from the beginning and I’ve enjoyed even the utterly painful parts. I thought I was gonna wait and post this on Wednesday like I usually do but honestly... after the last chapter I think everyone waited long enough. 

I hope you all enjoy this. Thank you thank you thank you!!!

Tags are open!

@midnightdream83 @mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415@peachthatdrinkslemonade @wonderlandmind4 @piensa-bonito @handplucked@buckysstar @sam-jae @marauderconvos –harder @for-the-love-of-the-fandom  @marvelousmeggi  @jewelofwinter  @fairislesheets @animegirlgeeky  @lydklein1  @katecolleen @siriuslycloudy2  @zannemes

The concussive force from the superheated air knocks everyone back. Free of Stark’s grip, Bucky hits his knees, gaping at the glowing pillar of white light reaching from the ground into the sky. It would be beautiful if he knew you weren’t trapped in the middle of it.

It only lasts for a couple of seconds before it’s gone. The sky cracks with thunder as it cools, clouds swirling in response to the unnatural disturbance. The ground shakes heavily for several minutes, buildings creak, a few close to the now leveled main building collapse.

Then… silence as rain begins to fall from the angry sky.

“J… Jarvis… talk to me…”

“The energy emitted… it was equivalent to a massive nuclear detonation… somehow Miss Y/N managed to contain it… had she not the city would have been decimated… The force caused an earthquake, around a five on the Richter scale. There will be damage but nothing major.”

Bucky hardly registers what any of that means. He bolts to his feet and begins running. Only one thing matters to him at this moment. He has to find you, no matter what shape you may be in he has to bring you home, he will not leave you here… he can’t. If Stark or anyone tried to stop him he’d kill them. That simple.

He’s about to jump into the crater that was once the main building when a hand grabs his shoulder. Spinning on his heels he’s ready to lash out at who ever had the gall to stop him. Steve’s mournful gaze freezes Bucky’s rage in an instant.

“We’ll find her Buck. I swear.” Bucky stares at him for a second before managing a nod and the two men slide down.

Desperately his eyes scan for anything that will give him a clue. But it’s just endless, charred, steaming rubble.

He hears Tony overhead, “Come on Jarvis, tell me you got something.” If Jarvis responds it’s not on everyone’s coms. Sam is also above them scanning, while Hill and Clint help Natasha down into the crater. No one seems certain of what they’re looking for, only that they have to look. Have to try.

After about ten minutes that feel like five hours Sam pipes up, “I think we got something!” He’s near the center, landing softly, no one sure how solid the ground beneath them is.

Bucky rushes over as Jarvis chimes in on all their coms, “Weak life signs. She seems to be in an air pocket.”

“Help me with this guys,” Tony goes to a large slab of wall. Carefully Bucky, Steve, and Tony lift the slab and lay it gently down, not wanting to cause the debris to shift too heavily. There’s still an unnerving groaning sound from somewhere beneath their feet.

They move more debris, working at a miserably slow pace. Finally, they lift a piece of strangely warped concrete and…

He sees you, the debris around you curved and almost melted forming a sort of cocoon. You’re on your back, large patches of your tac uniform have been burned away, your exposed flesh black and red and blistered, your right arm is pinned under your back at a sickening angle, clearly badly broken. Blood trickles from your mouth, nose, and ears. But you’re alive.

Unthinking Bucky drops down hands reaching, aching to touch you. “If you touch her I’ll put a bullet in you Barnes,” Sam barks settling next to you. Bucky glares, “Moving her you could kill her and I’m not going to fucking let that happen. We clear?”

He’s right. Bucky nods. Thankful for Sam.

“Jarvis we need the Nightingale.”

Within five minutes you’re on some kind of Stark tech stretcher. Sam carefully arranges your busted arm, while straps gently and automatically hold you in place.

“Let’s get her home,” Clint says from behind Bucky, patting his back in an attempt at comfort.

Everyone is quiet on the ride back. Sam monitors your vitals, your worryingly faint heartbeat drops over and over and Bucky feels himself die just a little each time. Thankfully you’re still hanging on when they land at the tower.

Medical is prepped and ready. Instantly they surround you, Dr. Cabot barking orders in her stern tone. Bucky follows but Steve grabs him, “Let them help her.”

“Get the fuck off me Steve I can’t-”

“You can’t go in the O.R. Buck,” his grip tightens, “you can’t. But they’re gonna do everything they can. She’s tough as nails. She’s gonna pull through this.” Tony walks past them guiding Natasha and Bucky shoots him a murderous glance. “Come on.”

Bucky refuses to leave medical while you’re in surgery. Everyone but Tony waits with him. Even Bruce joins them looking stressed. It’s just as good. He’s of the mind to literally rip Stark’s spine out.

Six excruciating hours later Dr. Cabot comes out. “We got her stable.” Bucky shoots up. “Some… some of the injuries were unique… the heat…” She shakes her head, “We did our best. Now we wait and hope.”

He feels like he’s gonna be sick. “Can… c… can I…”

“Soon,” The doctor gives Bucky a tender smile. “Get cleaned up and by the time you’re done we’ll have her ready for you to see.”

Bucky nods but can’t seem to bring himself to move. Clint and Steve coax him to the elevator. All the guys come along to the locker room they use for post mission clean up. No one willing to leave him alone.

Cleaned and changed they all head back up. Natasha is sitting with Hill, their hands clasped, in the little lounge area when they get there. Both looking morose.

“You can go see her,” Natasha’s voice is far away. “Wanted you to be first.”

Bucky runs the short distance to the private rooms the medical bay has. In the door, he freezes. You’re black and blue, bruises already blossoming. Bandages cover your arms from the burns, plus a few on your face.

“She’s breathing on her own,” Dr. Cabot comes up from behind, startling him. He jumps, but doesn’t lash out. “Sorry.” All he can manage is a nod in response before stepping in.

“That’s a good sign,” her tone is trying to reassure him but it’s not working. “She’s gonna need a new shoulder but that can wait… Just… there were internal burns. We aren’t sure how they’ll heal… and the head trauma… that’s always tricky.” She sighs, “Time will tell. Being enhanced… changes things, hopefully in this case for the better. No one should have made it through that… She’s strong.”

He nods as if anything she said sunk in and walks over to the bed collapsing on the chair next to it.

“Talk to her,” he looks up and she’s smiling. “Let her know you’re here. I’ll check in later.”

As soon as the door clicks behind her hot tears begin to stream silently down his face as he stares at you. He’s terrified to touch you, so scared that he’ll somehow make this worse. And talk… his tongue feels like lead in his mouth. Even his brain is swirling with different languages, unable to lock on to his mother tongue.

