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rosepetalsinwinter · 7 months

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Five Years That Felt Like a Millenium — Bucky Barnes

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x reader

Word count: 9,554

Summary: It’s been five years since Thanos snapped his fingers. Five years spent all alone. Now Sam is back and he has a new friend. Will Bucky be the one to uncover the secrets behind the bruises lining her body?

Warnings: illusions and mention of violence, abuse, manipulation, and cheating. Nothing explicit. Protective!bucky.

Note: It's been a while since I've posted. Here's a little slice to get you going before I continue with "Meant to Be." Hope you enjoy! 💜

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist │Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3

Happy reading!!

"Sammy!" A figure barrelled into Sam Wilson, almost making the five-foot-ten man topple over.

The girl's arms wrapped tightly around his bulky frame, hanging on for dear life. Her tears soaked his shirt, and her nails dug into his biceps almost painfully, but he said nothing. He only hugged her back with as much vigour and passion, letting his salty tears mix with hers.

Although no time had passed for Sam, years had passed for the girl—five to be exact—and he could feel all her emotions pouring out of her like a dam broken loose.

"Sammy!" she sobbed while her body shook violently. "You're back!"

"I've been back." Sam stroked a hand over the girl's hair, offering her comfort. "I've been here. Where were you?"

The first thing Sam did after he was blipped back to life was to call his sister, Sarah. Only to be told that five years had come and gone. His nephews, who were babies when he left, were now little men. The second thing Sam did was ask about Baby Girl.

He remembered when he first met her. Her family moved to the bayou when she was just five; Sam was fifteen. When her parents died, Sam's family took her in as their own, giving her the same amount of love they gave their other two kids.

So he was surprised, then, to find that Sarah hadn't heard from her in almost two years. Sam, himself, had no luck in locating her until recently. It took him eight months, but he finally found her. She had moved to New York and cut all ties with previous friends and family.

Sam wanted to ask why. Why leave Sarah and the boys? Why leave the only home she ever knew? His questions could wait, though. Now that she was here, he wouldn't ever let her go.

"Hey, Baby Girl," Sam shushed her when she sobbed louder, "I'm here. I'm not leaving again. Promise."

So fascinated by how she had aged from an awkward teen on the precipice of adulthood into a beautiful young woman, Sam did not notice the bruises lining her sides and underneath her clothes—or the circles under her eyes—from almost two years of interrupted sleep. Or the absence of light in her usually glowing irises.

When she let her entire weight fall on Sam and sobbed as she had when her parents died, he did not question it, only held on tighter and carried her towards the house.

"I've got you now, Baby Girl. Everything is gonna be just fine."

While he did not explicitly say anything, Bucky Barnes found the Wilson Family Residence quite endearing. His house in the thirties had been small, and even his current apartment in Brooklyn was compact—which he liked—but there was something so serene about the land surrounding the Wilson residence, so very peaceful.

After ninety years of constant fights, one after the other, all Bucky really wanted was some peace and quiet. And now, he could easily find it after absolving himself of most of the guilt he was carrying.

It wasn't easy, but Bucky told Yori the truth about his son's death and since then, had managed to cross a few more names off his list of amends. A weight lifted off Bucky's shoulders as everything began to make sense.

The Flag Smasher's fiasco was over with, and while the Powerbroker was still at large, there was no immediate threat. Bucky Barnes could rest for now before trouble found him again—as trouble often did. Sam had asked Bucky to stay over for the long weekend, and Bucky had happily obliged.

"It'll be good for you. Get away from that city life."

Bucky agreed. If all went well, he might end up buying his own house. He had a little... calm in Wakanda, and he missed the solidarity.

The axe was steadfast in his hands as he brought it down towards his target, and the sturdy stump was no match for the combined strength of both, the sharp tool, and Bucky's enhanced strength. In one meagre swing, half the stump broke off and landed on the ground with a muffled thump.

Bucky wiped the sweat off his brow with his right arm. It was the middle of June, and while the days were sweltering hot and sticky, the nights could get cold in comparison. Sam had tasked Bucky to get the logs for the fire, seeing as he was the most efficient.

Bucky continued with his work until he got a steady rhythm, stopping periodically to sip his still cold beer. It was then that his enhanced hearing picked up on the strangest sound. He perched the axe on his left shoulder and looked towards the house where Sam Wilson seemed to be consoling a crying girl.

"Huh." Bucky didn't find the exchange as odd as he should have. Everyone around the bayou was always coming to Sam for something. Whether it was a favour, or a shoulder to cry on. Bucky thought she must be someone special if he was hugging her like that.

When Sam took the girl into the house, Bucky shook his head and finished the last of his beer. He continued chopping more wood until the sun began to set, which is when he deposited the axe back into the shed and made his way inside to crash on the couch. Tomorrow would be a long day, what with the bonfire Sam was hosting, and all. Bucky fell to a dreamless sleep the second his head touched the pillow.

He was a light sleeper. So Bucky immediately woke up when he heard someone coming down the stairs. It took him a second to become aware of his surroundings, as it always did. He was in Louisiana, crashing on Sam's couch for the weekend.

Bucky turned his head to the left to see who it was. Probably the boys; they were early risers and loved pestering Bucky about his metal arm—not that he minded. He found their interest refreshing and loved putting a smile on their faces. He was surprised, then, to find a girl instead. The same one from yesterday.

Huh. The girl looked a mess, with only half her hair pulled back into a makeshift ponytail and black makeup smudged under her eyes. Her pants were unbuttoned, hanging precariously from her hips, and her jacket was falling off her shoulders, a few sizes too big. She was holding a pair of shoes in one hand, her phone and shirt in the other. She was also balancing a purse in the crook of her elbow.

It was the shirt that did it. Because, while the girl's own blouse was in her hands, she was wearing Sam's grey-green T-shirt. Bucky knew because that's what Sam was wearing yesterday. She was someone special then if she was wearing his clothes.

Bucky smirked. He was very aware of what the girl had been doing. He, himself, had been on both ends of the situation before. Though it was very long ago, he still remembered the embarrassment of being caught leaving a girl's room in the early hours of the morning.

The girl screamed when she saw Bucky, not expecting anyone to be up, much less lying on the couch and watching her horrible attempt at sneaking out. "Oh, God!" Her phone slipped from her grasp and landed on the floor with a loud clatter.

There was a moment of silence where the two merely stared at each other. Bucky, with poorly concealed amusement, and the girl, with mild horror. She moved first, crouching down to pick up her cracked phone.

"Does it still work?" Bucky's voice was raspy from disuse. When tears gathered in the girl's eyes as a reply, Bucky immediately sat up, dropping his amusement in exchange for concern. He knew nothing about her, but it seemed like she cried a lot.

"No," she murmured, though Bucky heard her as if she were beside him. "Oh, God. No, no, no, no, no..."

"Hey, it's alright," Bucky told her as he crouched down to pick up the purse she had thrown in her haste. He hesitated when he saw a shiny ring peeking out from one of the compartments—too fancy and expensive-looking to be something ordinary. He quickly tucked the circle back and ignored it. Had Sam proposed to her? Bucky was offended he hadn't told him. Maybe it was recent. "Is it turning on?"

"Oh God! N-no," the girl stuttered through her tears.

Bucky was convinced that this girl—who cried a lot—only knew how to say "no" and "oh, God."

"I'm sure Sam can get you a new one, no big deal. What's your name?" Bucky offered the girl his right hand, which she promptly ignored.

She shot up on unsteady legs. "I have to go."

Bucky mimicked her. "Okay?" It was turning out to be a very unusual conversation.

"I have to go," she said again, more slowly this time, as if he were a little kid who couldn't understand a word of English.

Bucky cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting on his legs before giving the girl her purse back. "Right."

The tally was now up to "no," "oh, God," and "I have to go." At least she wasn't crying anymore. Bucky hastily stepped out of the girl's way when he realized he was blocking the hall that led to the front door.

She moved as if someone lit a fire under her. One second, she was there, and the next, she was out the door with her pants still unbuttoned, her jacket still falling off her shoulder, and her shoes still in her hand.

"Nice to meet you..." Bucky dropped his hand and trailed off when he realized she couldn't hear him anymore.

Huh. Either Bucky still didn't know how to talk to people, or that girl was on something. A lot of youngsters nowadays did drugs for fun. Bucky didn't understand it, nor did he want to. He could just ask Sam about it later.

Bucky stretched his arms above his head and cracked his neck. A couch was considerably comfier than the floor but still gave him a stiff back. No matter, a quick run could swiftly solve that problem. Bucky turned on the coffee machine and was biting into an apple when a shirtless Sam came barreling down the stairs.

"You sleep good, man?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Bucky shrugged, wiping some juice from his chin, "I slept good. Well, as good as I can, considering..."

Sam hummed before opening the fridge and taking a swig of the orange juice. "Nightmare?"

Bucky shook his head. "I don't remember it—Listen, you didn't tell me you had a girl up there."

"A girl?"

"Messy hair, pretty face. Was crying yesterday?"

"Baby Girl? You saw that?" Sam stopped peeling the banana in his hand to look at Bucky.

Bucky merely shrugged and grabbed a mug from the cupboard.

"Sorry I didn't tell you she was over," said Sam, taking a bite of his now-peeled banana. "We were up talking real late. I guess I forgot."

"Yup. Talking," Bucky muttered with a smirk as he poured his coffee. "I bet."

"What?" Sam implored.

"Uh, nothing. Just, the girl seemed nice."

"She is nice," Sam retorted. "You met her?"

Bucky nodded and took a sip of his coffee. Black, just as he preferred it.

"Didn't think she'd be awake," Sam said with a yawn. "She barely slept."

Bucky had to try really hard to keep himself from laughing. "Well, she was."

"She was?" Sam asked suspiciously. "What do you mean she was? Did she go back to bed?"

Bucky shook his head. "She left."

"She left?" Sam scoffed, propping a hand on his hip. He had never looked more like Steve.

"That's what I said," Bucky confirmed, taking another sip. "She's gone."

"Gone?" Sam grumbled. "Bucky, what the hell are you talking about?"

Sam's accusing behaviour was really starting to irk Bucky, making him think the girl's sneaking out was not mutual. Shit.

He laughed uncomfortably and put his mug down on the counter. "Your girl came running down the stairs, half-dressed. She dropped her phone, cracked it, didn't let me help. Then she said she 'had to go' and practically ran out of here, I dunno."

"When?" A vein popped in Sam's forehead as he grabbed a random shirt from the pile of clean laundry near the stairs.

Bucky hastily checked the watch on his right arm. "Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes tops."

That made Sam utter a series of colourful swears as he finished his breakfast and found his wallet.

"Wait, Sam, what's going on?"

Sam didn't answer Bucky, too busy looking for his keys in the wrong place.

"Sam!" Bucky asked louder.

"We talked about this!" Sam scoffed. "I told her to at least stay for the weekend. I can't believe this! We sat down like adults and came to an understanding." He finally found his keys on the key hook.

"Where are you going, Sam?" Bucky countered.

"I'm going to get her," Sam snapped before sighing dramatically and letting his shoulders droop. "Shit, I do not have time for this, Baby Girl."

Bucky moved over the kitchen counter and stood in front of Sam. "What about that meeting you've got?"

"What meeting?" Sam asked.

"That meeting about that thing," supplied Bucky.

"What thing?" Sam grumbled.

"You know what thing," Bucky countered.

"Oh. That. I'm gonna have to reschedule—Man! Where are my shoes?!"

"Why?"

"Why?" Sam echoed. "What's with all the questions, Buck? Because I have to get Baby Girl before she skips town and disappears on me again."

"Sam."

"I haven't seen her in eight months, man, and she hasn't seen me in five years. I'm not about to let her leave—"

"Sam!" Bucky shouted loud enough for his friend to hear. He grabbed his wallet and his keys and put on his jacket. "You're going to that meeting, Sam."

"Like hell I am," Sam retorted passionately.

"I'll go pick up your Baby Girl," Bucky said after downing the rest of his coffee. "You, go to your meeting."

Sam stopped for a moment and seriously considered Bucky's proposal. It was an important meeting. "She'll probably be at the taxi stand," he finally relented. "You know the one?"

Bucky nodded, tying up his shoelaces. "Yeah, I know the one."

"Buck?" Sam called when Bucky was stepping out the door. "You better bring her back, or else I'm gonna light a fire under your ass."

Bucky chuckled, pushing his sunglasses up his nose. "Understood, Sam."

The taxi stand was abandoned. Really, what did the girl expect so early in the morning? It was a long weekend, and the residents of Delacroix rarely needed a commute into the city on an ordinary Friday. She was arguing with the lone taxi driver, pleading with him, really, to take her to the nearest airport. But the man kept denying her. He had been up all night and insisted on napping, telling her to wait another twenty minutes.

She didn't have twenty minutes, damn it. If anything, she needed more time. Time she didn't have.

Her phone could be blowing up right now, and she wouldn't know it. She wouldn't know the consequences of her actions until she bought a new phone. But maybe—just maybe, a voice inside her reasoned—Quentin would be too busy with his work retreat to notice her absence.

The girl tried getting the driver's attention again, who shot her the most hateful look she had ever received before starting his cab and driving away. "Hey! Wait!" she called out, but he had already turned the corner.

A laugh made her spin around. It was the man from this morning, the one on Sam's couch. He stood before her with his arms crossed, a big smile overtaking his face.

"You must not be from the city," he mused, "if you're that bad at hailing a cab."

Bucky had no trouble locating the girl, what with her being the only person in a one-mile radius demanding to be taken to the nearest airport. Her feeble attempts amused him, and frankly, Bucky was having trouble believing she was Sam's girl. He didn't think Sam would've gone for someone as... difficult as her. But hey, it was Sam wanting to spend the rest of his life with her, not Bucky.

Bucky surveyed the girl from head to toe. Her hair was settled, her pants buttoned, and most of her composure seemed to have returned. However, she had gone pale once he revealed himself, her eyes wide with guilt. She was caught red-handed; now, he would be the one to deliver her to Sam.

Bucky pointed at her with his left arm. "Sam wants you home."

He was surprised to see that when she looked down at the shiny metal, recognition flared through her eyes rather than shock or disgust. Good, he thought. She knows who I am.

"No, thank you," she managed to squeak out, and Bucky was pleased to know that the girl's vocabulary extended past the three phrases he had come to know her for.

"You seem smart," he told her when he saw her looking behind him, "but not that smart."

"Yeah?" she challenged, gaining a rare bit of courage. "What makes you say that?"

"You know who I am and what I'm capable of. Smart. You think you can run from me. Not smart."

"Is that right?" she asked. Bucky nodded, and the girl took a deep breath. "I must not be too smart then."

He raised a brow in challenge, wondering where she would go from there.

Suddenly, the girl threw her arms above her head and waved them with abandon. "Mr. Thurow!" she shouted, running past Bucky. "Mr. Thurow!"

Bucky slowly walked towards the girl, unhurried in his steps. He wanted to know what she would do.

"Mr. Thurow!" the girl panted. "I need your help."

"Jesus Christ!" Mr. Thurow bellowed. "As I live and breathe! Is that you, Baby Girl?" He was a stocky man with a kind smile and welcoming eyes.

"Yes, Mr. Thurow," the girl began confidently, "it is. I need your help, please. This man," she pointed behind her at Bucky, "is—"

"Carlos!" Bucky interjected with a smile. "How are you?"

"Sergeant Barnes! Back again already?" Carlos turned his attention away from the girl.

Bucky watched with amusement as the girl's face scrunched with confusion. Her lips parted slightly, and she blinked rapidly. "What can I say, Carlos? I was missing your potato salad."

"Hell yeah, you were," Carlos guffawed.

The girl stood there dumbfounded as the two men embraced each other.

"You know, it was my great nan's recipe?" Carlos asked. "Been in the family for generations."

"I didn't know that. You bringing it tonight?"

"For the bonfire?" Carlos confirmed. "You bet I am."

"Well," Bucky gestured to the girl, "I was just taking Baby Girl here back home. She got a little lost, and Sam was starting to worry." Bucky made sure to make himself sound condescending on purpose.

He heard her scoff. "I was not lost."

"Well, you get her home safe, then. Understood, Barnes? I want to see both of you tonight." Carlos mockingly glared at the girl and winked at Bucky before departing.

"See you, Carlos!" Bucky called out to his retreating figure. "Well?" he questioned, turning his attention to the girl after a moment of silence. "Are you gonna run and embarrass yourself again, or are you gonna come with me?"

"I am not going anywhere with you!" the girl scoffed.

"I will take you kicking and screaming if I have to," Bucky warned.

The girl took a step back hastily, believing his threat. "You're a heathen."

Well, Bucky shrugged. He had been called worse. "Sam threatened me with fire, and that's not how I'd like to leave this world if it's all the same to you."

