#BUCKY GETS TO HEAL (with advice from Sam because I mean come on he’s the best) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

It’s All in the Perspective

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4491

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Gun Violence, Minor Character Injury, A Peek at Angry Bucky, Explosions (if that’s a warning), Mentions of Stevie (I really miss him, guys)

A/N: So! Here it is! Part 4.3! After long hours of laboring and slaving away - kidding, kidding. I had a bit of trouble with this part, not gonna lie, because there’s a lot of feelings I wanted to try explaining. To do that, there’s a little sort of twist at the end that, once I decided to put in, made the chapter much smoother to write. I wasn’t happy with it at first, but now I’m satisfied.

There’s a lot of things happening in this one; it’s longer than I had anticipated because of the little snippet at the end I added. It’s got a few scene-for-scene things, but I kinda blew past it just to get to the characters’ emotions and stuff. Plus writing action like the shipping yard scene is hard when you’re not focusing entirely on that scene, which I wasn’t.

You’ll notice that the last little bit with Ayo (the Wakandan) isn’t in this. That’s because I couldn’t really find a way to fit it in and I’m assuming it will fit in better with next week’s episode.

Not beta’d, so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you wonderful people for reading and commenting! I enjoy hearing your opinions and what you like about the show and the series! Enjoy the final Part for Episode 3 and stay tuned for an announcement tomorrow about the One Shots I’ll be doing in relation to this series!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

You and Bucky kept sneaking glances at each other as you walked through the dock, weaving between the different colored shipping containers with Sharon leading the way. Every time you caught his eye, his ears turned red and he looked away, scanning your surroundings. Not that you were any better, immediately turning away when he turned your way.

You almost kissed him. Fuck. You couldn’t let that happen. He was your friend. Your teammate. He was the best friend to the man you fell in love with, who just so happened to be your best friend. Your best friend who left you. Your best friend who you promised you would watch out for Bucky.

Bucky…who you also fell in love with. Whether or not it was because of Steve, the fact of the matter was: you loved him. You loved both of them. And you’d never loved anyone like that before. And one left. And the other was trying to navigate through his shitty life. And you weren’t any better. Which is why, you decided in that moment, that no matter how much you wanted to - and holy shit did you want to - you wouldn’t pursue.

Yet. Maybe. Ugh! When did feelings become so complicated?!

When you started having them.

You silently grumbled to yourself, shaking your head clear. You had to focus and be in the moment. Now was not the time to sort out what to do about the suddenly rising emotions towards the cerulean eyed brunette currently burning with you with a gaze you refused to return.

“Alright.” Sharon stopped, making the group stop as well. “He’s in there. Container 4261. I’ll keep an eye out while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry; we’re on borrowed time.”

You each grabbed one of the earpieces she held in her palm, slipping it comfortably in your ear. “I’ll stay back with you.” Sharon went to talk, but you cut her off. “I’d feel better knowing it’s not just you out here.”

She pursed her lips, before nodding. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

“Doll-”

“I’ll be fine, Buck.” You insisted, checking your gun to make sure it was loaded. Bucky stayed quiet, nodding in begrudging acceptance.

You and Sharon headed off as the boys went towards the storage unit. “Just like old times, huh?” Sharon raised an eyebrow at you.

You grinned, shoving your gun in the thigh holster she let you borrow. “Let the good times roll, babe.”

“Absolutely.” Sharon winked, before you two split up to cover more ground. It wasn’t long before Sharon announced company and you took off sprinting in her direction.

You got to her just as more thugs approached her from behind, immediately lunging into action.

“Hey, so, we never finished that conversation!”

You grunted as you roundhouse kicked a guy, hooking your knee over his shoulder and pulling him to the ground by the neck “Really?! You wanna do that now?!”

“Sure! I’m not too busy!”

You rolled your eyes at her reply, seeing her knock a guy unconscious before she turned around to knee another one in the face. “What were we talking about?”

“Why’re you holding back?”

“It’s complicated!” You elbowed a guy in the ribs, flipping him over your shoulder and twisting his arm till a sickening crack sounded.

“Because of Steve?!”

“Yes - no! Kind of!”

Sharon was on the floor choking a guy out as you slammed a guy’s head into a shipping container, pushing him at another guy. “You loved him didn’t you?! And I mean, like in love with him!”

“Who?!” You laced your fingers around the back of his head and brought his face down onto his knee.

“Director Fury!” You gave her a look which she snorted at. “Steve, you dumbass! Who else?!”

“Yeah! No shit I was in love with him!” You ran up the side of a storage unit to do a backflip and land on some guy’s shoulders, choking him out. Before he fell, you rolled off, tripping a guy in the process and elbowing his throat.

“Well at least you’re admitting it now!”

You were hit in the back of the head, thrown into a wrestle with another guy on the ground. You bit his hand, making him cry out, before you headbutted him.

“You couldn’t even hear his name without having to remind people you were ‘just friends’!”

“We were just friends, Share! You know that!”

You heard her shoot of a gun a few times as you smacked someone in the back of the head with the butt of your gun, trying to save ammo. “You really never did anything about it?!”

“No!”

She glanced at you incredulously from across the way, bodies now littering the ground. “And you don’t regret that?”

“No.” You sighed at her look, relenting. “Yes. Kind of. I dunno. I mean…he’s happy with his decision, and for me that’s enough.”

“But doesn’t it hurt?”

“Of course it hurts. It hurts like hell. But-”

“But you still have him so it’s all good.”

You bit your lip, shrugging. “Something like that.”

Sharon tilted her head, confused. “So why don’t you tell him?”

“I dunno. I don’t think either of us is ready.”

“C’mon. I saw you two earlier. You should’ve just kissed him.”

Rolling your eyes, you frowned when you noticed something missing. “Ah shit. My ear piece. It must’ve fallen out earlier.” You looked around, but Sharon stopped you, nodding her head between a couple shipping containers.

“Don’t worry about it. Mine broke a little while ago, too. Let’s go get the guys. Tell them we need to leave.”

You nodded and started running with her to the unit Nagel’s lab was in. You followed her around the corner, only to widen your eyes and shove her out of the way. Two gunshots rang out, Sharon catching the guy right between the eyes, while the man’s bullet grazed your shoulder.

“Ow, fuck.” You hissed, hand immediately going up to clamp your wound.

“Dammit! You shouldn’t have done that, you idiot!”

You gave her a look. “You’re welcome.”

Rolling her eyes, she quickly tore off part of your shirt. “Hey!”

“First off, this is my shirt. Second, I’m just making it more of a crop top. Third, it’s your own fault, so quit your whining.”

“Touchy touchy.” You grumbled, wincing when she tied it around your arm.

“Just come on. And hey,” she turned to you as she sprinted with your wrist in her hold. “My advice? Don’t wait. Seriously. I know it must be weird, the whole he’s his best friend, he was your best friend, now he’s your best friend, thing you’ve got going on, but there’s nothing else stopping you. Steve made his choice. And he’d be fine with whatever you choose as long as you’re happy.”

You shook your head. “But Bucky’s still healing-”

“So? He’s already been on dates. I think you’re just using that as an excuse to protect your heart from hurting again. Trust me; Barnes isn’t going anywhere.”

Not able to respond since you were making your way to the guys in Nagel’s lab, you bit your lip, hating that she got the last say in the conversation. She definitely planned it so she would. “We’re outta time, fellas.”

As if things couldn’t get worse Zemo - that fucking snake, you knew he was gonna do something stupid - took out a gun he got from who knows where. You sure as hell didn’t let him have a gun. Before you could stop him, he shot Nagel, your best, your only, lead.

“Goddammit!” You growled as Sam and Sharon restrained him. “You fucking-”

The explosion came next, again happening faster than you could react. Bucky grabbed you and pulled you underneath him, covering you with his body as glass and metal flew around you. With ringing ears, you groaned, squinting your eyes open.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You were vaguely aware of the alarms going off, a red light blinking behind Bucky’s head. You nodded, his worried eyes softening just slightly at your response. “We gotta get out-”

“I know, I know. C’mon.” He helped you up, eyes catching sight of the makeshift bandage on your arm. “Dammit, what did you do?”

“I’m fine.” You pushed his hands off. “Go help Sharon. We’ve gotta move. Now.” He huffed, but nodded and moved over to get Sharon. You tried to see where Zemo went through the smoke, but he was already gone.

You four made it just before the whole thing combusted due to the chemicals in the lab. So much for any evidence or leads.

The moment you got out, you were thrust into a gunfight, rolling your eyes as Bucky and Sam, once again, did their own thing.

“Are they always like this?”

“Usually it’s worse. Wait until they start arguing about who was right.” Sharon gave you an unamused look to which you nodded at, ducking when a bullet whizzed by you. “I know. It’s so annoying.”

Sure enough, when Bucky ran out of bullets, the bickering commenced, making you huff and Sharon shout at them. “Are they serious?”

You shot a few more bullets before your gun started clicking. “Dammit. Unfortunately.”

“I’m out!”

“Me too!”

Another explosion and a person you couldn’t see clearly through the haze caused a distraction for you guys to get away, Sam practically shoving you and Sharon into an open shipping container as Bucky took care of a couple more bounty hunters.

“What happened? Both of your comms went out.” Bucky growled once he came in behind you, grabbing your forearm to study your wound.

“It’s just a graze. Chill your ass down. I lost my earpiece and Sharon’s broke.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his voice low with warning. “What. Happened.”

“We rounded a corner, the guy was there. I shoved Sharon, he shot, she shot, I got hit, he’s now dead. Happy?”

“You promised.” He snapped, finger tightening on your arm. “You said you’d save yourself first.”

“Buck, let go.” Grabbing his wrist, you tugged a bit, wincing slightly. “Seriously. Stop. That hurts.”

He blinked, his features slacking and his fingers immediately dropping your arm. “Doll, I-I…fuck.” He turned to go punch through the back wall to get out of the unit you were in.

Before you could respond and tell him it was fine, the Baron himself drove up in a slick blue convertible. You groaned at Bucky’s response to Zemo. “We need him.” God, you were getting tired of hearing that.

“You’re lucky I don’t bash your head in.” You growled at him.

“If you try that shit again-”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Sam raised an eyebrow when Bucky got into the passenger’s seat with no hesitation, looking at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but you shrugged and slipped into the back with Sam. Bucky and you always took the back seat. You had ever since the dumb little blue car Steve got.

You hugged Sharon in parting, knowing she couldn’t come with. “Hey.” She looked at you sternly. “Take a leap.”

“We’ll see.” You told her, sitting down and buckling.

“Do better than that, Y/L/N. And get me that pardon you promised me.” She told Sam, pointing at him..

“Thanks for everything.” She nodded, before jogging off in the opposite direction you’d be heading. Sam turned back to the front, an annoyed expression crossing his face. “You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?”

“No.”

You snickered as Sam shot you a glare, Zemo starting to drive the car out of the shipping yard, away from the chaos.

****************

You collapsed onto the seat in front of Bucky, leaning onto the knee he had propped up against the back. He glanced up at you, face blank, before looking back down at his metal hand he was cleaning.

“Here. Let me see-”

“I got it.” He grumbled, shifting away from where your hands reached for his.

Your eyes widened, stunned at his reaction. “Bucky, just let me-”

“I said no, Y/N.” Your name. Again. You can’t remember him calling you ‘doll’ since before the shipping yard explosion.

“Are you okay?” He merely grunted. You straightened off his leg, swatting his knees with the back of your hand. “Hey.”

He shifted again, planting his feet on the floor. “Stop.”

“No.”

He shot you a warning glare. “Y/N-”

“Stop calling me that.”

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“What is wrong with you?” You scrunched up your features in confusion and concern. “Is this about my arm? I told you it’s fine.” You got no response except his eye flickering to your now properly bandaged shoulder. “Why are you acting so weird?”

He shrugged. “I’m not.”

You scoffed in disbelief, jaw dropping. “You’re not.”

“Nope.”

“Fine.” You stood up, brushing your legs off, the bare skin having splotches and smears of dirt and dust. “If you wanna be like that, go ahead. Brood. Be a child. When you’re ready to talk to me about whatever the hell is bothering you, like an adult, I’ll be in the back room.”

You only took two steps before he called out for you. “Doll.” You turned around, an expectant look on your features as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one foot. He looked up at you nervously, before looking down and picking at the metal plates of his hand. “I got scared.”

Your features softened, your head tilting gently. “Scared?”

“When you stopped talking. You and Sharon…you were talking. But both of your comms went down around the same time and I…it scared me. I-I don’t get scared anymore. Not the way I did when your voice stopped. I didn’t mean to hurt you…” His voice got quieter at the last sentence, his eyes looking to the purple handprint on your forearm.

“It was an accident, Buck.” You reassured him, settling back down in front of him. “It’s fine. You were still reeling it in from the bar. I know it’s hard for you to judge your strength like that. Steve had problems like that too.” You looked down at the rag he was holding, putting your hand out.

He licked his lips, before handing you the rag. You got off the couch to shift so you were sitting between his legs, his chest to your back. Holding his metallic hand between both of yours, you set to work, gingerly wiping away the grime, picking at the filth that wedged itself between the plates.

“He,” you chuckled, shaking your head at the moment you were remembering. “He accidentally gave me a concussion once when we were sparring. At first it was awesome; he got me my favorite take out and took me to the movies and all that. But then he just started getting annoying. Wouldn’t even let me reach for the TV remote on the coffee table a yard away.”

“Can I ask you something?” You hummed, tilting your head slightly when you felt his chin hooking on your shoulder, giving him more room. “How long did you love him?”

Freezing, you raised an eyebrow and turned to face him. “What?”

“You and Sharon. When you were talking…your comms were on.”

“How-” You swallowed thickly, a lump suddenly forming in the back of your throat. “How much did you hear?”

“Yours went out right after you admitted you were in love with him. Hers went out after you said you were just friends.”

Holding in a sigh of relief, you went back to cleaning his hand. “I don’t really know exactly when it happened. After the Battle of New York, maybe. So 2012, I guess? I dunno. I was getting up from falling for him, though. A few years later.”

“Was?”

“I - yeah. I kind of…fell again.”

He hummed, leaning back, taking his chin off your shoulder and unwinding his arm from your waist. “He’s an easy person to fall for. Hell, I’m pretty sure I had a crush on him once upon a time.”

You chuckled at that, raising an eyebrow over your shoulder at him. “I never said I fell for him again. But, yeah. You’re right.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “You like someone else?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“Oh…” He cleared his throat as you went back to his hand. “Uh…so you don’t still love him? Steve, I mean?”

“He was the first person I really loved, Bucky. A part of me will always love him.”

Bucky fingers twitched in your hold, the fingers on his other hand tapping against his thigh. “You know…he loved you too.”

You sighed, closing your eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“It’s true-”

“He left, James. If he loved me, why would he leave?”

You could feel his hesitation as his next words left his lips. “I-I dunno.” That was a lie. You could hear it in his voice. If there was one person Steve trusted more than you, it was Bucky. Of course he knew.

“Listen, I really don’t want to talk about this-”

“It’s in the notebook.” You bit your lip as Bucky shifted, pulling out the little notebook from his pocket. “He made lists - he liked lists. He made lists of things you said that made him laugh. Songs that reminded him of you. Little quirks you do that he noticed over the years. He missed you every time you went on a mission and prayed you’d get back safely.”

“James, please-”

“He didn’t want me to let you know. But I had to tell you. You have to know. He loved you.”

You let out a shaky breath as he placed the book on your thigh. You stared at it for a moment, before grabbing it and placing it in his left hand, closing his fingers around it and standing up. “I think…I’m gonna go rest for a bit in the back room. Holler if you need me.”

You didn’t wait for a response, moving quickly to the small back room of the plane which you got dressed in only a couple days ago. It only had one arm chair and instead of a door there was a curtain, but you were fine with that, plopping down in the chair and reclining.

Why? Why would he bring that up? Did he hear more than he said? Was he trying to let you down easy before you could even tell him how you felt? Did he get spooked after dancing? After the almost-kiss?

You never thought of Steve in the wrong. After all he’d done for the world in his life, he deserved to be selfish - to be happy. And Peggy gave him that. But why? Why would he leave if he loved you so dearly? If he really did what Bucky said? He wouldn’t. He’s not cruel. He wouldn’t up and leave, without even saying goodbye, knowing how deeply you loved him and feeling the same about you. This was Steven Grant Rogers for crying out loud! He wouldn’t…right?

But Bucky…he wouldn’t lie to you. He wouldn’t tell you that, especially knowing how much you missed the lovable blonde. And you knew his words held at least some truth. Actions spoke louder than words, and as something Bucky said repeated itself in your mind, you started slipping into a memory, your eyes shutting and your breaths evening out.

“He missed you every time you went on a mission and prayed you’d get back safely.”

The incessant knocking made you groan, shouting that you were coming and mumbling curses. You barely threw open the door before his worried voice hit your ears. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”

“Stevie.” You sighed, rubbing your eyes and looking over at the clock on the wall. “Bubs…it’s two in the morning. I just got back, like, an hour ago.”

He shuffled, pink lips in a pout, eyes round and distressed. “I know, honey. I know. I’m sorry. But I heard you got hurt-”

You shook your head, a small giggle of amusement leaving your lips and you lifted your right hand, letting him see the black split holding your ring and pinky fingers. “I jammed my fingers in a door. The doc said I’ll be fully healed in a month at most.”

His eyes darted across your face and down your body, scanning for any more injuries. After glancing at your hands again, they finally landed on your eyes once more. Next thing you knew, you were being held against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck. You hummed softly, running your fingers down his spine, moving the two of you deeper into your apartment so you could shut the door.

“Don’t ever do that again. I gotta have faith in something and if you come home hurt, it’ll be crushed.”

Your eyebrows knit together. At his strange wording. “What’s that mean?”

“It means you have to promise me you’ll stay safe, honey.” He pulled back and held your face between his hands. “Please.”

“I can promise I’ll try my best.” You teased lightly, smiling at him and booping his nose, making him grin, although it was strained. “Why don’t you stay here tonight? We’ll turn on some TV in my room and you can keep me safe while I get much needed sleep.”

That made his grin relax into a real one, his head nodding in agreement. “Sounds perfect.”

“C’mon, bubs.” You took his hand, leading him to your room. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and you’ll catch some zzzz’s too.”

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

“What the hell was that?”

Bucky turned to Sam, who was gaping at him in utter disbelief, looking from the assassin to the doorway Y/N just walked through. “She needed to know.”

“Buck, she’s been dealing with some shit. And we both know something’s going on that she isn’t telling us. Her “zoning out” isn’t just zoning out, and we know that. She doesn’t need you confusing her even more.”

“Confusing her?”

Sam blinked, his troubled expression falling into a deadpan. “Are you fucking with me? No. There’s no way you’re that naive. Seriously?! Man, c’mon!”

Bucky scrunched up his face. “What?”

“She likes you, man! Everyone knows it!”

The brunette shook his head, forehead creased. “No. No, you heard her, Sam. She’s in love with Steve.”

“Was in love. As in past tense.”

“But-but she said- she likes someone else-”

“Barnes!” Sam threw his hands up, exasperated. “You are someone else!”

“I thought you two were already-”

Bucky pointed warningly at Zemo. “Watch it. Wait, wait-” He turned back to Sam. “But I heard her-”

“Bucky…man…” Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Listen, I can’t tell you everything. I’m not about to break my girl’s trust like that. But you gotta hear me when I tell you she likes you. What do you think almost happened at the party?”

“She - I - it was…an accident?”

Sam spluttered, eyes wide. “An accident? You two grinding and nearly making out was an accident?!”

“Woah! We were not…grinding-”

Zemo hummed. “Hmm…you kind of were.”

Bucky glared at him. “Thin. Fucking. Ice.” He whipped back to Sam. “I just remind her of him.”

“What?! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! You remind her of Steve? Yes, granted your both dumbasses, but she knows both of you enough to know there’s quite a few big differences.”

“Wilson-”

Sam held up his hand, shutting Bucky up. “You like her. Yes or no.”

Bucky huffed, looking down at the hand she was holding only minutes ago. “Yes.” He finally relented. “Since the first couple months in Wakanda.”

“Steve liked her. Yes or no.”

He ran a hand through his hair, nodding his head. “Yes. Yes he liked her. I wasn’t lying about that.”

“So explain something to me.” Sam crossed his arms. “Why is it that Steve isn’t here, and you are?”

Bucky crossed his arms, brooding - although he’d never admit it - while staring out the window. “Steve…knew. I liked her. And, yes, he loved her, but he also loved Peggy. So he…”

“He told you to take your chance with Y/N, and he went back to be with his first love.”

HYDRA’s former fist nodded with a sigh. “Something like that.”

“You need to tell her.”

“I can’t.”

Sam groaned. “Why not?!”

“Because!” Bucky took a breath, trying not to shout and alert the sleeping girl in the room over, his ears tuning into her slowed heartbeat to make sure she was okay. “Because Steve has her heart, Sam. The whole thing just…I’m jealous of him. Because he got her first. And then I get mad because he didn’t do shit about it. And then I feel guilty because all the shit he put up with for me and here I am complaining…and then I just get…depressed because he’s not here. I used to be the one who fixed his problems. But after I got out…he’s been the one fixing mine. And I just…I don’t know what to do.”

Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I get it. That’s valid. But stop whining and moping around about it. It happened. And you need to get your shit together. If not for your sake, for hers. Because she lost him too. And she’s probably feeling those exact same feelings.”

“But…she’s his girl-”

“No. She’s not. He made his choice.” Sam nodded towards Bucky. “Now you gotta make yours, Buckaroo.”

He shot him a glare. “You can’t call me that.”

“Why not? Y/N calls you that.”

“Y/N has a plan.”

“We both know that’s not true, Buckaroo. Hey! That one rhymed!”

Bucky shook his head with a scowl. “I will beat your ass, Wilson.”

Sam scoffed, shoving Bucky’s head playfully. “Stop being a dumbass and tell her. Buckaroo.”

“That’s it!”

Bucky tackled Sam to the ground, Zemo giving them an amused expression before leaving to talk to Oeznik. They were so wrapped up in their wrestling session, they didn’t notice the woman leaning against the wall, tired eyes barely opened as her eyebrows raised, unimpressed.

“Are you fellas done?’

They both stopped, shooting up when they noticed her. “Doll, I-”

She shook her head. “Don’t, Buck. Not right now. I’m just really tired.”

“Did we wake you?” Sam winced.

She shook her head again, yawning. “No. I just needed to use the restroom.”

Bucky couldn’t help the small smile as she rubbed her eyes, stretching her arms overhead, making that ripped crop top ride higher up. She was too cute. And she didn’t even realize it.

“Sleep well, doll. We’ll try to keep it down.”

She nodded, turning and waving over her shoulder. “You two try getting sleep, too, alright? Goodnight, Sammy.”

“Night, cher.”

“Sweetheart?” She peeked through the curtain, tilting her head slightly. “You know I love you, right?”

A small smile quirked up her lips, but it was sadder than the ones his question usually elicited. “As long as you know I love you.”

He nodded, returning the half-smile. “G’night, doll.”

“Goodnight, Buckaroo.”

2K notes · View notes

sparklingaquarius · 3 years

Note

Can you do one maybe after your breakup with Bucky? Like seeing him for the first time?

Worry

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Type: One Shot

A/N: oh this was so much fun to write, thanks for being my first request! turned out to be a bit longer than i had initially entailed, but longer fics the better, right? i am so sorry it took so long to get to you, i take a bit longer to write to make sure it is the best i can do! i hope you enjoy dear nonnie :)

REQUESTS: OPEN

****************************************************************

5 years ago today you had gotten engaged. You were engaged to the man you thought was the love of your life, then the unexplainable happened, you were gone from existence for 5 years. You couldn’t explain what happened, as you didn’t know it was 5 years, it felt more like 5 minutes. But, when you came back, to your house, your life, you realized the extent of what had happened. The man who had proposed to you 5 years ago, wanted to start a life with you, had done that with someone else. The man who told you he loved you continuously every day was now telling it to another woman in your apartment. You were devastated, upset enough to forget all the things you figured were no longer left in the apartment and run away to a new city and start a new life.

Then you met Bucky.

When you met Bucky, you could feel yourself rejuvenate, come back to life. You were discovering what love was like all over again, he was helping you heal after what happened, and you were helping him heal from his own troubles. You two were right for each other, as your friends and his had both told you. You finally felt like things were falling into place for you, and you had hoped things were falling into place for Bucky all the same. You felt like this was meant to be, that maybe losing those 5 years was the best thing to ever happen to you instead of the worst.

Then you found out.

You had found out that San Wilson needed Bucky’s help in catching a group and that would require Buck to leave and travel immediately. You knew this day would be coming, and you knew you couldn’t and wouldn’t stop him. You were selfish sure, hell you had every reason to be selfish, but you weren’t that selfish. But you also knew that you weren’t able to handle not hearing from him days on end. You were too much of a worry wart, and especially with missions as big and dangerous that Bucky will end up taking on, you couldn’t do that to yourself, or to him. So, before he had to leave to meet Sam, you knew what you had to do and end it with him. You knew how it would hurt both of you, but you also knew Bucky would know you would be worrying constantly, especially if he didn’t get in contact, so it made the process a bit easier for the both of you this way.