This is his fault. That’s the only solid thought he has right now. He shouldn’t have let you go in that room. Shouldn’t have let you anywhere near this mission… You hating him forever for being a controlling asshole would be better than this… at least you’d be alive.

Then he realizes there is one thing. One thing he has to find a way to say. Russian, Mandarin, French, Spanish, they all try to come out before he coaches his tongue to the proper English syllables. Leaning close to your ear he whispers, voice thick with regret and grief, “I love you, Y/N. I’m so sorry…”

-

Five days later and your bruises have faded some, the burns healing, but you haven’t opened your eyes… Bruce assured him that you clearly have brain activity, that’s supposed to mean you’re still with them… still fighting. It’s not much comfort.

Bucky has hardly left this room, he’s spoken even less… well to anyone but you, and even then only when you’re alone. Steve and Natasha have kept the most vigil with him, he thinks they’ve worked out some sort of six on six off schedule. The others come in at least once a day, sad smiles and soft words. That is everyone but Stark who’s kept his distance.

Steve finally convinces Bucky that he needs to step away for more than five minutes. Well, convinces isn’t the word… he practically begs. Bucky agrees on the grounds that they won’t leave the tower and Jarvis is to notify him immediately of even the smallest changes to your condition.

They only go up to the roof for about a half hour. The air and sunlight actually do feel good, they clear his head just enough.

As the two men ride back down Bucky turns to his friend, “Thank you.” Steve looks shocked for a moment before relief floods his face. They’re the first words he’s said to him in days.

Without a word, Steve pulls Bucky into a bone crushing hug. In all their years of friendship, Bucky rarely let himself be weak around Steve. He needed to be strong for the scrappy little shit because no one else was gonna… but now, in this elevator after both their worlds have fallen, risen, and now Bucky feels as if it’s fallen again he leans into Steve’s strength for just a minute. “You got it, Buck.”

As they approach your room music spills from the open door. Bucky feels the blood in his veins turn cold. Stark.

“I know you have to hate this one Sparks, so feel free to tell me what a lame ass I am… berate me… anything…” Tony’s voice is rough. He’s leaned back in a chair balancing on two legs by your bed, hands cradling the back of his head. “The 90’s were a tough time for music but there were some gems.”

“Bucky, don’t-” Steve warns. Stark shoots up as Bucky barrels into the room.

He grabs Stark by his tee and slams him against the wall. Surprisingly though all the hateful things he’s thought to scream at Stark over the last few days won’t fly from his lips now. Instead, he holds him there, cold eyes boring into him.

“For what it’s worth I wanna kick my ass too…” The sincerity in Stark’s voice hits Bucky like a blow and he releases him though he doesn’t move away.

Stark’s eyes wander behind Bucky to you, “It was the one thing-” His voice cracks and he clears his throat trying to gain composure before continuing. “It was the only thing she ever asked of me. I asked her to trust us, to join us. I asked her to play hero… fuck.” He runs a hand over his face, catching the tears before they can fall. “She never asked anything of me… until you.” Bucky turns away, not wanting to hear it but unable to leave.

“She asked me to promise that if shit went sideways I would keep your dumbass safe because she knew you’d try to follow her into any deathtrap that came up. The only thing she asked.” His voice is shaking with emotion, “And you can hate me until the day I eventually eat it but I’d do it again in a heartbeat for her.”

Silence rings between the three men, only broken by the sounds of the music. “Even if you hate it play the music. There’s some stuff I know she’ll like. And even if she doesn’t… maybe she’ll get annoyed enough to wake up and have at me.”

As Tony pushes past him Bucky’s arm shoots out, holding him in place. He doesn’t look at him, scared that if he does he won’t be able to say the words. “I don’t hate you, Tony.” Finally, he turns, Tony’s face is bereft, “Keep the music coming, she likes your shitty playlists.”

A sad smile curls Tony’s lips. “They’re only shitty because you’re too old to know what’s good, Manchurian.”

-

Day 12 rolls up and Bucky begins to feel himself shutdown in a way he hasn’t since he’s been here. It’s a detachment he was familiar with as the Soldier, as though he’s observing the world through plate glass.

He’s going through the motions they all expect. Eating, drinking, talking when he needs to, even managing a half hearted smile here and there. All of it is muscle memory though, autopilot to get through the times when other people are watching.

Honestly, it’s easier to feel that way. Easier when they’re there and he has to play a part. When they’re gone… he feels it. It’s like there’s a crushing weight on his chest. He thinks he’d take the chair a thousand times over this grief. Rather mind numbing pain than this slow suffocation.

But still, he stays by your side. He plays Tony’s playlists, some of his music, some of yours. Sometimes he sings to you, softly, old songs he remembers from his life before. Maybe he tells you about something he remembers or old dreams he had of who he’d be. Over and over he whispers those those three little words he should have been saying long before now.

By day 17 he’s just numb. Your bruises have faded, the burns almost healed leaving pink scars in places that may linger for a few years. The doctors insist that your brain activity is promising but you haven’t even fluttered your eyes, not even a squeeze to his hand, nothing… despite the times, alone in the wee hours of the morning, that he’s begged for you to.

On day 21 he thinks this is worse than death. Just watching you lay there day after day night after night. Performing for the others. Hoping and hoping and hoping for something that may never happen.

Tonight he doesn’t sing, doesn’t play music, doesn’t tell stories. He lays his head down on the bed, silence holding you both tight. Tears stream from his eyes and he counts your breaths until oblivion takes him.

-

No one ever tells you what it’s like to almost die.

There’s always the wondrous stories about people who die and come back. The white light, loved ones telling you it’s not time and all that shit. People just don’t seem to talk about the almost. They don’t talk about the void of pain, the fear of dying that lingers after your body ceases to listen to you. There’s no beautiful light or love when you’re screaming but no one can hear you. Nothing poetic in pushing through the endless darkness of unconsciousness.

You’ve been here before though. Many times. The almost is like an old friend that rises to greet you when you feel the roof give way beneath your feet. It’s happy to drag you under as the debris settles around your body, still pulsing and glowing with pure burning energy.

Unlike those other times though you don’t beg for death and you don’t pull through to spite the reaper either. This time you fight because there’s something worth living for. Someone, or someones rather, who you aren’t willing to leave behind. Not yet. So you push back against that insidious pull of death, scream and beg your body to obey you to move just a little, just something so they know.

It seems like an age before you feel the pain sear through your right shoulder. For a moment you don’t remember why your shoulder should be hurting or why the hell you’re sleeping on your back. Then it all barrels into you. The pain is less of a nuisance then, you savor it because it means you won, you’re still alive.