The girl seemed to consider his words for a moment. "Fire is a painful way to go," she finally mused.

"It is," Bucky agreed.

"I don't like you," she told him bluntly.

"Okay." A lot of people didn't like Bucky. One more wouldn't hurt.

"But no one deserves to die like that."

It seemed the spawn of Satan had a heart.

"Does seem excessive," said Bucky.

The girl paused again. "If I run, you'll catch me." It wasn't a question.

"Always," Bucky promised, and the girl must have believed him because her shoulders deflated, and she hung her head in submission.

"Doesn't seem like I have a choice," she whispered, though Bucky heard her all the same.

"You don't."

"Okay," she relented.

"Okay. Let's go." Bucky led her toward where he parked, and the girl followed silently.

Good, she isn't being insufferable any longer, Bucky thought. Though, luck must not have been on his side that day because not a second later, once his bike came into view, the girl started complaining.

"No. I'm not sitting on that death trap."

Bucky turned to her with an annoyed groan. "Really?"

"I hate bikes!" she told him.

"What? You rather walk?" Bucky crossed his arms.

"Yes, please," the girl replied, mimicking his posture. "I walked all the way here, didn't I?"

"Well, too bad!" snapped Bucky. "We're taking the bike." He grabbed his helmet and handed it to her. He groaned again when she didn't take it and only looked at him like she'd never seen a helmet before. Maybe she hadn't. He wouldn't be surprised. Bucky rolled his eyes and placed the helmet on the girl's head, securing the straps and confirming it fit snugly.

"It's loose," she complained.

"Your head's a lot smaller than mine..." Bucky took his previous statement back. He could definitely see the girl and Sam together. Both of them were insufferable shitheads and obviously perfect for each other.

"Sit," he gestured to the bike. And when the girl turned to him with the same blank look in her eyes, Bucky merely huffed in annoyance. He picked her up and deposited her on the seat as if she weighed nothing. And she didn't. He ignored her shouts of protest and sat in front of her.

"Where's your helmet?" She sounded worried for him.

Bucky laughed. "I don't need one."

"Yes, you do," she chastised him. "You could die."

"I'm a super soldier," Bucky said as an answer.

"Even super soldiers die," the girl retorted.

"I won't die," Bucky responded blandly before revving the engine. "Hold on tight."

"I am not touching youuuu..." The girl ended her sentence with a sudden shriek when Bucky unexpectedly released the throttle and speedily drove away. Her arms wrapped around his torso in a vice-like grip, and she hid her face in his jacket. "Oh, God!" she screamed. "Oh, my God!"

She took her flailing legs and tried wrapping them around Bucky's hips, which made him laugh in surprise. She was holding onto him like a koala bear, all while screaming bloody murder in his ears. Her nails dug sharply into his chest, but he ignored the sting. He couldn't wait to see her face once they stopped.

And eventually, they did. Bucky parked his bike in the back and told the girl to get off, which, of course, she didn't do. He got up anyway, taking her with him, though she didn't let him go once he was standing.

Bucky tapped on the hand around his shoulder. "You can let go now. It's safe."

The girl obediently unwrapped herself from his body, falling indiligently to the ground.

"See?" Bucky smirked. "We didn't die."

"Oh my God," she groaned, shaking on the ground. "I can't feel my legs."

Bucky laughed, extending his metal arm towards her, which she took without complaint. "Let's try again," he suggested once she was steady on her feet. "I'm Bucky."

The girl told him her name, and he repeated it with a smile. "I still don't like you," she said.

"The feeling's mutual, doll." And if she blushed at the pet name? Well, Bucky simply chose to ignore it.

He was on his third beer, a shame, really, since he couldn't feel it. But Bucky had developed a liking for the taste. It reminded him of better times. Before the war, and before his life completely changed.

Sam plopped down on the chair next to Bucky, a happy but tired smile on his face. Bucky turned to Sam and took a s'more from his outstretched hand, biting into the gooey center with a groan. "Man, this is good. I can't remember the last time I had one of these."

"Probably before Christopher Columbus discovered America."

"That's not funny, Sam," Bucky frowned. "Besides, everyone knows the Clovis people got here first, twenty thousand years ago."

"I didn't know that!"

"Because you're stupid," Bucky retorted.

"Whatever," scoffed Sam. He slid down in his chair and muttered "nerd" under his breath.

Bucky was preparing a retort when something caught his eye. The girl was playing with AJ and Cass, trying to catch them as they ran around the fire. Bucky cracked his knuckles and prepared to confront Sam. "You're really mean, you know that?

"Why? Because I called you a nerd?" Sam scoffed. "Well, it's true."

Bucky shook his head and levelled Sam with a glare. "Because you didn't tell me you're getting married."

A long silence followed. "Who's getting married?"

"You are!" Bucky exclaimed. "I didn't even know you had a girl."

"Because I don't!" Sam straightened. "And I'm not getting married."

"But—" Bucky was at a loss for words, then a thought struck him. "Holy shit, Sam! Don't tell me you—" Bucky leaned forward, lowering his voice considerably. "You slept with a married woman!"

Sam's face screwed up. "What the fuck are you talking about? I didn't sleep with anyone!"

Bucky was stunned, realizing a moment too late that he had completely misread the situation.

"Start from the beginning," Sam urged. And so Bucky told him what happened that morning, how the girl came down half-dressed and wearing his shirt. Bucky thought she was a one-night stand until he saw the ring in her purse, and Sam brought her back to his house.

"So, she's not your fiancé?"

"No! She's like a sister."

"But you call her Baby Girl!"

Sam rubbed his temples. "Everyone calls her that. Listen," he sighed, "maybe I should've introduced the two of you before, but I was overwhelmed by seeing her after so long. Besides, I didn't think you would start jumping to conclusions!"

Bucky rubbed his neck in embarrassment. Perhaps he was too quick to assume the girl was Sam's significant other. But if she wasn't involved with Sam, then who exactly was she?

The girl was sitting across from Bucky and Sam on the other side of the fire pit, nibbling on a s'more. The two men watched her as they talked.

"Her family lived in the plot behind ours. They were good people."

"Were?" Bucky questioned, feeling like there was more to the story.

Sam seemed to dissociate for a moment as if he were somewhere else. "Eleven years ago, my dad woke me up in the middle of the night and told me to run to town and wake as many folks as possible. There was a fire down the street, and the trucks had broken down on the highway."

Bucky tensed, hating the direction the story was taking.

"The smoke was so thick I was choking on it from a block away. Over half the house was up in flames by the time I got back. Three men went in and came right out not a second later. Folks were throwing bucketfuls of water to try and contain it, but I remember thinking that was useless. It's like the flames had a mind of their own."

It was then that Bucky accidentally made eye contact with the girl. She frowned at the intense look on his face, jerking her head as if to ask, "What?"

"What happened next?" Bucky asked without removing his gaze.

"I went towards the back, where the fire wasn't as strong. The upstairs window was wide open, and I found Baby Girl lying on the ground with twisted legs and blood oozing from her head." Sam scoffed a laugh, though there was no humour behind it.

Bucky's jaw dropped. "She jumped?"

Sam shook his head. "We found out later that her brother pushed her. My entire family was at the hospital when we broke the news that she was the only survivor."

"Shit." Baby Girl was glaring daggers at Bucky now, though he couldn't take her seriously. Melted chocolate dripped down her chin, and her hair was mussed from the wind. Bucky imagined her eleven years younger, wide-eyed and trembling as her life crumbled around her. He recalled her comment from that morning. "Fire is a painful way to go." "No one deserves to die like that." He looked away.

"She's acting like you're keeping her hostage," Bucky remarked.

"I might as well be," Sam grumbled. "She's dying to go back to New York, and she won't give me a proper reason why."

When Bucky looked back at the girl, she was chatting with Carlos Thurow, seemingly pleading with him. She waved her broken phone, and Bucky could see the cracks on the screen glinting from where he sat. Baby Girl slumped her shoulders in defeat when Carlos took his own phone out to show it had died.

Bucky felt a jolt in his chest as he watched the girl run her hands through her hair in frustration. Something was wrong.

Sam whistled beside him, waving Baby Girl over. The effect was immediate. Baby girl plastered on a shoddy smile, exaggerating a laugh as she waved back and made her way to them.

"You seem happy," Sam observed as the girl took the empty chair beside Bucky.

Bucky looked at Sam to see if he was joking. Sam was no spy, but didn't one have to be blind to not see how miserable Baby Girl looked under her fake smile?

"The party's very fun," Baby Girl answered. "It's—" guilt flashed across her features. "It's nice to see everyone after so long."

"Could've been sooner," Sam muttered.

"I told you I was busy!" she exclaimed. "I didn't have time to leave the city."

"But you won't tell me why," Sam countered. The fight seemed to leave his body, and he sighed. "I didn't call you over to argue with you. I won't bring it up again."

Baby Girl turned her nose to the sky in a way that made Bucky laugh. "You better not." And the conversation flowed smoothly from there.

Bucky offered her a beer, which she accepted with a smile, and the three laughed and joked about until tears ran unbidden down their cheeks. However, despite the mirth dancing in the air, Bucky could not ignore the lingering sadness in her eyes.

"You won't believe what this man asked me before," Sam guffawed, pointing accusingly at Bucky. "He asked if we were engaged!"

Laughter burst forth from mirth-kissed lips. "That's disgusting!" she managed between giggles. "What made you think that?"

Bucky felt flushed under her attention. "You were wearing Sam's clothes that morning," he explained sheepishly. "And I saw a ring in your purse."

Her face made a radical transformation. One moment, she was smiling in a way that made Bucky's heart flutter—the next moment, all pleasure seemed to drain away from her body, leaving her looking gaunt and haggard. Sam was too busy laughing at his untied shoelaces to notice the change in atmosphere, but Bucky felt the full force of it slam against his chest.

"I don't have a ring."

"But I—"

"No!" Her words seemed laced with desperation. Her sober eyes flicked toward Sam. "There was no ring," she stressed.

Bucky could see the hopelessness in her eyes. "Right," he muttered. "I must have been mistaken."

Sam, who had overcome his slight scramble with his shoelaces, sat upright. Inebriation laced his every move. "Right. But that made me think."

"That's never a good thing," Bucky interjected, trying to ease the lingering tension.

"Are you dating anyone? Sarah said she didn't know, but you can always tell me. Huh?" Sam teased. "Tell me. Who's the unfortunate bastard?"

Baby Girl's lips were a thin line, and Bucky anticipated the lie before she could open her mouth. "It's nothing like that. I'm not dating anyone." She finished the rest of her drink and immediately grabbed another.

"You can't lie to me," Sam wiggled his finger. "Come on, fess up. Whoever he is, he can't be worse than Beck."

Baby Girl froze, and Bucky's curiosity was piqued too much to ignore. "Beck?"

"Quentin Beck. Biggest asshole on the planet," Sam explained. "Beck and Baby Girl dated on and off in college. I would catch the bastard every other week with a different woman."

Bucky scrutinized the girl for a reaction, but she seemed to be holding her breath.

Sam began to pout like a child. "He always managed to win her over. At least I can die easy knowing they broke up before half the world blipped."

"He's not like that anymore," Baby Girl whispered to herself. Sam was too far to hear her, but Bucky had no such problem. "He's changed." She wrapped her arms around her body. "He's not like that anymore."

Bucky took in her dark under-eyes and trembling frame, her body sickly from stress. He believed her. Beck wasn't like that anymore. Perhaps he had moved on from his days of serial cheating and picked up a different hobby. Beck probably wasn't like that anymore, but he wasn't any better either.

The former spy suspected that Baby Girl was still involved with Beck. He observed her closely. Her eyes swirled with guilt, and her shoulders drooped in alarm. There was more to the story, but before Bucky could voice a question, Baby Girl stumbled onto unsteady feet. She swayed back and forth, betraying her inebriation, and Bucky reached over to keep her from falling.

Baby Girl pushed his hands away. "I'm tired," she croaked. "I'm going to bed." And she staggered away, bumping into people as she disappeared into the house.

Bucky relaxed back in his seat with a tired sigh. On his left, Sam was passed out over the arm of his chair, mouth open in a loud snore. Bucky craned his neck back and stared openly at the night sky. Stars twinkled brighter here than they did in the city. Everything was more serene and calm. However, since Baby Girl arrived, Bucky couldn't help but sense a slight shift in the air, as if the wind knew her secrets and was trying to warn them. One thing was made clear. It wouldn't be pretty.

It felt oddly like déjà vu. A light clambering of feet roused Bucky from his half-sleep, and as always, it took a second for him to make sense of his surroundings. He was on Sam's couch.

The steps were hesitant and controlled—so not AJ and Cass. Excitement and a sugar overload had kept them up late, and they wouldn't wake until a few hours later. Bucky was proven right when a lone woman descended the steps instead of two boys.

She looked a lot better than the last time he had seen her. Freshly showered and reasonably presentable in her own clothes this time—not Sam's. She hadn't seen him yet, so Bucky took the opportunity to observe her a moment longer. Her under-eye area was still dark, though not as sunken as before, and she carried an air of determination around her.

"Good morning," Bucky broke the silence.

Baby Girl shrieked, seemingly slipping over nothing. She tumbled backward, falling in an indelicate heap onto an armchair. "God above!"

Her vocabulary was steadily expanding.

Bucky sat up, regarding her with a guilty expression. "Sorry."

"I forgot you were still here," she mumbled sheepishly, straightening herself into a more respectable position.

There was a moment of awkward silence where neither acknowledged the other.

"I was wondering..." the girl started.

"Yeah?"

"Could I borrow some money? I didn't bring enough with me from New York."

"Uh, sure," Bucky replied, grabbing his wallet from between the couch cushions. "How much do you need?"

Baby Girl looked down at her hands, tracing lazy lines on her palm. "One grand?" she grimaced.

Bucky looked at her with wide eyes. "What do you need a thousand dollars for?"

"I can make do with less!" she rushed to explain. "I can try stretching an eight hundred," she murmured. "But a new phone would be too expensive, and I'm not sure I can find a cheap last-minute flight."

"Excuse me?" Bucky exclaimed. He was fully awake now, leaning forward to hear her better. "What was that about a phone and a flight?"

Her guilty eyes met his confused ones. "I broke my phone," she explained, "so I need a new one. I also need to get back home, so I need to buy a plane ticket."

Bucky eyed her skeptically. "I thought you were staying."

"I changed my mind," she dismissed with a shaky wave. "I already went over it with Sam."

Bucky knew for a fact she was lying. She wouldn't even meet her eyes. "Is that what he would say if I asked him?"

"Of course!" she proclaimed. But Bucky could hear the hesitance.

"Okay. I'll go ask Sam." Bucky made to get up, but as predicted, the girl stopped him.

"Wait! Don't!"

Bucky sat back down with a satisfied smirk. "You're a sneaky little thing."

"Don't tell Sam," Baby Girl pleaded. "I'm sorry I lied. I didn't have another choice. He locked my credit card. Otherwise, I wouldn't be asking you for this favour."

"Hmm," Bucky hummed, crossing his arms and getting comfortable. "I'd be willing to help you—Only..." Bucky stressed when she tried to interrupt. "If you answer a few questions first."

Baby Girl mimicked Bucky's posture with a frown. "That hardly seems fair."

"I can always call Sam."

"Fucking fine," Baby Girl grumbled.

Satisfied by the flow of things, Bucky started his interrogation. "Why are you in such a rush to go back home?" Bucky asked, deciding to start small. He could tell Baby Girl was thinking hard about her answer, trying not to give too much away. She squinted her eyes as if it were putting strain on her. He decided she would make a horrible spy.

"I left in a hurry. I only planned a day trip. I don't have any clothes or money on me."

Bucky shook his head. "That's not what I asked."

Baby Girl glared at him. "I don't understand the question."

"What's waiting for you in New York? Do you have a job? A prior commitment? A boyfriend?" Bucky stretched that last word, giving the girl a smirk.

"I don't have a boyfriend," she frowned.

"Fiancé, then," Bucky concluded. "I saw that ring in your purse." He suddenly leapt forward, grabbing Baby Girl's left hand and pulling it toward him to inspect.

She initially squeaked a protest but stayed still as he prodded her ring finger with his eyes. "Tan line," he observed, and she snatched her limb back, throwing the most menacing glare she could manage toward him.

"No fiancé," she hissed.

"I don't believe you," Bucky shrugged. "Job, then? What do you do?"

It took too long for her to answer, making it obvious she was concocting a lie in her head. "I work in the... customer field. Where I work with customers."

If Bucky wasn't on the verge of laughter, he might've cringed from the secondhand embarrassment.

"And... books." She was obviously lying. Even she didn't believe what was coming out of her mouth.

"I think my cat might be a better liar than you," He remarked drily.