That was 2 months ago.

It’s been 2 months since the breakup, 2 months since you heard from Bucky. You knew it was better this way, but that didn’t help the ache you felt in the pit of your stomach every time you looked at the box of his things you had packed up sitting in the corner of your bedroom. You knew you should’ve just dumped it, but you wanted to give them back to him, whenever you could see him. He wasn’t back yet from his mission with Sam, you thought, so the box of his washed and folded clothes he left at your place, the cologne he bought and would wear specifically for you, and a little stuffed teddy bear named Mr. Waddles you won him at a fair that he kept at your place because it looked way cuter on your bed than his, all remained in the corner on a chair in your room.

You would wake up every morning and face the box, seeing Mr. Waddles’s head stick out of it, and you sighed. All the memories would flow back, and the ache you tried to push down and keep out of mind came back full force, and you desperately just tried to forget him for the day. But you knew you just couldn’t. You knew that no matter how hard you tried to forget Bucky, that you just couldn’t. All the memories played in your mind like a film, and all the love and warmness he made you feel returned to you when you would see them in your mind. Even though you had broken up, you were still in love with him, and you still worried about him. Wherever he was, that was something you couldn’t deny, something you wouldn’t deny. But you had to move on, and today, like every day, you had to live your life Bucky free, and march on living. Today was Saturday, which means it was time to go grocery shopping, an activity you loathed but one that Bucky loved and always made fun for you. You smiled softly to yourself and got up and got dressed, remembering how he would always challenge you and say “last one to the car has to push the shopping cart” to motivate you to get out of bed. You remembered this as you currently got out of bed to get ready to go do your shopping. The quicker you accomplished it, the quicker you could get home and relax.

************************************************************************

As you were pulling your credit card out of your purse at the grocery store, you looked up and saw a very familiar face walk through the doors, entering. You gave the cashier your card and you walked over fast to the person and you held your breath.

“Sam?” you asked a bit breathlessly, shocked to see him back home. And if you saw Sam back home, then you knew Bucky was back home as well.

Sam turned around as he heard his name, and more importantly, your voice, and he smiled softly at you. Although Bucky would never admit it, Sam was one of his best friends besides Steve, so Sam was around a lot for your relationship, and you considered him a friend and big brother you never had. “Well hello there little rocket, how the hell are you?” Sam asked you laughing as he opened his arms to give you a hug, and you chuckled hugging him gently. Sam had nicknamed you Little Rocket when you told him that in high school you were on your school’s track team and you were in fact very fast, giving him your time in your races.

As you broke the hug you cleared your throat and smiled softly looking back at him. “I’m doing as good as I can, I mean I’m grocery shopping so I’m as miserable as ever.” You joked and laughed softly, and Sam as well laughed.

“Yeah Buck did always say you hate grocery shopping.” He said, casually mentioning his name and you just nodded, not wanting to out right ask Sam about Bucky.

You and Sam walked back to your cart to put your bags in your cart so you could finish checking out, and you organized your cart as you watched Sam jump into helping you accomplish the task quicker. “So I see you’re back home, I assume the mission went well considering you were only gone for 2 months?” you asked him, trying to break the silence between you two.

Sam put the last bag in your cart and he nodded, immediately pushing it out as he followed you to your car. “Yeah, I mean it went as well as it could. We got the end result we desired, not the tactics we wanted to take. But I don’t have any broken bones and if I can escape spraining my wrist or ankle again I’ll consider it a win.” He smirked and you shook your head laughing.

“Yeah that would be such a tragedy if Captain America had a sprained wrist. How ever will he hold his shield up? A crime to this country.” You joked, popping your trunk to put bags in it.

“Damn you saw that? I was hoping to stop by with my shield, you know like a trick or treater.” Sam told you and you rolled your eyes shaking your head.

“I watch the news dummy. I’m so proud of you, but you knew that. But the suit looks good on you, nice and tight.” You winked and smirked, not finding the comment odd because that’s how your and Sam’s relationship was. Always funny comments without any meaning.

Sam smirked and finished putting the bags in and he looked at you, leaning against the car a bit, “So you were looking at me instead of Bucky in those clips? Or are you trying to butter me up into asking about him? I know you’re curious. He’s back home, adjusting. He wouldn’t admit it, but I know he was thinking about you just as much as you were him. And don’t even try to deny it lady, you were thinking about him.” Sam told you bluntly, and a part of you was relieved he got to the point.

You sighed and crossed your arms nodding, looking down at the pavement. “I can never lie to you Samuel, but I was going to ask if he’s home. I wanted to drop a box of his stuff off, you know stuff that was left at my place.” You admit, semi truthfully.

Sam listens to you and nods, clicking his tongue. “You sure that’s all you want to do in seeing him?” he asks raising an eyebrow and you take a deep breath and simply shrug your shoulders. “In my honest advice, take the stuff but you two need to talk. Whether it be about what happened between you two or just to catch up, you need to talk. For his sake and for yours. He talked about you briefly, but enough while we were gone. He needs closure, reasoning. Hell maybe you two can even make up and make it work. If not, then it’ll bring the closure you two need. You two had something special. Don’t let it go down in flames.” He tells you and pushes the cart back and he points to you smirking “You better make up! I miss weekly taco nights, you give it the right amount of spice.” He smirks and winks and walks into the store, leaving you with the short but deep thoughts.

Once you got home and unpacked your food, you went into your room and looked at Bucky’s box of things in the corner, tempting you. You took a deep breath and let a sigh out, knowing Sam was right. Besides, you were desperate to see Bucky, even just a glimpse of his face. You took a look over yourself in the mirror, making sure you looked presentable, and well good. You were going to drop a box of stuff off to your ex-boyfriend and you wanted to look good. You chuckled at yourself and grabbed the box and drove over to his apartment, not sure what you would be met with when you got there.

You still had the key to Bucky’s apartment building on your key ring. You felt like letting that go would be officially letting him go. This time you were thankful as you let yourself into the building and made your way up to the third floor to Bucky’s apartment. You took a deep breath as the elevator ascended and as it stopped and let you out, you walked nervously and slowly to his apartment. As you stood face to face with his shut door, you gently reached out and knocked on his door, not to loud to scare him, but loud enough to make sure he knew someone was there.

After about a minute of him not coming to the door, you knocked again, wondering if he was even home. After still no answer, you were about ready to turn around and leave when suddenly the door was open slowly, and there in grey sweats and a shirt to match, stood the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid your eyes on, that man being Bucky Barnes.

He stood in front of you, looking at you a bit in awe and disbelief. He swallowed gently as he took you in and he opened the door a bit more. “I looked through the peep hole, wondering who was knocking on my door. I was a bit shocked that it was you.” He told you, his tone soft and you looked down in the box nodding.

“If I’m being honest, I’m a bit shocked you even answered the door. I didn’t think you would want to even see me.” You told him, licking your lips nervously. “I’m also shocked you kept your hair short, if I recall you said it once made you feel like an old man?” You ask him, trying to get the banter going again.

Bucky laughed softly shaking his head as he led you inside the apartment you’ve been in over hundreds of times. “That’s just silly, not wanting to see you. And how could I destroy this magical hair cut? I had the best hair dresser in town.” He tells you, smirking softly as he keeps his eyes detailed to your every move.

You walk in and set the box down on the table, some color returning to your cheeks and you groan a bit shaking your head, turning to face him. “I wouldn’t say I was a hair dresser now, a fast learner from YouTube tutorials.” You tell him narrowing your eyes, matching his smirk, the tension loosening a bit.

Bucky laughed and walked over to where you were, looking inside the box. Bucky didn’t care what was inside the box, he just wanted to be near you. Feel the energy you gave off again, one of the many things he missed. He picked up Mr. Waddles and he looked at him, trying his best not to look at you, despite him feeling your eyes on him. “I can tell this is a box of my stuff, but I am shocked to see Mr. Waddles in here. He looked way cuter on your bed than mine.” He tells you and you roll your eyes letting a laugh out.

“True but he is your bear. I won him for you. So that makes him yours, no takesies backsies.” You tell him smirking and look down at the floor, examining your shoes. “Besides if I cuddled with him anymore he wouldn’t smell like you so he needed to be with his rightful owner.” You admit looking up at Bucky finally, holding your breath as you saw his face stay soft.

Bucky kept his expression neutral and nodded simply as he looked through the box a bit and as he was looking away, you studied him. Studied his features. You loved looking at him, studying him. Whether it was when he was asleep or wasn’t paying attention, you loved taking him in. Which is exactly what you were doing now, and in your doing so, you noticed him wince a bit as he held a tshirt up. You raised an eyebrow and walked closer to him, standing next to him. “Bucky, why did you wince when you held the shirt up?” you ask curiously and defensively now, and you could hear him sighing.

“It’s nothing here doll, you know how some missions are. I get hit, I recover. Nothing to worry about.” He tells you, blowing it off, using the nickname he reserved for when he didn’t want you to worry about him.

You sighed and shook your head, putting his arm down to his side. “I think you’ve forgotten I also know when you’re lying. This is more than a hit Buck. Are you hurt? Did you get hurt?” You ask seriously, now worrying about him as you gently put his human arm out to examine it for any injuries. You rolled your eyes at his protests and noticed when you rolled up his sleeve he had a giant purple bruise on his arm with the entire area red in color. You figured he had gotten hurt but not to the point where there was clearly some kind of internal injury. You set the box down and led him to his couch, and you went to his hall closet to grab a kit you put together for him in case he ever got hurt.

You sat down next to him and looked at him seriously but with soft eyes. “Alright Buck, put your arm out.” You tell him seriously, and as he looks at you, the light from his eyes catching yours, a light indicating he was feeling something resembling happiness, he held out his vibranium arm, in an effort to tease you, smirking wide as he did. You shook your head biting your lip, rolling your eyes laughing grabbing the correct arm, as you began to bandage it and put it into a sling. “Oh very funny sailor.” You told him as you gently put his hand on your shoulder so you could have full coverage to it.

Bucky raised an eyebrow as he looked at where his hand was, the exposed skin of your shoulder that was warm to the touch, he could feel the below his fingers. He tried not to move his fingers to run them gently over it, so to distract himself he looked at you, focused so intently on making sure he was okay. He noticed a loose piece of hair was clouding your vision, so he used his free arm to move it out of your face. You held your breath as he did so, trying not to let it on that you were affected by a simple touch. Bucky smirked as he watched you, biting the inside of his cheek. “Now you and I both know I wasn’t a sailor, unless you know something about myself that I don’t?” he asked, completely messing with you now.

You smirked, biting your bottom lip gently and you laughed, finally looking at him. “You seem to forget I know all about you Barnes, my greatest advantage.” You tell him with a wink, and set the cloth you were using down. Bucky just kept his focus on you, realizing how badly he missed you during those 2 months, realizing how badly he hated breaking up, not having you, and how badly he needed you. He once again used his free hand to use two fingers to put them gently under your chin to turn your head to face him, so you’re both looking at each other.

“It was always you’re greatest advantage, knowing all about me. And in knowing all about me, you’ll know how badly I’ve missed you.” He lets out, his tone soft but serious, and you let your eyes wander up to his face, getting lose in his eyes.

You tried looking down, but your instincts were taking over in not letting you, as you felt the pull to him that you’ve always felt, and if you looked away you knew it would be gone, and you didn’t want it. You simply nodded and let a breath out through your nose. “Bucky…it was for the better…I mean—” you start and Bucky shakes his head and just leans in to give you a soft kiss to get you to stop talking. Before he left he didn’t get to kiss you goodbye, so he was considering this a makeup one.

After he backed his face up, he looked at you and reached up to cup your face, using his thumbs to pet your cheek. “It wasn’t for the better, can you honestly say you didn’t miss me? Miss that? You know all about me, and guess what? I know all about you. And I know you missed me, you didn’t want to break up. I read it on your face that night.” He tells you, his face serious and you continue to bite the inside of your cheek as he continues. “Can you honestly tell me that you didn’t think about me every night while I was gone? Didn’t think about the memories we had together? Because I did, every single night. And all I’ve wanted since I came back was to see you, to absorb you in any way I can, forget that night happened. Because I could tell that you broke up with me because you didn’t want me worrying about you.” He explains and you close your eyes listening.

“I didn’t want you worrying about me worrying about you. I thought breaking us up would lessen my worries. But it only made me worry about you more.” You admit softly, opening your eyes looking in his and he moved his thumbs to your lips, petting them softly.

“Well my sweet girl, that made two of us worry.” He says and he smiles. “No matter what, I will always worry about you. Whether we are together or apart, no matter where we are in the world. You will always be the number one thought on my mind, whether you like it or not.” He tells you smiling wide and genuinely now and you laugh softly looking down.

“Yeah Buck, you’re always my number one thought too. I just…when I broke up with you that night, I thought it was for the better. That we both would be better off. With you leaving more now, you helping Sam or whoever needs it, I just didn’t want you worrying about checking in, and I thought that if I didn’t need you to check in, I would be okay. That I wouldn’t worry about you. But, Jesus Christ, I wasn’t expecting ANYTHING from you and I still was worrying about you.” You admit, trying not to cry telling him this.

Bucky was listening and he adjusted so he could pull you into a hug, rocking you gently as he carefully wrapped his arms around you, and you did the same, soaking in the warmth radiating off him. “I just thought we’d be better off.” You whisper and he shakes his head, kissing the side of yours.

“Baby doll I am NEVER better off without you. You are the one who taught me to love again, you got me through a shit ton of stuff. You helped me every day, every night. Even if you didn’t do all of that, I still love you and can never be better off without you.” Bucky tells you gently but passionately and you let a breath out and bury your face in his shoulder nodding.

“I still love you too.” You mumbled into him, knowing it to be true, refusing to fight it or hide it. You knew it the night you broke up with him, you knew it the months he was gone, and you knew it now as you were cradled in his arms. “I’ll always worry about you when you go off on these missions. I can’t not.” You explain and Bucky rubbed your back gently, running his fingers up and down your spine.

“I know, I wouldn’t ask you not too. I’d rather you worry with me than without me.” He whispers into your ear and you just nod, kissing his shoulder.

“I hate to be without you, and I hated possibly hurting you, I’m so sorry.” You said and he chuckled, resting his chin on top of yours.

“Nah doll you didn’t hurt me. Because I knew that’s not what you really wanted. If it was then that’s a different story. You can never hurt me, I promise.” He told you, rocking you gently as you stayed pressed against him on the couch, the unsaid words of love and affirmation making their ways out with the physical actions. You were right where you needed to be, where you both needed to be. All the worry, the talks of him travelling can be discussed later. But for now, you needed to be with each other, soaking in the moments and love you both missed.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel one shot #bucky barns imagine #bucky barnes #mcu x reader #mcu fanfiction

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marvelsimp · 3 years

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The New Kid: Friend or Foe

The New Kid Masterlist

Ch. 5

Genre: Fluff? Pairing: Peter & Lesbian!reader, Avengers & Reader, (eventual Wanda x Reader it’s a slow burn) Warnings: violence(training), blood, stabbed, strong language Description: Y/n is getting used to living in the tower and makes an unlikely friend Reader’s Powers: Healer, telepath, and empath. Word Count: 2278

“You can’t pull your punches, Y/n/n. In a real fight, you’re gonna have to fight for your life.”

“You know my whole power set is pacifist.”

“That’s why I have to train you,” said the slightly annoyed red-haired woman. “Now get your head in the game and let’s go again.”

You scoffed; you were frustrated that you had to do this. That you had to learn how to hurt people. You took a moment to stretch and you both went back into your fighting stances to start again.

You went to punch her face, but she dodged, she then raised her leg and tried to kick but you caught her foot. She quickly got her foot free before you could do anything with it. This went on for a while, you both got some good punches and kicks. You did land on your ass a few times, but you got up each time and went back to it.

“Time out”

Thank god.

Steve walked in. Oh god no. You knew what was coming, you were gonna have to fight Steve. You very dramatically fell on the floor and spread out. “Come on, Nat. This is creeping up on child abuse,” you laugh.

You earned a chuckle out of both of them. Steve stood above you and offered you his hand to which you accepted. Nat went onto showing you some simple moves to help you fight someone bigger than you after about an hour you finally got to go and get a shower and really start your day.

The last week and a half passed by quickly. Peter stayed at the tower for the first few nights but went back home once school started. But he would come after patrol and he still video called during homework, like usual.

Most of your time was spent in one of the labs. You have been helping Tony with one of his suits as a way for him to familiarize you with the machines and programs. Bruce did less hands-on work he worked on calculations for his own projects and did some work for SHEILD. You went down to the Med Lab a few times to give Dr. Cho some blood samples or some information about your powers. She took a small sample of skin, fat, and muscle from your thigh, but it healed within a minute like nothing ever happened.

You also spent some time in the gym, which you hated but the others made it a little more fun. You were really only doing it to get ready for training with Nat. When you first went in you had no clue what you were doing. Sam, Bucky, and Steve were doing some training exercise when you entered but Sam quickly saw your very clueless face and walked over to help.

“Hey, kid.”

“Hi.”

“I’m assuming you have no clue what you’re doing? You look as clueless as I would if I went up to the Tech Lab.”

“That obvious?”

He let out a chuckle. Sam gave you some stretches to warm up and then showed you how to use some of the machines. He gave you advice on how long to use each machine and told you that if you needed anything just yell. The rest of your time in the gym you watched the three men do whatever they were doing. Sam and Bucky’s bickering was very entertaining and so was Steve yelling at them to focus. You were there for around an hour every day until Nat started to train you. You very quickly learned that you grew muscle faster than the average person and you weren’t sore for very long.

When you weren’t in the lab or the gym you were probably in your room playing a game or you were talking to Wanda while she was making a meal. “So, are you the assigned cook?” you joked. You’d only ever seen Wanda prepare meals since you got here.

Wanda just shook her head, “Not really. I just enjoy it, so I usually am the one to cook. But Bruce sometimes cooks and so do Steve and Bucky. When I first joined I helped Steve add a bit of flavor to his meals. Thank god I didn’t live in the 40s.” She laughed a little, you love her laugh and smile, they seem to make the room a little brighter.

You weren’t a cook yourself so you didn’t help too much, but you would talk to her and get her something if she needed it but usually, she’d just use her powers.

That’s really the only time that you see Wanda, most of her day is spent training. She’s Strange’s apprentice. You still haven’t met him, for someone who can make portals you’d think he’d pop in at some point. You asked Wanda about seeing him, but she told you that you need to be invited or it needs to be something important. She warned against pissing him off because it takes a while to get back on his good side. But she told you she’d mention it to him.

You got into a rhythm of training, breakfast, tech lab, lunch, med lab, tech lab, supper, and Video games, the library, or more time in the tech lab. It was rarely thrown off. Every few days someone would go out for a mission or return from one. Nat only missed two training sessions, so Bucky stood in. You enjoyed training with Nat, but Bucky made sure to put some fun into it. At first, he seemed so cold but after some warming up, he really was just a big Teddy Bear. He can still be an ass though.

Your days stayed on this loop for another week until Thor returned with Loki. No one fully trusted Loki so Stark ended up putting a tracker on him that Wanda enchanted so that Loki couldn’t remove or deactivate it… he was not impressed. Well, he was, just not pleased.

“You must be Lady Y/n,” Loki smirked.

Thor whacked the back of Loki’s head. “Be good,” he whispered.

Loki just let out a mischievous laugh, “Don’t worry brother.” Loki turned back to you, “So you’re the one who discovered me? I wouldn’t expect a mere mortal would be able to find me out... not even THE Scarlet Witch did.”

“You’re impressed?” you scoffed. “Or maybe a little jealous.” You knew that he’s the god of mischief and you aren’t gonna deal with any of his shit, you’ve got enough going on.

“No,” he defended, “Just interested.”

“I’m a telepath and empath,” you explained, “and a healer.”

“Oh! So, you cheated!”

“What do you mean cheat? Your thoughts were so loud you were giving me a headache!”

“I will get my revenge.”

He’s going to so annoying, isn’t he?

Loki was surprisingly quiet over the next week until you went to the tower’s library.

The library itself is a whole floor, it has a copy of every book you could think of. It even has a librarian who is almost constantly putting up new releases. It’s a bookworm’s dream.

You wanted to find a physics book or two and you weren’t against finding a new queer fantasy book. You returned your books and asked Mx. Anderson where you could find what you were looking for and they quickly gave you directions and suggestions.

You found and picked out a few physics books and then made your way to the young adult section. The queer books have a rainbow sticker on the spine. You picked out a few then headed to leave, you walked into the “classics” section and there was Loki on a couch reading with a pile of books next to him.

“Hey,” you smiled.

“Hello,” said the Asgardian who didn’t even look up from his book.

You bent down a little to sew the cover of the surprisingly thin book. “Oh, you’re reading Shakespeare!” He was reading Hamlet. “My favorite is Romeo and Juliet. Have you read it yet?” He finally looked up from his book. “No,” he seemed a little confused, “But I did read a few others of his work and I think that is in my stack.” He turned to find it. “It has such odd language compared to the rest of you.”

“They were written like four hundred years ago,” you explained, sitting next to him.

“Ah, language does change quite quickly.”

You nodded in agreement.

“What are you reading?” he said pointing at your stack of books.

“Oh, uh um. These big books are physics books, and these smaller ones are fantasy romance.”

“Hmm, you don’t seem to be one who reads romance.”

“Well, I’m really more into it for the fantasy elements but I do enjoy a good romance.”

He gave you a smirk,” Besides Romeo and Juliet and any of Shakespeare’s works. Do you have any recommendations for me?”

You went on to recommend some classics and some more recent books. He listened to every word and asked a few questions. You didn’t stay long; you were tired and just wanted to dive into one of your books. You would usually be in the lab at this time, but it was nice to have a few hours to yourself before dinner.

“Knock, knock,” said a voice at your door.

“Hm?” you looked up. “Peter!” you set down your book and ran to him for a hug. It had been a while since Peter had come to the tower. He hadn’t even been introduced to Loki, formally that is. ‘How’s my favorite bug!”

Peter let out a laugh, “Good! You’re acting like we don’t talk every day.”

“Video calls and in-person are completely different things! Anyways what are you doing here?”

“It’s Thursday aka movie night.”

“Oh, yeah!”

You and Peter walked out of your room and went to the common space to eat dinner.

“Lady Y/n,” said a booming voice.

“Yes, Thor!”

“Would you and the Man of Spiders like to sit next to me and my brother?”

“Yes, we’d love that,” you laughed.

“So, you’re telling me that you’ve never had ice cream!” you practically yelled at Loki.

Everyone was surprised with how comfortable you and the trickster were with each other, especially Peter.

“What’s with you and him?” Peter whispered.

“We bonded over books,” you whispered back. “Your girlfriend would like him.”

Peter smiled, he’s pleased that you’re getting along with everyone and most of all that you’re happy.

The rest of the night was nice, it was just like the last two movie nights. Dinner, talking, movie, and then Peter had to leave to finish his homework or go on patrol.

The next week was just like you had gotten there but Loki had decided that it was a perfect time to really embrace his title. He started to pull little pranks, nothing too bad or really anything that went beyond a little annoyance. Or at least he didn’t until today.

It was Saturday so you slept in because you thankfully did not have to go to training. You were about to leave when you noticed a box on your desk. It was about the size of a backpack. So, you decided to open it and when you looked inside there was a black cat with emerald eyes. Who got you a cat? You like cats and like…thanks? But still, who would get you a cat out of nowhere? You picked up the cat and as soon as you did it started to transform, and you felt a sharp pain in your side. The cat continued to transform into of course… Loki. The raven hair man quickly sprinted out of your room to the common area.

You looked down and there was a fucking kitchen knife in your side.

“You bitch! I like this shirt!” you yelled while running out of your room.

When you entered the common room, Loki was nowhere to be seen. But Nat, Bucky, and Steve were there. “Where did he go?”

“Who?” Nat turned around and saw the knife in your side. Her eyes widened, then she looked fucking pissed. “What the fuck! Are you okay?” The men's emotions followed the same track.

“Oh yeah,” you said nonchalantly. You pulled the bloody knife out of your side. Some blood soaked into your shirt’s fabric, but you weren’t worried. But you do like this shirt… that bitch is gonna pay.

“Do you want me to kill him?” said the brunette man bluntly.

“Don’t worry, I got this.” You rushed into the elevator and told Friday to take you to Loki.

The elevator lowered to the Library. Of course.

“Sorry, Mx. Anderson!” you yelled while running by their desk. “There will be yelling and possibly blood shed!” You already know where he is. He’s in the classics.

There he was sitting on the couch, nonchalantly reading the Iliad.

“You’re a fucking bitch you know? I really like this shirt!” you waved the knife in your hand around.