The room is silent but you can hear a familiar steady breathing to your left, feel a familiar weight across your torso. Bucky sleeping, his left arm over you, right hand tightly gripping your left. You have to open your eyes, have to see him… You don’t know how long it takes you to force your eyes to open but it feels like hours.

Slowly they creak open, heavy and strangely sore. Even though the light is dim it feels like looking into the sun for a second. Eventually, they adjust and you drag your gaze to the left.

Your heart rises in your parched throat. His eyes look puffy from tears, lips chapped. His beard seems so much longer… how long were you… it didn’t matter.

First, you try to open your mouth, but nothing happens. Your tongue feels heavy, thick, unsure of how to function anymore. It takes a few frustrating minutes but finally you get it under control.

You squeeze his right hand as tight as you can manage. He shifts a bit but doesn’t seem to register until you squeeze once more. Instantly he shoots up, eyes wide.

“Y/N?!”

Your voice is nothing but a rasp, barely even a whisper, but you have to say it… just in case you never get to again. “I love you.”

Those spectacular eyes of his well with tears instantly, his chest heaves, like he hasn’t taken a breath in days. “I love you too, Y/N. So much baby doll. I love you.” That’s all he manages, words stumbling over themselves, before he breaks.

Bucky's lips crash into yours silencing his sob and you tangle the fingers of your left hand in his hair. His forehead rests against yours, his gaze making your heart skip a beat.

“I thought I lost you, baby.”

“You’ll never lose me, Bucky. I’m all yours.”

-

The next few days are a strange, disorienting blur. You feel like you forgot how to be awake.

Despite almost a month of unconsciousness you constantly feel yourself drifting off. Dr. Cabot tells you that your body is still healing. It was a massive trauma and even super soldiers have a breaking point. Still… it’s annoying. You want to be awake, to study the faces of your friends, dry their tears, hold on to every single moment.

Unconscious or awake though Bucky is there. His reassuring warmth a constant by your side. But… you can see what this has done to him. He’s ragged, barely sleeping, his eyes haunted. The relief that floods his face every time you wake up nearly undoes you.

Four days later Dr. Cabot comes in, a smile on her face. “Good news. I’m clearing you to go home.” That one little work sends warmth flooding through you. Home. Home with Bucky. You turn to him, your face hurting from the smile that just burst across it.

“Don’t get too excited though, you’re not done seeing me. I’m still going to be checking in and as soon as Tony has your shoulder replacement ready we’re scheduling your surgery.” As much as you hate the thought of being under, you’re sick of having a useless arm, you nod. “But since you live here I think being back in your own space will be good. For the both of you.” She gives Bucky a stern look.

“Thanks, Doc.” You eek out despite the emotion welling in your chest.

A couple of hours later and you’re in the elevator, thankful you talked your way out of a wheelchair. It felt good to be on your own two feet, even if you were leaning on Bucky for support.

When the doors slide open a welcome banner hung above the door greets you.

“Are they going to jump out and yell surprise when we walk in?”

Bucky looks down at you, clearly just as caught off guard as you were. “No idea.”

Cautiously he opens the door but to both of your relief no one jumps out, in fact, no one is here at all. What is here are sprays of flowers and a ton of food. A lump rises in your throat as you pick up the hand written card left on the bar:

We all thought you two would like some time alone. Enjoy the snacks, pizza will come later. We each picked a movie we think you’ll like, they’re queued on your TV. Jarvis has your ‘Welcome Home’ playlist ready to go for whenever you want to annoy Ice Man.

Glad you’re back with us, Sparks.

-The Team

PS

I picked out the flowers, because we can’t trust these boys to get that right.

-Nat

Bucky wraps you in his arms, pulling your back flat against him, “We’re home, doll. Really home.”

The weight of those words almost make you weep from pure joy. Hydra had tried time and time again to take everything from you both, to prevent you from finding home and happiness. Hell, even your childhood home was nothing but a lie… But here… With these people, with him, together you had all found something special. More than home, you found family.

Turning in his arms you grasp the back of his neck with your good hand. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

His lips are soft against yours, this kiss unhurried. After all, why rush something so sweet. It truly hits you then that you want nothing but this for the rest of your days, no matter how many or how few there may be. Nothing but him.

Pulling back from the kiss you stare into his face. You want to remember every line, every freckle, every single detail of how he looks in this moment.

“What is it?” Concern flashes across his features for an instant.

“Truth or dare?”

“What?” He laughs.

“Come on. Truth or dare?”

“Um, dare.”

“I dare you to marry me, James Buchanan Barnes.”

The laugh that tears through his chest is pure joy. Every ounce of exhaustion slips from his features as he lifts you up and sets you on the counter top. He doesn’t say anything, just takes your face in his rough hands and kisses you until you can hardly breathe.

“Well? Do you accept my challenge?” You grin up at this man you love.

“I do.”

“That’s supposed to come later I think.” You tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

“I will happily accept that dare, Y/N.” Another laugh falls from his lips before he kisses you once more. “My turn,” he says breaking the kiss. “Truth or dare?”

“I feel obligated to chose dare, it got us into this whole mess originally after all.”

He nods in acknowledgment. “I dare you to take my name.” All you can do is smile at him. You already planned on it, your original last name left a bad taste in your mouth after everything. Your silence seems to unsettle him though, “I know it’s old fashioned but-”

“I’d love to.” He looks shocked. “Y/N Barnes. Has a nice ring to it.”

“Yeah,” he covers your face in kisses, “it does.”

Epilogue to come.

[yjsangjun-blog]

                       𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖎𝖓𝖌 — 𝖇𝖆𝖊𝖐 ‘𝖘𝖆𝖒’ 𝖘𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖏𝖚𝖓.

hi hello. i’m cait, i’m 25, i go by she/her pronouns and i live in cst! i am a hot mess who loves causing her characters pain & angst…. i also love ruining their lives on a daily basis.

this is my babe sangjun who’s a lil bit messy ( much like most of my characters ) and you can find basic stats / bullet point bio / basic personality info / basic plot ideas & stuff like that for him under the cut! if you want more in depth info message me bc honestly this intro post is … oof !!! it’s also kinda long so lemme apologize for that as well !!!

but i am super excited to be here and i can’t wait to plot with ya’ll & love your babies !!!! if you’d like to plot, please feel free to IM me on here, ask for my discord or like this post & i’ll come to you !!!

tw: mentions of alcohol / alcoholism, drugs / drug abuse, bullying & violence.

                                         BASIC INFO ( PT 1. )

FACECLAIM: min yoongi + suga + rapper. CHARACTER NAME: baek 'sam' sangjun. PRONOUNS: he/him. GENDER: cismale. AGE/BIRTHDAY: twenty-six. + june eleventh. ZODIAC SIGN: gemini. ROOM: haean + 2e.