The girl huffed but stayed silent.

Bucky decided to try a different tactic. "What year is it?"

The girl regarded him strangely. "2024."

"How many sides does an octagon have?"

"Eight."

"What's Sam's last name?"

"Wilson."

"Who was Iron Man?"

"Tony Stark."

"What colour is the sky?"

"Blue."

"Who locked your credit card?"

"Quentin Beck."

Bucky laughed. The girl stared at him, horrified. She gaped at him like a fish, only managing to make senseless sounds. "Y-you—w-what!"

Bucky laughed harder. "I told you that day. You seem smart, but not that smart."

"How dare you!"

"Last question. Does your boyfriend know you're here?" If looks could kill, Bucky would be dead. He raised his arms in surrender. "I won't judge. And I won't tell Sam. I'm just trying to understand the situation so I can help."

Her glare slowly softened to fatigue. "No. He doesn't know."

Bucky bobbed his head. "I figured as much." He grabbed his unlocked phone and tossed it to her, assuming she would catch it. She didn't. The device smacked her in the chest before falling on her lap, which she stared at dumbly.

"Call him," said Bucky, standing up to stretch. "Let him know you're safe. Tell him no one kidnapped you, and he can unlock your card."

She opened her mouth to reply, but Bucky beat her to it. "I can't get you a plane ticket out of here, so this is the next best thing. You want to leave? Tell Sam about Quentin Beck, and he'll let you. He isn't that big of an asshole to keep you hostage here. There's hope for him yet." Bucky stepped out of the living room but turned around and stopped to add one more thing. "Sam's been different since you arrived. He's happier. You're all he talks about to anyone. Do him one last favour; stay the weekend, and don't choose that Quentin Beck guy over him." With that, Bucky strode to the bathroom to freshen up, missing the first teardrop.

His phone was returned to him an hour or so later, accompanied by an uncomfortable smile and words of gratitude. "I told him I'm safe, and no one kidnapped me."

"Is he mad?" Bucky asked.

"He's a little upset," she confessed. "Promise you won't tell Sam?"

"Only if you promise not to run away." They stared at each other for a long moment, daring the other to disagree.

"Fine," the girl finally conceded. Bucky gave her a stiff nod and turned to leave. "Wait!" she exclaimed urgently. "He's still upset. Just ignore any other messages from him, okay? He should cool down after a while."

Bucky looked into her eyes. She was beautiful and unsuspecting looking. Fiery and transparent. He scrutinized her for deceit and instead found veiled resignation. He agreed and went to the backyard, leaving her in the kitchen.

It was an especially hot day, and there was much to do. Sarah wanted to landscape the back garden, and Bucky had volunteered. He didn't know the first thing about construction, but the boys had recently introduced him to YouTube, a magical place with the answers to all his questions. Bucky began to work, moving piles of dirt, levelling the uneven ground, and placing heavy slabs of concrete to form a pathway from the back porch to the lake.

Hours later, Bucky finished with the last slab of concrete, moving further away to admire his work. There was more to finish, but Sarah would be happy with his progress. Bucky wiped his brow, groaning at the sticky feeling of sweat dripping down his neck.

He grabbed his phone from the table on the porch to check the time, surprised at the number of notifications waiting for him. Bucky was by no means popular. The only person who contacted him somewhat regularly was Sam, but these notifications were all from the same unknown number. Bucky realized with a start that the barrage of missed calls and messages he was being attacked with were probably all from Quentin Beck.

Curiosity grabbed hold of him. He did promise the girl he would ignore any messages from him, but really, this was excessive. What if something was wrong and Beck urgently needed to contact her? He tapped on the message icon without another thought.

Bucky froze when he read the latest message.

You're dead when I find you.

He immediately scrolled to the top, reading the conversation from the beginning to try and gain some context to the threat. The thread started with a long paragraph from the girl detailing her situation, followed immediately with an exhausted apology.

I'm so sorry, please don't be mad. I'll be back as soon as I can.

Where the HELL are you?

Sam was asking questions. I tried to leave, but he got suspicious. I'll be back in a couple of days. I'm sorry.

You shouldn't have fucking seen him in the first place. I warned you.

Sam's career is in my hands. It'll only take one call to ruin him. I fucking warned you to never go near him.

He's trouble. He doesn't care about you like I do. He doesn't love you like I do.

The messages got progressively worse, teetering on the edge of insanity. Promising pain and broken bones, blaming it all on her.

Why do you make me do this?

Typical narcissist behaviour.

You're dead when I find you.

Baby Girl hadn't seen any of the messages after her rushed apology, but Bucky had a feeling she wouldn't be surprised by them either way. He clutched his phone tight, taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

What a bastard. What a self-entitled, psychotic prick. Everything came into clear focus, painting a detailed painting for Bucky to observe. Her behaviour started making sense. The bags under her eyes, the lack of light in her irises, the unworn ring... the secrets.

He decided then that he wouldn't tell her about the messages if she asked. Bucky would wait for the right time tonight to bring up the topic of Quentin Beck as innocently as he could, and offer her his help. She didn't need to know the extent of Beck's threats against her life.

Plan laid out, Bucky made his way inside for a well-deserved glass of cold water when the back door swung open. Baby Girl walked out with two lemonades and a plate of sandwiches balanced between the crook of her elbow. Some lemonade spilled over her hand when she abruptly stopped ahead of him. Bucky took the drinks from her and placed them on the small table.

Baby Girl put the plate of sandwiches next to the drinks and proceeded to lick the spilled lemonade from her hands. Bucky swallowed thickly, feeling flustered at such an innocent act. "You good?"

"Yeah," she replied. "I made us lunch and lemonade. Figured you could do with something cool."

"Yeah," Bucky was suddenly parched. "It's a hot day."

Baby Girl sat down at the table and took a large sip of her drink. "Sarah and Sam went to run some errands in the city. Said they'll be back late."

"What about the boys?" Bucky inquired, sitting down and taking a sip of his own. He groaned as the cool drink washed over him.

"They're having a sleepover at the neighbours." She handed him a sandwich, which he took with a smile.

"So it's just us today," he said, aware that the perfect opportunity for a less-than-pleasant conversation had just presented itself.

"Yup, just us."

An awkward silence fell over them, broken occasionally by the sound of chewing.

"The yard looks nice," Baby Girl blurted.

Bucky turned his neck to observe his handiwork. "Thanks. Still a lot to be done."

"You must be tired."

Bucky shrugged. "Not really. The heat is worse than anything else."

"Is that because of the serum?" she asked, immediately flushing with embarrassment. "Sorry! That's so insensitive of me. And it's none of my business."

"You're good," said Bucky. "I don't mind. Yeah, it's because of the serum. My stamina's through the roof."

"Wow," she admired.

"Could've been real handy with the ladies, back in the forties." Bucky flushed at the silence that followed. "During the war, I mean!" he corrected. "I could've used the stamina during the war."

The girl finished her lemonade in one long sip. "Right, of course."

"For battle. On the battlefield." Bucky finished his own drink, then stuffed another sandwich in his face to keep from further embarrassing himself.

Bucky's phone lit up with a notification, and the girl flicked her eyes toward the screen. "It's my neighbour," he told her. "He's looking after my cat."

Baby Girl visibly deflated. "That's nice," she smiled. "What's its name?"

"Alpine." Bucky decided this was as good a time as any to ask a few questions. "Listen, did you tell Quentin Beck where you are?" Bucky hated the scared look on her face.

"He knows I'm at Sam's," she started slowly.

Bucky took a deep breath and willed his expression to remain neutral. "Does he have an address?"

She shook her head in denial, and only then did Bucky find himself relaxing. He wouldn't need to worry about Beck showing up announced, which gave him more time to come up with a proper plan.

"I'm gonna take a dip," Bucky gestured to the lake. "Wanna join?"

"Maybe later."

Bucky stood up with a shrug. "Suit yourself." And he took his shirt off with one pull.

He felt Baby Girl's stare burning through his skin as he jogged toward the small lake, discarding his pants along the way. He entered the water in a running dive, letting gravity pull him to the bottom before kicking away and breaking the surface with a loud whoop. His body temperature slowly stabilized as he ran laps along the perimeter. He could still feel her stare as he stopped to tread.

"The water's amazing!" he yelled. "Join me!"

She threw her arms in the air. "I don't have a bathing suit."

Bucky floated on his back, arms crossed behind his head. "Who cares?"

After a moment's hesitation, Baby Girl laughed. "You're right. Who cares?" She grabbed the hem of her top and lifted it over her head, revealing a white camisole underneath. She stopped near the edge of the lake, fixing Bucky with a faux glare. "Well, turn around. You're crazy if you think I'm undressing in front of you."

Bucky smirked at her teasing nature and turned away, listening for a splash. After a moment, the water rippled, followed by a shrill scream. "Can I look?"

"Go ahead." Baby Girl laughed when Bucky whipped his head, sending a stream of water flying her way from his hair. "Damn, the water's cold."

"Feels good, though."

"Yeah."

They settled into a comfortable silence, floating on their backs and sneaking glances at each other. Her white camisole had turned see-through, giving Bucky a delicious glimpse of her skin and pale blue bra. He averted his gaze, trying to calm his racing heart.

"I'll miss this when I'm gone," said Baby Girl softly. "The peace and quiet."

"You don't have to leave," Bucky urged. "You could stay."

She turned to face him. "I can't," she replied sadly.

"You're scared for Sam," he observed, remembering the texts. "Why? He's the fucking Falcon. He helped defeat Thanos. Beck is nothing compared to that."

The girl's eyes widened in alarm. "How do you know that?"

Bucky didn't tell her he read the messages. He would've come to the same conclusion sooner or later. He ran his hand through his wet hair. "I used to be a spy." He fixed her with a pointed look. "And you're a horrible liar. Seriously, you are worse than my cat."

She huffed but didn't argue. After a moment of silent contemplation, she settled on her back and regarded him doubtfully. "Quentin has connections with the CIA, FBI, NSA, and Homeland Security. Any government official out there, he's probably on a first-name basis with them." Her face contorted in pain. "He could ruin Sam's life with a single phone call. I swore I would never give him a reason to."

Bucky's jaw clenched tightly. "What's the worst that bastard could do? Sam knows people too."

"Not enough. He could pin a drug charge. It wouldn't even have to stick. The bad press would be enough to ruin Sam's reputation."

"That's illegal," Bucky pointed out dangerously. Quentin Beck was turning out to be worse than Bucky imagined.

"He doesn't care about that when it comes to me," she dismissed. "Quentin can do no wrong when it comes to love."

"That's not love!" Bucky snapped, losing the last of his patience. They were floating dangerously close to one another, elbows brushing.

"Regardless. There's nothing to be done."

"You could stay," Bucky implored. "I'd keep you safe."

They were even closer now, both on their backs, faces turned toward the other, lips dangerously close. For a moment it looked like she might say yes. She opened her mouth to reply, but the sound of a car door slamming shut interrupted her.

"That must be Sam," she said, and the moment was broken.

Bucky moved first, swimming to the deck to grab his discarded pants. "I'll give you some privacy," he said, dragging the fabric up his legs. He left without another word.

Incessant knocking at the front door stopped Bucky in his tracks. Sam always carried a key. Bucky dropped his shirt and went around the house to the front. The car parked in the drive was unfamiliar and out of place. Sleek and shiny and black. Expensive. The man waiting impatiently at the door looked more out of place than the car. Dressed in a gray suit, brown loafers, and black shades, the man looked like he belonged on the cover of a real estate advertisement.

"Can I help you?" Bucky snapped, feeling on edge.

The man lifted his shades to regard Bucky with a look of contempt, eyeing his exposed chest and metal arm with barely concealed disgust. "Yeah, maybe you can. Is this the Wilson residence?"

"Depends on who's asking."

"A friend," the man replied.

"Funny. I didn't know Sam had any friends."

"That's because I'm not Sam's friend," he scorned. "I'm looking for a girl."

Bucky inched closer to him. "I know lots of girls," he quipped.

The man smiled dangerously. "I'm looking for a very specific one. Yay high, unchecked temper, tendency for trouble."

Bucky laughed without humour. "Doesn't narrow much down, buddy. I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

"You must be the Winter Soldier," the man mused.

"I go by James Barnes," Bucky snapped. "You must be Quentin Beck." Bucky had recognized him right away.

Quentin Beck spread his arms in a wide gesture. "The one and only. I suppose she told you about me."

"She didn't have to. I can smell a bastard from a mile away."

Beck clenched his fists, face contorting nastily, and stepped forward. "You little—"

Despite the sweltering heat, Bucky felt a coldness wash over him. His advanced senses picked up on footsteps coming from around the back. His head whipped to the side just as the girl rounded the corner. She wore jeans and nothing else, her white camisole still wet and slightly see-through. Bucky watched with dread as she took in the sight in front of her, blinking confusedly. The colour slowly drained from her flushed cheeks, and she froze as her brain caught up with her eyes.

"Sweetheart?" Beck's demeanour rapidly changed, and he stalked forward with his hands raised non-threateningly. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

Bucky blocked his path with a glare.

When Beck noticed her state of undress, he became angry, clenching his fists at his side. He noted Bucky's bare chest, his low-hanging jeans, and the girl's see-through top. "What the fuck is going on here?" Beck demanded.

When he fixed his icy glare on her, she reanimated, staggering back with a loud gasp, Baby Girl tripped over a rock but continued scooting backwards as she fell over. The raw fear emanating from her was enough to undo Bucky. Bucky shoved Beck as hard as he could—without using his super strength—and slammed him against his car.

"Motherfucker," Beck hissed, clutching his side.

"I suggest you leave before you really piss me off," Bucky threatened, stalking closer.

Beck staggered away, putting his car between them. "Not without my fiancé," he seethed.

"Fiancé, huh?" Bucky turned toward the girl. She was still on the ground, carefully watching the scene with wide eyes. He waited until she looked at him, then gave her a soft smile, silently urging her to trust him. "Are you his fiancé, Baby Girl?"

She jerked her head in denial. "No."

"There you have it. You heard the lady." Bucky's voice lowered dangerously. "Now leave. Before I make you leave."

"She's lying!" Beck screamed. And Bucky got the impression he was used to getting his way. "I gave her a ring."

Bucky had cornered Beck against the hood of his car and was looming dangerously over his crouched figure. "I don't see any ring. Now leave!"

Beck unlocked the car, jerking open the driver's side and inelegantly lumbering in. "This isn't over yet, Winter Soldier," he spat, and with one last seething glare toward the girl, he sped off.

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist│Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3

Comments and Reblogs are appreciated!! 💜

@marvelatthetwilight @hallecarey1 @ria132love

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #tfatws!bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes #tfatws!bucky #marvel #fytflam fic #rosepetalsinwinter

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rassvetsky · 1 year

Text

Completely

bucky barnes x reader

"Being one of the few people Bucky Barnes trusted meant having to babysit Alpine when he's away. Luckily for you, Alpine was one hell of a listener and you were sure she got that from her dad."

[1k] | fluff alpine being cute, sappy bucky, friends to lovers kinda? written seconds after a mental breakdown while drunk so enjoy

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread.

You didn't feel guilty making yourself at home on Bucky's mattress, the cup of coffee you've prepared for yourself sitting graciously on the nightstand as you grabbed your phone from where it was charging. He barely ever slept in proper places anyway, preferring the floor like a kicked puppy and it made your heart clench each time, but not like you could tell him what to do with his own life.

Alpine was already seated on the soft sheets, her soft purr warming up the room, big eyes squinted in a sleepy gaze. She basically threw herself on your palm when you reached to pet her, soft white fur bringing a smile to your lips with the way it felt under your fingertips as you heaved a sigh.

"Your dad's kinda psychotic, you know that?" you hummed, chuckling to yourself a little afterwards. "Why get a mattress this comfy if you're never going to use it?" and she looked up at you like she understood, before letting a yawn out and slowly approaching you on the bed, temptative steps leading her up to your stomach where she decided to lay on. "You're gonna sleep there?" you snickered. "Alright, that's new. Somebody loves me." and although you were facing her butt and she was facing the other side of the room, you could still feel the love.

"Wish your dad was affective like you, though." you spoke, softly. "Not expecting much, he's stoic as hell anyway but… I don't ever understand what he's feeling, you know? What he's thinking about. Sometimes he's just gazing at me like I'm something a lot more than just a friend who babysits his cat and sometimes he's staring at me like he wants me dead. Can't really tell," your fingers carded through her fur, head tilted a bit in thought. "Really hope it's not the latter, though. I won't stand a chance."

Little did you know then, that Bucky was already home, having stepped inside as quietly as he could since it was a bit late at night, not wanting to wake you if you were asleep. Frowning a bit upon hearing your voice, his steps led him to the door of the bedroom, as he stood by the frame to tell if you were on the phone or had anybody over.