“Oh please. You’re a healer, you’ll be fine.”

You crossed your arms, “LOKI. My fucking shirt.”

He raised his arms in defense. “It just a blood and a slight rip.”

You walked up to Loki and took off your shirt, thankfully you were wearing an undershirt that you didn’t care about. You handed the shirt to him. “Fix it then.”

He accepted the shirt and scoffed. “Fine.” He waved his hand over the shirt and it was now good as new.

“See, that was easy.” You grabbed the shirt and started to walk away. “And don’t stab me again! I think two assassins would very happily kill you!”

NEXT CHAPTER

Ice Cream or Blood

#The Avengers #avengers #loki #avengers x reader #reader-insert #x reader #lesbian reader #avengers x platonic!reader #peter parker #peter parker x platonic!reader

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lemonmeringueprincess · 3 years

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The Mind of a Broken Soldier (Leave Me Be, Chapter 2 )

Hello People of Tumblr ! It’s ya girl Hazel ! I am back again with another chapter which i am 100% sure NOBODY request it because nobody requested this story in the first place but i’m still continuing it because i feel like it. I was planning on continuing this story and give sly nods to WandaVision and The Falcon and The Winter Soldier here and there along the way. Not in this chapter but... maybe on future chapters. But I’ll see how this one goes and where my idea leads me to.

So you need to read Chapter 1 to be able to understand this chapter properly because this chapter is solely Bucky’s point of view of the reader and some random thoughts. I love reading novels and love their style of writing hence i aspire to write a decent and proper story fanfiction. I mean when you read some books, there will be several chapters viewed from that other characters’ perspective so i decided to implement that style to my story.

So once again, thank you so much if you decided to pop by, read it and love it. Don’t be shy to pop by my message box to share some ideas you have or maybe you just wanna vibe together, I’d love to do that with you guys too. But please please please don’t be mean if you don’t like it. FYI, this chapter is slightly shorter than the first chapter. Love, Hazel .

Disclaimer: No disclaimer or any warnings. But definitely do me and yourself a favour and check out Chapter 1 so you can properly comprehend this chapter with ease :)

Characters : Bucky x Reader; teeny weeny mention of Sam :)

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“Look man, I know we don’t really see eye to eye but I call to check on her…How’s she doin’?” Sam heaved a sigh of empathy from across the line.

I tightened my grip upon the thin, slick and smooth communication tool which now known as smartphone that I hadn’t had the chance to acquaint with. I let out a sigh of desperation, desperate of ways to haul her from the rabbit hole she’s now falling into. My fingers combing through my unruly long hair that’s bundled up in a disheveled bun. A bad habit of mine when I’m in desperation and anxiety.

“It’s been a week since Steve walked out from her life and if I’m being honest, Sam, she’s not doing very well. She’s…she’s been nestled up in her room since then.” I heaved another sigh of despair, my right human arm gripping the kitchen counter tightly in effort to prop myself while the other man-made hand still latched onto the phone.

“I even had to force feed her just to keep her alive for god sake.” I asserted whilst rubbing my right eye with the heel of my right human hand and quietly strutting towards her door. Leaning my side against the stark beige wooden door, plopping my ear against it to silently eavesdrop, just like how I had done countless times to check on her well-being without having to barge into the door. Soft whimper gradually shifted into muffled sobs. I closed my eyes, let my head hung low as if my neck was already tired enough to brace the weight of obstacles and desperation that merge into one and let out a long exhale.

“Gotta go, Sam… I’ll call you back.” I lowered my voice into mutter and hung up.

Even though I had known Steve for so many years, sometimes I still couldn’t decipher what’s in head. Recalling back to the 40s, way before he and I even considered enlisted into the army, women would always prefer me over Steve to take me out as their dancing partner when we’re at the bar. I felt bad for him and he’d sometimes complained that if only there’s the one out there who would see him through his frail and tiny stature. Seventy three years later, he abandoned the woman who’s been through with him through thick and thin, put up with his stupid decisions and god knows what more for eight years, for Peggy.

The woman whom he knew for only two years and only dated briefly.

The woman whom he’d share his infatuation and obsession with.

The woman he met at the army who didn’t even spare him a glance…not until after he’s gone through physical changes then eventually decided to give him a chance.

I wouldn’t even consider that as official if they only exchange flirting and longing glances at the office…

bar…

and even Howard Stark’s Lab.

Clasping my hand upon the door handle, I levered it down and pushed open the door generating soft creaking from the hinge. I tiptoed my way in and left the door ajar. There she was… dressed down in only white camisole and panties while curled up in a fetal position upon the bed which was a bit too spacious now for a single person. Her back facing towards me, shoulders quivering from muffling her own sobs into whimper.

Oh Steve… what have you done…

I slowly crept my way towards her and slowly sank myself on the bed. I was hesitant to lay next to her but I tried to push that thought away considering her mental health was already at stake. If I left her untended, she might eventually spiraled into deep depression and she’s already halfway there. So I laid next to her, draped my arm over her frail, delicate and small body to hold her close as if sheltering her from her own whirlpool of emotions . While offering her the comfort of silence, my mind wander off to how on earth Wanda dealt with her own grief… poor kid not only lost her significant other but also her twin brother and parents as I was informed by Sam. My train of thought was halted when I heard her croaked a rhetorical question,

“H-h-he’s not coming back, is he? Did that prick even try second guessing his decisions?”

I wish I could do more than being her shoulder to cry on and dragging Steve back by the ear. That punk really took all the stupid with him. I contemplated whether I should say something decent to comfort and lift her spirit but I retracted. “I’m sorry, Doll… “ Were the only words I could muster from my still-healing disrupted mind. After Hydra’s infamous torturous events and being sent away to Wakanda to get my mind fixed. I found that I had difficulties of expressing my thought and feelings emotionally from the years of being over-electrocuted and memory-wiped conducted by Hydra, more strenuous than my old self. Not that I couldn’t do it but I realized it took more time to do so.

But even so I still try to rack my brain, dig deeper to find something nice to say; to make myself feel a tad better for at least doing something good in my life for once after the horrendous past, to at least counteract all those gruesome dirty work I unconsciously did to the others.

“I tried talking some sense into him, but he was very adamant of his decision. That punk…I’m really sorry…” i tried to string those words together carefully, worried that one step further or slight wrong move might set the fire ablaze even more. At this point, I was scared considering I had never connected to women emotionally. Sure I’d dated many women back in the 40s, but never considered them seriously… Now I know how it felt to wear their shoes, to know how it felt to be ditched and forgotten, even though I didn’t experience it firsthand.

Running out of options and words to say, I scooted closer whilst tightened my embrace and inhaling her scent, a hint of fresh bed linen and lavender; Steve hates it when women used too much perfume to the point it’s suffocating. I remember he’d always complained about the atrocious penetrating smell of perfume whenever we walked past the women at the bar.

“Doll… tell me what to do… I can’t bear seeing you breaking apart like this and I am running out of ways to numb your pain…” I consoled.

I used to be a good pep talker, a great one even; constantly spewing encouragement and lending a piece of advice or two to Steve. But I guess I had to shift my roles and be the good listener instead.

I did not expect her to open her heart and confide everything, as if she was confessing everything to me. I could only fervently listen to her anguish secrets that had been tormenting and keeping her awake. I felt really bad for the insecurity and self- doubt she had to endure these past years. Constant comparison with Peggy and doubting herself; nevertheless, she still fought her way to prove her worth… such strenuous and tenacious effort just to keep Steve’s attention to her…

Oh Steve… if only you’re in my position now, you’d know how much effort it took for her to keep up with your fantasy. They said love is full of sacrifices but not as much sacrifice from one side, both sides needed to make equal sacrifices to make things work, if one sacrifices too much, they’d weaken because they’re giving out too much and eventually died, just like her.

I knew Steve was always oblivious with things, but never as horrid as this. My heart sympathized and mourned for her. Eight years of relationship that she fought so hard to keep slipped out of her hands just like that.

“I-i-i-it h-h-h-urts, Buck… it hurts…He’s my first love, first kiss and…”

I felt her body shook under my embrace. No longer able to withstand her emotional suffer, I tried to soothe and lull her to sleep.

“I know, Doll. But I promise you’ll get through it, I promise to be with you every step of the way. We will get through it. I am not going anywhere. I am not going to walk out this door, not until you kick me out because you’re so sick of looking at my face. You have my word, Doll. I am staying.” I promised.

I promised myself I’d be there to pick up the pieces regardless of any circumstances, because it’s the right thing to do. I’d be there to hoist her up when no one else could. i’m doing what a good friend would do... It’s the right thing to do … Right?

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avengerscompound · 4 years

Text

Running to a Standstill - 8

Running to a Standstill: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 2083

Rating: E

Warnings: sex talk

Synopsis: While on the run from an unknown organization trying to take your son, you meet two super-soldiers. While they try to help you get to the bottom of who is hunting you and your son, feelings come out and admissions are made that make your personal life even more tricky.

Chapter 8

“We need to talk.”

Bucky’s words hang in the air, heavy and foreboding. A list of possible reasons for Bucky’s tension ran through his head. Something had happened to Geo. Or Bucky had decided he wasn’t up to babysitting anymore. Or the intel he’d gotten was some terrible bombshell like your husband never died but instead, he’d been made into some kind of super soldier and now he was trying to have you killed. It wasn’t like Steve to have quite this level of paranoia, but it also wasn’t like Bucky to want to talk.

“Can we sit?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah, of course,” Steve said. “Sit.”

Bucky sat down in the recliner, but the way he perched made it look like he was ready to run at any moment. Steve sat down on the couch and you sat next to him. Steve put his arm around you, almost protectively, like he was worried that whatever Bucky was about to say would send you into flight mode. Steve waited patiently as Bucky seemed to steel himself, running his hand through his hair and taking a few deep breaths.

“I need to… I gotta…” Bucky said and shook his head. “You both need to know that I - I don’t want to mess up what you have. I’m really happy for you both. You deserve to be happy.”

Steve furrowed his brow, now completely confused as to what Bucky wanted to talk about. Bucky let out another breath and shook his head.

“I need you both to not ask me for relationship advice anymore,” Bucky said. Steve went to say something but Bucky cut him off. “I love you, pal. And that’s the ‘why’ of it. I … I have feelings… for you… both.”

Your jaw actually dropped open and Steve felt like his heart stopped beating and then tried to escape his chest out his throat. “I’m sorry… what?”

“I just… when you both come to me, it hurts and I don’t…” he shook his head. “I know neither of you feels that way about me …”

“That’s not true,” you said, interrupting Bucky.

Bucky looked between you and Steve, blinking in shock. “What?”

Steve was in shock too. His brain had just locked up and he wasn’t sure what to do. He’d never imagined that Bucky had felt the same way about him as he felt about Bucky. He couldn’t even imagine how long Bucky might have been feeling that way. Was it new? This was really the first time Bucky had seen Steve dating, did this newly healing man see a relationship and just confuse wanting to have that, with wanting to have them? Did it go back earlier? Did the post Winter Soldier version of Bucky confuse friendship for romance? Or did the reset in time and the relearning of who he was and his place in the world mean that he had fallen for Steve recently? Did it go back to before? Did he start getting feelings for Steve once he’d seen him on the serum? God forbid it happened before that and he had been pining for Steve just as long as Steve and been pining for him.

“Bucky,” you said gently, leaning forward and touching his hand. “I know you just said both of us. And I promise, what I’m about to do isn’t dismissing that, but you and Steve really, really need to talk right now in private, so I’m just going to go to bed.” You turned to Steve and rubbed his leg. He could see your eyes glistening like you were trying very hard not to cry. He cradled your jaw and wanted to hug you or kiss you or do anything to tell you that the bombshell that had just been dropped wasn’t going to change anything. But that wasn’t true. It was going to change everything and both of you knew it. He hated the idea that he was now in this position where someone could get horrifically hurt and that he was most likely going to be the cause of that. He did love you though and he didn’t know what to do. “It’s okay,” you said softly. “It’s okay. We all might need time to think but whatever happens … you gotta go with your heart. Not your head.”

He nodded and leaned in and kissed you. You ran your hand back through his hair. The contrast between the softness of your lips and the way your nails scratched gently over his scalp made his skin prickle. You pulled back, and he chased your lips for a moment, reluctant to let the moment end. You stood, smiling sadly. “Goodnight,” you said and ran your fingers through Bucky’s hair as you passed him on your way into Geo’s room.

Bucky turned back to Steve when you left and swallowed thickly. “Steve?”

His voice came out soft and gravelly and as scared as he’d heard it in a long time. Steve took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. He feared the words he was about to say but he also yearned for them. “Buck,” he said. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.”

Bucky seemed to freeze in place. Steve wondered if he’d gotten the same brain freeze that he had suffered from a moment ago. “Really?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, Buck. Really.”

Bucky moved over to the couch, taking the spot you had just been occupying. He leaned in a little and god, how Steve wanted to bridge the difference, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Not when so much still hung in the air. He put his hand on Bucky’s chest and caressed his collarbone with his thumb. “I can’t…”

Bucky pulled back and seemed to shrink down. “Right. Right. Of course.”

Steve took Bucky’s hands and held them to his heart. “Buck,” he whispered. “I just need time. This is… a lot. I can’t just switch feelings on and off like a light. I love you, but I love her too.”

Bucky shook his head. “I get it. I didn’t expect…”

Steve laughed and leaned forward, nosing at Bucky’s cheek. The stubble from his beard that had started coming through, and it scratched the tip of Steve’s nose. “You’re telling me.” Bucky laughed quietly and leaned into Steve’s touch. “How long?”

Bucky sighed and his hands tightened in Steve’s. “Since we were kids. You were 16.”

Steve laughed and tried to imagine if things might have been different if either of them had actually admitted how they felt back then. It was hard to say because so much happened. Bucky might have still ended up falling from that train, and it still would have rent Steve’s heart in two. But they could have had some time before the world had fallen apart. They wouldn’t be in this mess right now. “Well, we’re a couple of fucking idiots aren’t we?”

Bucky huffed and nodded his head. “Yeah. We are.”

“Can I have time to figure myself out?” Steve asked.

Bucky nodded without raising his eyes. “It’s been 70 years in the making. What’s another week or so?”

“Thank you,” Steve said. Bucky gave Steve’s hands and stood.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, punk,” Bucky said.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Steve agreed as Bucky headed for the door. “Buck?”

Bucky turned back to look at him with an eyebrow raised. “Yeah?”

“I love you, Buck,” Steve said.

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, I love you too, Steve.”

As Bucky left the room, Steve got up. He had imagined Bucky telling him that he loved him so many different ways with so many different outcomes. There was no version of that happening that Steve imagined feeling as much pain as he did right now.

Steve woke the following morning with less clarity and more anxiety than he’d been feeling when he’d gone to bed alone the night before. The two of you were planning to finally add something physical last night and instead, he’d gone to bed alone for the first time in over a month. He loved you. He did. But he loved Bucky too and now he’d have to choose.

Rather than actually do the mature thing and confront his feelings and maybe talk about how he felt with you. He hurried out to the office, looked at the intel, formed a team that didn’t include Bucky, and took off to Madripoor.

“You really think going out into Madripoor like a bull in a China shop is the best idea?” Natasha asked. He was sitting in the back of the jet with her and Wanda while Clint and Sam were in the cockpit. “You know they’re basically a hive of criminals because of their no-extradition thing.”

Steve sighed. He didn’t want to admit he’d just rushed into a mission to avoid talking about feelings, but that was exactly what it was. Punching bad guys was something he could do without thinking at all. “I just want to get a lead on where this combat enhancer is coming from.”

“So, how about this,” Natasha suggested. “We send Clint in with Wanda to check out his old contacts, and the rest of us stay back in the jet unless we’re needed and you can tell me why we just took off to Madripoor with no preparation or even a plan.”

Steve conceded. If he’d really thought about it at all, he probably would have just sent Clint in with Natasha alone. Maybe with a couple of the unknown agents to go undercover and follow the leads Clint dug up. They put the jet down on the far side of the island under cloak and Clint and Wanda headed out in street clothes to find some leads.

“So, spill it,” Natasha said, stretching out on one of the medical gurneys and peeling open a protein bar. “Why are we here besides tracking down the combat enhancers?”

“Did Bucky talk to you?” Sam asked.

Sam whipped his head around to look at his friend. Of course, Bucky had needed to speak to Sam first, but to actually admit what he did, Steve was more than a little surprised. “You know?”

“Yeah,” Sam admitted. “I thought it would be good for him so he wasn't feeling so shit all the time. Didn't expect you to run off on him. That's… Pretty shitty, Steve.”

“Oooh… What is it? What happened?” Natasha said sitting up.

“Last night, after we got back from our date, Bucky told us that he had feelings for us,” Steve explained.

“Bozhe moi,” Natasha cursed. “So you don't feel the same way. He's your best friend, you don't just cut him out. I wouldn't have expected such an asshole move from you, Rogers.”

“It's not that,” Steve said, putting his hands up defensively. “The problem is I do have feelings for him. I love him. But I'm seeing someone and I love her too. I don't know what to do.”

“And he said he had feelings for you both?” Natasha asked, tilting her head to the side as she assessed him.

Steve nodded. “Yeah… it’s a mess. And I guess… I run into battle rather than dealing with emotional stuff.”

“Hey, look at you,” Sam teased. “Spouting back shit you learned in therapy.”

“I don’t see what the problem is. He likes both of you. You like both of them. Is she not into him?” Natasha asked.

“I have no idea. They seem close,” Steve said. “What are you suggesting?”

Natasha groaned and rolled her eyes. “Haven’t we already had this conversation? You’ve seen that monogamy isn’t the only way to be happy with me and Clint. Find the thing that makes the three of you happy.”

Steve furrowed his brow. Growing up while he wasn’t so ignorant to not realize when friends he had were gay or that there were people who might be married they also had someone else on the side, he’d had it drilled into him, it was man and wife. He’d been excited when he’d woken up and found out that gay marriage had been legal. Still, he’d always just pictured that ‘two people and picket fence’ life. Even with Natasha and Clint seeing each other and anyone else they thought might be interested, they still chose each other first. “Can I do that? That… I can’t actually do that, right?”

Natasha rolled her eyes again, while Sam shrugged. “How about you take a little something for yourself for a change, Cap?”

// NEXT

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #running to a standstill

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barnesthesarge · 4 years

Text

The Promise of Later

Bucky X Reader

Summary: A mission requires you to travel back in time to put a tracker on Bucky, the biggest problem is that the past one seems to like you as much as the present one.

Warnings: swearing, implied smut, angst, sadness, lil bit of fluff (:

Takes place after Endgame (:

Requests are open! Feel free to send some my way (: I have a Ko-Fi in my bio ! Thank you for reading and enjoy (((:

“Buck...” you let out a soft breath and shoved at Bucky’s chest.

Bucky’s mouth continued his open-mouthed kisses on your neck, “Hmm?”

“Babe we’re gonna be late.” You whined, grabbing a fist full of his hair when he nibbled at your ear.

“No we won’t.” He whispered and began again, starting just behind your ear.

“Bucky we will be.” His kisses halted and he sighed, “This is important, remember?”

Bucky nodded and moved you off his lap, “I know. Steve wouldn’t be calling this meeting if it wasn’t important. For an old bastard, he sure doesn’t quit.”

“We can continue this later.” You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his nose, ignoring his comment about Steve.

It was better now to ignore his thoughts about Steve, especially if you were about to go somewhere. Bucky could rant endlessly about Steve. He was always in a sour mood because of the old man. You knew it was the sadness of the knowledge that Steve left him, so you always made sure to affirm to Bucky you wouldn’t do the same.

Bucky’s eyes drifted to yours mischievously, you knew how much he loved the promise of later. Bucky was going to see it as a reward rather than anything else. A reward for dealing with Steve.

“Then by all means, let’s go.”

☆*:.｡. o.｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o.｡.:*☆

You raced upstairs with Bucky, only to enter the conference room with Sam and Steve, Steve looked at his watch and frowned.

“We were set to start ten minutes ago.” He stated.

You pulled Bucky into the seat next to you, “Sorry we’re late.”

“I can only imagine why.” He mumbled, you reached under the table and grabbed Bucky’s hand, he was tense.

“Shall we get on with it?” Sam asked, he tapped his fingers uncomfortably on the table.

“Yes, of course.” Steve paused and took a drink of water, “There’s been an incident. See, now that everyone is back, Hydra and other terrorist groups are forming back together. There was a direct attack on an Avengers building where important documents were kept. The problem is that many files were destroyed that hadn’t been digitalized for whatever reason. We lost important files about Hydra buildings that Bucky and I retrieved back in the forties. Unfortunately, neither of our words have a say, so it was suggested to me that we send Y/N back in time, put a tracker on Bucky, have her stay back until we get all the necessary information.”

“Why Y/N?” Bucky grumbled, you sensed his discomfort and knew it was because the last time someone left him for the past, they didn’t come back.

“She’s the only one that I’m sure you trust to get intimate with your past self to thus put the tracker on.” Steve replied uneasily.

“Why would she have to get intimate with him for this?” Sam piped up, you could feel anxiety building in the pit of your own stomach.

“We can’t have past-Bucky finding it.” Steve answered, “Putting it on clothes is risky, on skin is less likely to fall off, but he can’t find it or the mission is a bust. Plus, we need someone who can consistently have contact with him. I’m guessing that Y/N in a nurse’s outfit is sure to allure him. No offense but you were quite the lady’s man Buck.” Steve chuckled.

“You’re not sending Y/N back in time for this.” Bucky growled. “She could get hurt, or killed even! There’s too many what if’s. Do we really need the information that badly?”

“Yes! It has important files! And if you really don’t have faith in your girl that much—“

“Don’t I get a say?” You spoke up, you dropped Bucky’s hand. “I’m more than capable of protecting myself, and I think I could charm past-Bucky. I can do this mission.”

Steve nodded and gestured to you, “She’s in. I think it’s best you give her advice Bucky, that way she can know how to act—“

“She’s not doing this.” Bucky slammed his fist on the table and left the room.

“Buck—“

“Y/N, this is important. Hydra is starting up again. I need you to go and get this tracker on Bucky because it was also give us information on where he was kept. The files don’t state it anymore, but you and I both know where he was. We need the files just in case. You never know when the government is going to trial him again.”

“I can do this Steve, just let me talk to him.” He nodded and handed you a mission report. You left to go find Bucky.

☆*:.｡. o.｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o.｡.:*☆

You found Bucky on the roof of the compound, he was hunched over the railing looking out at the water.

“Hey.” You mumbled, you kept your hands in your pocket and waited for him to invite you over.

Bucky didn’t say anything or move for several moments, “I can’t lose you.” He finally said. “I’ve lost everything. I can’t lose you too.”

“You won’t.” You stepped over to him and ducked under his arm to put it around you, “I have to do this, for you.”

“For me?” Bucky pulled away, “This is in no way for me! You know the past me isn’t like this? You’re going to like him more!” Bucky gestured to his body, “He isn’t damaged. There’s nothing I have over him.”

“Bucky I want you. Every little bit of you, including the damaged parts. Trust me, past-Bucky can charm me as much he wants, but at the end of the day it’s you I’m coming home to, not him. I love you, you’re not going to lose me.” You moved toward him and he stepped back.

“Yes I am.” He shook his head and you saw his lip quiver, “You can say anything, but that doesn’t mean you won’t change your mind.”

You shook your head, “Bucky please don’t do this. The only person I’ve ever loved is you, it’s gonna be awful to go back and time and see a different person with the same face as you and know that I have to touch him and pretend he’s you.”

“Then don’t do it.” He stepped towards you, “decline the mission, stay here with me.”

“You know I can’t. The government can decide to put you on trial anytime now, and now we don’t have the files that prove where you’ve been the past 70 years. Let me take care of this, and then I’ll come back.”

“You don’t have to, doll. We can figure that out when we get to it.” You sighed.

“Look at my mission report with me, I need all the help I can get babe.” Bucky grimaced.

“You can’t do this.” He paused, “you wouldn’t do this to me.”

“Bucky I need to do this for you I promise once it’s over I’ll be right back by your side, and I won’t leave your side ever.” Bucky grimaced.

“I just know that you’re going to do this no matter how much I beg you not to. I don’t like this. I really don’t like this.” He sighed, “But I’m gonna help you, because I need you back, and...” Bucky stopped.

“Buck?” You stepped over to him and watched him look slowly up at you.

“If I lose you at least I can say I did my best to help you.”

☆*:.｡. o.｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o.｡.:*☆

Three days later you were standing on what you’d describe as a portal, wearing a red and white suit. Steve was busy explaining the time travel watch to you while Bucky and Sam stood off to the side.

You felt horrible. Bucky hadn’t slept in days, he hardly even spoke to you unless it was advice about the way you should act.