                                           OTHER INFO

POSITIVE TRAITS: determined, hard-working, charismatic & adventurous. NEGATIVE TRAITS: hedonistic, short-tempered, impulsive & blunt. OCCUPATION: bouncer at club arena / underground fighter. ( future ceo ) SONG THAT DESCRIBES THEM: i'm not sorry - dean. HOW LONG HAVE THEY LIVED AT THE YUJAEN?: six years. FOUR MUSE AESTHETICS: leather jackets, bruised knuckles, blurry evenings, late night snack runs.

                                      BASIC INFO ( PT 2. )

full name: baek sangjun. nickname(s): sam, san, jun. hometown: seoul, south korea current location: yongsa, south korea. ethnicity: korean. nationality: korean. gender: cismale. pronouns: he/him/his. orientation: pansexual. occupation: bouncer / underground fighter. language(s) spoken: korean, english, japanese, spanish, french, chinese.

                                PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

face claim: min yoongi. ( suga ) of bts. hair color: frequently changes, currently platinum blonde. eye color: brown with a small hazel ring. height: 5'10". weight: 169. build: athletic. tattoos: he’s got a few stick-n-poke tattoos scattered across his body, though most aren’t visible when he’s wearing clothing. piercings: these, double helix in left ear & tongue.

                                             HEALTH.

physical ailments: alcoholism, allergies, drug abuse, lactose intolerance. neurological conditions: back pain / muscle spasms, carpal tunnel. allergies: shellfish, pollen, mold. sleeping habits: all over the place, usually tosses & turns for a while before falling asleep. rarely gets more than 4-5 hours of sleep a night. eating habits: horrible, relies on fast-food & take-out most of the time. loves 'comfort foods’. exercise habits: goes to the gym at least three times a week, less if he’s been in back-to-back fights. body temperature: hotnatured. addictions: alcohol, tobacco, cannabis, gambling, sex. drug use: frequent. alcohol use: frequent.

                                       PERSONALITY. ( PT 1. )

label: the cataclysmic. positive traits: determined, hard-working, charismatic & adventurous. negative traits: hedonistic, short-tempered, impulsive & blunt. fears: heights, flying, confined spaces, drowning, commitment. hobbies: arcade games, astronomy, billiards, board games, boxing, card games, comic books, cooking, motorcycles, poker, reading, video games, weight training, yoga. habits / quirks: believes in demonic possession, believes in ghosts & spirits, believes in karma, carries a 'lucky’ item with him everywhere, fights for animal rights, fights for gender equality, fights for human rights, fights for the legalization of cannabis, fights for marriage equality, meditates, always has change in his pockets, owns an outrageous amount of shoes, counts stairs, experiences episodes of depression, boxes, collects packs of playing cards, doodles on everything, gardens, loves board games, paints, plays with fire, plays poker, plays video games, randomly wanders around when bored, sings well.

                                               FAVORITES.

season: fall. color(s): army green, black, red, gray. music: all genres, doesn’t care for country. movies: action, comedy, horror, suspense. sport(s): hockey, basketball, baseball. beverage(s): whiskey, soda. food: comfort foods. animal: dogs.

                                                    FAMILY.

father: baek jaejin, sixty, ceo. mother: baek chansook, fifty-four, ceo. sibling(s): younger sibling, nineteen. children: n/a. pet(s): a siamese cat named ramen ( back at home with his parents ), a bengal cat named shiva ( back at home with his parents ) & a seven month old austrailan sheppard puppy named indy ( lives with his sibling. ) family’s financial status: upper class.

                                                   EXTRAS.

mbti: entp-a. ( the debater ) enneagram: type 8. ( the challenger ) temperament: choleric. hogwarts house: slytherin. moral alignment: chaotic neutral. primary vice: wrath. primary virtue: diligence. element: fire.

                                                BIOGRAPHY.

born in seoul, south korea.

parents were very well known ceos, both running very successful corporations.

and of course, they wanted sangjun to follow in their footsteps.

parents were pretty strict and didn’t really allow him to do well.. anything.

however, they did buy him whatever he wanted and spoiled him in that way.

and due to both of those things combined, he started to rebel at a really young age. ( i’m talking like 10 )

so he’d sneak out, graffiti people’s houses and break things and the likes.

never got caught for it, though, knowing that if he did his parents would have kicked him out and probably disowned him for his behavior.

but one of the reasons he never got caught being a rebel was the fact he was bringing straight a’s in school, was always the very top of his class and from his parent’s perspective? he was a model child.

however, he hated that, hated having to live under his parent’s shadows and be this cookie-cutter version of himself they wanted him so desperately to be.

but he played it off, juggling the 'angel’ side of him with the rebellious tendencies that continued to grow worse and worse with each passing year.

god, high school was so different, though. he’d rebel more and more every single day, pushing the limits of getting caught.

however, word got out pretty quickly about just how wealthy his family was and kids started to bully sangjun for it, causing his anger to get the better of him until he lashed out so bad it landed one of those bullies in the hospital for copious amounts of injuries.

of course, his parents were pissed. grounded him for a solid month and in that time, he learned each and every way he could sneak out of his house at night, wandering the streets of seoul at all hours.

one of those nights he happened to run into a group of people who also went to his school, but instead of them bullying him for whatever reason, they commended him on standing up for himself like he had & told him there was a way to let out the pent up aggression that ended up sending a kid to the hospital.

his curiosity was lit up that night, eager to figure out what the hell they were talking about and a few days later, he was introduced to a scene that’d become far more intoxicating that anything he’d ever experienced before.

underground fighting. no rules, no shadows he had to live under, tons of money for each win under his belt? it was the life he never knew he wanted, but the second he got a taste of it, he wanted more.

so those late night strolls turned into him sneaking out of the house only to meet up with his new group of friends, all of which were clad in full black outfits .. traveling to some random person’s basement ( or abandoned buildings of numerous kinds ) only for sangjun to be able to release every single bit of pent up aggression he carried out on some stranger who’d never remember his name.

his parents? they were just as clueless as before, though, sam continuing to excel in school as well as his fights so much so that he found the perfect balance.. learned how to hide the scrapes and bruises from his mother & father all while continuing to be the top of his class.

not to mention he was juggling all of that and his acting career all at once, trying to hide certain things from his parents and the rest of the world because he knew it’d ruin his reputation.

however, due to the amount of stress that sat upon sam’s shoulders on a daily basis, he let himself slip up on his 21st birthday, parents stumbling into his apartment only to catch him drunk & high with a bunch of strangers surrounding him.

it was a moment he’d been scared of his whole life, worried his parents would just disown him right then and there...

but in all honesty? it was the most freeing night of sam’s life.

he didn’t have to pretend to be someone he wasn’t anymore, didn’t have to pretend to be a pure and innocent little thing who never did anything wrong. didn’t have to live up to the high expectations he’d set for himself so many years ago and god, he was hooked.

his parents not disowning him and continuing to pay for everything he wanted only fueling him to continue the downward spiral, living his life to the fullest, doing whatever the hell he wanted to... whenever the hell he wanted to.