"I like the guy, actually. I think you take a lot after him, Alpine." your soft hum got the cat to purr even louder as she laid her head on your lap. "I think deep down in there, he's just really… Sensitive. Sometimes he remembers the smallest details about something I told him months ago and suddenly- suddenly I feel like he's out there in the sky, hanging the stars for me, you know?" you sighed. "So cruel of him to make me feel that way and then… Not do anything about it."

Bucky felt his heart twist, leaning on the door frame with a faint smile by his lips.

"And sometimes- yep, there we go," you chuckled when she got off your lap, just to find a spot to lay on right next to you. "Knew that wouldn't last long. Anyway, as I was saying- I think, um, I think we almost kissed this weekend. It was the key handing-over ceremony, at that pub that he often goes to- we… Maybe I'm reading too much into it."

Her purring got a bit more quiet, as if she was on the verge of falling asleep. "But we… We definitely hugged too long. And then for a moment I swear- He just went in for the lips and pulled back right before they could touch and… I almost died, Alpine. Thank fucking God he rushed out after that because I almost had a heart attack."

Your touch on her head was as soft as it could get. "Now that I think about it, you and I are quite similar. He's your whole world. And I think… He's slowly becoming mine, too."

That's when Alpine perked up, and had you following her gaze to the door.

That's when you saw him, arms folded on his chest with Alpine rushing to his feet, just to purr and nuzzle against the material of his jeans.

That's when you noticed the way he was smiling so bright that it was suddenly morning again for you.

"Please don't tell me. I don't wanna know for how long you've been there."

"Long enough," he replied, shrugging before long strides took him next to you, to sit by the edge of the bed and shake his head. "Sorry. Should've let you know that I was home."

"Yeah, you-" you couldn't find the words, suddenly. Pushing yourself up, you re-positioned yourself until you were sitting right next to him. "You really should've. But don't be sorry- I'm sorry."

"The only reason you should apologize is that you were telling all that stuff to Alpine," he spoke, in a tone so gentle that it could lull you to sleep right there and then. "While you could've told me. And for the record, I really wanted to kiss you that night. So bad."

"Really?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he snickered. "You're already my world. Completely."

#bucky barnes x reader #marvel x reader #tfatws x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes oneshot #tfatws #bucky barnes fic #marvel fic #tfatws fic

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fluffysucker · 6 months

Text

Desperate People find faith.

Bucky Barnes x reader

An accident mends your broken heart.

A/N: Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female.

I read this amazing oneshot, and I couldn't stop thinking about this idea. So I added my own twist to it. Thanks to the wonderful writer for sharing it and for inspiring me.

Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated. Opinions really matter to me

TW: Bullets and blood. Mentions of torture but nothing explicit

Main Masterlist

You knew you shouldn't have done it. You should have stayed home. What could barely be described a home. You should have minded your business. You should have acted like the civilian you are now. You shouldn't have done it. But your loyalty to Steve wouldn't have let you

The image of the cheap copy so-called Captain America holding the shield blasting all over the news was a hit. A gut-wrenching hit. There was a guy who was taking the place of your childhood best friend, the man you called brother, the fearless leader. And he looked happy doing so. Then the blond had the audacity to say that Steve felt like a brother to him. You felt physical pain that you almost threw up.

Rationality went out the window. Before you knew any better, you were tracking down the man who was handed your friend's legacy. The man who gave it away when there was nobody more deserving than him. It wasn't hard to know exactly where Sam Wilson was. You were aware he joined the Air Force once again. So you hijacked the location of his next mission, demanding answers.

But it appeared that you weren't the only one who had the same plan. As you were talking to Sam, trying to be as nice as you could, giving him the benefit of the doubt, telling him you weren't here to judge or pick a fight. You just wanted an explanation. You heard him.

"Shouldn't have given up the shield."

His voice was filled with anger. But you could hear the sadness hidden in his tone. Sam scuffed, walking away from you as well. You turned around and you saw him. The love of your life. Quite literally.

You fail to recall a time you weren't in love with James Buchanan Barnes. Growing up together, your trio was inseparable. You would never see one without the others. From the age of three till your twenties, the three of you were more than family.

Despite loving Steve like the brother you never had, the same couldn't be said about his best friend. Your feelings for the brunette were never platonic. Neither were his. In the second grade, he promised to marry you once he got older. And he did. He kneeled to the ground with a beautiful golden ring for you once he secured a job. It was the easiest yes in your life.

Loving him came to you naturally. Stolen glances. Sweet words. Fast heartbeats. Shy smiles. Gentle touches. You were each other first everything. It was like you were made for each other. Like you were born to love him.

And he was your perfect man. Every woman envied you. Every woman hoped to have someone look at her like he looked at you. Every woman wished for a man who treated her the way he treated you. Every woman prayed for a man to love her that much.

Bucky Barnes was head over heels in love with you. And he made sure he showed it.

You were the luckiest girl.

Up until your luck ran out. War knocked on your door like a hurricane, destroying your life.

You remember the night before Bucky was shipped. When you went home after what couldn't be called a double date at Stark expo. The promises the both of you made. Your dream wedding. Your house. Your family. Your kids. All of it. Your future. And you believed him. You couldn't fathom any alternatives.

So when Steve walked in your tent where you did your job as a journalist, who was asked to cover The Howling Commandos missions and subject their heroism to the public, you knew. The look of utter defeat in his face, his glassy eyes, his red nose, the way he was trying to shrink away in his new huge body, you knew.

Your heart was ripped and broken to pieces. The pain was suffocating. You were drowning. You felt like the world ended. Life stopped.

You don't remember how things went after that. You don't remember if Steve ever said the words to you, but you remember his promise of revenge as he held your sobbing body against his chest.

And he did. He ended Hydra. But it came with a price. Very high. After Steve's sacrifice, life became meaningless. You weren't living. You were barely breathing. You were alone.

So when the government asked you to write the final article about the war, the winning announcement, you were about to turn it down. You found difficulties in everything. Leaving your bed sounded like a tiring task. Eating felt like a punishment. Functioning like a human became a burden.

But you remembered how supportive Bucky was of your career. When every man let women their abandon their dreams, Bucky helped you fight for yours. And he gave his life for this victory. Your fiancée and bestfriend. You owed it to them. To be the one to report the triumph tinted with their effort and blood.

So you put in all your strength and travelled with the small team to write the most important piece of work in your life.

However, only a number of people of the team and the article made it back. You didn't.

On your way back, you were ambushed by unknown soldiers. They took you to unknown quarters. You were so confused until you saw that cursed symbol. They weren't gone. Neither was your fiancée.

And that began a lifetime of torture and pain. They brainwashed Bucky but left you with your memories. So when they threatened to hurt him, you caved and let them do whatever they wanted to you. It was a trap they built for you, and you fell in it every time. They would hurt both of you at the end.

You endured it all. You survived it all. Except the moment they made Bucky look you in the eyes and fight you. They erased you from his mind. You saw the love of your life, and he saw nothing. He looked at you and saw either an enemy or a mission partner. And that was the most painful torture Hydra put you through.

As if this wasn't enough. You had to face a hindrance you never thought of.

After Steve rescued the both of you, after him running away from you, after spending two years making amendments with the government and helping Steve search for him, after the accords and Zemo's predicament, after he remembered you, after Princess Shuri was able to give him back his freedom, after you hugged him as he cried, after you decided to finally have that wedding, Thanos happened.

You believe you did something so terrible in another life, and you were getting punished for it in this life. There was no logical explanation as to why this kept happening to you. Why were you robbed of any chances of happiness. Why did you have to watch your man disappear right after having him back. Why you could only feel ache and misery. Why was the world so cruel.

So you kept your hopes to minimum when Steve came to your shared apartment one night, telling you that they had a plan. You agreed to join them in the time heist, ready to be disappointed.

But the second you saw Bucky standing on the sides with his machine gun, you wanted to cry. You thought it was an illusion, but these blue eyes said something else. Now, you were fighting with a strong drive and purpose.

You thought that was it. Your happy ending. You finally had him. But Steve leaving tore you apart. You were happy for your bestfriend who finally did something for himself. However, you couldn't help but feel sad. At least you and Bucky had each other.

Bucky had another thing in mind. Because, a couple of weeks after Steve leaving, Bucky broke up with. He said he needed to figure himself out and work on his pardon. You understood. But it didn't make it any easier.

So you left, giving him all the space he needed. You hadn't seen or spoken to each other since. At least he is alive. That's what you kept telling yourself to find any sort of comfort or condolence.

So this was the first time you had met. He looked different. He cut his hair. He had a scruff. He was wearing an all black outfit. He had gloves on. He had little bags under his eyes. He looked good overall. That's what mattered to you.

"Good to see you too, Buck." Sam said as he walked with intentions to move away from Bucky.

"This is wrong." Bucky didn't give him the chance as be walked beside Sam, without batting you an eye. You couldn't say that didn't hurt but you followed them anyway.

"Look, I'm working, alright. So all this outrage is going to have to wait." It was clear that Bucky wasn't here to have a civil conversation like you.

"You didn't know this was going to happen?" Bucky accused Sam.

"No, of course I didn't know that was going to happen." Sam was quick to deny Bucky's accusations.

"You think it didn't break my heart to see them march him out and call him the new Captain America." This was more directed towards you, following up to your conversation before Bucky cut in.

"This isn't what Steve wanted." Bucky wasn't going to back down.

"Oh my god. So what do you want me to do? Call America and tell them I changed my mind. " Sam's sarcastic reply did nothing but annoy Bucky's more.

"Like I told your wife. There is nothing we can do. You just couldn't wait for her to get home." You looked at Sam. It didn't appear to you that he wouldn't know.

"We broke up."

Another wave of pain hit you as you turned to look at Bucky, who was still not looking at you. How easy could he just say it with no emotions at all. You were fighting to get by every day, and he looked like he didn't care.

"What?!" Sam stopped suddenly once he heard Bucky's words, turning to the both of you.

"You,two lovebirds who literally broke laws to be together, broke up?" Sam couldn't believe his ears. He thought you would have gotten married by now. Your love for each other more epic than all the novels he read.

"Were you asked to give it up?" You changed the topic quickly, refusing to answer Sam's question or talk about your tragic love story. It hurt bad enough, and you didn't want to show it.

"Of course not." Sam heard you loud and clear. He also knew your question had pure intentions. You weren't here to offend him.

"Right, great reunion, guys. Be well." Sam turned to walk out, ending this conversation.

"You had no right to give up the shield, Sam." Bucky was angry, and he was showing it. In the wrong way.

"This is what you aren't going to do. You aren't going to come here in your over extended life and tell me about my rights." Three of you came to a stop.

"It's over." Sam added, looking at you as you came to stand next to Bucky.

"Besides, I have bigger things to deal with."

And you hadn't rest since.

It was, indeed, big thing to deal with.

You had no idea what you were getting yourself into when you impulsively followed Sam and Bucky into the plane.

It was a constant mess. The flag smashers. New super soldiers. Karli Morgenthau. Isaiah Bradley. Zemo. Madripoor. Power Broker. And the worst of them all. John Walker and Lemar Hoskins. It never ended.

All that chaos was a good distraction. You didn't have time to think about your broken heart nor to think about the current nature of your and Bucky's relationship.

It was complicated and confusing.

You fought very well together. Your combined sets of skills were lethal. Your collective training and ability to work together kicked in when needed. Away from that, the both of you barely talked. You acknowledged each other existence. That's how you would describe it.

However, you couldn't explain why Bucky refused when Raynor asked you and Sam to join them in the session in the police station. Or why he always made sure you stayed at least an arm distance away from Zemo. Or why did he choose to be the Winter Soldier for the night instead of you compromising your identity that you kept a secret all these years. Or why, that day at Madripoor, he almost took multiple bullets for you. Or why whenever John showed up, his hand would always find yours.

You were thankful you didn't have the time to think about all of this because you were sure you would have lost your mind. You barely had your emotions in checks. And there was a lot going on.

Then it all went crushing. You would never forget this day.

You followed Sam and Bucky, running out of the building into the street, only to see the calamity that just occurred.

John Walker stood proud with the blood-tinted shield above the man he just slaughtered.

Instinctively, your hand came up to wrap around Bucky's bicep, looking for any comfort for the both of you. This scene would forever be engraved in your memories.

Three of you gave John some time. You stood outside of the warehouse he was in right now. You knew if you all went angry, the results would be catastrophic.

But it was anyway.

You let Sam do most of the talking. He was the best in this. If anyone could convince John to hand over the shield, it would be him. So you stood and watched. But it appeared that the time you gave John Walker to cool down only drove him more over the edge. So, with the three of telling him to give up the shield, John Walker lost his mind.

It should have been an easy fight. A veteran and an avenger and two super soldiers. It shouldn't be hard. But neither one of the three of you was fighting was the intention to hurt John. Unlike him, John was fighting to kill. With his new powers, he was uncontrollable.

You let out a high-pitched scream once you saw John throw Bucky away, electrocuting his arm, making him lose consciousness. Then you watched as he straddled Sam on the ground. You needed to act quickly.

You groaned as you got up from the floor, looking at the cut in your arm. Nothing too bad. You told yourself as you ran toward John tickling him away from Sam.

It was just you and him, now.

And it was brutal.

You were still trying not to hurt him too much. However, he was unstoppable. So when he figured that he would lose combat with you eventually, he retrieved to other options.

Picking the shield and throwing it at you for it cause a cut in your chest was enough distraction for him to take out the gun he kept in his suit and shot you.

The bullets found their places in your stomach and legs. He aimed for places that you wouldn't recover from. You fell to the ground, coughing blood, feeling the bullets rest so deep in your body.

John walked towards you with the shield. He looked at you. His eyes were showing insanity and rage. He lifted the shield up and hit you in the chest. The pain was like no other. And you knew that was it.

It felt ironic in so many ways. Your bestfriend's shield. The shield that presented all of Steve's values and beliefs. The shield that helped once save your life. Now, it was going to be the weapon to kill you.

Of all the ways you thought you would die in, this wasn't even close. But when was life ever fair to you? At least you would have peace now. Your dying wish was for Bucky to know how much you loved him and how you wanted him to be fine and happy. Because you loved Bucky more than life itself.

You tried to distract yourself from the excruciating pain by counting how many hits of the shield would it take to end you.

You counted two.

You started coughing violently as you felt a weight got lifted off your chest. All your body going numb for seconds.

You saw Bucky was up once again, and he managed to corner John with Sam, trying to break his arm to take away the shield.

You desperately tried to get up and help them, but your whole body was on fire. Why was the serum not working?

A breath escaped you once you heard the sound of bone breaking. Only to realize breathing hurt. Everything hurt so bad.

With cuts on your arms and face, bruises on your ribs, wounds in your chest, bullets in your stomach and legs, you gave up, closing your eyes.

Because of your agonizing pain. You didn't hear Bucky beating the life out of John after taking the shield. He didn't stop until John passed out.

Bucky turned around and saw a sight that came straight out of his worst nightmares. He had seen it too many times. Woke up scared and sweating because of it. A sight that he knew would haunt him more than it already did.

Your lifeless body in a pool of blood.

He took careful steps towards you, praying it would disappear, and this would just be a nightmare of his. But the sound of your faint heartbeats made it real.

"Doll." Bucky got on his knees next to you, holding your motionless body in his arm.

You hissed in pain as you felt a movement that caused all the pain in your body to stir awake again.

"Bucky." Your voice was a whisper. You were too tired to open your eyes, but the feeling of the metal around you was familiar.

"I'm right here, doll." Bucky may not let it show in his voice, but if you opened your eyes, you would see the fear and tears.

"I need you to stay awake, okay. Can you do this for me? Please, stay awake." Bucky never felt this desperate before.

"Help is on the way." The three of you had already arranged with Torres to have an ambulance on stand-by. You had a feeling things would go bad. But not that bad.

"I'm tired." The amount of blood you were losing was making you too dizzy.

"I know, doll. But you will be okay." Bucky didn't care about the blood getting all over him as he pulled you closer to him.

"You will get better. Because you have to." He was saying it more to himself than you.

"I prayed for this." Talking was getting too hard, but you had to tell.

"What did you pray for?" Bucky was doing anything to keep you awake. He needed to listen to your voice.

"To die in your arms."

Bucky felt the tears escape his eyes, falling down freely on his face.

"You aren't dying. You will be okay." You heard it. The shakiness of his voice.

Fighting the great pain you were in, you opened your eyes to look at him. You wanted to see him one last time. This is why you prayed to die in his arms. So his face would be the last thing to see. This voice would be the last thing you heard. His arms the last thing you felt. Your farewell to the cruel world would be with the man who had been your heaven on Earth.