Your mission was relatively simple, you would enter the camp and turn in your false papers to be a nurse for only long enough to heal Bucky after he returned with the Howling Commandos. Next you would charm him and attempt to sleep with him, and hopefully plant the tracker on him somewhere he wouldn’t find it. You would then travel to the next week to get the results of his tracked locations, and then come back. You had plenty of Pym Particles, you couldn’t possibly make any mistakes.

Steve patted your shoulder, “That’s all you gotta do, are you ready?” You turned to Bucky who had his jaw clenched tightly.

“One second.” You stepped away and walked over to Bucky, “I love you, and I’ll be back soon, before you know it.” Bucky didn’t meet your eye.

He hugged you tightly, as if it would be the last time he ever did, you saw tears in his eyes. Once he let go, he walked right out of the room. Sam frowned but wrapped his arms around you.

“Be safe Y/N, don’t worry I’ll take care of him for the hour you’ll be gone.” You chuckled.

“Thanks Sam, I’ll see you soon.”

With that you stood back on the plate form and gave a thumbs up to Steve before it felt like you were falling for hours.

☆*:.｡. o.｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o.｡.:*☆

When you opened your eyes, you were in a dingy bathroom. You quickly changed out of your suit and shrunk it like you were told, hiding it in your small bag. You slipped your watch into your pocket and left the stall. Your white blouse tucked into your skirt was a little ruffled from the ride, and your tight curls were a little out of place. You took the time to adjust it before putting on more lipstick. You left the bathroom and made way to your ride to the camp, it was a lot colder than you expected.

You showed the man your papers and then he sent you a look up and down, “A nurse, huh? I got a couple areas I’d let you heal.” He chuckled, “Hop in.”

The ride was bumpy, and you hated the creepy stares of the driver. It was a bad idea to call him out according to Bucky. Men in war didn’t see a lot of ladies, they were always looking to get something. Once you finally got to the camp, you raced to where you needed to turn your papers in, and the driver had just told you it was an hour until the Commandos would be back.

You finally got to the captain, and handed him your papers, “Hello sir, I’m here to be a nurse.” He glanced for only a moment.

“Green tent in the middle.” He handed them back and you smiled again, when he didn’t even face you, you just nodded and went to the green tent.

There was three other women inside, and one man ordering them around. You went straight to the doctor and handed him your papers.

“I don’t need these, get to work.” He grumbled and you went and copied everything the other nurses were doing.

It felt like no time had passed when you heard the familiar sound of Bucky’s voice. “New girl, go bring those men in here!” The doctor ordered.

You went outside and bumped straight into the shoulder of Bucky, he caught you easily with a beam, “Sorry about that.” His eyes looked so mischievous.

“Are you hurt soldier?” You asked carefully and pulled out of his grip with an embarrassed blush.

“Sargent.” He corrected, his confidence was oozing, “And for you sugar, just maybe.” He shot you a wink while other soldiers piled into the tent. “You’re new aren’t you? I haven’t seen you before.”

“Yes I’m new, do you get injured often?” He followed you into the tent, you led him to a bed far away from the doctor and other nurses.

“Well, being part of the 107 and the Commandos is dangerous work.” Your eyebrows shot up.

“You’re part of the Commandos? Like with Captain America?” He grinned and nodded.

“I’m his right hand man, Sargent Barnes.” You blushed as he grabbed your hand to press a kiss to the back. “And you are?”

“I’m Y/N.” He quirked up and smirked.

“Y/N...that’s just the prettiest name for the prettiest dame.” You rolled your eyes playfully at him.

“What injuries do you have?” You asked carefully, he had a suave smirk on his face.

Bucky stood up and towered over you, slipping his shirt over his head. He pointed to a small stab wound below his collar bone. It didn’t need stitches but you could tell it needed to be cleaned.

“I can manage that.” You smiled at him, “Sit down Sarge.” You knew the nickname to this day still riled Bucky up.

He looked at you with a delighted smile, “Yes ma’am.” He sat down and you placed a hand on his other shoulder to keep him steady while you cleaned his wound.

“How long are you gonna be here?” He questioned when your hand moved to his chest.

“A couple days until I’m restationed.” You answered and he frowned.

“I know already that I’m going to miss you.” He plastered his smirk on again, “Not everyday an angel is right before a man.”

“You’re starting to make me sad I’ll have to leave.” You said it with a careful tone, before looking at him, and eyeing his lips.

Bucky caught you and grinned, “Why don’t we make the most of it?” His hand moved over yours.

“How about later?” You whispered suggestively, his pupils darkened instantly.

“When are you off?” He questioned, “I’ll come meet you here.”

“As soon as everyone here is taken care of.” He nodded and stood up, pulling his shirt on slowly.

“I’ll see you soon, doll.”

☆*:.｡. o.｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o.｡.:*☆

You felt surprisingly nervous to see Bucky again. He wasn’t much like your Bucky. This Bucky had seen brighter days and you could tell. You couldn’t help but think his short hair was handsome, especially with his stubble. You missed your Bucky more than anything.

You saw him stroll over, waving to a couple other men. When he laid his eyes on you, he beamed and very obviously checked you out. What he didn’t know was that you had your nursing bag with you to attempt to put the tracker on him.

“Hi Sarge.” You blinked at him innocently.

He had shaved and cleaned himself up, “Hey doll, long time no see.” You followed him through a maze of tents until you reached a secluded one. “Best tent in the whole camp.” He winked and opened the door for you.

He zipped it after you came in, you set your bag down on a little table. There was various science novels and a couple letters tucked away neatly. His cot was freshly made, and his lantern was dimmed.

“Pretty nice huh?” You looked at him with a giggle and nodded.

“It’s very homely.” Bucky moved closer and pressed his lips to yours.

“I’ve been waiting to do this all day.” He chuckled, “Your lipstick has been driving me nuts.” You kissed him back, feeling guilt rise up.

You pulled a needle out of your pocket and stuck it in his arm, biting his lip to cover. Bucky grumbled lowly before he almost fell backwards. You caught him easily and lowered him down, you then reached into your bag and got a scalpel and the tracking device.

You made short work of taking his shirt off. You turned him over on his stomach and did a small incision close to his hairline. You stuck the tiny device in and grabbed the tool Dr. Cho made to heal wounds. You shut the wound and flipped Bucky onto his back, sticking everything back into your bag.

You shook Bucky softly and luckily he didn’t wake up. You then tugged his pants off but left his underwear on, taking a small moment to study him before you’d leave. He had a carefree look on his face that you rarely saw your Bucky have. This Bucky had few scars, while your Bucky was litered with them. You knew he wasn’t as hurt as your Bucky, but he wasn’t your Bucky.

You took one last look before you slapped your watch on and time jumped a week into the future. You kept your monitor open to watch his location. Within the next several hours of sitting in the cold, Bucky’s body was finally moved to his prison for the next 70 years.

Your watch began beeping, but you began crying. It hurt so badly to leave Bucky to be tortured. You wanted to help him. Before you could even try, the watch brought you back to the present.

☆*:.｡. o.｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o.｡.:*☆

You stumbled when you came out of the portal and Sam sturdied you. “Woah woah, you’re safe.” You took the helmet off and took a couple big breaths.

Steve peaked around the controls, his white hair combed back as neatly as always, “Did you get it?”

You nodded, “I got it. Where’s Bucky?” You asked as you handed Steve your bag. “I want to see him.”

“Bucky is out by the lake, sulking.” Sam sighed, “Tin-man is too preoccupied with the idea you’re not coming back, that he didn’t even come to see you get here.”

“Thanks Sam.” You shook your head and started on the walk to the dock. You quickly took off your suit and tossed it in Tony’s dirty lab that Peter sometimes holed himself in. You hated the stupid 40’s nurse outfit but you were too tired to care about changing, all you wanted was to see Bucky and then go to bed.

You saw Bucky sitting on a bench with his elbows resting on his knees while he looked at the ground, “Buck!” You yelled, he looked up and did a quick double take.

Bucky stood up and met you halfway, dodging your attempt at a hug, “How’d it go?” He had dried tear tracks on his cheeks.

“I got everything I needed. I missed you though.” You tried to cradle his jaw but he pulled away.

“Yeah? And how was it? Me, in the past? Was I a good lay?” He grumbled and you raised your eyebrows.

“I guess we’ll both never know.” He stopped and stared at you carefully.

“You didn’t ha—“

“No.” You cut him off, “Look, all I did was kiss you to distract you, then I knocked you out.”

“Why didn’t you?-“

“Why would I? I already have you Buck.” You grabbed his metal hand and he stared at your intwined hands. “Like I said, I missed you.”

“You we’re gone for an hour, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so worried about you ever.” He pressed his forehead to yours. “I’m sorry about the way I acted.”

You shook your head, “Buck you have every right to be hurt, okay?”

He nodded at you carefully, “I love you. I hope I was a gentleman to you.”

You grinned, “Yes, you were pretty sweet. A bit of a hormonal—“

“Woah woah that’s enough doll, I’m glad I was sweet.” He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your lips softly. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, looks like your lipstick got smeared.”

“Yeah? And you know what I’m thinking about for later?” You teased and Bucky grinned and scooped you up bridal-style.

“Hopefully exactly what I am.” Bucky pressed another kiss to your lips.

☆*:.｡. o.｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o.｡.:*☆

A/N: I’m sorry if I cut this a bit short, I haven’t written in a while because I just finished my first quarter of college !! I did pretty good and I love living away from home but I haven’t had a lot of time to do much else. I’m hoping to write a lil bit more before I go back for winter quarter but who knows ? I want to try posting regularly again (: writing is one of the only things to make me feel sane lmao

Anyways I hope you all have happy holidays ! 💜Mel

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stovetuna · 4 years

Note

would you ever consider,,,,,,writing a fix it fic,,,,,,for endgame,,,,,,,pls im starved but also I love you so fuckin much your writing brings me joy

HEART EYES oh my gosh, thank you, anon. I hope this is sufficient.

full disclosure, I’m absolutely useless when it comes to the “logic” of time travel, so a lot of liberties are being taken here for the sake of story.

- - -

Moments after the bright blue light of Tony’s arc reactor goes dark, Steve knows what he has to do.

He grieves, at first. He could hardly do anything else. Hell, it’s everything he can do not to let a howl out, the one clutching at his throat right now that’s equal parts devastation and rage. He swallows the raw, unholy sound and he weeps instead, like he’s never wept before—not for Bucky, or Peggy, or the Commandos, or Natasha, or Sam, or anyone—and then he falls to his knees in the ash and mud, everything that’s left of Tony’s last act of defiance.

The words echo across the years like the worst kind of phantom pain as Steve looks and looks and looks at Tony, Tony’s corpse, Tony’s unnaturally lifeless body that doesn’t make sense to see, I think I would just cut the wire.

Always a way out.

Steve wishes he could go back in time and punch himself in the teeth, just like Tony said.

Around him, heroes kneel, silent. No one talks about what has to be done, what the world will be like without Tony Stark, how they’re supposed to go on—for the moment, everything is still, and just as the blue light of the arc reactor had flickered out moments ago (wrong wrong wrong it should be shining like a solar flare he should have lived it should be him against that rock) Steve feels something flicker to life inside his own chest. It’s faint, but glows steady. Only he can see it, feel it; only he knows what it means.

It’s a choice, an easy one, that Steve’s already made.

After the funeral, Bruce sends him back with the stones. Clipping branches takes time, but it’s hardly tedious: First he returns to Morag, walks past Quill’s prone, snoring figure, and returns the Power stone to its place in the timeline. Like something out of Indiana Jones, Steve thinks to himself as he does it, but it’s not his voice he hears. It’s Tony’s, because only Tony would see a dangerous, precarious situation like this and make a pop culture reference.

They watched that one together. Just him and Tony, early on, when things were still good. Tense, maybe—brittle, but good. Before Steve knew about Bucky, or HYDRA, or Tony’s parents; before Steve realized he did in fact know how to lie, but only when it came to Tony Stark. They’d drank good beer and talked gingerly around the subject of Steve’s adjustment to the 21st century; Steve couldn’t help but think of Tony when Indiana shot the swordsman, remembering what Tony had said on the helicarrier with startling clarity, the opposite of how he’d been thinking in the moment: I think I would just cut the wire.

Now, Steve pushes the orb back through the energy barrier, mouth pressed in a firm line. The burns will heal, in time. He has plenty of it, after all, and the pain is a cheap price compared to what he felt watching Tony die, and it’s a price he’s more than willing to pay if this works.

•

The Soul Stone is hard, not because of the climb, or the Red Skull (although, in fairness, it does throw Steve for a moment), but because he has to watch the soul stone plummet to the earth knowing it won’t bring Natasha back. There are only so many things he can fix, and this isn’t one of them.

“What’s done is done,” Schmidt says, sadder than Steve ever heard him in life. Turning around, Steve looks at the cloaked figure floating, weightless, a few inches above the ground. He doesn’t feel pity, per se, but there’s a misery to Schmidt’s expression that looks deeply carved. Earned. Painful. He looks the way Steve feels, standing there in the place where Nat died.

“What was it like?” Steve asks, meaning the moment when Schmidt held the cube and disappeared. It doesn’t even register that he’s spoken until Schmidt is looking at him and speaking back.

“Death would have been preferable,” comes the reply. Steve doesn’t have to go far to remember Tony’s slack, expressionless face, how sickeningly wrong it felt to see death in a place it didn’t belong. It would be unbearable to even imagine that moment for more than a second if Steve didn’t have an extra vial of Pym particles tucked away in his belt.

“Yeah,” Steve mutters. “I know what you mean.”

Natasha would be proud of him, the way he punches Skull clean through the side of the mountain on his way out.

Returning the Reality stone is…complicated.

Rocket and Thor had conveniently forgotten to mention how they got the stuff out of Dr. Foster—maybe Thor didn’t even know, since he’d been having a conversation with his mother at the time, according to Rocket’s later recounting of events—which means Steve is left standing over a sleeping stranger with a syringe filled with dangerous miasma with no clue what to do.

He can hear Tony in his head again, a welcome rupturing of the tension that’s making it hard for Steve to even breathe, let alone think his own thoughts: stick ‘er with the pointy end.

It’s solid advice, actually. But for a moment, all Steve can think about is how dearly he misses that voice in his ear, his head, his life, even though he’s lived less than seventy-two hours without it, but that’s seventy-two hours (plus/minus seven years and change) too long. He’s getting impatient, putting things back the way they were just to get to where he should have been all along, and he doesn’t want to waste a minute watching Dr. Foster sleep when he knows he could be spending that precious time getting back to Tony.

Life, Steve’s learned too many times in too many devastating ways, is too goddamn short. Tony didn’t hesitate, in the end, so Steve won’t either. Not now.

Holding his breath, Steve sticks Dr. Foster with the pointy end and then runs like hell.

The Sanctum Sanctorum is remarkably unscathed despite being surrounded on all sides by Chitauri carcasses and broken alien tech. Dust from the rubble and ash permeates the air so thickly it’s like trying to breathe plaster of Paris without a mask. Steve coughs as he knocks on the front door, grateful all over again to be cured of his asthma.

The person who opens the door is far from expected, but like Nat told Scott that fateful day back at the compound, nothing’s crazy anymore.

“You’re not who I was expecting,” they say, lackadaisical like they’re not surrounded by dead aliens that just fell out of the sky. Bruce and Stephen had told him the Ancient One was a bit, well, strange, but Steve certainly wasn’t expecting this much archness wrapped up in sunflower yellow.

What, did Big Bird suddenly decide to take up transcendental meditation? Tony’s voice snarks. Steve bites his tongue for a second to hold off the snort threatening to escape him. The Ancient One raises an eyebrow (or lack thereof) at him with a smirk.

“Is he close, still?”

Steve’s thoughts go silent so fast his head spins. “I’m sorry?”

The Ancient One steps forward. “I’m sure you are,” they say. It feels dangerous, standing out here on the front steps like this, but if the Ancient One doesn’t flinch at being exposed, then neither will Steve. They hold out their hand with a beatific smile.

“I won’t ask how it all went,” they whisper conspiratorially, “but do tell me one thing: is Bruce alright?”

The Time stone flashes a vivid green from the safety of its cradle of dense foam inside the carbon steel suitcase, which Steve holds out to the Ancient One like one would a box with an engagement ring inside.

“Bruce is fine,” he says. The but goes unspoken. One look at Steve and the Ancient One knew exactly what his plan was, apparently. He’s still reeling from their earlier comment. He watches the stone float up from the suitcase and drift toward the amulet resting against the Ancient One’s stomach; their hands flicker and move as it opens with a whisper of metal and gears that reminds Steve poignantly, painfully, of Tony.

There had been a couple of years there, the good ones, when he’d spent a lot of time watching Tony in his workshop, learning the ways in which Tony’s genius applied itself to the world. Everything from DUM-E to JARVIS to the suits to their comms to the reactor powering the tower to proprietary satellites to pasta carbonara, Tony’s mind was capable of it all, and then some. And it all lived inside a man who drove Steve crazy with anger and frustration and awe and lust and who gave Steve so unbelievably much without asking for anything, anything in return except Steve’s friendship and trust and instead Steve had given Tony the awful truth about his parents two years too late.

After Siberia, Steve spent most nights awake, standing on balconies and rooftops just holding the flip phone and thinking back to those earlier days with the kind of bitterly pitiful regret of the truly stupid: of course he’d been infatuated, back then. Of course he’d run away from the very thought. There’d been Pepper, obviously, and it was Tony. More to the point, it was them: Steve and Tony, oil and water, north and south, futurist and idealist, stubborn and stubborner still, always opposite in all the ways that mattered.

Of course he’d used that as an excuse. God forbid Steve Rogers ever admit to being afraid.

The Ancient One closes the amulet with a slow, gentle glide of their pale, steady hands. Tony’s were darker, bigger, stronger, more. Not capable of this kind of magic, but to Steve, Tony’s mind was magic. And his heart was made of pure light. He’d placed it in Steve’s hand. Steve never told anyone how it burned him to hold it, or that he’d prayed for the wound not to heal.

He’d cried the next morning—for their losses, yes, but mostly because he had healed. It was torture, feeling one way but appearing the opposite. It was one of the ways he and Tony had come to understand each other, over the years prior: sometimes what appears on the outside isn’t the truth of what lives on the inside.

Looking up into the Ancient One’s eyes feels like falling headfirst into time, itself.

“I would caution you against your choice,” they say, wise and mischievous at the same time, somehow, “but I know you will set things right, when the time comes.”

Steve closes the suitcase and nods. He tries not to think about Tony’s funeral. The way the first arc reactor Tony had ever built floated off on a wreath of flowers across the surface of the lake, quiet and all heart, the way Tony had been at the last.

He has to go back there, one day.

But not yet.

His past self is still lying unconscious on the glass walkway where Steve left him when he returns. Arms and legs akimbo, that charmingly ridiculous uniform stretching to compensate for the awkward splaying of limbs, Steve Rogers of 2012 looks like a child who went down for a nap, hard. In so many ways, he was a kid, back then, and yet so old. Too old, too soon.

You’re just a little unstuck, Billy, Tony had said to him once when he’d found Steve awake in the communal kitchen at 4 AM, too riled by a nightmare to go back to sleep. At Steve’s confused look, he’d smiled—kind, soft, caring—and two days later gave him a first edition signed copy of a novel by someone named Kurt Vonnegut.

Listen: Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time.

He read it cover-to-cover twice before he went looking for Tony in the workshop to thank him with a hug. One of the few they’d ever shared, and all the more precious for it.

Steve Rogers of 2023 knows this kid won’t hesitate to seize the opportunity he’s about to be presented with.

“Look alive, soldier,” he barks. Rogers coughs and splutters and springs to his feet like something stung him right on the ass. As soon as he registers Steve, his copy, standing in front of him, he falls back on his heels into a fighting stance. It’s wobbly around the knees, but Steve doesn’t bother correcting his stance. This isn’t what he’s come to do.

“Listen to me, and listen carefully,” he says, and then he tells him everything he needs to know.

Bucky is alive. You can save him.

Peggy, too. You can be with her.

The war is over. You can live without it.

You can go home. You get to have one.

Imagine it.

Rogers looks at the time-space GPS with a degree of skepticism Steve forgot that face was capable of. After talking trees and raccoons and living Norse gods and alien armies from outer space and Titans and time travel—after Tony Stark—nothing seems impossible anymore.

Finally, finally, Rogers holds out his hand, palm to heaven. Steve’s stomach tightens painfully to remove the device from his hand, but he thinks of what’s waiting for him downstairs, and letting go has never been so easy. Rogers holds it like a bomb waiting to go off, wary and fearful, but excited, too.

Then, he looks at Steve, lit up the way a child whose parent has just given them a whole dollar to spend might be.

“Are you sure?”

“More than I’ve ever been.”

Rogers’ face tightens. “What about—” he glances down through the glass. “The others? Will they know? Will they be alright?”

“I’ll handle it,” he says. He’s taking a page out of Tony’s book here, winging it where he’s used to planning. Bucky was proud when Steve told him his half-cocked idea to go back in time to be with Tony Stark, however Tony would have him.

How’re you gonna figure out being both Steves at once?

I’ll handle it.

And if they figure it out?

They’ll handle it.

Rogers is hesitating. He doesn’t want to be selfish—that’s not in his nature. Steve smiles and reaches out, cups his hands around the one with the device and closes Rogers’ fingers around it.

“It’s okay,” he says. You’re allowed to be selfish, when it’s the right thing to do.

Looking at his younger self is dizzying, like vertigo. Tony once mentioned having a huge crush on Jimmy Stewart when they watched that movie as a team, which is how Steve learned Tony Stark liked men, too. That was the night his world really turned upside-down.

Steve reaches into his belt and hands Rogers the extra vial. Enough for one trip. He’ll never get his dance with Peggy, but she’ll get hers.

Steve will just have to dance with Tony, instead. What a hardship.

He’s smiling, looking vaguely downwards where he knows Tony is, when Rogers looks at him and asks, “Why?”

Steve dials the date and time and coordinates from memory.

A week from Saturday.

The Stork Club.

Eight o’ clock, on the dot.

The past is past, except when it’s not. Rogers is unstuck, but Steve isn’t. Not anymore. He hasn’t been for a long, long time.

He shrugs. Smiles, easy, the way he couldn’t when he was Rogers’ age, fresh out of the ice and soul-broken, hopeless.

“I’m home.”

The last test is the hardest. Steve goes down to the lobby via the elevator, carrying the scepter in one hand and the suitcase containing the space stone in the other. He’s dressed in his 2012 uniform again, and he didn’t miss the way it rides up his ass, but he’s got more important things to think about.

There’s still a commotion happening in the lobby, the fallout of Tony’s self-inflicted heart attack diversion, but Steve manages to force himself away from where he knows Tony is to walk right up to Alexander Pierce. He would dearly love to drop the man right here and now in this lobby, audience be damned, but he has a part to play, yet.

Steve tamps down the urge and rage long enough to present Pierce with the last stone. The look that flickers behind Pierce’s shrewd blue eyes is telling enough—Steve could punch himself, it’s so obvious. Glee, hunger, intent, all there, malicious and toxic. HYDRA, right out there in the open.

He’ll deal with it later. With extreme prejudice.

“The cube was just a housing unit,” Steve explains, slipping back into his old by-the-book tone of voice like one slips on a pair of well-worn leather shoes. Pierce takes it with an eerie smile.

“Very good, Captain.” At Pierce’s nod, Steve straightens, looks back with a knowing smirk, and nods in return. Rumlow would have already updated him about Steve’s words in the elevator; now the rest of it—rescuing Bucky, infiltrating SHIELD, destroying HYDRA and Pierce with it—is up to Steve.

But first.

“If you’ll excuse me, sir,” Steve says deferentially, already moving away from Pierce toward the circle of black suits hovering around Tony and Thor like expectant vultures at the feast. His heart is in his throat, racing.

“Get your hands off me!”

Tony.

Thor is running interference on the suits, pushing and holding them back, Mjolnir in hand. He clears a space for Steve to walk through with a nod. Steve nods back, but his eyes are elsewhere.

Tony.

“I said let go of me, Mall Cop! I’m fine, I don’t need your help.”

Pepper always says I’m the best at taking care of others at the expense of myself, Tony had told him once. They’d been sitting on the edge of the landing pad near the top of the tower at sunset, going over what went wrong with whatever battle had happened that day. Steve had spent the entire conversation with one hand shoved under his thigh to stop himself from reaching out to hold Tony’s, who’d put himself in the line of fire—unnecessarily—and had nearly given Steve a panic attack.

A panic attack. How quaint, compared to a shattered heart.

She’s right, Steve had replied, but then Pepper’s right about everything.

Most things, Tony said. I’m still not sure if she’s right about me.

Steve still remembers the way his hand had clenched under his thigh at those words. What do you mean?

Tony had looked out over the city, not gloating or smug the way Steve had assumed he would be when they first met and Steve learned billionaires were a thing that existed—quite prevalently—in the 21st century, but wistfully, like he couldn’t believe he had the view at all.