                                      PERSONALITY. ( PT 2. )

hides behind a wall of sarcasm, cockiness, anger and lust.

doesn’t really care to get to know people and had a tendency to push people away before they get too close to him. ( though it’s all a ruse. )

wears glasses to read and mess w computers, but hates them a lot and probably won’t wear them if people are around.

has two different wardrobes, one for when he’s around his parents. that consists of suits & dressy attire. and then one for when he isn’t that consists of ripped jeans, t-shirts, sweats & everything in between.

is …. stubborn as hell and refuses to ask for help with anything.

his motorcycle is literally his baby ??? like he ?? has a problem ??

fluent in a lot of languages, picked them up so that he didn’t need translators at his parents meetings and the likes.

lowkey worried that people will figure out that he’s actually v scared & stressed on the inside because that’ll cause him to start having to deal with his feelings, and he doesn’t wanna do that.

is the biggest flirt you will ever meet?? like if he’s speaking to you… its usually flirty as hell unless it has to do w business ( both his parents & his fights ) or he’s just known you for centuries ?

will try to get everyone to go to bars n parties with him because that’s his life in a nutshell ??

drinks..heavily..  like every night?? it’s a problem tbh.

nerd on the inside though like owns so many comic books, loves to play video games, read books, plays piano.. loves to sketch, paint & the likes.

he cares… god he cares so much about people and the world but he pretends to hate everything because it’s easier than letting people in.

full of horrible and cheesy pick up lines and jokes and frequently texts people said pick up lines and jokes.

owns a book that is full of nothing but blank pages and keeps it on his coffee table because he ‘relates’ to it.

is a highkey hoe but he tries to keep it on the dl ( he fails… miserably. )

super into fitness as it’s a way to keep him away from drinking every evening. ( that doesn’t work for him tho, oof.. )

also has bruised knuckles 24/7 & some other injuries he gets from his fights, plays it off like he’s just clumsy.

anger issues af. needs to get them in check.

actually super kind and caring once you’re able to see get past his wall?? which is really hard tbh but if you’re able to? he’s so loyal and caring it’s unreal.

has a bad habit of smoking whenever he’s stressed out, which is usually all of the time so he smokes…. more than he should ( though he won’t admit to being stressed out,,,,, ever in his life. )

highkey into cuddling and all the cute shit like that but would literally never tell a soul because then they’d see that he isn’t the ‘hardass’ he pretends to be on a daily basis.

is a burnt cupcake who has 'decent’ intentions but has extremely horrible execution skills.

                                                 PLOT IDEAS.

bad influence. ( on your muse. )

best friends.

childhood friend.

competition.

confidant.

cousin.

current hook up(s).

drinking buddies.

drunken hook up.

enemies that used to be friends.

enemies.

exes who ended on bad terms.

flirtationship.

frenemies.

friendly competition.

friends that used to be enemies.

friends with benefits.

good influence. ( on sangjun. )

hate sex.

one night stand(s). ( past & present. )

partner in crime.

party buddies.

past hook up(s).

ride or die.

social media friends.

trouble makers.

unlikely friends.

[stardestined]

CHARACTER SHEET.

BASICS.

full name. sam alexander. pronunciation. sam... alexander. nickname. sammy, rocket, helmet-head, star boy. height. 5′3″ age. sixteen. zodiac. leo. spoken languages. english, passes by with his spanish. ( it needs work. ) helmet’s built-in universal translator covers what he doesn’t know, including alien languages!

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair colour. brown-black. eye colour. blue. skin tone. tanned. body type. lean. building muscle slowly. he’s babey ok accent. standard american. dominant hand. right. posture. confident. upright, chest puffed out scars. entry-and-exit wound scars from a bullet near his heart, long but faint scar along his left forearm from bone breaking through skin, small scarring on scalp underneath hair from concussion impacts, white scars/scrapes on knees and palms from many skateboarding accidents over the years. tattoos. none currently. wants a sleeve in the future! most noticeable feature. an open and innocent face. sam is really bad at lying, his expressions always betray him.

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth. carefree, arizona. hometown. carefree, arizona. birth weight / height. normal baby stats? manner of birth. uhhh spacecop-dad flying in through the window to see him. very big burst of light, very much not lowkey first words. papa, mama, space. siblings. kaelynn alexander parents. jesse alexander ( father, missing ), eva alexander ( mother, alive ) parental involvement. sam was close to his dad when he was young ( jesse taught sam all about the stars, and he introduced sam to baseball--- a sport he would play for a long time ), but as he grew up, they grew apart. he didn’t respect his dad and didn’t believe his stories anymore, and fought his mom a lot over him being a loser, and that she could do better than him. ( all things he would fiercely regret in the future. ) his mom was always a big influence on him though, and he loves and respects her more than anyone. he doesn’t know what he would do if he had to keep being nova a secret from her. 

ADULT TEEN LIFE.

occupation. nova, bunker pilot for the champions, high school student current residence. mobile. between carefree and his shared room with miles in the champions bunker ship close friends. kamala khan, miles morales, viv vision.  relationship status. single ! financial status. lower-class. driver’s license. no license. he has a skateboard, why would he need a car criminal record. no criminal record. there are definitely alien bounties on his head, though. vices. sam tends to hide things from people, albeit poorly. he also tends to verbally lash out when he’s feeling stressed or overwhelmed or wronged, even to close friends.

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation. big ol bi ! romantic orientation. biromantic. preferred emotional role. submissive  |  dominant  | switch  |  unsure preferred sexual role. submissive  |  dominant  |  switch  |  sex repulsed libido. n/a, sam is babey turn on’s. --- turn off’s. --- love language. --- relationship tendencies. sam is a lovesick puppy who’ll fall for anyone who treats him nicely, if i’ll be honest. he stumbles blindly through relationships with rose-tinted glasses, and doesn’t often think about the bigger picture. his relationships with carrie and lina lasted a few months before his responsibilities as nova took over and they faltered, but they remain friends. he’s almost always crushing on somebody, though.