You lifted your arm with a moan of pain before you placed it on his cheek. You needed to say it. You needed it to be your last words.

"I love you, Bucky. I loved you my whole life."

With that, the world went dark.

You didn't get to see the mess that Bucky became as he heard your heartbeats slow down. His screams and desperate calls of your name to wake up.

He was so blinded by pain that he didn't let the paramedics near, protecting your body until he realized who they were. They didn't try to fight him when he insisted on getting in the ambulance with you.

All the time you were in the surgery, Bucky was inconsolable. He didn't care that Sam and Torres saw him as he sobbed, sitting on the floor waiting for anybody to tell you were fine. All he cared about was that he didn't say it back. You could die not knowing how much he loved you. The thought brought new tears to his already puffy red eyes

He prayed to God and anyone that would hear. If you were standing close enough, you would hear him. "Please, don't take her from me." "Please, let her be okay." "Take me instead of her." "She deserves so much better, please."

In his long life that was filled with hardships, torture, and wars, this was the worst pain he ever went through. He could feel his heart twisting and breaking. Every cell in his body was hurting. The emotional pain turning physical.

His eyes were dried up. Cheeks stained with tears. His mind going through all the worst scenarios. None of them he would be able to survive.

He jumped up from the floor when the door opened, and a doctor walked out. His heart was beating a thousand miles a second. All these prayers never leaving his mouth. His last hope.

"She is okay."

Tears of relief fell from his eyes. You survived it. You made it. The doctor talked about your injuries. With medications and the seurm, you would heal properly. Bucky didn't pay attention. His mind focused on one thing. He needed to see you.

After knowing your room's number, Bucky didn't leave your side. The doctor told him it might take a bit for you to wake up, but he didn't mind. He would stay forever.

It wasn't long before you woke up.

You opened your eyes slowly, adjusting to the bright lights. The last thing you remember was the intense pain. It didn't hurt as much now. You just felt so exhausted. You tried to move your hands, only to be blocked.

You looked down to see Bucky holding your hand so tightly and his head resting next to it. You could tell his eyes were swollen and his nose was red. But he looked peaceful sleeping. You missed him so much.

Without much thought, you moved your other free hand to his head, playing with his hair. It felt soft under your fingers. You blamed the serum that made him wake up from such a simple touch.

You smiled softly as you watched him, trying to remember where he was and what he was doing. He looked confused until he saw you.

"You are awake." Bucky got up from the seat next to the bed.

"Are you okay? Are you pain? What hurts? I'm going to call the doctor." He was frantic. He only stopped when you held his metal hand.

"I'm okay, Bucky." You reassured him with a smile.

You repeated it a couple of times before he finally sat back down on the chair. That's when you noticed he was still in his suit that was covered in blood. Your blood.

After he sat down, he looked at your intertwined fingers together and couldn't help the tears.

"What's wrong?" You asked as you moved your thumb gently on his knuckles.

"You scared the life out of me." He answered as he wiped his tears away.

"Though we were used to this, Barnes." You replied playfully, hands still together.

"Not when it comes to you. Never you." Bucky was fast to respond.

"Nothing I haven't been through before." You said it casually. You didn't miss the look in Bucky's eyes. It held too much depth to it. You couldn't put your hand on it

"Is your arm okay? Do you need to get it checked?" Flashbacks were coming back to you bit by a bit. As you touched his metal arm, you remembered what happened to him.

"You are in the hospital bed, and you are asking about my arm." Bucky's laugh was dry. He would always be in awe of how caring you were.

"I will never stop caring about, Bucky. Even if you don't want me." It was true. Nothing could make you stop caring about Bucky.

"Don't want you?" Bucky couldn't let your comment go by.

"Yeah. You don't want me anymore. It's okay. I understand."

"You understand?"

"I remind you of a bad time. The worst. And you had to move on. You had to cut ties with all parts of this time."

"Is this why you think we broke up?"

"Isn't it?"

You started telling yourself this after the breakup as a way to pick the shattered pieces of your heart. Of course, he didn't want to be with someone who held their bad time as a constant reminder on her body as scars. Or with someone who went through the same hell as him. He deserved someone better. Someone who wasn't so damaged.

And you understood.

"No, it isn't."

He was planning to tell you everything but not right now. But words just fell out from the tip of his tongue.

"I don't look at you and see bad time. I look at you, and I see all my failures."

You looked at him, baffled, not getting what he meant.

"I remember everything."

You still didn't know what he wanted to say.

"I remember what Hydra did to you. What they made you do for me. What I did to you."

"Bucky.."

"How they pushed you too far in the lies of not hurting me. How they made you watch as they erased you from my mind. How they made me fight you. Hurt you."

You were about to tell him how you didn't hold him accountable to any of this because it was never his fault. It was never his intention. You were sure Bucky would never hurt you. The Winter Soldier not too. But he cut you off.

"They took you because they knew how much you meant to me. How important you are to me. I was the reason you had to go through all of this."

"I look at you and remember how I failed to protect you. When that's all I ever wanted in life. To protect you. But I failed."

"Just like I failed today."

Before you could say anything, he kept going.

"I couldn't understand how you could still love me."

"I looked at the list of people I hurt, and your name was first. And you wanted to help me. You wanted to stay by my side. I couldn't live with the guilt. I still can't. I had to let you go despite how bad it hurts."

"But, doll, I want you to be sure nobody will ever love you half as much as I do."

It took years for Hydra to remove you from his mind. But what they didn't know was that they never fully succeeded.

At first, he would forget his name but remember his girl and everything about you. Then they become harsher, so he would only remember your face and name. Then, it became only your face. Then nothing. The blank paper for them to write what they wanted.

However, whenever Hydra made the both of you train together or go on missions, he would get this rush of flashbacks like a movie playing in his head once he was alone in his cell. It would be you. In different places and different ages. The Winter Soldier would convince himself that it must be his memories from past missions. Effects of being wiped too many times.

The soldier was never able to shake the feeling of guilt after a training session where he would be instructed to be tough with you. A feeling so foreign to him.

He remembers the first time he refused to hurt you. They made him watch from far as they tortured you. Then they wiped him again. Every time he showed any sympathy for you, he was wiped and handled roughly.

But all the efforts weren't enough. You were the first thing he remembered once he settled in Bucharest. That's when the guilt came in. It was you. The love of his love. His fiancée. And they got to you. And he couldn't save you.

Even after the blip, His thoughts kept going back to how he betrayed you and hurt you instead of protecting you like he was meant it.

But the worst part was how he thought he didn't deserve your love anymore. He thought you would resent him. So he decided to break his heart into two. He left.

You were the forbidden topic that Raynor wasn't allowed to go near despite how much she wanted. You were the centre of his nightmares. All of them. Past memories of both of you at Hydra. Missions and trainings. And the worst, losing you. Watching you getting killed. Nightmares that invaded him, and he was defenceless.

"I love you, and I'm so sorry." Bucky laid soft kiss on your hand.

"Let me ask a question, Bucky." He looked at you, tears still filling his eyes.

You didn't expect this to be the real reason why you and Bucky broke up. But you should have known. He was too good of a man.

"If it had been the other way you around, wouldn't you have done the same? Would you have hated me then?"

"I would give my life for you without hesitation. And nothing could ever make me hate you."

His answer was fast. That was the only thing he knew about himself. You come first, always.

"Then why are you surprised with what I did? You don't love me more, Bucky." You laughed softly, already feeling your ribs ache a bit.

You always had this running joke that Bucky loved you more than you did. And to a lot of the extent, it was true.

"You didn't deserve it."

"Neither did you."

You patted the spot on bed next to you, wanting him to be close to you. And he listened. He sat on the bed, hands never leaving each other.

"Haven't we been through enough? Haven't the world tore us apart too many times? Let us have this."

If he still loved you, then you should be together. You should be broken together. You should heal together. It was poetic how even in pain, you were still together.

Both of you understood each other better than anyone. You shouldn't be separated.

"You don't hate me?" It was Bucky's worst fear and biggest doubt. If the damage Hydra did was unrepairable.

"I can live hundreds of years and still be in love with you."

You squeezed his hand to make sure he knew how serious you were. "You are all I have ever known, Bucky."

With that, Bucky got up and moved so close to you. Your faces millimetres away from each other. His breath fanning over your face. His personal scent with dust and blood engulfing you. His blue eyes warming the inside of you.

"I got the best girl of them all." Bucky kissed you.

It was a soft, slow kiss. A sign of starting over. Of getting back.

You smiled in the kiss. Bucky used to say this all the time back then. You were known as Bucky's best girl. He used to call you that.

You broke away, feeling so much better now. Bucky rested his flesh hand on your cheek.

"I thought I lost you. I was so scared."

"You didn't. I'm right here."

"Though you will leave me before I say it back." You looked at him, puzzled.

"I love you, doll. You are the thing I live for. You are the purpose of my existence. I love you so much."

You didn't care about the pain as you moved up to meet his lips one more time. And he kissed you back right away.

"You owe me a ring and wedding, Barnes." You joked while you brought your other hand to hold into his suit to ground yourself.

He laughed before he moved away for a bit, and you already missed the closeness, and he wasn't far. You watched as he brought his dog tags out. You saw something bright with them but couldn't tell it was.

"Oh my god." You felt tears gather in your eyes as Bucky brought out the shiny thing closer.

It was your ring. Your engagement ring. The ring Bucky put in your finger many years ago. It was it. You thought it must have been lost that you didn't try to look for it, avoiding the disappointment.

But here it was. Bucky was able to find it. And he kept it with his dog tags. So close to his heart. Where you belonged.

Bucky got in one knee in his technical gear in a hospital room with you connected to IV.

"Doll, will you marry me?"

You laughed loudly that you felt pain shot again in your body. Bucky was next to you in an instant when your laugh turned to a cough.

"Third time is a charm." You said as you gave him your hand.

With another proposal in Wakanda before the snap, you managed to get Bucky Barnes on his knees three times for you.

He put the ring on your finger and pressed a kiss on your hand. "It will be. Mrs. Barnes." The name always had its sweet effect on you.

Bucky leaned in again to kiss you. And this kiss felt out of the world. Like a lifeboat before drowning. Water after the drought. Your rescue.

It was Bucky's promise of safety and security. Nothing and nobody was ever going to hurt you again. A promise of a safe home. Together.

You kept your forehead resting on his as your hand found its place once again on his suit.

"No to be rude, but you need a shower, babe." You could feel the dust on his face and the blood dried on his suit and skin.

"I will be okay. Probably going to fall asleep." You didn't give him a chance to protest.

"Plus, you know. I like my man nice and clean." You pecked his lips playfully.

The sound of the word "your man" falling from your lips referring to Bucky made his heart do little dances. Damn right he was your man.

"I won't take long." He kissed your hair before he got up and left to get himself presentable for his lady.

The world felt lighter, brighter, better. You felt happy. You were happy. You looked at the ring that held huge meaning for you. You weren't hurting. You were finally okay. You had your man back.

Who would have thought a near death incident would be the thing to give you back the man who always brought life to you.

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tom-whore-dleston · 7 months

Text

Love Changed the Minds of Pretenders

Pairing ▹ Bucky Barnes x gn. reader

Word Count ▹ 1k

This fic contains ▹ angst, fluff, songfic, unestablished relationship, mentions of sex, mentions of Joaquin x reader, mutual ending of relationship, light beta reading (even though there are no explicit mentions of adult themes, I do not want minors or blank blogs interacting with this fic)

Summary ▹ Do you remember | The 21st night of September?

Notes ▹ I should be asleep right now because I have work at 7am but I just had a random burst of creativity and I needed to let it out. Anyways, this is my submission for @bucks-and-noble Summer Send Off. Thank you @buckets-and-trees and @sgt-seabass for creating this challenge and refueling my love for Bucky. And a special shoutout to the book club! I am so happy I met y'all and I am beyond grateful for the bond we have created 💖 Fun fact: This is my first ever Bucky fic woop woop!! Remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed! 😊

Prompt ▹ use a lyric [from September by Earth Wind and Fire] as direct inspiration for a theme/idea

September 21, 2022. 10:02 pm.

The night you met Bucky Barnes.

Of all places, you met Bucky at a bar. The same bar where your friend performed their first live show and they invited you to watch. You weren’t expecting to meet anyone that night. Your heart had been broken only a few weeks prior.

Everyone thought: Was he a rebound? A distraction?

No. He was so much more than that. It could have been easy to feel that way fresh out of heartbreak. Even more so when outsiders were constantly questioning what you and Bucky really were. But there was clearly a reason Bucky showed up in your life after this period of hurting.

Bucky gave you love and security. He made you feel safe when he took you to the movies, when he made love to you, when you slept peacefully in his strong arms. You always thanked him for the things he did to make you feel secure and loved. He’d reply with his typical phrase, “I’m glad I make you feel that way.”

He welcomed you into his home, his life, and his heart after many years of keeping the door locked and the key tucked away. Waking up and stroking your face before pressing a kiss to your dry lips was something that made your love for him stronger. Then after an hour or so of getting tangled between the sheets, you both would jump in the shower, gently caressing one another with soapy hands. Breakfast with Bucky was another tender ritual that you cherished. Whether it was at 10 in the morning or 1 in the afternoon, you never skipped breakfast with him.

He challenged your negative thoughts and beliefs. You and Bucky would stay on the phone until 3 in the morning talking about the universe, aliens, and other conspiracy theories. The two of you would ponder on the purpose of your lives and the ways of the universe. One thing you both were certain about was that you wanted your lives to be fulfilling and meaningful. Your world expanded and bloomed with beauty and wonder because of him. You wanted to be better and so did he.

Bucky made you believe in love again. And you made Bucky believe in love again.

As the months passed, everything was splendid. Perfect, even. But with perfection, there’s always something lacking. Of course, you wouldn’t have seen what was lacking if it slapped you in the face.

After 10 months of dating Bucky, you finally revealed your love for him. Now, Bucky wasn’t the type to say it. Heck, he didn’t even say “I love you” to his sister unless she said it first. Yet that wasn’t a deal breaker because he expressed his love in other ways.

“I love you, too. I know your feelings for me are strong, but I don’t know if I can give you what you want.”

It was understandable. He did mention in the beginning that he wanted to casually date. You forgot that you wanted the same thing. Man that felt like such a long time ago. Time really does fly when you start to fall in love. And hard you fell.

You hid your disappointment by making more excuses as to why being committed to Bucky would not be in the cards. First, there was the long distance. Then, there was the uncertainty about both of your futures. For a couple that talked a lot about your ambitions, you both lacked the confidence in where you would go in life. As the list of reasons piled up, there was one that made your brain fuzzy and your heart swell.

That reason was Joaquin Torres.

You met Joaquin through your cousin. There was an instant attraction between the two of you yet neither of you pursued each other. If you had gone for Joaquin, you would not have created the world you had with Bucky. So when your feelings for Joaquin grew stronger than your feelings for Bucky, you knew you had to take action before someone got hurt.

Contrary to your belief, no one got hurt. You were transparent with Joaquin about your status with Bucky, and he understood. When you revealed to Bucky your feelings for Joaquin, he too understood.

“Listen, angel, I know you. You know what you want in your life and you don’t let anything get in the way of that. I do love you, but who am I to stand in the way of living the life you want. You’ve let people tell you how to live your life for so long and now it’s my turn to stop that cycle. If this is what you want, don’t let me stop you.”

You and Bucky shared beautiful memories over the 10 months of being together, but the words he said to you on August 8, 2023 will always be ingrained in your brain for the rest of your life. That night was the last time you spoke to him and saw his face, even though it was over a video call.

“I’m grateful for having you in my life,” you confessed to him, trying not to cry. You couldn’t figure out if it was because you were surprised this conversation went way better than you thought or because you were saying goodbye.

Bucky grinned, “No need to get all sappy on me, angel.” You shared a final laugh together. “Well, if you ever find yourself in the city, you know where to find me.”

Part of you wanted to make a joke about how you’d run into him at the bar where you met, but you stopped yourself. Instead, you replied:

“You got it, Buck.”

And that marked the end of you and Bucky.

You and Bucky’s love was never meant to fail. Yet it was never meant to succeed. Perhaps it was just meant to simply exist.

But who knows, maybe that fateful night in August was not the end. Only time could tell. That was the beauty of time and the universe. You can plan and make certain choices, but ultimately, the universe will lead you to where you’re meant to be.

Now, it’s September 21, 2023. No, Bucky is not in the picture, but your thoughts are with him.

Do you remember? Yes, you remember. You always will.