Most days I wake up expecting her to be standing by the bed fully dressed, waiting for me to open my eyes so she can tell me it’s over, he’d said, quiet so only Steve could hear, like the whole city was listening in and Tony wanted to keep this moment between them. I don’t think she’s right about choosing me.

Steve could have painted Tony in that moment: vulnerable, eyes and skin and hair glowing like fire and honey and whiskey in the light of the setting sun as it glinted off the cityscape. He was handsome, small but strong, nervous but brave, and so unbelievably worth choosing it took every ounce of Steve’s strength to keep his hand under his thigh. To not reach out and take Tony’s face in his hands and just—

Tony, he’d said softly, urgently but without force, waiting until Tony looked him in the eye to say what he’d been holding back for years and even then it was only the tip of the tip of the iceberg: You are worth choosing.

The way Tony had stared back at Steve then is not unlike the way he looks up at him now: from the floor of the lobby of Stark Tower, roughed up and shellshocked from the battle and his brief introduction to outer space and a minor cardiac episode, but relieved and inarticulately happy to see Steve there among the suits.

“O Captain, my captain!” Tony crows, wheezing slightly on the last syllable in a way that is far too endearing for Steve to handle, especially given his own fragile state. When Tony reaches a hand up, Steve doesn’t hesitate to take it and haul him to his feet.

Tony is alive. Standing there, in front of Steve, alive. Younger, smoother around some edges and sharper in others, beautiful like a sunset and a sunrise rolled into one—an astronomical anomaly of the rarest kind. The Black Sabbath t-shirt is singed but mostly whole, and Steve wants to linger on that detail, except he can’t.

“You alright there, Cap? You’re looking a little blue around the gills…”

Blue. Blueblueblueblueblueblue.

The burning light at the center of Tony Stark is so blue, a glowing circle shining out from behind that silly threadbare band t-shirt like a beacon in the night, guiding Steve home. How is no one else marveling at this? At Tony Stark, alive?

He’s staring. At Tony’s chest. He knows he is, but there’s no helping it. Just like there’s no helping the way he reaches out and pulls Tony into a hug like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. It wasn’t long ago he’d carried this same body, suit and all, off the battlefield, crying himself hoarse even as he laid Tony out on a patch of grass in the sun away from the smoke and desolation. He’d watched this man die not seventy-two hours ago, and here was Tony, in his arms the way Steve should have held him years and years and years ago, alive.

It shouldn’t be possible. But as he’s learned ten times over, when it comes to Tony Stark, impossible is only a matter of perspective (and a little bit of elbow grease).

Steve muffles his hitching breaths against Tony’s shoulder, trying desperately to compose himself even as he falls apart. He’s failing, but can’t bring himself to care. Tony returns his embrace haltingly, like he can’t believe it’s happening, but then neither can Steve.

“It’s alright, big guy. Party’s over,” Tony chuckles into his ear, nervous, patting Steve on the shoulder from under his arm in an awkward bend. “I’m fine, I promise.“ He does the unthinkable, then, Tony: he steps back and takes Steve’s hand and lays it flat against his chest so Steve can feel the strong thud of his heartbeat and the low, steady hum of the arc reactor at the same time. “See?” Tony says with a quicksilver smile, “alive and well.”

Steve knows his eyes are wet. His hair is a mess and he’s still grieving his Tony, and that grief is a ten-ton weight in his stomach. And yet, standing here looking into this Tony’s big brown eyes, faced with that benevolent (if teasing) smile and generous heart, Steve feels young and limitless, weightless, like he’d float off the floor if it weren’t for Tony, who’s still holding his hand against his chest.

Steve knows this is selfish and reckless and his staying here could break the fabric of reality itself, but he would choose this—he’d choose Tony, warm and alive and smiling at him—every time. There are battles to be fought and truths to be told and lives to save, and he may never get to have Tony in all the ways he wants him in this or any timeline, but he’s willing to wing it and see.

Who knows—they could very well end up married.

Crazier and more impossible things have happened.

“Alive is good,” Steve says, locking a sob away behind a smile so big it strains his cheeks. “It means you can still pay for shawarma.”

Tony’s face goes slack with surprise, and then he’s laughing so hard he’s cackling, leaning into Steve’s steady hand for support. Steve can feel Tony’s laugh as much as he can hear it: it feels like home and sounds like rock music and looks like sunlight spilling out between his fingers, bright blue.

- - -

also on AO3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/22299358

#steve rogers #tony stark #stevetony #superhusbands #stony #rachel writes fic #yes I did pull the title from the most cliché death cab song out there #SHRUUUUG #endgame fix it #I'm riding this pining!steve wave for as long as possible lol #responses #prompt fic

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 5 years

Text

Haunted

Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: commission for @kilyra

Summary: Bucky and you are acquaintances, but it’s the first time going on a mission together. As soon as Bucky meets up with you, he realizes you might have the same reservations many have when they meet him. Can you look past the Winter Soldier’s history and see him for who he is? Or will the mission be a bust?

As always I do not own any characters. Do not repost my work!

The safe house was quiet as you watched the surveillance footage, focusing on the target; it was supposed to be a simple mission, in and out, but it was proving to be more dangerous. The basics was that you were to capture a Turkish informant turned rogue; he had vital information from SHIELD that in the wrong hands, could prove deadly. Natasha had gotten word that he was heading to meet a NATO (an underground terrorist group) agent to pass on the info for a hefty price. Originally it was going to be easy but as you spent the last few days tailing him, you uncovered that he had a few baddies on his side; hence why you called Steve for back up. Except, he was busy on a recon mission and couldn’t make it out in time, but he promised to send a helping hand. He didn’t say who, but you figured Sam or Rhodey would be knocking on your door soon enough. Tired of looking over the footage that showed the informant meeting with known NATO members, you closed the laptop and picked up the cell on the desk.

It rang twice before Steve picked up, asking if anything was wrong.

“No, I’m just bored,” you whined, asking him when Sam was arriving. He said Sam wasn’t coming and you frowned. “Oh, Rhodey then? Please tell me you sent Clint out, we have so much fun together.”

Steve laughed but said no. “Bucky should be arriving tonight.”

Your heart dropped and silence filled your end of the phone; you hadn’t been around Bucky much, never talked to the man except to pass along information – to be frank, he scared you a bit. And by a bit, you meant a lot – someone with that sort of reputation, it was normal to be apprehensive about spending time alone with him. It wasn’t like it was fair to feel this way towards him, he was Captain America’s longtime friend, for fucksakes, but – and that was a big but (pun intended), he was a cold stone killer. At least, he was when he was under HYDRA control and that scared you. Sure, Shuri in Wakanda “fixed” him but how sure it be? No disrespect to the young women, you knew she was the only one with the set skills to do so, but it was unsettling being around him.

“He’s not a bad guy,” Steve sighed, and you immediately tensed up.

“Not everyone is going to love your precious Bucky,” you said defensively.

“I never said you had to like him; you just have to work with him.”

“Are these my orders,” you asked, trying to dial down the heavy tone. Steve was right, you were here to do a job and if he thought Bucky was fit to help, then who are you to say otherwise. So, when he said yes, you agreed. “Fine, it’s fine. I’m sorry, Cap.”

Steve sighed again and told you not to apologize. “It’s been years now, but I get, I’m sorry I should have thought about before sending him. Bucky knows some people will always have reservations about him, it comes with his history, just – just try not to hold it against him so much.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you soon.”

The two of you said your goodbyes and hung up, but the anxiety had taken up it’s place in your chest; you were going to be alone with the Winter Soldier, a man who has killed more people than anyone you have ever known. You had experienced first-hand his brutality during the events of the HYDRA taken over of SHIELD, he had crossed your path and when you tried fighting back, he had you by the throat and with the other hand, pinned you down to a wall – his eyes were cold, lifeless, and you had never been scared in your life thinking those dark eyes would be the last thing you see. Natasha had come to your rescue, but the damage was done; you had a broken arm and deep bruises on your neck that took weeks to heal.

Closing the laptop, you got up and started making count of all your weapons; a few guns, two knives, and a stun gun, admiring the bunch, you took the latter and tucked it into the back of your jeans just as the front door opened. It had to be Bucky, no one except the team had the keys to the safe house and it sent a wave of fear down your spine. Putting on a brave face, you walked out of the bedroom you picked days earlier and down the hall, greeting Bucky in the foyer.

He looked relieved to see you, putting down his lone bag. “Hey.”

That’s all he said as he stood there in jeans and a dark hoodie, glove over his metal hand. You wanted to stun gun him and tie him up, do the damn mission alone, but orders were orders.

“Down the hall, the second door to the left is your room, the kitchen is stocked,” you said coldly, adding that you left a copy of the intel on the bed. “Steve told me he was sending help, so everything is ready for you to read over. We’ll be leaving tonight, be ready.”

Bucky didn’t say anything for a moment, as if he was confused by your stiffness but he finally nodded. “Sounds good, I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

Watching as he picked him his bag, you held your breath as he passed and flinched for a millisecond when he switched the bag to his other hand; you hoped he hadn’t seen. When you heard his footsteps fade and the bedroom door open and shut, you let out a breath.

….

Bucky walked into the room and told himself not to feel bad about the flinch; he knew what people thought of him and he wouldn’t hold it against them, but he had thought you were one of the people who understood his past. Feeling slightly miffed and embarrassed, he sat on the bed and picked up the phone to call Sam. He hated running to him with all his problems, but Sam understood more than anyone. The phone rang once before he picked up.

“What’s up, man?”

“I don’t think she was expecting me to show up.”

“Who? Y/N?”

Bucky said yes and described the cold welcome. Sam sighed and told him not to take it personal. “I mean you sort whooped her ass a few years ago, or don’t you remember?”

He remembered everything and everyone he had hurt, and maybe it was naïve of him to think people could forget; groaning, he felt terrible. “What am I supposed to do? We leave tonight to get the mark, how am I supposed to act? She flinched when I walked by her, Sam.”

“Just calm the hell down,” Sam advised. “Just let her take the lead, that’s all – you’ll live.”

With that, the pair said goodbye and Bucky picked up the file of information, preparing for the night’s mission.

….

Sam’s advice proved to be the key to working with you; letting you take the lead prove to be easy and it didn’t leave room for talking. Bucky followed orders and only asked questions when necessary, admitting that your leadership skills were far superior than his. You were outfitted in dress pants and a spiffy blouse, while Bucky donned slacks and a dark blue dress up shirt, a black glove covering his metal hand. The two of you sat in silence, pretending to look at the menu; the mark was two seats over, your point of view gave the perfect picture. Bucky eyed you before glancing down at the menu in his hand, he couldn’t help but noticed how nice you looked and if he was that same guy before the fall, he would have told you. Instead he just waited for your signal and tried to push away the memory of him breaking your arm and nearly killing you. Of course, he felt remorse and it stayed with him, in his heart, but he couldn’t change how you felt about him. But maybe he could try.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and you glanced over to him.

“Excuse me?” He said it again, but your eyes moved back to the mark, who was chit chatting with the NATO agent. You stared as the two men exchanged a paper and you realized time was running out. “Not now, Barnes. The mark is about to move, you’re going to get up and walk to the bar. Pretend you’re ordering a drink; I’m going to approach.”

“I’ll cover you,” he said, putting the menu down. You stared at him, really got a good look and tried to see past the man that nearly killed you; instead, you felt more fear for him than the two dangerous men at the table. It made you feel bad, because he was clearly trying but some wounds were skin deep and for now, you just wanted to get the guy and call it a day.

“Make sure your comm is on,” you snapped, feeling bad when Bucky’s face fell for a moment before he nodded as you got up. Feeling like an ice queen, you straightened up and started toward the table with the two men, except several steps in, the Turkish informant glanced in your direction and his face turned pale. “Shit, he recognized me, Barnes.”

“I’m headed toward the back exit; the front is blocked by too many customers; he’s not going to run, but the agent is.”

He was right, the informant held up his hands in defeat while the agent ran for it; you followed him and out of the restaurant and into the cold. You thought for a moment that you had him, but in fact, he had you; surrounded by several agents that had been lurking around for security, you fought. Fought hard and had taken down all but one; he was a brute of a man and had you by the neck up against a wall.

“Fuck you,” you grunted, hating that you were in this situation again. He laughed and choked you harder until your breaths were becoming sparse. Your eyes shut and suddenly guilt riddled your body; the way you treated Bucky and how he didn’t deserve it, because this man, whose hands were around your neck; he was the evil one. He was the one that wasn’t being controlled and was doing this to you willingly, and you saw that now. You were angry now, downright pissed as you tried to hit the man in the face, fighting for your life until the choking stopped, and the man was pulled off you. Falling to the ground, you gasped to get some air and saw through blurry eyes, Bucky beating the man to the ground until he was knocked out. You cried as the man finally succumbed to the beating, eyes shutting but Bucky couldn’t stop and this time it didn’t scare you.

Getting up, you stumbled over to him and grabbed him by his metal arm, shouting his name over the sound of his fist beating into the man’s skin. “BUCKY!”

His fist stopped instantly; it had been the first time he had ever heard you say his name and it made his body still in the cold of the night. His fist was bloody but he left it fall to his side and slowly turned to you; the memory came back to him like a storm, the image of your life slowly fading in the palm of his hand and it felt like getting hit with a ton of bricks. He saw the way your eyes glossed as he tugged hard on your hand, feeling it break under his strength and he knew that image would haunt him all his life.

“Bucky,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face as you held his arm tight. “I’m okay.”

His body relaxed under your touch, his eyes shooting down to the ground in shame. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, just as he did back in the restaurant. “I wish I could take back what I did to you.”

“You can’t,” you cried, lips quivering not in fear, but in sadness. Sadness for him and for you, for everything that had happened, wishing it would all go away. You see now, that he was just a broken man trying to fit into a new world that had nothing but judgements for him and the two of you were on the same team; everyone did things they regretted, but he never was able to control any of it. For nearly half his life he was controlled by an evil force and how could you blame him for your own fears? It wasn’t fair and you knew that now, damn, you knew that now.

“But it’s okay,” you said quietly, letting your hand slide down his arm to his hand. His knuckles brushed against yours, the metal cool against your skin. “We can start all over, we can try.”

Bucky’s face softened and his eyes were grateful, his fingers twitching against yours. Taking his hand in yours, you held it tight and shrugged. “It’s going to be okay now.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly, and you smiled, a real one this time. The two of you laughed in relief, looking around the mess that was made. “The authorities were called, that’s why it took me so long to get to you. I didn’t want to leave the mark without securing his arrest.”

“I understand, it's part of the job.”

Bucky nodded and pushed away hair from his face. “I’ll go inside and let them know the rest are out here.”

“Good idea.”

You watched with a lighter heart as he walked away until he stopped and turned back; you asked if something was wrong, but he gave his head a little shake.

“No, I just wanted to say you looked nice tonight.”

And like that, something changed, and heat rose from your toes to your head, causing you to let out a soft, shy laugh. Bucky gave a boastful smile and went inside, leaving you a little warmer than you had felt in a while. It was then that your cell rang, and you saw that it was Steve.

“Hello?”

“SHIELD was contacted by the German authorities; I assume Bucky and you worked everything out?”

Unsure if he meant the mission or the issue you had with him being your partner, you sighed. “Yeah,” you assured him as Bucky stepped back out, police in tow. His eyes meet yours with a subtle adoration and you smiled. “Yeah, Steve, everything – everything worked out just fine.”

.....

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #marvel imagine

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need-a-fugue · 4 years

Text

In the Beginning - Chapter 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Summary: He knew how to hide, how to either fit in seamlessly with his surroundings or lean back into the shadows to escape detection. He knew how to get around without money or supplies. He knew how to get any supplies he may need. He knew how to evade and how to disappear. What he didn’t know – from the moment he pulled Captain America’s body from the Potomac – was what the hell he was going to do now.

Warning(s): some angst, some emotional and mental turmoil... nothing big

A/N: This is the first story in a series I’ve been working on for awhile (Supernova), an AU wherein Bucky Barnes gets the girl, and a chance at a new life. We begin our story just after CAWS...

Twenty-two hours. It had been twenty-two hours since Steve was found on the banks of the Potomac following an anonymous phone call from a good Samaritan. He’d been unconscious the entire time, his body healing, only partially thanks to the care of the doctors and nurses on staff at United. Tessa was actually fairly certain it was in spite of them, considering they how little attention they paid to the man. Sure, the city was falling apart around them and they had an influx of trauma patients unlike anything anyone in the area had seen. So they were busy. Fine. And yeah, okay, this particular patient was pretty well equipped to heal on his own, that’s true. But really, that part they didn’t know until she arrived nearly two hours after he’d been admitted.

It was hard to believe that it hadn’t even been a full day yet. Just yesterday, she’d been taking a much needed break from her lab at Stark Industries, sitting at her desk with a Powerbar and a coffee, flipping aimless through the tv channels to pass the time while the cells she’d been working on proliferated in their petri dishes. It was pure luck that she’d been in her office when the news reports started to break. Had she been buried in the lab it would’ve been hours before she’d even realized something had happened.

She fled the tower about five seconds into the report – that was all the time she needed to glean that Steve was almost certainly involved with the strange air battle taking place in the nation’s capital. It wasn’t until she tuned into more reports in the car on the way down that she heard Captain America had actually been on the run for nearly two days and SHIELD director Nick Fury had been assassinated.

What the fuck? was the only thing on her mind for hours after that. Even once she discovered where Steve was. Even as she forced her way into the trauma center, telling everyone that she was his physician and as such demanded to see his chart. Even as she begrudgingly allowed Natasha to introduce her to this Sam guy before laying out the details of what had happened. Right up until the point that Nat had told her every single detail, in fact. For at least five of the last twenty-two hours, nothing but What. The. Fuck? rolled through her mind.

“On your left,” she overhears from her perch in the corner. Peeking over the top of her laptop where she’d been catching up on all of the work she ran out on the evening before, she sees Sam smile wide at a bleary eyed, but very much awake Steve Rogers.

After a long moment, Sam looks across the room at her. “Hey, man,” he says to Steve, “How is that you know so many gorgeous women and you’ve only even been in this century for like a week?”

Steve follows his eyes over to the corner where Tessa’s sitting, her legs curled up beneath her in an uncomfortable looking way. She raises a single assessing eyebrow at him. He smiles wide in return. “Just lucky, I guess.”

Tessa closes the laptop and slowly unfolds herself as Sam continues. “You’ve been holding out on me. And we’ve been friends for what, at least a day now?”

“Sorry,” he replies, “Sam, this is Tessa. Tessa, Sam.”

She moves closer to the bed, but nearly trips over her own left foot, which is so fast asleep that it’s gone completely numb. “Yeah,” she says, just barely catching herself on the bed’s guard rail. “We’ve been hovering over you for about 20 hours now. We’ve met.”

Steve chuckles. “Good. He tell you that he pretty much saved my life?”

Sam blushes a bit and ducks his head. “He mentioned it,” she says with a shrug. “But really, at this point, who hasn’t saved your life?”

Steve smiles briefly before giving her a strange look. “Nat?” he asks. “Is she okay?”

Sam responds with, “She’s fine. Already took off.”

“Yeah, not before sharing all of Hydra’s secrets with the world, though,” Tessa says with a huff. “Oops, I mean all of SHIELD’s secrets.” Steve’s features turn grim, his lips tightening into a straight, reproachful line. “Too soon?” she asks with a grin.

He shakes his head. “She released everything?”

“Everything.”

“Even –”

“Everything, Steve.”

The two share a look that Sam can’t quite identify and he’s struck by how well they must know each other. Tessa had told him all about being there for Steve after he came out of the ice, being his SHIELD-appointed doctor at first, but rather quickly becoming his friend as well.

They’d had several hours together with not much to do once the debrief with him and Nat had finished. So she filled him in on their story – meeting in a hospital setting after Steve had been thawed, helping him acclimate to the 21st century when it became clear no one else was going to. She’d advised him, repeatedly, not to get involved with SHIELD or any initiative designed by them. Screamed bloody murder at him for putting on the uniform again so soon after coming out of the ice and agreeing to sign on with the Avengers. After that, she’d decided that he owed her, in part for not heeding her advice and making her worry, and in part for very purposefully leaving her out of the action during the battle for New York. (How exactly she would’ve or could’ve been involved in the action, Sam couldn’t get out of her.) She made Steve introduce her to Tony Stark, which he did with extreme reluctance. And she somehow managed to get a rather coveted position in Stark Industries newly created medical research division. Steve moved to DC to lead a team of SHIELD operatives, though both he and Natasha still stayed on in some capacity with the Avengers. And now… well, now they were here.

“Romanov said she’d be back for Fury’s memorial,” Sam mentions. “It’s supposed to be this weekend.”

Steve turns to Tessa and arches a questioning eyebrow. “Yeah,” she says with a nod. “I know. Nat told me. He’ll be laying low for now.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” he says. “I know you hate the guy.”

She’s quick to correct him. “I don’t hate Fury.” She lets out a frustrated sort of huff. “Didn’t I tell you not to trust SHIELD?”

He nods solemnly. “Yeah, you did.”

“Fuck.” She glances over at Sam and sees him watching her carefully. “I always knew they were filled with megalomaniacal assholes.”

“Tess,” Steve says softly, taking her hand. She looks down at him, her anger fading. “Did Sam tell you about Bucky?”

She nods slowly. “He did.”

“And what… happened to him? Did he tell you what Hydra did?” Again, she gives a curt nod. “I have to find him.”

Sam had told her much more than just what Hydra did to Bucky Barnes. He had filled her in on what Bucky Barnes, AKA the Winter Soldier, had to done to Steve. And to Natasha. And to Sam’s car. So she wasn’t exactly optimistic about this reunion Steve was angling for. But she also understood, better than most maybe, that just because someone seems bad doesn’t mean they really are. And just because someone seems too far gone, doesn’t mean they can’t be brought back.

“Okay,” she says simply. “Let’s find him.”

She looks up at Sam and is met with a confident grin. “I’m in,” he tells them both. “As long as somebody reimburses me for my car.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x original #marvel fanfic #bucky x original female character #bucky x oc #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #avengers fanfiction #supernova

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whumppile · 5 years

Text

I’ll pray that sleep comes easy

(AN: I accidentally came up with this idea this morning when I was trying to get back to sleep and since I've finally got a day off I got to write it yay!just a little warning this does have a little bit of 'recovering alcoholic tony' so if that's going to trigger anything for you be safe and maybe skip this story? Love you all)

“Tony, you need to sleep.”

The mechanic ignored Rhodey’s very sound advice and reached for a bottle from the shelf, fingers dancing over labels until he’d found a whiskey he liked.

“What I need is a drink and some Ritalin.”

Rhodey snatched the bottle out of Tony’s hand, anger thinning his patience out faster than usual. “You promised Pepper you’d stop this.”

Tony reached for it again, sour mood worsened by being told what to do in his own lab. “She’s used to it.”

Rhodey evaded his grasp and tried again, tone lower as he held Tony’s gaze. “Peter’s not and you promised him too.”

That was a low blow but not a word of it was a lie and that's what hurt the most. Tony blew out an irritated breath as he walked away, throwing an arm out and sweeping bits of scattered projects from his workbench.

He was throwing a tantrum and he knew it but the loud clang of metal as it crashed onto the floor was cathartic and that was enough of an excuse for his guilt to let it slide.

Rhodey sighed. “He’s fine. We got him out.”

Tony rubbed a hand over his face, still turned away from his friend as he shook his head. “He should never have been there in the first place. That building should have never come down. He should never have been put through that again!”

His words turned into shouts by the end of it and he turned to face Rhodey, hands trembling as he crumbled just a little, voice softening.

“I should have saved him this time. I was right there and he had the suit but it wasn’t enough.”

He was quiet, pleading with Rhodey like he could turn back time and fix it but he couldn't.

Rhodey, having known the man long enough to know that the anger was gone and all that was left was the hurt, stepped forward and gripped Tony by his shoulders.

“You can’t protect him from everything.”

He knew that but it wouldn't stop him from trying.

“He wasn’t in there for long, Tones and you made Friday and Bruce do every scan and test they could. He’s okay.”

:::::::::

Peter was fine. I mean, the cast on his arm was annoying and he still had a headache from the concussion he’d gotten when the roof collapsed on him. But the deep cuts over his face had healed enough that he’d graduated from bandages to the bright teenage mutant ninja turtle bandaids Bruce got him.

And sure, having a building collapse on him in the middle of a mission was NOT the way he’d wanted his Friday night to go but he was okay. Really. He just wished the fear and panic from it would go away.

It was bad enough that he’d been buried under rubble but when that rubble reminded him of another collapsed building it just ramped up the anxiety. And having a panic attack through coms and begging for Tony to save him while the Avengers could all hear was just embarrassing.

Peter wasn’t sure if he was ever going to be able to look them in the eye again. And to make matters worse he’d freaked Tony out so bad the man had refused to sleep for the past three days.

The sound of his own voice cracking as he’d sobbed for Tony rang through his head again and he shook it away.