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song. what am i becoming? - pop etc. / we don’t eat - james vincent mcmorrow hobbies to pass the time. skateboarding, playing basketball with miles, hanging out with the other champions on the bunker, playing games on his old and nearly-broken DS. sam also used to play baseball when his family could afford it. mental illnesses. minor ptsd, big anxiety physical illness. repeated concussions rearing memory damage. could not remember his own name at one point, and has forgotten some missions entirely. left or right brained. right. fears. losing his family, losing his friends, not living up to the legacy of all the novas before him (cough rich rider), making mistakes that impact others, making a fool out of himself, etc. he has a lot of fears. sam nearly defines himself by them. self confidence level. varies. outwardly, appears high. vulnerabilities. intense love and need to protect friends and family. easily emotionally manipulated. sometimes pretty gullible. 

tagged by: i stole it bc nobody  care me tagging: ANYBODY WHO HASNT DONE IT BC ITS RLY FUN and also @saevio, @outlawiism, @deathrisen, @heartslight, @islelight ♡

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Truth Pt. 8

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Request:

What’s up sug! sorry you’re struggling right now but I’ve come to help you If you could bring this to light for me I’d absolutely love for YOU TO DO JT So basically Bucky X Enhanced reader who are fuckin enemies. Hate each other to every last fiber of their beings bc Bucky is rude and she calls him out on it. AnywHs, they get drunk, truth or dare (go crZy baby) and LOTS LF dirty talk if u wanna do smut but if u don’t then buck taking care of her while she’s drunk cause she admitted her feelings

Pairing: Bucky X Reader (Enhanced)

Summary: Since The Avengers gave you a home the only blight has been Bucky Barnes, a ghost from your past that you can’t seem to shake. It makes you hate him. The feeling, it seems, is mutual. But… a simple game reveals that maybe things aren’t quite so simple. (Post Winter Soldier AU)

Warnings: References to past violence

A/N: I don’t know what to say about this one. It’s stressful, and soft, and... yeah. 

Hope y’all like this one!

Tags are open!

“Sargent Barnes, Mr. Stark, and the others are on their way here,” Jarvis says softly.

Bucky grimaces and looks down at you curled into a tight ball next to him breathing softly. It took about 30 seconds for you to drift off after you laid your head on his chest. You need this rest, desperately, so the thought of waking you pains him but it has to happen.

“Doll,” he gives your right hand a squeeze and kisses your head, “you have to wake up.” You groan a little and shift, “Come on, we’ll get this over with and you can sleep all you want.” He’d make damn sure of that.

Sitting up you rub your eyes, “How long was I out?”

“Just about fifteen minutes.” He reaches for your mug, “Here.”

“Thanks,” you take a huge gulp and go to get up for more.

“I got it,” Bucky plucks the mug from your grip.

“I can-” you begin to protest.

“Hush,” he says, “you’re a guest let me fill your mug.” As he’s pouring Jarvis announces the arrival of the team.

He meets your gaze from across the apartment. You look worried for an instant, unsure. He’s pretty sure he feels the same. But still, you nod strongly, ready to face whatever came.

“Let them in, Jarvis.”

Everyone flows in as he hands you the mug and takes his spot next to you once more. He knows it’s bad hosting etiquette, his ma would have a fit at him for not rising to greet guests or making them their drinks. It doesn’t matter. They aren’t his priority right now and he knows, it’s a power move.

Steve’s the first one in, “Coffee?” He asks.

“Yup, carafe full in the kitchen, help yourselves.”

Natasha is after Steve and she casts a worried look at Y/N who is refusing to lift her eyes from the coffee table, hands white-knuckled around her mug. Bucky gives her knee a reassuring squeeze and she looks at him with a halfhearted smile. Even that sends his heart fluttering a bit.

No one says anything as they fill their mugs and find a seat. Natasha takes the spot next to you on the couch. You turn to her. Bucky catches the warm smile she offers you and hears the whispered, “I got your back.” The loose bun on top of your head bobs as you nod in acknowledgment of her statement and your eyes focus back on the table.

He notices your right hand gripping your knee, small sparks just visible under the surface of your skin. Uncaring he takes your hand in his metal one. To his surprise you take it, holding tight enough to break a regular human's delicate bones there. For him though, it feels reassuring.

Tony sits across from you in one of the dining chairs and Steve is in the large chair to Bucky’s right, where he always is when he’s over. Everyone else but Thor is here, having had to leave a few days prior for some god business or other.

Bucky hears Tony take a breath as if about to speak but he’s interrupted by Sam.

“Hold up,” he lifts a hand in the air and gestures to the two of you on the couch, “I obviously missed something. Didn’t you threaten to kill him the other day?” Anger flashes through Bucky and he glares at Sam. You however just let out a little laugh.

“Sharp aren’t ya?” You quip and Sam’s face softens in a look that’s almost relief. He is your friend, after all, Bucky reminds himself.

“You owe me,” Clint whispers loudly at Natasha and she rolls her eyes. Another giggle comes from you and Bucky feels like he’s the one missing something now.

Sighing Tony dives in, “Sam does have a point there. You did threaten to kill a team member, Y/N, that’s a pretty serious issue.”

“I deserved it,” Bucky says staring Tony down.

“Oh?”

Your hand squeezes his and he continues, “I made a bad call. Would have gotten myself killed and probably everyone in range too. Y/N, made a better call. I behaved like an ass after. So any repercussions should be on me, not her.”

Steve snorts, “This isn’t the army, pal.” Bucky looks at his best friend, leaning forward in the chair smiling a half smile at the two of you. “No one’s going to get court marshaled. And this sure as shit isn’t Hydra, no one is going to be punished. We just need to know what happened.”

“And what exactly you were all up against down there,” Tony takes a sip of the coffee and gives an approving nod toward the cup before continuing. “Nat and Steve said… well that whatever came at you was-”

“Like me,” you finish the statement, voice hollow.

Tony nods, “Not that we even know exactly what like you means, Y/N. Plus there were the two other…”

“Assets,” Bucky whispers, the word leaving a bitter taste on his tongue.

“Yeah. Three seemingly high investments left alone? What’s that about?” Everyone is staring at the two of you waiting for an answer.

Bucky takes a deep breath. “That was an Asset Facility. It’s where… where they work on special projects as they call them. Where they make-”

“Weapons,” your voice again is devoid of any emotion. He looks at you a second before continuing.

“They likely got wind of our surveillance somehow and abandoned ship. Knew the project wouldn’t survive anyway and the other two assets were expendable puppets, not a high investment like…” He almost said like us but the words won’t come out. They all seem to understand anyway.

“We found the woman, the… project,” Tony grimaces a bit at the dehumanizing term, “and another corpse that was…”

“Incinerated…” you say. Bucky looks at you, he wasn’t aware of this.

