strike twice : b.b
bucky sure knows how to put his foot in it sometimes. but when a storm causes a powercut throughout new york, he's quick to make amends. (1k word count)
warnings - just a fluffy piece :)
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"Fine!" You scream in response, exasperated from the argument that arose between you two other such a trivial matter.
Scoffing, Bucky picks up his bag and heads for the door to your room. "Night, Y/n." Bucky manages to say through gritted teeth, not daring to spare you a glance in response before slamming the door shut, almost breaking it from the hinges.
"Asshole." The word leaves your lips in a whisper as you collapse onto your bed with a heavy sigh.
The rain lining the windows mirrors the tears falling down your cheeks, all of which slowly link together before disappearing through the cracks and quickly replenishing.
Reaching over, you grab a hold of your phone, only to see it's dead. "Fuck!" You groan, throwing your phone at your wall before bringing your legs to your chest, allowing your cries to increase in the comfort of your own room with the rain battering down on the windows.
On the lower levels of the compound, Bucky sits with a scotch in his grasp, nursing it tenderly whilst Steve sits beside him, slightly dumbfounded.
"So what were you guys even arguing about?" Steve asks, brows remaining furrowed following Bucky's slightly rushed explanation.
"Doesn't even matter now." Bucky huffs, taking another swig of his drink. "But she's not happy, and neither am I frankly."
Humming in response, Steve glances behind him noticing rain starting to hammer against the windows. "And you had nothing to do with that?" He dares ask, hearing his friend's glass slam down on the counter.
"No." Bucky is too quick to respond, knowing for a fact it is his fault this time. "Possibly." It passes his lips softly in defeat. "I might've messed up, pal."
"You don't say." Steve chuckles, now fixated on the rain lashing down, and the rumbles of thunder following suit. "Storms on its way." He motions, oblivious to Bucky tensing at the statement.
"A stor-" Before Bucky can finish his question, the lights above start to flicker, TV monitors start to glitch and FRIDAY blares gibberish. Quick to stand up, Bucky heads for the door just as the entire compound is submerged in darkness. "Oh no." His lips turn to a frown upon hearing a well-known cry from across the compound.
Your eyes frantically search the room for your phone, only to find it and remember it's out of battery. "No, no." Mumbles pass from your lips in a panic whilst the rolls of thunder boom closer to your window, causing you to jolt with every sound.
Reaching for your blanket, you quickly grab a hold of it before stumbling into the bathroom and quietly close the door behind you.
Eagerly running through the compound, Bucky hears numerous conversations happening at once, but none of them concern him as he runs several flights of stairs to reach your floor. Once there, he slowly lets himself into your room, trying to see your silhouette through the lightning strikes.
"Doll?" Bucky calls out, now fully in your room but you are nowhere in sight.
With a sigh, Bucky turns to exit your room, wondering if perhaps you went to find solace in Natasha or someone else. "Bucky?" He pauses, hearing you whimper from the bathroom.
Wasting no time, Bucky opens the door to vaguely see you in the bathtub with a blanket wrapped around your body. "Hey, it's okay, I'm here." Apprehensively approaching you, Bucky can see you shaking frantically and tears lining your cheeks. "Let me get in the tub, yeah, baby?" Bucky ensures his tone is soft, tensing at the drums of thunder and your immediate panic.
"I, I heard the thunder, then I saw," Struggling to form words through your shaking lips, Bucky hushes you into his embrace. "and then the power went." Sniffing, you wipe your nose with your sleeve. "I'm such a wimp." A watery laugh sounds from you, and you can feel Bucky chuckling behind you.
"You're far from one, Y/n. Everyone has irrational fears." Stroking your arm with his right hand, you focus on that feeling, his fingertips circling. "When I was a kid, I was terrified of snails." Bucky smiles at your laughter bouncing the walls.
Glancing up with a grin etched on your lips, Bucky only shakes his head at you. "Of all the things, snails?"
"What can I tell you, doll." He shrugs. "Steve used to help 'em out. He'd see them in a weird spot, pick it up, and," Bucky shudders at the thought, only furthering your amusement. "yeah, so I don't exactly love snails, even now."
Now leaning back against his chest, your breathing has finally evened out. The storm outside is dull whilst Bucky continues to tell you stories, anything to distract you, make you laugh, smile and reminisce.
"And then I stopped in my tracks, nearly went face first into a-" Bucky cuts himself off at the flickering lights above you both. Within seconds you're both submerged in warm-toned lighting. "Would you look at that." He nudges you, now able to see your blanket clad self. "You look so snug, doll."
Sighing heavily, you shuffle to stand up with your blanket around your shoulders. Bucky rests his hand on the edge of the bath to help, following you out afterward into your bedroom.
"Thank you," You reach for your phone, finally placing it on charge. "for all of that."
"Y/n," Bucky starts, reaching for your hand and squeezing it lightly. "I'm sorry for earlier, but I'll always be there for you, through storms and all." He tugs your hand and brings you into his arms.
"I appreciate that, Buck." You mumble into his chest. "And same here, if a snail dares appear I'll show that sucker who's in charge." A laugh sounds from Bucky as he tugs you onto your bed.
"Wow, my hero." He rolls his eyes, now lifting the blanket up to join you for the remainder of the night.
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I've seen a lot of theories about what Bucky did to make money in Romania and I put forth:
Math tutor Bucky.
Like. Think about it. Not only did it mention he excelled in the classroom on his Smithsonian description at the end of TWS, but Bucky was a sniper, meaning he had to know a LOT of math, and I doubt that'd be something HYDRA would want to brainwash out of him seeing as he'd need that during his Winter Soldier years. He speaks Romanian so he can talk to the kids, and even though how math is taught may have changed since the 40s he can still teach them a way that gets them to the correct answer. Maybe some might find his way of doing it easier even idk.
I don't know how it would start or why parents would suddenly start trusting their kids to be around this sad hobo looking man that they're 99% sure is squatting in an apartment (in my headcanon he is), but eventually they end up trusting him and he kinda likes it. He doesn't make much money off it, but the parents pay in cash so it isn't traceable (good for someone on the run), and it pays enough that he's able to buy food, do laundry, and maybe some new clothes if he saves up. Or at least, some things from the local thrift store.
I also like to think at least one parent takes pity on the sad man that tutors their Cristian and helped bring his Calculus grade up to a C+ when he was in danger of failing before and they force ask him to stay for dinner whenever he's over for sessions and make sure to send him home with as many leftovers as he can carry
Edited to add: @stuckyfingers added this to the reblog and I loved it so much I had to mention it to the original post!!
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