“Mr Stark, you gotta help me, please! I’m stuck! I can’t get out! I can’t breathe! Help me!”

God, he should have just shut up and waited quietly.

The other Avengers hadn’t made fun of him, not even Sam and Bucky, they had all just shouted to him over the coms, telling him they were getting him out.

Tony had sounded frantic, digging through rubble with his hands until the paint on his suit had scraped off. When he’d finally dug the teenager out he’d grabbed him in a hug and held on until Peter had finally stopped crying.

Great work Spider-man.

“I bet Black Widow never cries when she gets trapped.” He’d muttered it to himself, sulking in his room and unaware of the other Avenger in his doorway.

“No, but she does insist on being knocked out for any dentist appointment longer than a cleaning.”

Peter turned around at the voice to see Clint leaning on the door frame. Peter didn’t say anything as the archer strolled into his room and took a seat on the chair next to Peters bed.

“Look, kid, we all have trauma and shit that scares us. A kid your age shouldn’t have two building’s collapse on them in their lifetime let alone one. No one's going to look down on you because you freaked out. We would have been more worried if you hadn’t.”

Peter looked down at his sneakers and scratched idly at the bandaid on his cheek, anxiety rippling through him. “I just feel bad that I worried Mr Stark so much. I know he’s not sleeping. I heard Miss Pots talking to Dr Banner about it.”

Clint watched the droop of Peters' shoulders before nodding. There was no use lying to the kid.

“Yeah, but we’ll get him sorted. He’ll be okay.”

Peter kicked at the carpet, annoyed at himself. “Yeah but it’s my fault. I just keep screwing things up and getting in the way and-”

Clint smacked the back of his hand against Peters' shoulder, frowning at the weight the kid was putting on himself. “Hey, you didn’t screw anything up. The building collapsed while you were evacuating people from it. You got everyone out and you got yourself to the safest place you could before it came down. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Peter sniffled, wiping a hand over his nose as his eyes stung with tears he really didn’t want to fall.

“But Mr Stark-”

Clint leaned an elbow on his knee as he leaned forward, searching for Peters' eyes were they stayed glued to his shoelaces. “Peter, Tony has had a lot of people that he cared about, and that were supposed to care about him, let him down. You are not and could never be one of them. Do you know how many kids I have?”

Peter sniffed, not seeing the relevance. “Three?”

Clint nodded. “Now that makes me an expert Dad so let me let you in on a secret about the whole parent thing, okay?”

He'd never said it out loud, he'd been too afraid of losing it if he named it but Peter did see Tony as his dad and he wiped a hand over his eyes as he leaned forward, listening eagerly.

Clint looked into the teenager’s eyes and wished he didn’t see so much loss in them.

He softened his voice and let a small smile lift his features. “There is nothing in this world that we wouldn't do for our kids. Not all parents are good ones but the ones that are, like yours were, like Tony is, would give up everything just to make sure you’re okay. So, trust me when I say Tony doesn’t want you blaming yourself or feeling bad. Especially when it’s not your fault.”

Peter’s mouth tugged down at the sides and he ducked his head down like he was fighting against tears. Clint stood and took a seat next to Peter on his bed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and letting him collect himself.

It took a few minutes before Peter sniffed and blinked the tears away, taking a breath and evening out his voice enough to ask. “Hey, Mr Hawkeye? If Mr Starks my dad, what does that make you?”

Clint smiled and squeezed him tight. “Your crazy awesome uncle.”

Peter laughed, letting his shoulders shake with it in Clint's hold and he felt a little better.

That was until night came.

::::::

Tony sat at his desk and stared at the shelf of liquor he’d made Rhodey leave alone.

He should have gotten rid of them, he knew that. They were just a temptation and he wanted to stay sober for all the people that he needed to protect from his stupid drunk self but nothing else calmed his roaring anxiety like the burn of alcohol and he was weak.

It was three AM and while it was the fourth night he hadn’t slept, he didn’t plan on changing that.

Sleep led to nightmares which lead to panic attacks and he wasn’t signing up for his brains thrilling rerun of Peter trapped in that building, thank you very much.

He saw it enough during the day. God, the kid's screams and sobs through the coms had almost killed him.

But he shouldn't drink. He couldn't, he promised.

“That building on the south side’s come down.”

Deep breaths, Stark.

“Wait, where’s Peter?”

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

“I don’t- I think he’s-”

He's fine. He’s fine.

“TELL ME HE'S NOT IN THAT BUILDING!”

God, someone make it stop.

“Mr Stark, help me!”

Fuck he really was sleep deprived. That one had sounded so real.

Tony jumped up from his seat and stormed over to the line of sins on the shelf, pulling the vodka down. He hated himself the second he touched it but that didn’t stop him from reaching for the lid.

“Please! I’m trapped!”

Tony’s head snapped up, heart thundering hard in his chest because...fuck. That wasn’t a hallucination or a flashback. That was real.

He dropped the bottle, too panicked to even be aware of the shattering glass and spray of spirits across the floor as he ran.

“Friday, where’s Peter?”

The AI answered as her creator sprinted from his lab, nothing else on his mind but his need to get to his kid. Right. The Fuck. Now.

“In his bedroom, Boss.”

Shit, had someone broken in? Had something happened? Were they under attack?

Tony’s legs had never carried him faster and he barreled his way into Peter's room, ready to kill whoever he needed to keep Peter safe only to find there was no intruder. There was no alien or death squad, no dangerous threat of any kind.

Peter was asleep and having a nightmare.

The kid was tangled in sheets, crying out and thrashing as he struggled to free himself from his cotton prison.

Tony was frozen in the doorway for a second, brain trying to catch up with the fact that Peter was in fact safe. He didn’t move until one of Peters screams of terror broke into a sob.

“Da-a-ad!”

Tony didn’t need to think about what he needed to do, that word snapped something inside of him awake and he jolted forward the few meters to Peters bed.

“Peter, wake up.”

He reached for him, tearing his sheets away and gripping his arms, shaking him a little, trying to rouse him from his horror-filled dreamscape.

“Peter!”

The teenager’s sobs stuttered as his eyes snapped open and he lay frozen on the bed, hyperventilating for the second it took for his eyes to register Tony in front of him.

“You’re okay, Pete. It was just a nightmare.”

His face crumpled once he realised who it was that was gripping him and he started crying all over again, reaching for his mentor with sleep clumsy fingers.

“Mr Stark.”

Tony took a seat on the bed and pulled the kid until he was sitting up, trembling beneath his hands. He wrapped his arms around him, rocking the two of them as Peter wet his shirt with huge heaving sobs.

“I w-was back there and I couldn’t get out. I couldn’t find you.”

“You’re okay. You’re safe now, kiddo. I gotcha.”

Tony pulled in deep slow breaths as he tried to calm the residual waves of panic leftover from his scare. “Just breathe, Pete. We’re okay.”

The poor boy was shaking against his chest and while Tony felt like crying too he didn’t have time for his own meltdown. With his arms still around the sobbing teenager, because he was clever like that, he took his anxiety demon and put it in a vibranium box and sealed it. That little shit wasn't getting out until he knew Peter was okay.

He steadied himself with another deep breath and softened his voice, forcing it to be as steady and calm as it had ever been. He held Peter close and brushed a hand over the back of his head, fingers massaging the soft curls that lay at the back of the boy's neck.

“I’m right here, Petey. I’m not leaving you. You’re okay.”

Peter’s crying was quietening down, settling into small whimpers and sniffles against Tony’s chest but his back was still jumping up under his mentor's hands with each jerky gasp and Tony held tight.

He kept up the steady stream of reassurances to soothe himself as much as Peter, making sure the kid knew he wasn't going to let go until he was ready.

The room was dark and Tony found his eyes blinking slower and slower as he held the shivering boy. Peters' fingers were already curled securely into his shirt so he felt like he'd be okay to move around a bit.

He held Peter to his chest, making it clear he didn’t have to let go as he repositioned them, swinging his legs onto the mattress and leaning back against Peters headboard.

“We’re okay. You’re safe with me, Pete.”

He reached a hand down and pulled the comforter from where Peters thrashing had let it slip to the side, and pulled it over the both of them, tucking it around his ward.

Although it had been his job to make Peter feel better he found that not only had he managed to lock his anxiety away but Peters weight against his chest had silenced it completely.

The teenager was warm and safe in his arms and he let himself relax against the headboard, small puffs of air against his neck smoothing out and deepening as the kid calmed down.

Peter lifted his good wrist to his eyes and wiped the tears away, wishing he would stop hiccuping so pathetically. He should have felt more embarrassed but Mr Stark hadn’t even blinked an eye at holding him and it was the only thing making him feel better.

The comforting ramble of reassurances had quieted as his own crying had and although Mr Stark had made himself comfy there on his bed, Peter was worried that he’d pull away any second and leave him in the dark again.

He really didn’t want him to leave.

He hid his face in his mentor's shirt and scrounged up the scattered bits of courage he had left to get his voice to work.

“M-Mr Stark?”

Tony’s arms tightened against him minutely but there was no answer and Peter closed his eyes as he pushed the small words out into the air.

“Can you stay? I don’t want to be by myself.”

The room was quiet and Peter suddenly felt as if he’d dropped every bit of bravery he’d managed to find. He pulled away, sitting up as he backtracked, wiping a hand over his face.

“Forget about it. You don’t have to- I’m being stupid and-”

Of all the things that could have come out of Tony’s mouth to interrupt him he never thought it would be a snore.

He sat there on Tony’s knee, the man's arms still looped around him, and stared in amazement at the sleeping face of one Tony Stark.

He was out like a light, head leaning back, soft snores coming from his mouth and Peter smiled.

They were okay, the both of them.

Peter tugged the blanket back up his shoulders and laid back down on Tony’s chest, curling up in his arms as Tony instinctively wrapped his arms back around him.

“Night, Dad.”

And finally, for the first time in three days, the two of them slept through the night.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20010922

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13348917/1/

let me know what you think?

#tony stark #iron dad #fanfic #mine #spiderman #peter parker #whump #emotional whump #nightmares #insomnia

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hqwkeyes · 5 years

Note

Hey I loved you’re Natasha fic!! Would you maybe write one with R super worried about Nat cause she gets news that Nat’s mission went bad or something like that but with a happy ending? Angst to fluff is my favorite lol, thank you!!!

Wounded

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1,897

Warnings: injury, mentions of blood (literally one line), slight angst, fluff, Peter being cute

A/N: Hi there! Thank you so, so much to the anon who requested this! I’m so glad you enjoyed my last Nat fic (it means a lot to me!), and I hope you like this one just as much! Also, there isn’t too much angst because I didn’t want to make myself cry (I’m sorry). I hope everyone else likes this as well! Happy reading!

You received word from Steve about an hour ago and haven’t stopped pacing around the exit to the launch pad since then. They should be arriving soon, so why isn’t the medical team out here ready to meet them yet?

As if on cue, you get a message from Sam stating that they are five minutes out and that they will be bringing Nat up to the med bay themselves. You tell him that you will be waiting for them when they arrive on the quinjet.

They arrive two minutes earlier than expected, rushing Natasha out on a stretcher. Steve is swiftly yet carefully wheeling her inside as he tells you to stay downstairs while the doctors work with her and that Bucky and Sam will fill you in. Clint comes in behind them, helping Steve get her upstairs as quickly as possible.

You try to follow them, but Sam grabs you by the arm.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Cap’s orders,” he tells you, earning him a sharp glare. He and Bucky sit you down in the common room and begin telling you the details of the mission and where things went wrong.

“We were supposed to be in and out, Steve and Nat go in as a team and then split up. He got the weapons and she retrieved the stolen intelligence files,” Bucky explains.

“Clint and I were lookout and getaway, and Bucky was backup. The whole mission went well until we were all heading back to the quinjet,” Sam tells you with a solemn look on his face.

“Steve and Nat were exiting the building when I heard shouting. They must’ve heard it too because they bolted, and she damn near knocked me over in the process,” Bucky says with a light chuckle at the end.

“Anyway, the guards came outside and started shooting. I think Steve was grazed by a bullet but he wouldn’t let me check it out. It’s probably healed by now anyway.”

“Can you get to the part where Nat got hurt?” You know you should be more patient with them—less rude, too. They understand, though, and Sam picks up with the story again.

“Yeah, sorry. She was below me but then she just went down. She got back up quickly and kept going, but she was shot two more times. Apparently there were snipers on the roof, but they couldn’t have been that great because neither of them got a kill shot in.”

“So she got shot three times? The leg and where else?” Your tone is demanding.

“She’s gonna be fine, Y/N.” Sam’s voice is calm, and the hand on your shoulder brings you back to Earth for a moment.

You nod. Stand up. Pace around a bit. Then, you make a break for the elevator.

Bucky is fast on his feet, catching you at the metal doors that just began to open. He holds you against his chest, not to restrain you, but to soothe you—it is a warm embrace.

She cannot die. She cannot die. She cannot die.

You don’t even realize that you’re crying until you pull back and notice the tears staining Bucky’s shirt. You mumble an apology, but he offers you an understanding smile. You bury your face in his chest again, and he holds you there for a while. Sam joins in too, hugging you.

Not too long after you’ve settled down—to the best of your ability, at least—Clint and Steve came in. Steve’s arm was bandaged up, likely from the graze that Sam mentioned earlier.

“She just got out of surgery a few minutes ago. Dr. Cho said that everything went better than she expected it to and that Nat will be asleep for a little while,” Steve tells the whole group, but he faces you. He knows how stressed you must have been the past few hours.

You audibly sigh in relief.

“Doc said to come back in the morning. She should wake up then,” Clint adds. You engulf him in a hug, and you can feel the vibrations through his chest as he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you.

“You okay, kid?” He asks as he pulls away, and you nod.

“She’s a fighter,” you mumble, and he ruffles your hair.

“Damn right, she is. I took out the assholes who shot her while we were retreating, though.”

“Of course you did.” For the first time today, a genuine laugh escapes you.

“It’s getting late. You should get some rest, Y/N. All of you should. It’s been a rough day,” Steve says in his Captain voice, and Sam whines like a child about not wanting to go to bed yet.

You decide to take his advice, bidding everyone goodnight before getting ready for bed. Rather than sleeping in your own room, though, you fall asleep in the chair at Natasha’s bedside. You feel safer by her side anyway.

The following morning, you’re startled awake by someone shaking you. You look up to find Sam, a small grin on his face.

“I should’ve known you would come here,” he says.

“I couldn’t sleep without her.” Your statement is paired with a slight shrug. Sam’s smile widens as Natasha stirs.

“I’ll come back in a bit with the team,” he tells you, patting your shoulder before exiting the room.

“Thank you, Sam,” you call to him.

“No problem,” his voice echoes from down the hall.

You turn to see Natasha’s eyes fluttering a bit, trying to open but failing a few times before finally getting it right. She lifts an arm, shielding her eyes from the light. You immediately dim the lights in the room to better suit her eyes. She looks over at you, slightly alarmed. Once she realizes where she is and that you’re here, she visibly relaxes.

“Hi baby,” you say softly.

She tries to speak, but her voice is hoarse and her throat is scratchy. You’re quick to get her a glass of water, helping her sit up a bit to take a sip. She’s wearing that smile that she’s reserved just for you when she’s finished drinking, and you could swear it could light up the whole compound, let alone this room.

“I got shot,” is all she says, smile still plastered to her face. A breathy laugh leaves her lips, and it’s the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“I know. Sam and Bucky told me what happened on the mission.”

“Did you sleep here?” Her voice is soft, still recovering from not being used for a while.

You nod. “I couldn’t sleep without you,” you tell her bashfully. She stretches an arm out and places her hand on your knee.

“I’m glad you were here.” She takes deep breath before scooting over in her bed to make room for you. You scold her for moving too much when you notice her wince, but she dismisses it as she pats the spot beside her.

You noticed a thick bandage wrapped around her shoulder, so you deduced that she must’ve been shot there. Carefully, you climb into the bed beside her, as you don’t know where her third wound is. You decide to ask, and she points to her abdomen on the lower right side.

“You really are a mess, huh?” you joke, and she begins to laugh before she winces again, nodding slightly.

She’s softer right now, more vulnerable. She lets her walls down around you and only you. Okay, maybe around Clint, too, but not to the same degree. You love it, though; you get to see a side of her that very, very few people have the pleasure of seeing.

She’s playing with your hair when your eyes meet. A smile breaks out on each of your faces, and you lean down a bit to kiss your girlfriend. Despite all that she’s been through in the last 24 hours, her plush lips still somehow taste sweet.

A quiet “aww” pulls the two of you away from each other slowly.

Natasha’s face lights up when she sees the entire team standing there, including Peter, Scott, and Carol.

“How’re you feeling, Romanoff?” Tony asks.

“Like I’ve been shot three times,” she deadpans, and you can hear Sam snickering in the back.

Peter leaves a vase full of flowers and a Get Well Soon balloon on her bedside table.

“Oh, thanks, Pete. You didn’t have to do that for me,” Natasha tells the young boy, her cheeks dimpling as she smiles.

“Oh, it was nothing. I’m just really glad you’re okay.” She gives him a light hug, and Steve is chuckling at the fear in poor Peter’s eyes—he’s afraid of hurting her.

Everyone sits around the room and chit chats for a while, with Wanda and Carol sitting at the foot of the bed, minding Nat’s wounded leg. Clint is sitting beside Nat, holding the hand that you’re not and stroking her hair.

Dr. Cho comes in a little later to tell her that the she’s going to put her in the same chamber she used on Clint a few years back to regenerate the tissue later on in the day.

The gang all leave to get lunch, despite Peter’s wishes to stay back to hang out with Natasha and yourself. Steve wanted the two of you to have a little bit more alone time, and he promised to bring something back for the two of you.

There’s a deafening silence in the room once they’re all gone, and it gets you thinking.

“I really thought I was gonna lose you,” you confess. “I-I saw all the blood dripping from the stretcher, and the rags—Steve tried to hide them from me but I saw them. I was so worried, I almost took Bucky down to get to you.” That last part gets Nat laughing again, but this time she laughs through the pain.

“I’m right here, my love,” she whispers, and you close your eyes and relish in the sound of her voice; the voice you thought you might never hear again.

You press a feather-light kiss to her forehead.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” you mumble.

“You don’t have to. I’m right here, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere. Some amateur snipers can’t take me down for good.” Her tone is serious, her grip on your hand tightening.

“Look at me,” she tells you, tilting your chin to face her. “I’m right here. I’m okay. In fact, I’m more than okay because I have you here, and a supportive family getting us lunch.” The last part earns a laugh from you, which brings a smile to Natasha’s lips. She leans in and kisses you again, cupping your cheek with her free hand—the one on the arm that isn’t wounded.

The jingling of keys catches your attention as well as Nat’s, and you both pull away to see who’s in the room.

“Sorry, Steve forgot his keys,” Bucky mumbles awkwardly before leaving the room with a wave. The two of you wave back, giggles spilling out into the hallway for him to hear.

Natasha leans in and kisses you again. The kiss is short and sweet, followed by a peck on your nose.

“I love you,” she says, gazing into your eyes.

“I love you too, baby,” you say, grinning broadly as you gently tug her closer to you, cuddling until your food arrives.

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savvysass · 5 years

Text

Self Sacrafice is a Bitch: Chapter 1

Ao3

SO this is my first Marvel Fic! It’s gonig to be really long and a fix it fic, so hang on tight!

Comments are greatly appreciated! Give me advice on what to do and I might give you a sneak peak at the story!

Rating:Not Rated Archive Warning:Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category:Gen Fandoms:Marvel Cinematic UniverseSpider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types Relationships:Peter Parker & Tony StarkPeter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe)peter parker & all the avengersPepper Potts/Tony StarkMay Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter ParkerMichelle Jones/Peter ParkerNed Leeds & Peter Parker Characters:Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Steve Rogers, Happy Hogan, May Parker, Michelle Jones, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), Peter Quill, Wanda Maximoff, James "Bucky" Barnes, Bruce Banner, Helen Cho, Nick Fury, Flash Thompson, everyone else who i forgot, its literally everyone i swear Additional Tags:endgame fix it fic, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Whump, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Near Death Experiences, Recovery, Amputation, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, probably more than i remember Language:English Series:Part 1 of the Too Young to Die series Stats:Published:2019-09-09 Updated:2019-09-09 Words:2128 Chapters:1/? So Peter does the snap. Tony is not happy. He lives though, but barely. This is the road to recovery. Idk how often I'll update this, but for now I'm on a roll.

He feels like he’s floating.

It’s familiar, Tony thinks. The feeling of being nowhere. It’s not discomforting though. It’s as if a peaceful emptiness has taken him over, and he is simply floating in a realm of quiet existence.

He feels a warm pressure coming from somewhere, a muffled voice calling to him. It’s familiar, and he clings to it.

With great effort, he pulls himself into consciousness, Pepper’s relieved face looking down at him as he wakes up.

“Pep?” He slurs, noticing the taste of metal in his mouth. Medicine, he assumes.

“Hey Tony… You’re okay.”

He tries to sit up, and the weakness of his body brings him back to reality.

“Here take this… You find him and put that on and you hide.”

The words replay as he remembers tearing out his arc reactor and handing it to Steve, venom on his tongue.

That’s right.

Thanos.

Thanos had won.

Tony groaned as he placed his head in his hands, grief coiling around his heart like a snake.

Half the universe.

Half of existence.

His kid.

A sob works his way out of his throat.

“Tony…”

“How could this happen, Pep? How could… I was supposed to-”

“You did the best you could, Honey-”

“I lost the kid.”

Pepper takes in a breath.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“He was in my arms- begging me to save him. His last words were ‘I’m sorry’ because of course they were, right? The kid was always saying sorry over the littlest things.”

Pepper wiped a tear from his cheek. He didn’t even realize he was crying.

“They are going to Thanos. They are going to get the stones to fix this.”

Tony let the words sink in as he looked up at her.

“They will fix it, Tony. They will fix it.”

Tony simply closed his eyes and prayed they did.

“We can’t fix it, Tony.”

The words cut through him like a knife.

Steve stood before him, Natasha and Rhodey by his side. The grief in their eyes was almost tangible it was so strong, and Tony felt his last shred of hope shatter at the sight of them.

His kid, along with half the universe, was gone.

It was over.

He took a breath.

“When we lose, we really lose… don’t we Rogers?” He whispered, his voice cracking. He wanted it to sound hateful, but the sadness that had consumed him outweighed even the bitterness he felt.

“Tony-” Steve started, but Tony held his hand up to stop him.

“Pepper, get Happy. We are leaving.”

Natasha stepped forward, reaching towards him “Tony we-”

“NO!” He screamed as he slapped her hand away. She recoiled at his touch.

“I’m done.” He whispered. He looked to Pepper, a silent plea to get him away from this place echoing in his eyes.

“I’m done.”

Sorrow consumed him as everyone filed out of the room, Pepper slipping her hand into his as she rang for Happy. Soon everything became a blur.

Without being fully aware of what was going on, he felt himself being ushered into the back seat, Pepper sliding in next to him. Happy turned around, his eyes seeming dull and lifeless as he asked his usual question.

“Where to, sir?”

Tony squeezed Pepper’s hand as he turned away from the compound.

“Anywhere but here.”

…

The drone of voices hummed around him, Tony too distraught to bother to try and hear them. Suddenly Pepper’s hand ran through his hair, and he looked up to see her beautiful eyes staring back at him with both affection and heartbreak.

“We’re here, Tony.” She said softly.

Tony looked around, immediately recognizing where they were. It was a vacation home Pepper had bought. He had told her to buy a house that they could visit to get away every once in a while a few months back, and he had had it all decked out with the best technology while consulting a designer to give it that homey feel that he had always desired in a home- the exact opposite of the modern and sleek look he was used to.

He looked to Pepper in confusion.

“We can live here now.” Pepper said softly. “We can forget about saving the world and Stark Industries here. I know you are hurting, and this is a place to heal. This is a place where we can stay and be happy- Even in this reality. We can have a child, we can make a family. We can make a paradise, even in a world like this.”

Tony looked around, taking in the soft sound of running water and a breath of mountain air.

“We were lucky, Tony. We both made it out alive. Rhodey and Happy did too. I know… I know Peter didn’t, but Peter would want you to move on. He wouldn’t want you to be miserable.”

Her words sunk into Tony’s heart, a fond memory of curly brown locks and an innocent smile bringing a sense of both loss and comfort to his aching soul.

She was right.

Peter would want him to move on.

With the conviction to make a life that he could be proud of, he tucked the familiarity of the teen’s curious and excited aura into a box in the back of his mind, and he stepped forward.

5 years later

They were out of their minds.

Time travel? Really?

He watched through the window as Steve, Natasha, and that ant guy who’s name he still couldn’t remember pulled away, shaking his head.

They must have been really desperate to suggest something like that. This wasn’t an 80’s movie- This was real life, and real life meant moving on from the snap.

He spent the rest of the day shaking the feeling of discomfort that came with seeing his friends in such a pitiful state, until he was cleaning up dinner.