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

#bnsummersendoff #bucky barnes #winter soldier #sebastian stan #tfatws #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #angst #fluff #reader insert #no y/n

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mrs-bucky-barnes106 · 9 months

Text

Masterlist

✿°•∘ Bucky Barnes ∘•°✿

Couch

Balcony

Cute

10 Things I Hate About You

10 Things I Hate About You Pt. 2

Renegade

Escape

Forever Winter (Pt. 1)

Sweet Nothings

Good Morning

Lover

Locked Out

headcanons pt. 1

headcanons pt. 2

headcanons pt. 3

headcanons pt. 4

✿°•∘ Steve Kemp ∘•°✿

Fresh

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onceuponastory · 1 year

Text

home for christmas - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: When it doesn’t look like Bucky will make it home in time for Christmas, he promises to make it up to Y/N. Pairing: TFATWS Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: A few small mentions of Bucky’s past, but other than that it’s just sickly sweet fluff. But, as always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: This was written as part of a Secret Santa fic exchange for the Thot Neighbourhood discord server. I drew @breakablebarnes, TFATWS Bucky, the dialogue prompt: “But I’ve been such a good girl” and the festive device of some hot cocoa. I hope you like your fic!

Not beta’d, so all mistakes are my own. Thank you to @thesundrop / @astartothemoon for my divider!

“Come on Bucky, are you sure you can’t?”

“Yes.”

“It’s just-”

“I know. But I’m sorry Y/N, no. I can’t. We’re under pretty strict orders here.” He sighs, and Y/N can just picture the look of disappointment on his face. No doubt his mirrors hers perfectly.

“But I’ve been such a good girl!” Y/N exclaims. Her words make Bucky stop before he can even think of a comeback, and Y/N regrets her word choice right away. “Okay, maybe that one was too much. Seriously though, you’ve been working really hard these past few months, and it’s almost Christmas. Are you sure you can’t be home sooner? I don’t want you overworking yourself.” A sigh sounds on the other end of the phone. However, it’s not an angry or frustrated sigh. It’s a disappointed one. One that makes Y/N feel guilty.

She honestly doesn’t mean to pester him so much. After all, she knows Bucky is trying his best to get Tony to change his mind and let them go home early. And of course, she knows that Bucky’s work as an Avenger is incredibly important, far more than her job could ever be. She’s so proud of him for going out and saving the world, the same world that only a few decades ago treated him so horribly. Now, he can show everyone he’s the hero that she knew he always was, and prove that his past doesn’t define him.

Still though, Y/N doesn’t want him overexerting himself to prove that he’s worthy of everyone’s forgiveness. The missions have been getting longer, and she’s often received text messages from Bucky all hours of the night, making her even more worried about her boyfriend’s sleep levels. Even though he pretends to be strong, she can tell how tired he is, and see how his past still affects him. Bucky’s the kindest, bravest soul she knows, and she just wishes he believed in himself more, and saw himself as the person she knows he is. Someone kind and loving, despite everything that he’s been through. In her mind, he doesn’t need a thousand missions under his belt to prove that he’s a hero. But until then, she’ll tell him what a wonderful person he is as much as she can.

If worrying about Bucky’s health wasn’t enough for her, this mission seems like it’s been going on forever. She misses not having him around, having him sleeping next to her and having his smiling face as the first thing she sees when she wakes up and the last thing she sees before she falls asleep. Especially now, in the run up to the festive period, it’s torture to be so far away from Bucky. Honestly, it feels like he’s barely home nowadays. Sure, as the girlfriend of an Avenger she knows that she signed up for this life…but that doesn’t mean that she can’t hate it.

“I’m sorry Y/N, but I can’t. Tony says we’ve still got some work to do here, so it’ll still be a few weeks before we can go home.” Her heart sinks, and she feels her entire body slump in disappointment. “I know. I hate it too.” Bucky says, as if he can feel her pain through the phone. He’s good at that: noticing that something is wrong with her and providing love and support before she even knows something is wrong. To her, that’s even more proof of what a good person Bucky Barnes is, and it shows he was never the monster HYDRA made him to be. And it also makes her love and miss him even more. “You know, I’ve been talking about you so much that I think Sam and Steve are going crazy.” She giggles at that, and Bucky does too. “God, I miss that noise so much. I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too.”

“You’re my favourite person in the world. Don’t you ever forget that.”

“Like I could ever forget. You say it to me every time we call.” She reminds him, sniffling a little. Despite how upset she is and how much she misses Bucky, Y/N curses a little at herself for crying. She’d never want Bucky to feel bad for not being able to come home sooner, or for him to think that she resents being with him. Because she loves Bucky Barnes more than anything in the world. A bit of distance won’t change that.

“Doesn’t stop it from being true, though.” She hears a noise on the other line, and Bucky sighs. “I better go. Tony’s shouting something, and you know what he’s like when he’s kept waiting. Don’t want a repeat of last year’s New Year’s Eve party.” He chuckles. The mention of the happy memory makes Y/N's heart sink as her yearning for Bucky deepens. She knows he’s trying to cheer her up and mask his own disappointment, but she also knows that both of them can tell it’s not working. They'd rather be laughing and making memories together here at home, rather than miles apart from each other. And she doesn’t even know when they’ll be able to do that again.

“I swear these phone calls get shorter every week.” She sighs.

“I know. If I can, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He tells her before the call disconnects. And then, he’s gone. And once again, Y/N is alone.

A week later, Y/N comes home after another long day at work. The closer it gets to Christmas, she’s just as busy as Bucky. Bucky. Another pang hits her stomach at the thought of her boyfriend. Thankfully, they’ve spoken more on the phone since that call last week, and being so busy preoccupies her slightly. But that doesn’t mean she’s missing him any less. Christmas is almost a week away, and there’s still no word of when Bucky will be home. Hopefully, it’s sooner rather than later.

As she steps closer into her house, Y/N suddenly feels the hair on the back of her neck sticking up. Something seems off. When your boyfriend and most of your best friends are Avengers, you know a lot about personal safety and self defence. And that means that Y/N can tell immediately when someone’s been in her house. Her blood chilling, she steps closer into her hallway, rooting around in her bag for the panic alarm Tony gave her. She can almost hear Bucky’s voice in her head, telling her to just get out of the house and call for help. But when he left, she promised him she’d be brave, and there’s no better time to be brave than confronting an intruder on her own. As she nears her living room, Y/N’s heart is thumping so loudly it might break out of her chest. She takes a breath, expecting to see the room destroyed….

Yet, when she turns, Y/N sees the exact opposite. Her Christmas lights are all on, filling the room with a soft glow. Her fairy lights have also been strung up, adding even more light. An array of blankets, cushions and stuffed animals cover her couch. Everything looks so festive and cosy. Y/N walks into the room, her mouth dropping open in surprise. “How did-”

“Oh fuck. I wasn’t expecting you to be home yet.” The sound of a voice almost makes her scream…until she realises who it belongs to. Bucky. She drops everything, rushing into his arms without another word, almost knocking the pair off their feet. “Oof! Hey you!” Bucky chuckles, kissing her temple as he tightly wraps his arms around her.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, her voice muffled by Bucky’s shirt. “You said Tony wouldn’t let you go.”

“Turns out the mission finished earlier than expected, so he let us go home early after all. I thought I'd surprise you as an early Christmas present.” He explains, rubbing his hands across her back.

“I’m so glad to see you. I missed you so much.” She whispers.

“I missed you too.” They both hold each other close, grasping the other tightly. After so long spent apart, all they want is to keep each other close and to never let go. “That’s not the only surprise, though.” Bucky admits. Y/N frowns.

“There’s more? Buck, you didn’t have to. Having you home for Christmas is all I ever wanted.”

“I know. But you’re my best girl, and I promised I’d make it up to you, didn’t I?” He asks, and she nods. She swears she’s the luckiest girl in the world to have Bucky in her life. He loves her so much, and he’s so giving. “We’re going to spend the night watching all your favourite festive movies. So you go sit down, and I’ll be right back.” He orders, kissing her cheek. A few minutes later, Bucky comes back holding a tray with two mugs and a big bowl of popcorn. Sitting down, he passes over a mug, and Y/N takes a sip. As soon as she tastes the warm cocoa with whipped cream and marshmallows, she moans happily. The noise makes Bucky burst into laughter, and despite how much she wants to tell him to shove off for laughing at her, the sound makes her insides go all warm and gooey. Despite being called the Winter Soldier and the grumpy front he puts up in front of most people…Bucky is like sunshine personified more often than he likes to think he is. Or, at least he’s like sunshine to her. And maybe that’s all that matters.

As Bucky wraps one of the many blankets around them, his hand finds hers underneath it, and he gives it a squeeze. “Merry Christmas Y/N. I love you.” He whispers, smiling. Instead of replying with words at first, Y/N kisses him. The kiss is soft at first, but deepens as all the pair’s longing for each other is released. Bucky’s tongue slips between her lips, and the flavours of chocolate, cream and marshmallows dance across their tongues as his stubble brushes against her chin. The kiss is perfect, like a wish come true. And this one is well worth the wait. It’s so good to finally have him home.

“I love you too.” She whispers. “So much.”

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#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #breakablebarnes #tis the season to be thot-y #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky x Female Reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #tfatws bucky #the thot neighbourhood

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clacefe · 2 years

Text

Lifeline

Helmut Zemo x gn!reader

Summary: Your husband comforts you after a terrible experience.

Warnings: Descriptions of sexual assault, hurt & comfort.

(This happened to me a couple of months ago, and I didn't have a Zemo to comfort me. Please, if you have any troubles regarding SA, my messages are open.)

You did your best to hold in your hiccups as you walked back to your shared apartment. Your form was trembling slightly as you clutched your handbag closer to you; a form of security, perhaps even comfort.

With every look a random man on the street gave you as you passed them, you immediately turned your head and started walking a bit faster. Once your apartment building got into view, you almost ran to the front door.

You spammed the lift button, praying it’d come sooner than usual. The doors opened smoothly with a ding, and you dove in, immediately pressing the button of the uppermost floor.

Your breathing started to pick up again, the metal box appearing smaller and smaller with each inhale. The doors couldn’t have opened soon enough, and your hands shook as you tried to find your keys.

Your legs gave out on you, and you slid down the wall, gasping for breath. Your eyes caught the glint of the doorbell, and praying that Helmut was already home, you rang it. Again. And Again.

You were about to push it for the fourth time, until your husband opened the door, mumbling about the impoliteness of the person ringing the bell.

But then he saw you, eyes red-rimmed and body shaking. He immediately crouched next to you and started talking. You saw his mouth move but couldn’t understand what he was saying. It felt like you were underwater, drowning, unable to hear, unable to breathe with just the burn in your lungs accompanying you.

“Helmut,” his name escaped your mouth with a whimper, it being the only thing you’re able to say.

The moment that he picked you up from the floor, you looped your arms around his neck, burying your head there as well.

He sat down on the couch with you in his lap. Being in his arms made your breathing even out a bit. Like the water was being pulled out of your lungs, and you could finally breathe again.

“Mīla, what happened?” his voice was dripping with concern.

You closed your eyes tightly, the pit in your stomach deepening as you recalled what happened.

“I- I was on the metro, like usual, you know? Of course with me being stupid, I took it during rush hour. And well, it, uh, it was packed. The- the man behind me–” you had to stop, screwing your eyes shut and burying your head once again in Helmut’s neck.

His grip tightened on you, and after inhaling deeply, he asked, “What did he do, mīlulis?”

“He- he started grinding his… his–” You burst out in tears again, clinging to your husband as if he was your lifeline.

Zemo didn’t need to hear anything more, he understood what happened, and he was murderous. But the killing could happen at a later date, right now he had a wife to take care of.

He put his finger under your chin and tilted your head to meet his gaze. The tears swimming in your eyes made him want to hide you away from this cruel world.

“Oh, mīla, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. But I’m here now. How about I run you a bath?”

You nodded silently, wanting that disgusting man’s touch off of your body.

You held his hand tightly as he led you to the lavish bathroom in the penthouse. He set you down on a stool near the bath and opened the faucet, letting hot water rush down.

Then he turned to you and gently started to undress you, opening the buttons of your blouse one by one and letting it slide down your shoulders. Once you were fully rid of clothing, he took your hand and helped you sit down in the bath.

He started with your favourite soap first, the smell soothing you as well as his touch. Then he used the shampoo, and in no time you were towelled down and ushered into the softest pair of pyjamas you owned.

You two lay down on the king-sized bed, the sheets rustling beneath you. For a moment, there was only silence. Just the two of you, and nothing else.

“It’s all my fault,” you whispered your voice hoarse, “if I’d just stayed half an hour extra at work…”

Helmut climbed on top of you and cupped your cheeks, “Hey, this isn’t your fault, you understand?”

You looked at him, still unconvinced.

He kissed your forehead. “You’re strong.”

Then your cheek. “And brave.”

He started trailing kisses all over your body, whispering encouraging things after each one.

And by the end of the night, as you lay naked next to your husband, you couldn’t help but feel that he was right after all of his loving touches.

#helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo x y/n #helmut zemo x you #zemo x y/n #zemo x reader #zemo x you #zemo imagine #baron zemo #oneshot #comfort #hurt/comfort #marvel #marvel mcu #tfatws #falcon and the winter soldier

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thesugarclubs-blog · 1 year

Text

You Rescued Me - AU Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: TFATWS Bucky Barnes, strangers to lovers, pure cat!dad Bucky fluff

word count: 9.5k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1319637159-you-rescued-me-lottie

Masterlist

Bucky felt the corner of his eye twitch as Sam droned on and on. Something about how he couldn’t keep living by himself with his plants forever. Like his life was any better. The man went on one date with his nephew's teacher and suddenly had all the advice in the world. His deep blue eyes bore into his friend, as his mind wandered to what he wanted to make for dinner, the metal of his arm whirring as his fingers flexed in the pocket of his tight leather jacket.

The cool March air swirled around them as people bustled about the streets of New York. Murmurs of oh my god it’s Captain America echoed through the wind as the two men stood there on the busy sidewalk.

“Man, are you even listening to me?” Sam’s hand impacted his shoulder and brought Bucky back to the present.

His tongue pushed into his cheek and his eyes narrowed, “Something about my sad, lonely life, I don’t know”

“You gotta do something here! Find some friends, take off to Vegas, go outside!” Sam continued.

“I have friends,” Bucky retorted.

“Your old neighbour doesn’t count,” Sam clicked his tongue and crossed his arms over his chest, “Look, okay? Start simple! There’s an animal shelter two blocks from here, just go in and see what happens”

Bucky narrowed his eyes and swiped his tongue along his bottom lip as he studied Sam. Having a pet was never something he had even thought of for himself. After the blip and getting his life back together, he still felt as though he was figuring himself out as a normal person. Well, as normal as a 106-year-old super soldier could be.

“If I do this, will you shut up and leave me alone about my plants?” He questioned.

Sam smirked and placed his hand over his heart, “cap’s honor”

With a dramatic groan, Bucky turned on his heel and practically stomped away from Sam, sucking in a deep breath of the fresh, cool air. This was a ridiculous venture and he had already decided that it was going to be a bust, but if it got Sam off his back, it would be worth it in the end. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, keeping his annoyance at the forefront of his emotions.

A bright yellow sign that hung above the street came into his view. There were big swooping letters that read “Wags & Whiskers Animal Rescue” with a big paw print in deep brown and small white flowers littering the negative space. Bucky ran his hand into his short dark hair, and sucked in a sharp breath as he reached for the fake-bone door handle.

It was ridiculously kitsch inside, all cheerful colours and animal-themed decor. He hadn’t really known what to expect but he definitely hadn’t anticipated such a warm and welcoming space. He double-checked; yep, it was definitely the animal shelter. Steeling himself with a deep sigh, Bucky walked up to the wide yellow counter and looked around for a member of staff. Seeing none, he reached out and pressed on the buzzer, which let out an electronic *meow*.

A few moments later a door opened to the right of Bucky and a beautiful blonde with a wide and bright smile walked out and stepped behind the counter.

“Welcome to Wags & Whiskers Animal Rescue. My name is Lottie. How can I help you today? Are you looking to volunteer or adopt?” She beamed at him.

Bucky's brows furrowed slightly, unsure of how to match her enthusiasm he cleared his throat and mustered up his best smile.

"Hi, um I guess adopt."

He watched on as she raised a brow in amusement, her smile growing wider.

"You guess? Are you here against your will? Blink twice for yes." she teased.

“It’s, uh—“ Bucky paused, unsure of how much to reveal of himself, “my friend suggested it, thought maybe I could use a companion… army vet.”

Vague enough, he thought, taking an awkward glance around to avoid the inevitable look of pity he’s usually met with.

When his gaze landed back on the sunny girl behind the counter, he almost did a double take. Poking out of her sweater, and staring at him inquisitively, was a little white cat.

Lottie shifted a touch, and the cat meowed in annoyance from the jostling. "Snow White here has an attitude." Lottie laughed, "can't seem to get her in a kennel or to play with the other cats."