“So you saw that one too?” Tony leans back in his chair. You nod. “Did one attack the other or?” You shake your head, eyes focused on the coffee in your left hand, grip tightening on his hand.

“No…” your hand trembles and he’s about to demand they all leave when you keep going, “they… it… I guess the best way to put it is spontaneous combustion. They burned themselves out. Alone. In that cell.” It’s the last bit that sucks the air out of the room, each person imagining what that kind of death would have been like.

Bruce clears his throat, fingers toying with a loose thread on his cardigan, “We, uh, did an autopsy on the woman.” You don’t look at him, just nod. “Her internal organs were… almost…” He clears his throat again trying to find the words to make the horrific more palatable and coming up empty, “Cooked, basically. She was burned from the inside out. There was no way she would have survived much longer in that state.”

Something like a hollow laugh comes from you, “Yeah. Call it a mercy killing if you want.”

“What we want is to know how someone in that condition could pose such a threat.” Tony’s tone is matter of fact, not aggressive, but it rankles Bucky’s nerves either way.

“You saw what she did to Steve,” it still made Bucky shiver, thinking of Steve being hurt.

“True,” Tony nods, “but you can’t tell me that you two couldn’t have handled that faster or-”

“She was going to blow,” your voice is surprisingly steady.

Bucky’s eyes shoot to you, “Don’t.” Your gaze slowly meets his. The two of you should have spoken about this earlier, should have worked out a plan.

“They need to know,” the look in your eyes feels like a knife in his belly. You’re terrified. He feels your hand release a bit but he refuses to let go. Taking a deep shaky breath you go for it.

“Like me, is a complicated thing to quantify… I don’t even really know how I do what I do or exactly how they made this happen. But at some level I’m…” You shudder and squeeze his hand, “I’m basically a human-shaped atomic bomb.”

Silence hangs as you gather your thoughts. “This… ability can be overloaded, pushed to a point that the energy will release all at once with enough force… well, I don’t actually know how much. I’m still here so that obviously hasn’t been tested. And she…” You're shaking all over now.

Bucky takes over, “There’s a tell. Bright pulsing, all over the body, one solid light. The project did that. We both knew what that meant in context to Y/N.” He glances at you and notices a tendril of light snaking up the side of your neck, “I made the call to hold the project off until Y/N could get the others to safety. The more I could distract her the less time it would take to blow. A gunshot or too much physical contact could cause it to go off too. It was a… delicate situation.”

“So how did you…?” Natasha says softly.

“She lashed out at Bucky, I took the blow like I had earlier, redirected her own energy back at her straight through her heart. I hope-”

“Wait…” Tony’s brows are knit. “You’re telling me you have the capacity to… overload?! And you don’t actually know what the consequences of that could be? So anytime you could just snap and kill everyone in range, Y/N?!

“That’s enough, Tony,” Bucky knows murder is dripping from each syllable.

“No. It’s not,” he slams his mug down. “That’s putting not only this team but innocent civilians at risk every time, all the time, you’re-”

“I’m not like her,” your voice is barely above a whisper, tremors visibly shaking your body. “I’m. Not.” You look up and meet Tony’s furious stare, “I have control. For whatever reason, I was able to contain this. I wouldn’t… I’d never… hurt any of you…” Your eyes dart around the room, frantically, begging someone to believe you. Bucky does, though he knows that control is… a relative term.

“I know,” Natasha lays a reassuring hand on your left thigh. “We know,” she flashes a murderous look at Tony.

“Wanting and doing aren’t always the same thing,” Tony says sighing. “Sorry, I’m not attacking you I’m just… thrown.” Your lips are pursed trying to keep your composure. Bucky catches Natasha’s worried look over your hunched shoulders.

“I can handle her,” Bucky’s voice is gruff. He hates saying this.

“What does that mean,” Sam’s gaze is cold.

“It means I can keep her from doing anything she can’t live with.” Sam just shakes his head and looks away, anger clear. Good, Bucky liked that Sam hated the thought of that almost as much as he did.

“But you couldn’t handle the one in the facility?” Tony again, isn’t trying to be an ass but that’s how it seems to Bucky.

“Not in the same way…” Fuck, he doesn’t know if you know exactly how he can handle you but… well, now you would. “It’s… there’s trigger words.” Your head shoots to him. Great, so you didn’t know. “Somehow they redirect the energy inside and cause…” He swallows hard, unable to say it, looking down at your hand still somehow confidently gripping his.

“Like the one in the cell?” Clint asks, voice soft. Bucky nods.

Tony lets out a long sigh and looks to Steve, begging him to take control of the situation.

Finally, Steve speaks. “How many more of you are there, Y/N?”

You stare at him for a long minute, “I didn’t know there were any." Bucky feels you begin to shake again. “As far as I knew I was the only one. They stopped when it worked with me. Even then…”

He remembered them complaining. Wipes lasted shorter times on you, the chair wasn’t as effective likely due to your own energy, making you difficult to control. Because of that, you were only brought out to the field for very select ops and often with not only a handler but the Soldier in tow.

“Why would they make more of you now?” Steve’s tone is measured, he can tell you’re shaken and he’s trying to be gentle. Bucky appreciates him silently. He’s worried you’re about to break but you take a deep breath, steadying yourself, this question seems to somehow bring you back to center.

“Why not? If they have the means a human-shaped bomb… that’s a statement maker. After everything it’s possible what’s left of Hydra is in the mood to make just such a statement.”

[Reader]

Nail meet head.

Everyone falls into a heavy silence. They’re either looking anywhere but you or right at you. The weight of your statement weighing on each individual.

You’d been thinking this over since the mission. It’s been one of the few things you could focus on with any accuracy. Setting your coffee down you hold your left hand up you watch the tiny points of light glow under your skin.

“I don’t really know how they did it…” Solid threads of light glow up your fingers, “All I know is it took years.” Natasha shifts next to you, the thought of that making her uncomfortable, Bucky gives your right-hand a reassuring squeeze. You hadn’t spoken of this… ever. “Years, trial and error… and a whole hell of a lot of pain. Unless they were working on them before, and I doubt it, they’re rushing this.”

“So their chances of success are slim,” Tony says, relief in his tone almost hopeful.

You cast him a dark gaze, “Their chances of repeating me are slim. Even more so without some form of the serum but…”

“They don’t need to repeat you to make a statement,” Natasha says next to you. You nod in agreement.

“All they have to do is place some half baked human bombs in key locations and people will start looking at high profile enhanced individuals with distrust.” You look around the room, “More distrust than they already do that is…” It was Hydra’s way. Indirect control.