That was when he saw the picture.

His kid- his first kid- proudly holding an upside-down award for being a stark intern, bunny ears behind both of their heads.

The box he had stuffed Peter’s memories in burst open.

Suddenly thoughts of his kid, spontaneous and sassy, innocent and heroic, came bubbling to the front of his mind, hitting him like a freight train.

All at once, he realized with grim determination, he had to try.

For Peter, he would try anything.

...

By bedtime that night, a successful simulation was staring him in the face.

For the first time in years, he allowed himself to hope.

…

“What was it?” Pepper asked quietly, her book on composting long forgotten.

“Hmm?” Tony hummed, studying his simulation once more.

“Why did you try and do it? You seemed adamant when Steve was here that you would not attempt it. I could tell you were feeling guilty for not trying, but I wasn’t expecting you to give in so fast.”

Tony sighed.

“It was… It was Peter. I saw a picture of Peter in the kitchen. I knew- I knew I had to try… for him.”

Pepper smiled at him sadly.

“And this… this is really a chance to get him back?”

Tony ran his hand down his face, shock still vibrating in his bones as he looked at the success tag on his model.

“Yeah… We have a chance. But, Pep, Morgan… I won’t give up Morgan. I will find a way so we can have them both- Both of our kids will come out of this alive.”

Pepper stood up and wrapped her arms around his middle and kissed between his shoulder blades.

“Morgan is going to love him.”

Tony’s heart fluttered, the thought of his two kids being able to finally meet filling him with a warm and fuzzy feeling. He had told Morgan about Peter before, calling him her brother, especially on nights when he missed him so much it was physically painful. Stories of a teenage boy slinging through the city in his pjs with Iron Man by his side filled Morgan with awe on those nights, and now she had the chance to actually meet her beloved Underoos.

Yes. This was going to work.

…

Peter felt his senses come back to him all at once. He gasped for air as he shot upright, the feeling of wrongness he had felt just moments before vanishing as he gathered his bearings.

“Kid, stand up.”

Peter blinked as he looked up to the wizard, Dr. Strange he recalled, who was holding his hand out to him. He took it gratefully, pulling himself up onto his feet.

“Dr. Strange? What- What happened? Mister Stark-”

Peter’s eyes went wide as he noticed he could not find his mentor, spinning on his heels and looking wildly for him.

“Calm down, Peter. Stark is on Earth, and has been for 5 years. It’s where we are heading as well to fight Thanos.”

Peter furrowed his brows as he processed that information.

“Wait- Waitwaitwait. What do you mean he’s been home for 5 years?! He was right here! How did he- and why 5 years? When did- Has it been- What-”

“Calm down, kid.” Strange said with a stern yet comforting voice. Peter took a deep breath and listened. “Yes, it has been 5 years. We were erased from existence by Thanos, but we were brought back just now. The avengers on Earth who were not snapped are fighting a version of him from the past, trying to stop him from doing it again. Guardians, are you prepared to fight?”

Peter couldn’t hear what Starlord and the others were saying, his mind replaying the words the Wizard had spoken on repeat.

5 years.

Before he had time to worry about May, Ned, MJ, Mister Stark, Happy, and everyone else, a portal opened in front of him, showing a scorched battlefield, with Thanos and Captain Rogers at the center.

He swallowed his fear and swung towards it, removing his mask as reality sunk in.

Hundreds upon thousands of warriors stood alongside him, a battle cry from Captain Rogers surging them forward. He raced ahead, fighting as many enemies as he could, but more than anything, he wanted to get to Mister Stark. He wanted to find him so badly, to make sure he was not hurt, to tell him that he was okay.

After being on the business end of a few punches, Peter saw him engaged with some horrible alien nightmare, and he rushed forward to tear it off of him.

Tony looked up at him in shock.

An explanation of all he had experienced came rolling off of his tongue, a jumbled mess of words sprinting through his brain so fast he could barely talk. Suddenly, he was being enveloped in his mentor’s arms, a hug so tight and so relieved he couldn’t speak. The way Mister Stark held him- it reminded him of how Ben held him. To say he was surprised Mister Stark was showing him this much affection would be an understatement.

“This… This is nice,” was all he could stammer out.

Tony squeezed him tight, clapping a hand on his back as he headed back out to the fight. Peter was dazed for a second by the sudden show of affection before he remembered what he was doing.

At some point the infinity gauntlet came into his hands, and he rushed to get it to Captain Danvers. As he handed it to her though, something in his gut told him to follow it. A sense of urgency- that something bad would happen if he didn’t follow that glove.

So he did.

…

Tony looked at the wizard as he held up a single finger.

He knew what had to be done.

Regrets buzzed through his head, knowing Morgan would grow up without a father. He knew Pepper would be heartbroken. He wouldn’t see Peter and have a proper reunion after all. So many things he wanted to do, but in order to save the people he loved, he would give them all up.

Thanos snapped his fingers, confused when nothing happened. His eyes widened to see Tony with the stones in his makeshift glove.

“And I… am Iron-”

A shot of webs attacked his hand, pulling at the infinity stones. Before he could register what was happening, the stones had been ripped from his grasp…

… And were now sitting on top of gauntlet made of web on Peter’s left hand.

Tony’s heart dropped into his stomach. He felt time slow down in front of him, as if all that existed at that moment was him and his kid.

“Kid, what- what are you doing?”

Peter shot him a guilty but determined smile.

“I’m sorry, Mister Stark.”

Tony screamed his name as Peter screwed his eyes shut.

And then he snapped.

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lovemesomerafael · 4 years

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Others Like Me Chapter 14: The Tower

Chapters 1 - 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

Read It On AO3

“For what it’s worth, he’s genetically identical to our Barnes,” Bruce says. “He doesn’t scar any more than ours does, but there is evidence on the scans that he’s had some of the same injuries as our Barnes. And there’s also evidence that he’s been through something like what he describes with this Hydra.”

“Like what?” Clint asks.

“I haven’t spent much time on the arm itself, that’s Stark, but the way it’s attached? It’s a nightmare. That thing’s gotta hurt every minute. It looks like it’s been worked on, and it’s nice work. But there are some ways he’s healed that are just the best his body could do. It’s clear that it was originally attached very differently, crudely, with a lot of attention to making sure he could feel with the arm and hand, but almost no attention to the way the arm itself would feel to him.”

“Shit,” Natasha hisses.

They’re sitting around the large, oval table in the conference room, with the scans Bruce is describing hovering above the center. Tony has called this meeting to decide what the hell they’re supposed to do with Bucky. Marya is purposely not in the room, although she’s made it abundantly clear that she’s furious about that. Tony ended up having to make her nonattendance a direct order and require her to agree, in the presence of Jarvis, that she would not listen in. Now that they’d discovered her back door to the camera feed from the brig, it was the only way to ensure that she couldn’t sweet-talk or hack Jarvis into helping her again.

“It gets worse,” Bruce continues. “We all know the kinds of injuries Barnes has had. Lotta breaks, lotta organ damage, right?”

“I feel like I get stabbed more than is really fair, too,” Barnes muses.

“Well this guy, his scans make yours look pristine. Even with super healing, his body shows the marks of a hell of a life.”

“What are you saying, Banner?” Tony asks, scowling.

“I’m saying that his scans are telling the same story his mouth is. Everything physical we’ve looked at is consistent. Down to the permanent thickening of his skull where he says that ‘emptying’ machine attached. It looks just like Marya’s, only worse. Much worse.”

“I don’t think Marya needs to know that,” Natasha notes. Sam huffs disgustedly, but stays mute.

Tony lifts his chin from the hand it’s been resting on, two fingers splayed across his cheek in his characteristic ‘listening to things he doesn’t want to hear’ pose. “Anything else?”

“That’s about it.”

“Well, the arm’s interesting,” Tony says. “It’s Stark tech, for the most part, but the materials and some of the features are pure Wakanda. Shuri confirmed it. T’Challa is outraged; he wants to disembowel whoever stole Wakandan secrets.”

Natasha sighs. “T’Challa’s so hot when he talks about disembowelment.”

“You didn’t tell him about Bucky, did you?” Sam asks.

Tony answers with a glare so disdainful only Tony Stark could achieve it.

Clint is squatting on his seat, as he always does, no matter how often Sam tries to explain to him how chairs work. “What about the switch?”

All eyes turn back to Tony, who doesn’t answer for a moment. Instead, he picks up the switch from the table in front of him and looks at it thoughtfully. He’s clearly troubled.

“Tony?” Natasha prods.

“It’s a little different from Marya’s. The design, the way it works, is the same. It’s got a couple of upgrades I approve of. But it’s a little crude. Not as well-made as hers.”

Sam waves a hand toward the switch. “Which is entirely consistent with Bucky having made it himself, using Stark’s design. Just like he said. Look, I’m ready to vote. I believe the guy.”

“Just, slow your roll a minute,” Tony instructs him. “Nat? You’re the human lie detector, what do you think?”

“I got nothin’, Stark. He’s consistent, he’s got no tells… I have absolutely nothing that says he’s lying.”

“But…?” Clint rolls his eyes.

“But this Hydra he says trained him. They sound a lot like the Red Room. I’m consistent and I don’t have any tells, either.”

“Which I keep telling her, is completely circular. She can’t base not believing his story on the story itself. Either you believe it or you don’t.”

“Not true. Legends are much more effective when there’s as much truth to them as possible. This guy was trained by somebody. He’s gotta know we’d spot that. So he builds it into his legend and explains it away.”

Clint makes a disgusted sound.

“Guess we know where you stand, huh, Clint?” Sam asks hopefully.

“I don’t know. What I know is that we’re fucked here. There’s no way to prove or disprove his story, because according to Stark and Banner’s multiverse Theory, there’s a universe where this guy has all the same physical attributes, even though he’s not the Barnes from Marya’s universe. In which case-“

“He comes from right here,” Tony snaps, cutting Clint off. “He’s a spy. Somebody’s trying to infiltrate the Avengers Initiative, and they know about Marya, so they built themselves a Barnes to get to us through her.”

“He’s a genetic duplicate, Tony,” Bruce argues. “Nobody has cloning technology that can-“

Tony scoffs. “Oh, so you’re Team Bucky now?”

“I’m Team Science.”

It goes on like that for quite a while, as lines begin to be drawn between those who believe Bucky is who he says he is – Sam and Bruce – and those who don’t – Natasha and Tony. Clint wavers back and forth. When Tony mentions that, it suddenly becomes clear to everyone that Barnes has said almost nothing throughout the meeting.

“Hey, Cap, you wanna-“

“Told you not to call me that,” Barnes snarls, low and menacing.

“Sorry,” Tony says quickly. “You wanna weigh in here? You got kind of a unique perspective, I’d say.”

“Maybe,” Barnes says quietly. “But I got nothin’ to say right now. I’m listenin’ to all of you, I’m weighin’ the evidence. I’m not ready to vote.”

“This can’t go on forever, Barnes,” Natasha tells him. “He’s a prisoner.”

“Ain’t like we got him in a gulag, Nat. And he said himself he’s willing to be patient.” Barnes looks up at the faces around the table. “We gotta get this right. Because I think we all know that if we decide he’s a threat, we can’t just let him go with a stern warning.”

That silences everyone for a few moments. Some of them exchange troubled glances, others avoid eye contact. Because they all know what Barnes is saying. If Bucky’s a threat, he can’t be allowed to leave the Tower. Not with all that he knows. And their choices narrow down to two very unpleasant options.

Barnes gets up from the table.

“Where are you going?” Tony asks, annoyed.

“I hate meetings. You know that. I’m going to the gym. Think I’ll see if Bucky wants to spar.” Something in his voice, and the look he gives Tony as he says it, is vaguely threatening. Whatever he has in mind, it’s not a simple workout.

“Now, this I gotta see,” Sam smiles.

“No,” Barnes says sharply. “You don’t. Everybody stays the fuck out of the gym until I say different. And Jarvis?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“You broadcast anything from in there and I promise you, I will do shit to your hard drive that’ll make you develop emotions just so you can cry. You feel me?”

“Understood, Captain.”

*****

In the gym, Bucky is standing in front of Barnes, leaning on a rack of hand weights, watching Barnes tape his hands. He’s explained that he tapes his hands because he hates breaking his fingers, which used to happen all the time with Steve. Barnes expects it’ll be the same with Bucky, because Barnes wants a full-on match. Bucky hates broken fingers, too, but it never occurred to him to tape his hands. He considers trying it, but in the end, he doesn’t bother. He’s got other things on his mind.

They’re both uncomfortable, but for very different reasons.

Barnes isn’t at all sure it’s smart to invite a prisoner, a potential spy and a man he knows is dangerous as all hell, to beat the crap out of him if he can. He’s not even sure what he hopes to accomplish. He wonders if this isn’t the biggest mistake he’s made yet as Captain America, and wishes for about the two millionth time today that Steve was here. Steve would advise asking Tony to suit up and stand guard. Barnes is disgusted about twenty-seven ways by the fact that, if Steve were here, he would take that advice and mock Steve the whole time for being a grandma. Because it would be good advice. Barnes is in a world of hurt if Bucky goes off and he has no backup. But he can’t make himself ask Tony to do it. Shit, how much of his badass reputation is built on nothing more than bitching that he didn’t need Steve to protect him, while Steve took the heat and protected him anyway?

Bucky, for his part, is struggling to hide his internal chaos. His fight-or-flight response is so powerful right now, it’s almost painful. He can’t shake the persistent warning sparking through his entire body, screaming that this is a trap. If Barnes was Hydra, it would have been. Bucky knows full well what happens when you raise a hand to your captors. It’s all well and good to crush a minion or two on occasion; Hydra had plenty of those. Hydra brass actually thought it was kind of cute when the Asset did that. But Barnes has authority here. He is not a minion. And if Bucky takes the bait and he’s wrong… He stands glowering at the floor, deep lines etched in his face as he endures a waking nightmare as real as it was when it really happened.

“Hey!” Barnes calls, sharp and loud.

Bucky’s head jerks up and he damn near responds in Russian.

“The fuck did you go?” Barnes asks, genuinely concerned.

But Bucky’s not about to acknowledge the flashback. “I, uh… Nowhere. Tryin’ to figure out what to call you, is all. I ain’t callin’ you Jim.”

“Says the asshole who calls himself Bucky.”

Barnes’ grin is actually a little reassuring. It probably shouldn’t be – God knows Bucky could invent some unspeakable tortures if he had a mind to, which means this guy is just as twisted - but it is.

“Stick with Barnes. It’s what everyone uses, anyway.”

“Fuck you. That’s my name.”

“Listen, you got clear title to Bucky, pal. I ain’t goin’ near that.” He stands up and motions for Bucky to follow him to the middle of the huge mat covering much of the floor of the gym.

“So, this sparring, there any rules?” Bucky asks, trying like hell to seem nonchalant.

“No killing. No destroying the gym, unless you wanna listen to Stark whine. That’s about it.”

Bucky is absolutely not reassured by that, but he doesn’t get the opportunity to spool up any tighter about it, because the next thing he knows, he’s on his ass on the mat. Barnes has swept his legs out from under him and is just beginning to reach for Bucky’s throat when Bucky’s instincts take over.

Bucky expected Barnes to reach for his throat. So before he has a chance to get hold of him, Bucky flips to his feet and takes advantage of Barnes’ position to land a left uppercut that sends Barnes flying at least ten feet backward. Bucky rushes him, which Barnes somehow also expects. Stunned but spinning quickly to avoid him, Barnes gets behind Bucky and uses his momentum to throw Bucky headlong into the padded wall several feet away. In two moves, they’ve covered over thirty feet. Suddenly, the gym seems kind of small.

Bucky springs away from the wall, circling to get himself some room. Barnes circles, too, and the two grin at each other from identical defensive crouches.

“No killing, don’t bust up the gym. Those really the only two rules?” Bucky asks.

“Why, you want to add some? Make sure I don’t shame you too bad?”

“Nope,” Bucky says, grinning evilly. “Just checkin’.” He crosses the distance between them in a blur of speed and grasps Barnes, ready to yeet him into the wall across the room. But Barnes sees it coming and, instead, Bucky’s suddenly on his back with Barnes on top of him, scrambling to get control of his arms. Before he can, Bucky gets a foot under his gut and heaves Barnes six feet in the air and double that backwards. Barnes crashes into the opposite wall, and both of them spring back into their defensive stances.

The next few minutes are a dizzying kaleidoscope of punches and kicks, interspersed with balletic leaps and a steadily increasing level of trash talk. Barnes can already tell that Bucky is the best opponent he’s ever fought. And Bucky now understands that Barnes’s offer to spar had been legitimate. Neither one of them knows when they start laughing, but it’s early in the fight.

There’s a lot of punching, but less than you might think, because they’re just too good at predicting each other’s moves. Kicking’s like that, too, but at least there, they each know a few moves the other doesn’t. Both of them get some good body throws in, especially when the other tries to attack, because that, too, is predictable. The intended victim, anticipating it, can use the motion against the attacker. That quickly becomes a little frustrating. They have essentially the same moves. They have the same instincts. They see each other’s next strike coming too easily. Which is why training and technique give way, and their sparring match devolves into a street brawl.

At some point, Barnes runs Bucky into the rack of hand weights, which goes over in a very loud, very heavy crash. Something’s wrong with Bucky’s left arm after that. It’s also Barnes who throws Bucky into a wall high enough that, as he scrabbles for purchase while he’s falling, Bucky pulls the padding down with him. The custom wooden racks that hold balance balls, yoga mats, foam rolls, jump ropes, and other equipment collapse when Bucky sends Barnes flying into them, face first. That’s also how Barnes’ nose gets broken.

It’s Bucky who picks up the treadmill to use as a shield but, in his defense, Barnes was the one who threw a fifty-pound hand weight at him, and it would’ve hurt if it had hit him. They know that because it totally destroys the treadmill. They’re both responsible for the destruction of the weight bench, which was not meant for two supersoldiers to land on it simultaneously at full force, arms locked around each other’s necks. But they never do agree whose fault it is that Barnes’s metal arm goes through one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, shattering it.

So yeah, they only keep the no-killing rule. By the time Barnes gives Jarvis the all-clear to unlock the doors, Tony’s gym is in ruins. Neither of the combatants had expected every single member of the team to come pouring into the room as soon as the locks released, but that’s only because they didn’t realize that the resounding thuds and crashes of their antics could be felt four floors in either direction.

The team slows, then creeps toward them, gaping at the carnage and peering amongst the debris to determine whether either of them has survived. There’s blood in several places on the fourteen-foot high ceiling, and some of it is in the shape of bodies. There’s wind whistling through the hole in the window, and it’s swaying the few light fixtures that survived, most of which are broken, including the one with a bloody jump rope wrapped around it. The wall padding and the mat on the floor are torn beyond repair, which is fine because those bloodstains aren’t coming out, anyway. The stuffing from inside the mats is everywhere. Tony whimpers as he takes in the devastation.

Bucky’s laid out across the wreck of a machine the whole team uses to do exercises against hydraulic resistance, and Barnes is under what’s left of a rowing machine, somehow tangled up in the plastic scraps of what used to be an exercise ball. They’re both bloody and bruised, each with a few broken bones that they know about. Later, when Bruce insists on full body scans, they’ll discover Barnes also has a cracked femur. They’re sweaty and exhausted, and their identical smiles are gleeful, if bloody, as they gasp for breath.

“This is why we can’t have nice things,” Tony moans.

Both Barnes and Bucky cackle maniacally, before Bucky coughs wetly and groans.

“Bucky,” Bruce says tentatively, like he’s talking to a spooked animal. “That red under you, is that blood, or another burst exercise ball?”

Bucky groans again, before answering thickly, “Prob’ly blood. Don’t tell Barnes, but I got one of these bars through my chest.”

Bruce and Marya rush to him while Barnes begins laughing hysterically. “You got stabbed by that thing? What a pussy!”

“Yeah, you might wanna reserve judgment, there, Captain Oblivious,” Clint drawls, indicating Barnes’s leg.

Barnes looks down to see that one of the oarlocks of the rowing machine has been broken from its mounting and is embedded in the meat of his left thigh. “Dammit!” He shrieks.

Now it’s Bucky laughing hysterically.

Bruce, perhaps a little affected by the depth of Tony’s enraged despair at the state of his gym, is uncharacteristically autocratic about medical care for both Barnes and Bucky. He gives them no options, but orders the rest of the team to help him strap them both to gurneys and haul them to the medical floor.

Over time, Marya’s learned to live with her terror of anything medical, developed as a result of her time as Hydra’s expendable soldier, slave, and experimental subject. One of the ways Bruce has helped her do that is to teach her to assist him. She’s gotten to the point where she doesn’t mind providing medical care, although she still dreads and resists receiving it. When they reach the large trauma room on the medical floor, Bruce begins to bark instructions to her.

Barnes tries to object. “Not happening, Banner. Get Sam to help you. I don’t want Marya in here with him.”

Seeing Marya look to Bruce, Barnes cries, “Don’t look at him. You don’t answer to him, you answer to me.”

“Not in here, she doesn’t,” Bruce says mildly. “Marya, get an IV started, too.”

Barnes argues and threatens for a while, as Bruce and Marya ignore him. Bruce conducts scans while Marya assesses wounds and administers first aid.

“This is insubordination,” Barnes mutters grumpily as she cuts off his shorts to get to the large wound the broken oarlock has made in his thigh.

“I know, Captain,” she coos sympathetically. “You’ll feel better once the morphine starts to work.”

Bucky watches her hungrily. He’s in significant pain, but he’s long ago learned how to ignore that. He waits impatiently while she cleans and bandages Barnes’s leg, wanting her to come back and stand next to him, to touch him again. He’s drowsy from the pain medication Bruce has given him, and unaware of the goofy, dreamy smile on his face as he follows Marya with his eyes.

Barnes sees it, though, and scowls. He only relaxes when Bucky’s eyes drift closed as the morphine takes a hold of him.

“I don’t know if you are my Sergeant, but you are definitely James Barnes,” Marya scolds Bucky as she cuts his shirt from his body, jolting him back to consciousness.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Barnes asks from the other exam table.

“Nothing complimentary,” Marya mutters.

Bucky grins at her. “It’s worth it, getting my ass kicked, to get to see you.”

“So you admit I kicked your ass!” Barnes shouts.

“Shut up and quit moving,” Bruce rebukes him. “You’re blurring my scans.”

Marya’s hands are firm and sure as she begins to clean and examine the stab wound in Bucky’s chest. He likes the practiced way she goes about her work, and the adorable wrinkles between her eyebrows as she concentrates.

“I need something to call you,” she says, glancing up from her work to look into his eyes. “I will not call you Sergeant, so I suppose I’ll have to call you Bucky.”

“But you said-“

“I said that I could not call the Zimniy Soldat Bucky. But I don’t know that you are the Zimniy Soldat.”

“That makes a weird kind of sense.”

“One of us should have some. The two of you clearly don’t.”

Bucky’s grin widens and he feels a bloom of warmth in his chest that has nothing to do with the hole in his flesh and everything to do with the fondly exasperated look she’s giving him.

“This chest wound is going to take a few layers of stitching,” Marya tells Bruce over her shoulder. “I’ll get everything ready for you.”

“Don’t knock me out, though,” Bucky pleads. “If this is the only time they’ll let me see you, I want to be awake.”

“Knock him the hell out,” Barnes growls.

Unfortunately for Bucky, Bruce insists on sedating him as he repairs the stab wound. Although Bucky will heal even without it, this universe’s Bruce is just as stubborn about proper medical care as the one from Bucky’s universe. Which means his time with Marya is cut disappointingly short.

*****

Bruce requires both Barnes and Bucky to remain on the medical floor overnight. Once their injuries are treated and they’re stable, Bruce puts them both in one large room. Since there are six private rooms on the floor, everyone is perfectly aware that making them share is punishment for their reckless stupidity in injuring each other and destroying the gym. Both Barneses realize, too late, that they should have hidden the fact that it had been so much fun.

Tony backs Barnes in requiring that Marya leave the medical floor now that the regular medical staff have arrived. Bucky’s disappointed, but not surprised.

As evening falls, there’s really nothing to do while they heal except talk. The longer the groggy, intermittent conversation goes, the clearer it is to Bucky that something’s changed between them. Barnes is willing to be much more open with him than any of them have been thus far. He would attribute some of that to morphine, except that he knows how good he, himself, is at keeping his mouth shut, even when under the influence of something.

“It’s not getting better. We’re basically putting out fires,” Barnes was saying. “They call themselves the Ten Rings. Run by some shithead calls himself The Mandarin. Slippery fucker. Absolutely ruthless. Nat almost caught up with him once, but he ghosted. Haven’t gotten close since.”

“That sucks.”

Barnes’s face went hard. “Doesn’t matter. Because if it’s the last thing I do, I gotta take them down. Especially that Mandarin motherfucker.” Barnes hisses, “He’s the one who killed Steve.”

Bucky can see that Barnes’s rage is never far below the surface. “What, exactly, happened?”