Little sky blue eyes watched him carefully, something in the blue making his nerves settle a touch. He had seen that look before in a particularly skinny alley cat named Steve. It seemed Bucky had a long standing habit of making friends with the underdogs. Bucky pulled out his right arm from his jacket pocket and offered it to the cat, unsure of how animals even operated but it seemed he wasn't the only one nervous and in need of a friend. Lottie's lips parted to say something but she shut them quickly, confusion kissing her brows as Snow slinked from the safe confines of her sweater.

Without any seeming hesitation Snow made a big jump into Bucky’s arms, caught off guard he chuckled nervously. Lottie didn’t move as she watched the feline get comfortable against the leather of his jacket. Looking on at the sight she seemed completely unsure of what to say and blurted out, "your eye’s match. You're meant to be."

From his arms the cat quickly looked around before she crawled into the safety of Bucky's leather jacket - like she was hiding in a cave. Bucky felt her spin around a little before her head poked out of the opening on his chest. A soft purr could be heard coming from the white and fluffy head. Both ears straight in the air the fluffball looked around the shelter from the new perspective.

Bucky carefully raised his right hands and placed his fingertips on top of the cat's head, but the animal flinched a little and tilted her head upwards to sniff on Bucky's finger tips.

"She... she’s never done that with anyone before. She’s usually a little shy and bonded to me. We have a bit of a backstory together." Lottie smiled at the man in front of her.

"Oh really? I can relate to that. I am not good with people, either." Bucky murmured the last part and thought she hadn't heard him, but a laugh could be heard from the other side of the counter while he started to scratch behind the cat's right ear.

"Maybe you guys are meant to be after all." He heard the soft murmur from across the counter, absent-mindedly nodding his head in agreement as the cat's tiny purrs increased while its little wide eyes turned to focus on his face.

Staring down at the dainty white ball of fur, he felt his brain go a little fuzzy, but when his new friend nudged her tiny pink nose against his hand he melted into the floor.

“I…umm…I don’t think I can put her down anyway,” Bucky admitted, his cheeks turning a little rosy.

“Well you don’t need to,” Lottie smiled. “You can sign your name with one hand, right?

Bucky’s eyes looked back up at Lottie and he smiled nervously.

“I … yeah. Really? Right now? I mean that’s fast… don’t you need to do some kind of background check or something. I don’t even have anything at my place for a cat…” he spoke nervously and quickly.

Lottie giggled at his response as she began to pull out an assortment of papers and began placing them on the counter in front of her.She leaned against the counter, reaching her hand out to scratch Snow's chin and looked up to Bucky. The sparkle in her bright blue eyes and her soft, sweet smile stopped his rambling as his eyes locked with hers.

"No background checks, no. If Snow here trusts you, so do I," she mused, "As for the things she needs, I'll help you pick everything out right now. Think you can walk around with that precious cargo on you?"

Bucky glanced down at the soft source of warmth in his jacket, curiously sniffing him out and purring contently. When she noticed him observing her, she stilled and stretched a paw out, resting it lightly on the dimple in his chin.

He chuckled softly, feeling his guard lower, insides melting and all it took was the gentle touch of an animal — and a pretty girl looking at them like she’d never seen anything so adorable.

“Yeah, I think I can manage.” Bucky stammered, clearing his throat as he gestured to the papers. “Let me sign these and then you can lead the way.”

Bucky shifted Snow in his arms, looking down at her as Lottie pointed to the important parts. "What's your refund policy?" He said, meaning it to be a joke but realizing from the shocked look on Lottie's face he had done that rude thing with his voice that Sam always picked on. "I mean..." He forced a quiet laugh.

"I think she'd sooner refund you after that joke," Lottie smiled, a dimple forming on her left cheek that he surprisingly had the urge to touch and Bucky could feel the heat flushing up his neck. "You'll have to work on his delivery," she whispered to the cat playfully. "He's a little stiff."

Bucky laughed, "okay," he nodded, his tongue brushing over his bottom lip, "I deserved that."

His playful defeat tickled another smile out of her which he found was something he longed to bring out more often. Bucky didn't know what it was about this sweet looking woman that enticed him but he couldn't help but feel comfortable in her presence which to be completely honest scared him a little bit.

Scratch that, it scared him a lot.

After he had signed everything that Lottie showed him Bucky cleared his throat once again.

"So... uhm... can you show me what I need? Like a cat-owner-starter-pack?" he asked - his cheeks slightly blushed and his lips curled into a shy smile.

"Sure! Wait, I'll come around and show you." Lottie responded and stepped around the yellow counter. She passed Bucky and headed towards a shelf on the other side of the shop where Bucky could see food and water bowls in different sizes. The moment Lottie passed him, her hand slightly touched his left one that was covered in a cold leather glove. Something in Bucky's lower stomach moved, but he couldn’t manage to put his finger on it.

His steps faltered a little in the beginning because of the brief contact, afraid she might question the coldness before slowly focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. Her blonde hair swaying gently down her back caught Bucky's eyes as she kept moving and not paying attention to the man lost in his thoughts over how beautiful she was.

She stopped in front of one of the displays and he was so distracted by her hair that he almost ran into the back of her, only his enhanced reflexes saved him from knocking all three of them into the wall of bowls before them. He didn’t even need to look down to know his new companion was giving him a disdainful glare.

“Ok, here we have our selection of food and water bowls. Along with enrichment toys to hide treats in,” she said gesturing towards the display in front of them.

“Enrichment toys?” Bucky asked in confusion.

“Oh.. they’re great. Basically they’re a toy that you can hide treats in. Then your pet has to work on getting the food out. It helps a lot with fast eaters but also with pets that are quite smart and like a challenge. It keeps them entertained for ages and then they get rewarded with food.” She smiled. “You will also need a litter box, a kitty bed and a wide range of toys. Are you planning on letting her go outside like in a garden or will she be an indoor cat?” Lottie asked.

Bucky blinked, he had not realised he had to think about so much when adopting the soft bundle of fur that was nestled in his chest purring contently.

“Uh. Indoor, I guess. Not sure I trust the chaos that is New York,” Bucky replied, “unless… I mean, if she wants to explore then…”

“Snow here is a curious one, but I get that you don’t want to risk it. Maybe you could take her out every now and again like that,” she suggested with a soft smile and Bucky glanced down at the cat snuggled in his leather, “she looks pretty comfy in there, I’m almost jealous.”

Bucky cranked his head up so fast, he winced at the strain of the muscle he definitely just pulled doing so. The gorgeous smile and coy sparkle in Lottie’s eyes were worth it though, and Bucky felt his skin warm, no doubt pink from cheek to chest.

He was flirted with on the daily but it’d been a long time since he enjoyed it, or at least felt like he deserved that kind of attention.

Snow chittered loudly within his arms almost like she was laughing at him and stared up at him with a look that screamed, lovesick fool on it.

"If you're going to go exploring, you'll need this." She turned toward him with a long, dark blue braided leash in her hand. Looking at his full arms she leaned onto her tiptoes and hung the leash over his shoulder. Her warm, vanilla and spice scent filling his nose as she made sure it wouldn't fall, "might take her a couple tries to get used to it."

"Got it." Bucky muttered as Lottie smiled up at him cheekily almost buried in items for his new furry friend.

"Come on, I'll ring everything up and bag them for you." She said to him with excitement glittering in her eyes and a bright smile that Bucky found himself– albeit timidly, automatically returning.

Lottie urged him back to the counter, turning on her heel to head back while waving and cooing at the little animals in their little rooms along the wall. He followed, securing his hand under the small feline hidden in his jacket while his heart fluttered in his chest at the sight.

Bucky could feel his breath falter as he tried to come up with something else to say. This has been the most pleasant interaction he’d had with such a beautiful girl in a long time, and he found himself not wanting it to end. Even if it was about animals, a topic he hadn’t really been interested in until she started talking.

“So, uh, how long have you been doing this?” He questioned awkwardly.

Another soft chuckle left her pink plump lips, “about 6 years…” she answered quietly, “I was one of the lucky people who didn’t get blipped, and there were a lot of animals who’s owners did so I took them in. It started as just the animals in my building and then kind of grew into this place,” Lottie pressed her lips into a thin line and half smiled up at him.

“Beautiful and kind,” he muttered but then his eyes grew wide in panic at the tinkling sound of a giggle.

His gaze darted up long enough to see Lottie’s hand cover her mouth as she scrunched up her nose in amusement before he decided that the worn spot on the tiles near his feet demanded his utmost attention.

“I didn’t…I mean, I…” Bucky stammered.

“No, it’s ok. Now let’s get you all checked out so we can get you and little miss Snow home.” Lottie said as she blushed a little and began to scan all of the items that she helped him pick out and put them into some bags.

“I’ll also put in our info packet for kitty care and how to help settle your new pet. Our phone number is there if you need to reach us.” She smiled as she placed the info packet into the bag before placing it on the counter.

It took Bucky a second to retrieve his wallet from his pocket, careful not to jostle his new friend too much.

A swipe of his card (he’s still getting used to that) and one appreciative meow later, Bucky grabbed the bag of cat goodies as Lottie came back around the counter.

“Well, you’re all set. I hope you and Snow have a very happy life together…”

“Bucky, my name’s Bucky.”

“Bucky,” Lottie smiled, “I’m glad you found your match today.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. For all your help.”

With a nod of his head, Bucky turned to the door with a spring in his step. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Sam’s face.

The walk back to the apartment was full of soft mewls from Snow and concerned grunting from Bucky, "you okay in there?" He asked at a crosswalk, peering down at the cat hidden in his jacket. The old lady standing next to him gave him a strange look and shifted over on the sidewalk.

"Oh no its..." he bit the inside of his cheek and looked up to the side laughing at himself. He probably looked ridiculous and now he was talking to himself.

"Haven't even had you for half an hour and you're embarrassing me." Bucky paused and smiled to himself. "You'll get along pretty well with Sam, I guess."

He headed up to his apartment and pushed the door open. Bucky usually kept his place tidy. He told himself it was a habit from being in the Army, but realistically, his cell at the Hydra facility was filthy. Bucky never wanted to live like that again. So, he spent days scrubbing at his kitchen and bathroom tiles with a toothbrush and making sure everything was as clean as it could possibly be.

But keeping himself occupied with all of that cleaning didn't take away the loneliness.

He hated when Sam was right.

Bucky looked down at Snow as he shut the door behind him and turned on the hall light for the first time in months. The place already felt a little brighter with her in it. He smiled as she peered up at him from his jacket, already purring.

"It ain't much, little one, but it's home."

He pulled down the zipper of his jacket to let Snow out of the confines of the garment. He lowered himself closer to the ground so that she could get out.

"Let me make this your home too." Bucky murmured as he pulled out each item out of the bag Lottie packed for him. Lottie…That one is gonna be stuck in his mind.

Shaking his head, Bucky watched as Snow explored her new surroundings, jumping onto the small coffee table and then onto the back of the couch. She batted at a throw blanket Sam had gotten him, with some joke about being frosty all the time or something that Bucky had ignored. With a small meow, her claws came out and caught the edge, leaving her tangled in the soft fabric.

"C'mon, kid," Bucky chuckled, pulling her paw free gently before tucking her into the crook of his elbow. "How about we stop tryin' to kill the blanket and get some food instead?"

Snow let out something like a snarl before settling into his arm, purring loudly as her eyes fluttered closed.

They entered the kitchen where Bucky had already placed the food and water bowl on a rubber mat to prevent the tiles from getting dirty every time the fluff ball would eat something.

He let her down on the floor again and Snow sneaked through his legs while forcefully rubbing her head against Bucky's muscular calves.

"Just because you're begging, doesn't mean you get your food faster, kiddo." he chuckled.

Lottie had given him two different sorts of canned cat food and Bucky grabbed a can of each and held it in front of Snow's tiny face.

"Chicken or Tuna?" he asked.

The little white fur ball butted her head against his dark metal fingers that held the tuna flavored can of food, overestimating her strength and falling backwards on her hind legs.

The little creature seemed startled by the position she found herself in with her wide eyes staring up at Bucky as a quiet chuckle left him at how silly she looked before helping her up.

"Okay, tough guy, here's your tuna."

He opened the can and carefully dropped its contents into her little pink, cat face-shaped plate while Snow looked at the can in what he felt was an offended look.

"What?" Bucky's eyebrows knit together as he stayed in a seemingly tough staring contest with the little cat until he figured out what might be wrong. He rolled his eyes as he picked up the dish and mashed it with a fork, before grabbing the bag of tuna treats Lottie had given him, and placing one on top.

He cocked his eyebrow at the cat, setting the dish back down in front of her, "sorry your majesty, is that better?"

Snow stretched her two front paws out in front of her giving him a giant yawn, as she flicked her tail at him and sauntered over to the dish, sniffing it quickly before deciding to eat. Bucky felt the corners of his lips turn up as he shook his head and turned to open his fridge and decide what he was going to feed himself.

“It’s alright for you Princess, your food comes in cans. I gotta actually think about what to make,” he grumbled, looking down at cat again, as if waiting for a response.

“Suppose I could throw together one of those stir fry things from that cooking show,” Bucky continued, musing on the contents of his fridge.

A sharp pattering against the window made them both turn, the brightness of afternoon giving way to grey, thunderous clouds as rain began to fall.

“Looks like we made it home just in time,” he hummed.

With all of the contents he’d need to get his dinner ready set up on the countertop, he grabbed a knife and flipped it in his hand not realizing his small feline friend was following his every move.

Bucky smiled down at her intrigued look, tilting his head slightly to the side as hers was, “cool trick huh sweet girl?”

She meowed loudly in response, “well I don’t know about you flipping knives but we’ll work on other tricks for ya, yeah?”

The kitten pawed at his socked foot as if she understood his every word, he leaned down to scratch her chin and whispered, “you’re gonna be trouble aren’t you…”

He washed his hands and began his cutting process, ears finely tuned already to her every move, her calm breaths and the way her paws softly pounded on the floor as she ran. His mind drifted off to Lottie back at the shelter, he wondered how the rest of her day was and if she had started to miss the kitten. Maybe they’d go visit her once in a while so she could see she was safe with him and growing happily, maybe it’ll also give Bucky the courage to have longer conversations with her.

A soft rhythmic knock on the door interrupted his musings and he furrowed his brows, wiping his hands on the towel beside him before he walked to the door. When he looked through the peep-hole he was surprised to find Lottie dripping from head to toe in rain as she stood on the other side.

“Lottie?”

She smiled big and bright just as she had this morning waving a small plush toy in front of Bucky as she imitated a meow, “meow owww,” Lottie stared back at Bucky cheeks turning red as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

He heard her whisper, “nice Charlotte, embarrass yourself in front of the hot vet” and chuckled. A wave of confidence ran through him and he reached his hand to her forearm, calling her attention.

“I thought it was cute.” he voiced with a smile.

“Well, there’s more where that came from— no, shit, sorry. Uh, I was just dropping this off, you left it at the shelter, so… hope you don’t mind that I got your address from the forms,” she handed him the toy, all whilst Bucky watched, amused. “Anyway, that’s all— see ya around, Bucky.”

She turned on her heel, seemingly attempting a quick getaway but Bucky called her name, striding forward as she spun back to face him and landed with a soft ‘oof’ into his chest.

She let out an awkward giggle and mumbled apology as Bucky steadied her with quick grasp on her dripping sweater sleeve.

“Lottie, it’s raining cats and dogs out there, at least come in until it stops, dry off a little. I’m sure the little terror will be pleased to see you again.”

Lottie turned pink but Bucky couldn't tell if it was from his suggestion or the coldness of the rain seeping through her clothes and into her skin.

"Come on, I think I got something dryer that'll fit you." He said, pulling away from her and heading towards his closet looking for something warmer for her to put on.

He really wished he had the chance to do laundry, rummaging around looking for a henley but not finding a single one. He groaned at the only clean sweater in the whole apartment, grabbing it begrudgingly before turning around and handing it to her.

"Wow..." Was all Lottie had to say when she held it up. "Didn't know you were a fan of Captain America,” she giggled.

"The old one, not the new one. I think he's a bit of a jerk." Bucky said flatly, desperately wanting to punch Sam in the face for gifting him the ridiculous sweater.

"Sam?" She laughed rubbing the sweater between her fingers.

Bucky's suspicious expression gave away his thoughts, of course Sam knew Lottie. There's a shelter, two blocks from here, just go in and see what happens. "That smug asshole," he laughed under his breath.

"He volunteers his time, walks the dogs..." Lottie still stood with her wet sweater hanging over her shoulders and her eyes on the sweater. "I can't," she handed it back.

"Lottie," Bucky forced a tight smile and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "Thank you for bringing the toy but I bought her lots... why did you run through the rain for this one?"