Tony lets out a loud breath and gets up. He paces around the room a few times while your words sink into everyone.

“Ok,” Bruce huffs out. All eyes shift to him. “They’re trying to replicate you as best they can, given their limited resources. That means you’re the best lead we’ve got.” He pauses looking over at Tony, “We’ve been wanting to… examine your abilities for a while-”

“She’s not a science experiment,” Steve snaps. Bucky looks over at him, a pleased smile on his face.

“Of course not,” Bruce hold up his hands. “We never said anything because we wanted to give Y/N time to settle in here.” Tony slumps back in his chair.

“Look,” Tony leans forward, elbows on his knees, “we would never do something without your consent but… Y/N, you gotta throw us a bone here. We don’t even know what we’re dealing with when it comes to you and now this-”

“This is-” Bucky’s tone and the tremor in his hand says he’s about to go off, you cut him off.

“I’m down.”

“Y/N…” Bucky turns to you, face a mask of concern.

“It’s ok,” you give him a small smile. “You’re right, Bruce, I’m the best lead. What do you need from me.”

The shock on Bruce’s face is evident, “Oh… uh… no-nothing invasive. If we can get some solid energy scans from you, blood samples while your power is active, stuff like that we can start putting together an algorithm that can scan for that specific energy signature and variants close to it. See if they’re trying this elsewhere.”

“I can also try to come up with a suit or something similar that can keep you from… overloading so Manchurian over here,” you glance at Bucky, he hates this nickname from Tony, “won’t ever have to use whatever Jedi mind trick he has to make you blow yourself up.”

Relief floods your system. You hoped for an outcome like this but you didn’t let yourself believe it could really happen. A shaky half laugh trips over your lips, “That’s it?” Tears prick at your eyes as you scan the room.

“For now. Give me 24 hours I’m sure I can cook up some other fun ideas if you’re going to let us play with this,” Tony sweeps his hands up and down in your direction, “whatever the hell it is in your system.”

A soft smile lights his face, “You’re one of us, Y/N, we just needed to know you were ok. That you weren’t about to light Ice Boy on fire at a moment’s notice.” The smile turns impish, “And since it looks like you’re lighting him up in a whole different way-”

“Excuse you-” You jab an elbow hard into Bucky’s ribs. The tension breaks as everyone laughs at his surprised wheeze. Even Bucky is smiling as he looks down at you.

Steve stands, “I think that’s all we need to worry about for now.” He looks down at you two, a tender look on his face, “We’ll get out of your hair.” Everyone stands, including you and Bucky.

You sway a bit on your feet as Natasha pulls you into an embrace, “Get some rest please,” she whispers in your ear. You give her a solid nod in acknowledgment.

“Sparks,” Tony calls to you as Steve and Bucky embrace. You make your way to him, feeling more and more unsteady. He rests his hands on your shoulders, supporting you, “Anything you need you let me know, anything.” His gaze is intense.

“I will, Tony.” His eyebrows raise in doubt, “I promise. This was… I just…”

“I get it,” he smiles. “I’ll make you a recovery playlist,” he pats your shoulder and heads for the door. Turning he points to you, “Be sure to play it loud enough to annoy the grump.” You look to your right as Bucky approaches you, his eyes rolling.

You laugh, “You got it, boss.” Tony winks and heads out as Bucky slips a supportive arm around your waist. You’re grateful and lean into his steady frame.

“You have so much explaining to do, traitor” Sam quips, a kind smile on his face.

“You’re still my number one jetpack, Wilson, don’t be butthurt.”

He cups your cheek then glares at Bucky, “Take care of her.”

“I will,” you’re surprised at the smile playing on his lips.

“If you don’t, Winter Soldier or not I’ll beat your ass.”

“Sam, grown nuclear risk woman here,” you pat his hand still resting on your face, “I’ll be good.”

He smiles, “Oh I’ll whoop your ass too if you don’t take care of yourself. Just making sure he knows what’s what.” Tenderly, he pats your face and steps back. “Call your therapist,” he winks, Sam was always on you about it. He claps Steve on the shoulder before he’s gone too.

Steve is the last one there. Pulling away from Bucky you give the Captain a heartfelt hug. “Look out for him,” he whispers in your ear. Everyone could see how wrecked you were. Bucky wasn’t much better, it was just less visible. But Steve could see it plain as day. Your heart swells a bit in your chest to know someone is paying attention to Bucky’s needs too.

You hold his gaze and nod. A smile fills Steve’s face telling you he can sense just how much was held in that gesture.

“You both get some rest,” he says after he and Bucky exchange a hug.

“Aye, aye, Cap,” you give him a half-hearted salute.

“You’re worse than Tony,” he calls over his shoulder.

You laugh, “That cuts deep Steve.”

He turns back, “So sure. Call if either of you needs anything.”

Immediately you bury your face in Bucky’s chest, breathing in his reassuring smell. His arms curl around you, holding you tight pressing a kiss on top of your head.

“I told you it would be fine,” you say pressing your cheek against his sternum.

“That you did,” he sighs, “could have easily not been though.”

“Can’t live on could have beens Buck,” his stomach growls. “Wait,” you pull back and give him a once over, “you didn’t eat anything earlier.” He shrugs. Guilt washes over you for not realizing before. You grab his hand and start to drag him to the kitchen.

“I’m good, Y/N,” he laughs a little, “really. You don’t have to-”

“Shut up,” you push him on to one of the stools. “What kind of food do you have here?” Opening his fridge you groan. Eggs, protein shakes, a couple more of those Pedialyte drinks, and a few pre-made meals from one of those ‘healthy’ restaurants on the lower floors of the tower.

Groaning you look around the door to him, “You are such a dude.”

He laughs, “Not up to your standards?”

“Not by a long shot,” you flash him a smirk. “Ok, eggs, one of those terrible meal things, or order out?”

“Those meals aren’t bad,” he protests.

“They taste like fucking cardboard.”

“Eggs, because I don’t want to face your judgement,” he says smiling standing up, “but I can make-”

“Get back on that stool before I tie you to a chair.”

He sits and smirks at you, “Maybe later, doll,” he winks.

Once he’s eaten and you’ve downed a protein bar and bottle of Pedialyte you’re both just about ready to topple over.

“Thanks,” he smiles back at you as he loads the dishwasher.

“Just returning the favor.”

He rounds the island and tilts your face up to his, thumbs grazing your cheekbones. “I don’t know about you but I need sleep.” You nod.

Wordlessly the two of you undress and crawl into bed. The feeling of his skin on yours, his soft breath on the back of your neck, the steady thrumming of his heart, they make everything else fall away.

“Sleep well, doll,” he whispers against your ear.

And you do.

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