“Ask someone else, man,” Barnes sighs. “I don’t wanna talk about that.”

“Yeah. I get it.”

There’s a lull then, the air thick with memories as cherished as they are excruciating. After a while, Barnes practically whispers, “We were married, anyone tell you that?”

“Fuck! No.”

“Yeah. Dumbass finally says yes, then he gets himself killed.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.”

They go quiet again, the ghost of Steve Rogers palpable between them as they both remember, and ache. It’s a therapeutic, in a way, just sitting here, grieving together the man they’ve both loved since they knew what love was. The man they both still love with a savage, tormented violence. Different though the circumstances were, they can each still fully understand the other’s grief at losing him. They’re not talkers. They don’t want, need, or even know how to speak their sorrow. But as they lie there, lost for the moment in pain, they somehow realize that in this bizarre situation, there’s also absolutely no need. To tell each other how they feel would be redundant.

An hour goes by in total silence. Barnes is the first to break it, and it’s clear his thoughts have returned to the Ten Rings threat. “Thing is, without Steve, we got even less chance than we had before, and we were already fucked. They get bolder every damn time.”

Bucky catches the thread immediately. “Yeah, I noticed there are a lot of terrorist attacks here. Lot more than in my universe.”

“Yeah?”

“By maybe a factor of ten. First thing I saw when I crash-landed here was that blown-out resort in Singapore.”

“Yeah, that was them. The Ten Rings. They wanted to disrupt Singapore’s economy.”

“Seems to have worked, if the exchange rate is any indication.”

“Oh, it worked, all right. Bastards.”

“I wish I could help you. I was jealous as hell when you guys flew off on your mission. Haven’t felt that in a while.”

“What, you lose interest in fighting? After Steve?”

“Lost interest in livin’, pal. Sorry to be so blunt.”

“Nah. Don’t apologize. If I didn’t have those morons upstairs... I wouldn’t have gotten through this last year without them. Didn’t want to. They dragged me back to life, kicking and screaming. I don’t know how you did it without them.”

There was no shred of doubt or pretense in Barnes’s voice, and he was looking at Bucky as he said it. Bucky’s eyes flew open and he turned to Barnes. “You believe me.”

Barnes frowned and hesitated before saying, “I believe that you’re another me somehow. That multiverse thing’s as good a reason as any, I guess. And Stark says it’s theoretically possible. I believe you’re telling the truth about what you’ve been through. Do I believe you’re the me that Marya knew? I don’t know. I just… I don’t know. And that’s the thing. She’s such a part of things here, I can’t take the risk that you’re not. I know what she’s capable of. I know how she feels about her Sergeant, and I also know there’s nothing she won’t do for someone she’s loyal to.”

Bucky grinned. “Not to mention how polite and respectful of authority she is, all the while she’s disobeying your direct orders behind your back.”

“And she’s so fucking sweet about it you can’t stand to discipline her.”

“Even when she tells you to your face she’d do it again.”

Barnes and Bucky shake their heads, identical fond smiles on their faces as they roll their eyes in unison.

“That’s one of the reasons Stark leads the team, you know. Some people think that role should go with the shield. I don’t. It should go to the one most capable, and Stark’s been here since the beginning. That’s the main reason, but… Not gonna lie, Marya’s another. He can say no to her, enforce consequences when she steps out of line. Me, I just …” Barnes huffs a laugh and shrugs helplessly.

And that’s when Bucky realizes that Barnes is in love with Marya.

#The Avengers #Captain America #The Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson #Clint Barton #Bruce Banner #Natasha Romanoff #Tony Stark #Sebastian Stan

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avengerscompound · 4 years

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Running to a Standstill - 7

Running to a Standstill: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 1767

Rating: E

Square filled: @star-spangled-bingo - Poly Fic

Warnings: none

Chapter 7

Bucky had a problem.

There had been a strange level of domesticity between you, he, and Steve since you'd moved in. It reminded him of when he and Steve had lived together before the war. That was problematic in of itself because Bucky couldn't remember a time when he had been more completely and hopelessly in love with Steve than when he would wake up and make pancakes while Steve sat on the fire escape smoking one of his asthma cigarettes and drinking hot water in the hopes it would settle his stomach. Bucky would pretend they were married and he was about to go out and earn a paycheck while Steve took care of the house, or that they were planning their wedding and living in sin. It didn’t even matter that two guys couldn’t get married back then, it was always what he imagined. He would stare at Steve’s lips whenever he wasn't looking, always so pink and plump, even when his anemia was at its worst and he’d imagine what it was like to taste them. What they’d feel like against his own and he’d imagine pulled that bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled back.

Now he was making pancakes for Steve, and you and a little kid and thinking how much this was like a family, and pretending like you were his wife and that was his kid. Or maybe Steve was the one he was married to because you could do that these days. It didn't just have to be a fantasy. Except for the fact he wasn't with either of you, you were with each other. You'd even started sleeping in Steve’s bed. And god, if you both didn't deserve to be happy, which was one thing Bucky definitely didn't have in common with either of you.

So that was a problem. But it wasn't the problem.

The big problem Bucky had was you both kept coming to him for advice.

Every time one of you came to him to ask some kind of relationship advice it felt like a little piece of him died. It chipped away at the hope he had that maybe one day he might get this with someone he cared about because if he cared this much about you and Steve and Geo then who else was there for him? It also made him hate himself a little because it was Steve, and Steve deserved to be happy. The guy had practically given up on a life outside of Captain America and Bucky was honestly proud of his best friend now he was taking a chance of having romance and family too. So every time one of you came to him and asked for advice he would grit his teeth and give it because it was the right thing to do. But he was jealous and he hated himself for that green-eyed monster.

Lately, the questions had been about sex and he knew from the things you each asked it hadn't happened yet but it would soon and all Bucky could think that when it did that was it. He wasn't getting that for himself. Which was maybe what he deserved.

He came out of the bedroom after putting Geo down. You and Steve had gone out again and he’d agreed to babysit. Sam was sitting on the couch eating a slice of leftover pizza.

“You’re looking pretty grumpy for a guy who just read the little prince,” Sam said, as Bucky flopped onto the couch.

“Why are you here?” Bucky asked, ignoring the dig at him.

“Forgot Steve was going out and we just got some intel back,” Sam answered, getting up and going to the fridge. “You want a beer?”

“Yeah, alright,” Bucky answered, watching Sam move around Steve’s apartment with a comfortable ease. “What was the intel?”

Sam came back over, handing Bucky the beer as he took a seat again. “There’s word of a designer drug being sold in Madripoor. Gives people temporary superpowers.”

“Shit, really?” Bucky said. “Guess we’re going to Madripoor.”

“Guess so,” Sam agreed. “It’s not exactly known for lawful activity though, so we might be just going into another dead end. I think the army lead is better. They were definitely manufacturing that shit for the army. What are you so surly for anyway? The kid give you a hard time?”

“No,” Bucky said. The way Sam didn’t pause between topics made Bucky feel like he’d been railroaded. “He’s a good kid. I kinda like babysitting.”

“Then what is it?” Sam asked.

“Nothing,” Bucky grumbled. “It’s nothin’.”

“Oh don’t give me that, Sergeant Grumpy,” Sam teased. “Something’s bothering you. Spit it out.”

Bucky sank back into the couch and rubbed his eyes with the balls of his hands. He knew he should just tell him. Sam had a tendency to bug people until they coughed up what was bothering them. Besides, maybe just saying the words out loud might make him realize how ridiculous they actually were. “Just jealous, I guess.”

“I am awesome,” Sam teased.

“Not you, you dumbass,” Bucky snarked. “This -” he waved his hands around. “Them.”

“You mean the domestic thing?” Sam asked. “Or you just want to date someone, ‘cause I could set you…”

“No. Not anyone… them,” Bucky said, the frustration he was feeling coming out through his voice.

“Her?” Sam asked.

“You’re not listening, Sam,” Bucky snapped, pulling his hair. “Both of them. This. All of it.”

Sam didn’t say anything for a while, he just stared at Bucky like he’d grown an extra head. “Wow,” he said eventually. “Do they know?”

“Fuck, I hope not,” Bucky said.

“How long?” Sam asked.

Bucky scratched his head slowly, letting his fingers drag over his scalp and tug out the knots in his hair. “Steve since we were kids. Probably started getting feelings for him when he was about fifteen, I guess.”

“And he really doesn’t know?” Sam asked.

“Either he doesn’t know or he does and he’s been pretending not to, to save me embarrassment,” Bucky said. “And fuck, Sam, if it’s the second I might as well just end it.”

“Don’t joke about shit like that, Buck,” Sam scolded. “That’s serious.”

Bucky huffed and took a long drink of his beer. “It wouldn’t be so bad, they both deserve some fucking happiness, but they keep asking me for relationship advice. You know how fucking hard it is to tell them what to do to make each other happy when all I want to do is have that myself?”

Sam nodded and took a drink of his beer. “Think you might need to talk to them, man.”

“What?” Bucky yelped. “And have them keep giving me pity looks? No thanks.”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe one of them feels the same way about you?”

“That’s worse!” Bucky groaned, letting his head fall back against the back of the recliner. “I don’t want them to break up and then be mad at me for being the cause of it. Besides, it’s fucking ridiculous. I’m a fucking monster, no one is looking at me like that.”

“Oh cut the shit, Buck,” Sam scolded. “You’re as worthy of happiness as any of us here. Maybe more given what you’ve been through. You just gotta get your head in the space where you’re ready to accept it.”

“You sound like my fuckin’ therapist,” Bucky grumbled.

“Good,” Sam said. “That means you’re listening to them.” He sat forward in the chair and looked directly at Bucky. “Tell them. Then at least they know to go talk to Nat about relationship advice. Why they’d be asking you anyway, is beyond me.”

Bucky knew he was right. Almost all the advice he’d given to both you and Steve was based around communication. Talk to each other. Tell each other how you feel. It was only reasonable to take the same advice himself. He just didn’t want to make things awkward between the three of you.

“Buck,” Sam said, and Bucky’s eyes flicked up, meeting Sam’s. “You never know. Things are changing. People are more open to different things. Maybe telling them will work out better than you think.”

Bucky looked at Sam not even sure what that meant exactly. Sam got up and patted Bucky on the shoulder. “I’m gonna head to bed. Talk to them. And don’t forget to tell Steve about Madripoor.”

“Yeah. Alright,” Bucky said. “Thanks, Sam.”

Bucky sat up with the TV on but not watching it after Sam left. He didn’t know what Sam had meant by things changing and how it might work out better, but his mind kept flicking back to Natasha telling him to let go of the idea of monogamy being the only way that people could get their happily ever after. That some people had none and some had many. Maybe… maybe Bucky could get lucky and have both of you and the family. But maybe he had to be okay with getting nothing too. It wasn’t fair to hinge his happiness on you or Steve or anyone else really. He had to heal too.

But first, he needed to talk to you and Steve about how he was feeling because he definitely wasn’t ever going to be happy if he resented the two of you for coming to him for help all the time.

He was tidying up and turning on the dishwasher when the door opened. Both your lips were puffy from kissing and you’d obviously had a few drinks. Now was a terrible time to bring up anything. It was late, and if you were tipsy you couldn’t be making relationship decisions.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve said, warmly. “How was your night?”

“Did Geo behave?” You added, coming over to him and kissing his cheek.

Bucky smiled and nodded. “Yeah, of course. We had pizza and played some games on his tablet and then I read to him and he fell right to sleep.”

“Thanks for watching him,” Steve said. “We appreciate it.”

“Sam stopped by, got a new lead,” Bucky said as he stalled for time. It was easy to tell that you and Steve wanted him to leave so you could both head to bed.

“I’ll check it out in the morning,” Steve said. “Thanks again, Bucky.”

Bucky nodded and let out a breath. “Right,” Bucky said.

Steve looked at Bucky and furrowed his brow. “What’s wrong?”

Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets. Late at night after you’d just gotten back from a date was probably not the best time to do this, but he felt like it was now or he’d chicken out and it would be never. He’d end up being the best man at the wedding. He took another deep breath and shoved his hands in his pockets. “We need to talk.”

// NEXT

#SSB2020 #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #running to a standstill

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barnes-belle · 5 years

Text

Beauty and the Barnes (12)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - Bucky X Reader

WARNINGS - Lots of Smut, Light Hints of Non/Dub-Con, Prostitution, Swearing, Dark Bucky. (I can’t stress enough that this is kinda dark, Buckys an asshole and the kind of behavior that goes on in this fic is in no way acceptable in the real world)

When your father falls deathly ill you fall into a lifestyle you would have never predicted for yourself. Selling your body as a high-class escort isn’t ideal but it’s the only way to find the money you need to help your father, until your first client offers you another way.

Bucky’s mean, coarse and gets a kick out of watching you squirm but he is willing to help your father. All you have to do is sign yourself over to The Winter Soldier, body and soul.

Trapped in The Avengers compound, serving as a PA to a man who’s an absolute beast you find yourself wondering if there’s such a thing as a happy ending?

Masterlist

Chapter Twelve

Your fingers tentatively probed at your throat, marvelling at the accelerated healing. Tony had injected something into the skin that had made the bruising fade in a matter of hours. When you woke up you looked like a horror show and now, only a few hours later you were good as new. You could still feel a slight ache, but it was manageable.

Physical trauma had been dealt with and now you were taking on the phycological side of things. The snow had continued to fall and the grounds of the compound were a pristine white. Not a drop of red in sight. You wrapped your scarf around your neck tightly and tugged your gloves on before slipping out of the door, hesitantly making your way through the snow.

“What are you doing?”

You yelped and spun around, nearly slipping on the icy ground in surprise. Bucky moved quickly, his arms grabbing your hips and keeping you upright while he looked almost apologetic about scaring you.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly, letting go of you.

“It’s alright, you just surprised me.” You said, grinning at your own clumsiness.

“My question still stands, what are you doing?” He asked, frowning at the bag in your hands.

“It’s birdseed!” You exclaimed, holding up the bag for him to study.

“Why?” He asked, utterly perplexed.

“Well with all the snow and the ground being frozen solid, the birdies can’t find food very easily so I wanted to help them out.” You explained.

“Is there anyone you’re not kind to?” He asked in awe.

“Hydra agents.” You said with a grimace.

Your quick answer drew a surprised huff of laughter from him before he looked sheepish for laughing at the obviously painful memory.

“Sorry.” He said, running his hand through his hair nervously.

“It’s not your fault.” You assured him, linking your arm through his to his astonishment.

“What are you doing?” He demanded.

“Trying to stay upright.” You said innocently.

“Oh.” He said, with a hint of disappointment.

You untied the bag of birdseed and carefully sprinkled some on top of the snow before pulling Bucky back a few feet to wait. It was only a few moments before one or two birds came to investigate, chirping happily as the pecked at your offering. You watched them happily, glancing at Bucky from time to time. He seemed strangely fascinated by the birds, watching them carefully.

“Can.. I mean, could…” He stammered, looking at the bag of seed you were holding.

You smiled and pulled his metal hand towards you, palm facing up and tipped a small pile of seed onto his hand. He closed his fist around it and looked at the birds, deciding against throwing it and scaring them. He silently crept closer and knelt down, slowly extending his hand to drop the seed on the ground when one very brave and curious birds chirped loudly and hopped across the snow to perch on his hand, eating the seed directly from Bucky’s metal appendage. Bucky made a huffing sound of surprise and looked at you helplessly.

You had to cover your mouth to stifle the laughter at the sight of the big bad Winter Soldier knelt in the snow, too afraid to move lest he scare the robin perched on his metal hand. More and more birds fluttered over, seemingly unbothered by Bucky’s presence and gratefully pecking away at the seed he was holding for them. Slowly, the tension and surprise faded and he actually smiled softly at the strange turn of events.

Your laughter dissipated into awe and admiration at the sight before you and you felt something like butterflies in your stomach. This was the Bucky who had been hidden beneath the mean and coarse, unrefined man you’d first met. The tender way he held himself was so sweet and kind, you honestly wondered how you had never seen it there before.

Bucky glanced over at you to see if you were laughing at him and his heart faltered at the way you were gazing at him. Like he was something worth gazing at and not something to recoil from. Even when you’d poured the seed into his metal hand, you hadn’t so much as shuddered at the cool metal despite it having been wrapped around your throat the day prior. You had always been so patient with him, so kind but this was different, It was almost like lo… no, he was imagining things. He turned away, determined to ignore you. Still, you’d never looked at him this way before.

“Are you seeing this?” Sam asked, peering out of the window.

“What?” Peter asked, running over, trying to push between Steve and Sam to see what they were looking at.

“Well who’d have thought?” Steve said, grinning at the sickeningly sweet sight.

“You did, you can gloat.” Sam sighed.

“What are you looking at?” Peter asked again.

“Yes, but I didn’t think they’d come together on their own. I thought they would have needed more of a push.” Steve admitted.

“What’s going on?” Tony asked, wandering over to see what the fuss was about.

Steve moved over so Tony could see.

“Aww, come on!” Peter protested.

“Well, this is new.” Tony remarked with clear amusement.

“WHAT’S NEW?” Peter demanded.

“Nothing your young, innocent eyes needs to see.” Tony joked.

“But..”

“They’re gone now.” Steve said apologetically.

“Who’s gone?” Peter asked.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Tony said, ruffling Peter’s hair obnoxiously.

When Bucky finally tore himself away from his new friends he came over and straight away offered you his arm again.

“Did you want to go inside or, maybe walk a bit?” He asked.

“We can walk.” You said, trying to hide a shiver.

“You’re cold.” He of course noticed.

“I’m ok, I have a coat on.”

“Have mine.” He insisted, shrugging it off and draping across your shoulders before you could protest.

“I don’t need it, really… what’s that?” You asked, noticing the heavy weight in the inside pocket.

“Oh, that’s your book.” He said, blushing slightly.

“You’re reading it?” You asked delightedly, pulling it out.

“Yeah. I actually liked it.” He admitted.

“Liked, you finished it?” You asked, flipping through it.

“I’m re-reading it, now I know how it ends I wanted to go back and pick up on all the bits I might have missed the first time.” He explained.

You looked up at him in surprise.

“You really did like it.” You said softly, not trying to mask the happiness in your voice.

“I did. The main character was interesting, he started out kind of unlikable. He was naive and foolhardy but I liked how he grew and changed the more he saw of the world and his friendship with the slave grew.” Bucky said eagerly.

“Yeah, he was a bit stupid at first. So consumed with how everyone else saw him and selfish really but he changed so much as it went on. I really liked how his entire perspective changed as it went on.” You agreed.

“Why did you lend me that one? How did you know I would like it?” Bucky asked.

“It’s actually one of my favourites. The author writes a lot of kind or creepy teen fiction stories I grew up with but this was the first thing of his I read that was more grown up. It still has that almost childlike wonder feel to it though.” You gushed.

“You grew up reading creepy teen fiction stories?” He laughed.

“I grew up reading just about anything and everything I could get my hands on. When I was about six I was upset because I didn’t have many friends. My grandmother gave me boxes of books she spent weeks collecting from charity shops and second hand stores and told me that ‘as long as I could read, I would always have a friend’.” You admitted.

“She sounds like an incredibly wise woman.” Bucky noted.

“She was. She really was.” You sighed wistfully, smiling at the memory of her.

“I can’t imagine anyone not wanting to be your friend.” He told you honestly.

“You didn’t want to be my friend.” You pointed out.

“I did. I do.” He whispered.

“You say that like you had a chance of refusing.” You smirked.

“How foolish of me.” He snorted.

You smiled up at him until you remembered what you’d spent the morning doing and dug through your pockets.

“Here.” You told Bucky, smiling sweetly and holding out a slip of paper.

“What’s this?” He frowned, looking over the list of numbers.

“Phone numbers for physiatrist’s who specialize in working with veterans and people with PTSD. All of them were checked over and recommended by Sam and then thoroughly checked out by Tony and Friday before Steve and I called them all personally and removed any we didn’t think you’d like. If you crumple that piece of paper up, you and I are going to have a problem.” You told him sternly.

His mature response was to snarl at you.

“I know you’re from the 40’s where people didn’t talk about the mess inside their minds but if you can bring yourself to accept colour television then you can try therapy. All you have to do is meet them, you don’t even have to talk at all until you want to, even then you can say as much or as little as you like. If they give you advice, it’s your choice as to whether or not you take it. Just pick a name, call them and go sit in an office for an hour a week. Or we can bring them here.” You pleaded.

“No.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not explaining this very well. You’re doing it. Once you meet with them it becomes your choice but you are meeting somebody.” You ordered.

“No, I’m not.” He growled.

“James Buchanan Barnes so help me god I will drag your snarling ass there myself if I have to.” You huffed.

Bucky looked confused by your attitude, like a puppy who had just been scolded for the first time. It almost broke your resolve, it was that adorable.

“No.”

Adorable or not, bionic arm or not, you were going to start throwing things at him.

“Look Bucky, you can agree to it or….” You trailed off.

“Or what?”

“Steve and Tony want me to move out of your suite, I argued them down on the agreement I would get you to see a professional.” You admitted.

“NO! They can’t take you away from me.” He said possessively.

“Then go sit on a couch and glare at a stranger for an hour. Please?” You begged.

Ideally, therapy would be something that someone would do willingly. Blackmailing him into going was a very last resort though and you weren’t lying when you’d said Steve and Tony had tried to move you into a different room. They were at the end of their ropes with him, the bruising on your throat being the final straw. If this was the only way to get him to speak to someone then so be it.

“Fine.” He huffed.

“Really? You’ll do it?” You asked hopefully.

“For you, I’ll do it for you.” He promised, slipping the paper into his pocket.

You felt bad that you’d spoiled the good mood but you’d done it with the best of intentions. You knew he needed help, he needed to be able to learn to live with the pain instead of letting it consuming him. But maybe there was a way to get him to smile again… or get yourself in trouble. Either way it was a distraction.

“What’s that?” You said, frowning at something on the ground.

“What?” He asked as you pulled your hand from his and ran over to check, bending down for a closer look.

“Belle what is it?” He demanded, following you.

Just as he approached his question was answered in the form of a face full of snow and your laughter ringing loudly in his ears. He brushed the powdery white flakes from his face in disbelief and watched with narrowed eyes as you scarpered away, running for cover. You ducked behind a tree and bit down on your lip to stifle a laugh. You nervously peeked our from behind the trunk but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Looking for me doll?” He whispered in your ear, arms ensconcing your waist to stop you escaping.

“If I beg for mercy, what are my chances?” You asked timidly.

“Slim.” He admitted, picking you and carrying you over to a large pile of snow.

“Bucky no! Please! MERCY! UNCLE! I SURRENDER!” You shrieked to no avail.

He unceremoniously dumped you into the ice cold pile of snow and chuckled at your shocked spluttering.

“Cold!” You yelped.

“It is frozen water.” He shrugged.

“I hate you.” You huffed, struggling to get up.

He laughed freely at your pathetic attempts before he finally took pity on you and helped you up. During your struggles, his coat had slipped from your shoulders and your scarf had loosened and you saw his eyes snap to your throat. His hand gently brushed your hair away from your neck and he frowned at the remarkably clear skin.

“You’re healed.” He said in wonder.

“Tony. Well, the famous Doctor Banner actually. He gave Tony something to speed up the process and honestly, it was only light bruising anyway.” You explained.

“Tony did this for you?”

“Well, I asked if there was anything he could do to speed it up.” You admitted.

The unspoken confession, that you wanted it gone so he would touch you again, was heard even though you didn’t say it out loud. He leaned in, his lips brushing over the skin in the hollow of your throat and it wasn’t the freezing cold surrounding you that had you shivering. He tenderly kissed every single centimetre of your neck, an apology in every light press of his lips and you basked in the affection. When his mouth traced your jawline you sighed dreamily, cold forgotten.

He moved up, his lips dangerously close to yours and you sighed softly. That was when your body decided to remind you of how cold you were and a painfully violent shiver rippled through you.

“You’re frozen!” He exclaimed, fixing his coat around you securely again and pulling you towards the building.

You didn’t say anything, still affected by what had just transpired. Or almost transpired. There was no denying that something had shifted in the dynamic between the two of you and where there had once been anger and attitude, there was now tenderness and… maybe joy? Whatever it was, it was new and a bit alarming.

A/N - The thing Belle's grandmother said to her was actually something my wonderful granny said to me when I was a little girl and she was right.

Sam: I don't like him. Belle: That's a shame because your family loves him. Sam: What? Belle: *Points at Bucky sat on the ground, covered in birds*

@spnqueen02 @nogardsoahk @chipilerendi @youwerespared @jessieray98@nochampagnesocialist@scarlettswxtch@dropthepizza346@jsmith509@musingpredilection@shirukitsune@dragonrosegardens@sexyvixen7@spicymagz @teh-nerdette@nerdy-bookworm-1998@australianhorrorstory @thejourneyneverendsx@mysweetcookie99 @likes-to-smell-books

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