Lottie sighed and Bucky's heart leapt into his throat as the kitten trotted out of the kitchen and did figure eights around Bucky and Lottie's ankles. Lottie looked at the toy that was clutched in his hand.

"That's her favorite toy. She's had it since she was rescued. I just... I think she'd be a little anxious without it." Lottie chuckled. Bucky could see just how much she cared about these animals. A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed thickly. "Or I'm overthinking and--"

"You're not," Bucky whispered. "This is really sweet. Thank you."

The two of them stood in awkward silence for a while, and Bucky stared too long. He always stared too long. But she was gorgeous, her nervous eyes flicking all around his apartment. Suddenly, he became self-conscious about the fact that he didn't wipe down the baseboards like he said he would last week. He ran a hand through his hair and she let out an awkward chuckle. Bucky cleared his throat as Snow trilled and used his leg as a scratching post. He grit his teeth through the pain of her little razor claws sinking into his jeans.

"Uh, listen, I was just about to make dinner--"

"Oh! I'll get--"

He held a hand out. This might be his only shot.

"No! Uh, I was wondering if you-- uh, if--" Barnes, you're cooler than this, he thought. He cleared his throat and tried again, his cheeks hot with embarrassment. She was so pretty he didn't want to screw this up. Or seem like a weirdo. "I was wondering if you wanted some food? I could put your sweater in the dryer. I have beer-- or soda! I-- if you-- don't like... uh, beer. That's--"

He could almost hear Sam laughing at him all the way from his apartment. Lottie smiled.

"You got somewhere where I can get changed?"

Bucky felt himself blush even further as he cleared his throat and nodded. "Uh... Down the hall, first door on the left is my bedroom. You can change in there. Just give me your sweater when you're done, and I'll put it in the dryer." He watched as she smiled at him before turning and silently going down the hallway.

I really don't want to mess this up.

A sharp meow came from Bucky's feet and he looked down at Snow with a sigh.

"What?" He asked, blue eyes going as wide as his tiny counterpart. "She's really pretty, okay? Get off my back."

As Bucky walked back to the kitchen, all the dates he had ever picked up back in the day flashed through his mind. He wished for just a minute he could channel some of that carefree demeanor that poured from him before the war. This wasn't something Bucky made a habit of, but Lottie made it a little easier, with her warm smile and bright eyes. He felt a prickle of warmth in his chest and the corner of his mouth turned up as Lottie stepped out from the bedroom.

"Okay, so this thing is freaking HUGE. Not all of us are giant super strong guys so it might look weird."

She shuffled back into the kitchen, her leggings peeking out from under the oversized sweater. Bucky's brain misfired seeing this gorgeous girl in his clothes, standing in his kitchen. A cold nose bumping against his arm snapped him out of his own head as Snow jumped onto the counter.

"Um, you look great," Bucky stammered. "I mean, it looks great! The sweater. It's...great."

To avoid things getting possibly more awkward, he quickly stepped into the kitchen to finish the stir fry for him and Lottie.

She was leaning on the wall and he could feel her gaze on his back.

"You said it's her favorite toy." he pointed to the plush toy that was in her hands again before he continued: "Why's that? It looks like a regular plush toy for children."

"It's a special plush for kittens." she carefully started. Bucky turned around while stirring a spatula around the pan in front of him.

"A special one?" he asked curiously.

"Yeah. You know... Snow had a rough start. I found her almost frozen to death before I started a shift in early January. Her mother gave birth to four kittens right in front of the shelter but because it was freezing that night, only Snow and the mom survived. The others..." her voice broke at the end and she was incapable of finishing the sentence. Her eyes glistened with tears - a single one escaped and trailed down her cheek.

Bucky stepped away from the pan and placed his flesh hand on her forearm in an assuring gesture. He mumbled "I’m sorry to hear that."

"It was horrible. Snow was with her mom in the beginning, but we found someone to adopt her mom a week later. I tried to prevent it, because the kitten still needed her but I needed the space for other stray cats that were coming into the shelter the other day. The plush imitates the feel of the mother cat. I’d heat it up so that the tiny kitten could snuggle with it and feel safe. She also needed it for orientation as her eyes were still closed in the beginning. Snow got so used to the smell of the plush that she only slept peacefully while her head was resting on it. That's why I thought I should bring it here. So that she would be able to sleep."

“Oh wow,” Bucky whispered, gazing down at his tiny companion with glassy eyes. “She sure has been through a lot.”

“Yeah, she has,” Lottie nodded. “She survived the freezing cold, being pulled away from everything she knew. I hoped the plushie would help.”

She smiled as she saw the way Bucky looked at the kitten. “But now she’s got you.”

Bucky looked over at the little kitten who was looking up at Lottie and eyeing the plush toy in her hands. He couldn’t help but feel an even deeper connection to her surviving the freezing cold all alone. His mind wandered back to the cold mountain when he fell off the train.

“I think me and her have a lot in common. Is she attached to the name Snow? Because I have a different name in mind if that’s ok. It still sticks with the snow theme” He asked, looking back up to Lottie.

“I’m sure she won’t mind,” Lottie smiled softly, “what were you thinking?”

Bucky turned down the heat, the stir fry pretty much done, and rested his back against the counter. Lottie’s eyes tracked his movement, he could sense that without looking, her gaze warm and head tilted with intrigue.

“Um… Alpine?”

Lottie’s features softened more, if that was even possible and Bucky could swear her eyes were glistening.

“I think that’s perfect, Bucky. She’s a lucky kitten.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm, I think… despite Sam’s obvious influence that led you to my shelter today, Alpine would have waited for you even if you hadn’t followed his advice straight away.”

Bucky smiled, hiding the lump in his throat. He would not get emotional in front of the pretty girl.

“It really fits her.” Lottie’s voice was barely above a whisper as they both continued to watch her bat at some crumbs on the counter. She was surprisingly graceful for such a young kitten.

Bucky glanced at the beautiful woman in his kitchen and saw a few tears glistening on her rosy cheeks.

“Thank you for introducing us,” Bucky offered. A warm smile pulled at his lips and he immediately felt warm.

Lottie chuckled and wiped the tears away with the sleeve of his large sweater. “Are you talking to me, or Alpine?”

Bucky’s cheeks burned. If it was a joke, it was hilarious. If she was still flirting… he was in trouble.

“Well, uh,” he cleared his throat and chuckled. “I guess both of you.”

She smiled back at him, eyes warm and full of hope. Hope. Bucky could use some more of that in his life.

The room was silent for a beat, both of them grinning like fools, before he opened the cabinet and grabbed two plates. “Let’s eat, yeah?”

Bucky carried the plates to the table, setting them both down in front of a chair and not realizing just how close Lottie was following him. When he turned, they bumped into each other and he felt himself flush red when she giggled at his nervousness.

"Sorry," He mumbled, putting some space between them and quickly grabbing one of the chairs, pulling it out for her to sit in.

It was a force of habit, an old habit, but chivalry had not been one of the things he lost in the fall, just his smoothness and ability to not turn into mush by a sweet smile and melodic laugh.

"M'lady." He teased, as she sat with a beaming grin splattered across her face and he pushed in the chair for her.

“Thank you kind sir,” Lottie giggled, and Bucky felt his insides warm at the sound, light and happy. He walked back to the kitchen, grabbing the pan with the food, setting it on the table with a warming pad beneath it. As he sat down, he gestured for Lottie to go first. There was a clicking noise from above them and all the lights went out, plunging them into darkness.

“What the- Damn rain must’ve knocked the power out. Hang on, I’ve got a flashlight somewhere,” Bucky said, standing back up and feeling his way to the kitchen, searching through drawers. “Well, no flashlight but I got a few candles.”

"You need help?" Lottie asked.

"No, no." He found a few candles and a box of matches. "I wouldn't want you to burn yourself." He winced, realizing how patronizing that sounded. "I mean--"

"It's okay, Bucky," Lottie chuckled. "It's your apartment."

He smiled at her over his shoulder, the moonlight lighting up part of the room. Bucky fiddled with the matches for a moment, snapping it against the striker and trying to get the damn thing to light up.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered.

He heard Lottie's chair slide out and suddenly felt her right next to him. She reached out and placed her hand over his metal hand. He swore he could feel sparks through the Vibranium.

"Might need a more delicate touch," she offered, her voice gentle and sweet.

Bucky was thankful that she couldn't see him blushing furiously in the dark as he relented and gave her the box of matches. He watched as she struck one and it lit up instantly, illuminating her gorgeous face.

"You just need a little patience," she whispered softly as she looked back to him.

Bucky was trapped in her gaze as the flames from the candle reflected in their blue depths and danced around. He felt as if she could ask him to drown in them and he would. No questions asked.

It must've been seconds but they felt like lifetimes and just as he felt the pull between them grow stronger he saw her tongue sweep across her bottom lip before she turned away from him, hiding behind a curtain of hair dried hair to light the rest of the candles.

"All done," she told him as she lit all four candles and set the one in her hand on the counter.

"Thank you."

He honestly didn't know what he was thanking her for. He doubted it was for lighting the candles when he couldn't. It was more because since he walked into the shelter this afternoon, Lottie had saved him in a whole new way.

They made their way back to the table carrying the candles and sat down to eat. He watched apprehensively as she took a bite.

“Wow, this is delicious.” She said, looking at him. He let out a sigh of relief.

“Really, well I’m glad you like it.” He smiled as he took a bite of the food himself. They fell into a comfortable silence as they ate their food.

“So,” Lottie started, setting her fork down on her plate. She smiled at him through her lashes. Bucky gulped as the flames of the candles threw shadows against her face. She was somehow even more beautiful in this light.

“He cooks, he’s good with animals, and he’s friends with Captain America. You are quite a catch, sir.”

Bucky was sure his cheeks were melting with how hard he blushed. Was this really happening? Maybe he got hit by a bus on his way home and he died and went to heaven. Or maybe Sam spiked his drink and he’s dreaming.

He scoffed to himself since the serum would leave him virtually unscathed in both of those situations. He took a deep breath and exhaled, setting his fork down as well.

“You’re not too bad yourself, Lottie.” He winced as he heard the words leave his mouth. He wanted to kick himself under the table for that one.

“Some would disagree,” Lottie replied, voice a little quiet and eyes cast down at her plate, “but I’ll take it from you,” she added lightly.

Bucky frowned and set his fork down, hackles raised.

“Whoa, no. What do you mean ‘some would disagree’? Because from where I’m sitting, anyone would be lucky to have someone like you.”

“Bucky, that’s sweet but—“

“Sweetheart,” Bucky wasn’t sure where the fight in him was coming from, but the thought of anyone thinking Lottie — sweet, gorgeous Lottie who ran through a downpour to deliver a beloved cat toy — wasn’t good enough, made him want to do something to make her believe different.

“According to a few of my exes, I spend too much time at the shelter,” she revealed, before a smile bloomed across her lips. “But it’s my happy place so screw them, huh?”

"Animals are better than men anyway." Lottie laughed, her blue eyes shining and that wonderful grin remaining plastered across her face although her brows furrowed when she realized she had sort of just insulted him.

"Well, you just haven't met the right man yet." Bucky said much lower than he anticipated, much more breathy and like a whisper.

Lottie seemingly froze in her seat, like the air had been stolen from her as she turned bright red and bit her lip in the most adorable way.

"Does he have a cat?" Lottie asked, and Bucky chuckled.

"You know, astonishingly he does. You see, he wasn't really looking for companionship at first, just decided he would try to get a friend off his back about his houseplants. But then there was this little thing with glorious blue eyes and well..." Bucky sighed, talking both about Alpine and her.

“It’s always the ones that grump the most about getting a pet that end up loving them the hardest,” Lottie smiled, and Bucky felt himself melt just a little more even as he tried to look shocked.

“I’ve never been grumpy a day in my life,” he said, grin breaking through as Lottie snorted a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand to hide her giggles.

"Oh, really?" Lottie teased. "I might have to ask around to back that up."

Bucky put his head in his hands and groaned through laughter.

"God, please don't! Sam's gonna have a field day with it!"

He felt her gentle hand cover his and looked up. Lottie was smiling at him.

"Your secret's safe with me," she whispered. Bucky's smile mirrored hers and she gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. "And for the record, I don't actually think you're a grump. You've been pretty darn sweet to me today, and to Snow-- sorry, Alpine. Still getting used to it."

Bucky chuckled, feeling just how hot his cheeks and the back of his neck felt. Butterflies fluttered through his chest and every time he looked at Lottie, all he wanted to do was smile.

"Thanks for that. Sam really wouldn't let me live it down if you told him." He looked down as Alpine rubbed against his leg. "You can't tell him either, missy."

They ate in contented silence for a few moments, enjoying the warmth of the candles and each other.

"It's really cute how close you are already," Lottie smiled, pushing the rest of her food around on her plate. "But it makes sense."

"How?" Bucky asked through a mouthful of chicken, eyebrows furrowed mid bite and she let out a soft, tinkling giggle.

"Well because you're really cute too," she remarked without looking up and Bucky was now positive that he was dead or someone was playing a joke on him.

He actually choked on the piece of food he was chewing, coughing a few times as he felt his face flood with heat that he was pretty sure wasn't from the candles.

"Oh my god! Are you oka– I'm so sorry!"

Lottie’s panicked wide blue eyes focused on his face and Bucky heard the faint clatter of the fork she was eating with on the table while he tried to catch his breath. The sudden compliment had positively stunned him.

Bucky– the old, pre-war Bucky, once knew that he had the looks and the ability to charm the socks off any dame back in his day but now, now he felt inadequate. He didn't have the patience to try to strike up a conversation with anyone, even women.

His scars ran deeper than what his eyes saw reflected back in the mirror every morning.

And now this beautiful, incredibly kind woman was not only talking to him and making it seem all too easy, she was also flirting with him.

"I'm okay." He assured her after catching his breath and taking a generous sip of the water next to him while Alpine meowed loudly at his feet in what he thought was concern.

“Are you sure?” Lottie asked, looking at him as if she didn’t quite believe him.

“Yeah, my food just got stuck on the way down. No need to worry about me” he reached down and scratched Alpine between her ears.

The rain was still hammering against the windows outside, heavy drops illuminated by the candles on the table and the odd strike of lightning that had now decided to join in.

“Doesn’t look like it’s gonna stop any time soon,” Bucky commented, changing the subject.

“New York storms, huh?”

“Sorry you’re kinda trapped here.”

Lottie swallowed her last bite of food, pushing her plate to the side and reaching across the table for Bucky’s hand.

“How many times do I have to hint that I’m happy to be here, Bucky? That I like you.”

“Old man like me? Probably a few more before it sinks in.” He grinned, bashful but real as he watched Lottie’s face scrunch adorably into a giggle.

“I’m starting to think you’re just fishing for compliments. You are definitely not old. Worldly, maybe, and your eyes are definitely hiding like a thousand stories I’m dying to hear. But definitely not old.”

"My stories are... They're not the happiest." He told her truthfully, feeling his grin fade as he began to chew on the inside of his lip.

Lottie reached across the table, stroking the top of his hand gently before her small fingers wrapped around his metal ones, holding his hand completely unbothered by the fact that it wasn't flesh.

"We can write some happy stories together. It's what I do after all." She smiled joyfully and he couldn't help but chuckle.

"You write stories?" He questioned and she simply nodded.

"Well, I'm trying to, nothing published yet but I've got lots of ideas." She told him, her hand still in his.

"What kind of ideas?" Bucky asked, genuinely curious.

"Gentle romance, falling head over heels for a kind stranger." She said softly and he felt himself melting with every word she said.

"Does the love interest have a cat?" He wondered and the laugh she let out was beautiful, it filled his apartment and settled into the empty spaces.

“Just adopted one in fact,” she smiled and Bucky felt his heart stutter as she looked at him, blue eyes big and full of hope. “He picked out the best kitten, a real sweetheart, just like him.”

Bucky grinned back at her. "I think we're going to have some adventures." He looked down at Alpine just as she scratched at his jeans. "You've already had dinner. You cannot possibly be hungry."

"Sorry that I'm stealing all of your dad's attention, Alpine," Lottie said playfully, eyes shining as she watched Bucky scoop the little fur ball into his lap.

He grabbed a piece of his chicken, tearing a bite off and holding it up to Alpine's baby pink nose for inspection. After a few cautious sniffs, she took it from him eagerly, contented purrs and growls coming from her tiny body as she ate.

"So you said you write?" Bucky asked softly, smiling down at Alpine before looking back at Lottie as she nodded. "Well, I can read-"

"Whoa! No way!" Lottie exclaimed jokingly, enjoying the way Bucky's face scrunched up as he laughed.

"I mean," he replied with a giggle. "I can read anything you write...if you ever need another set of eyes."

"Especially eyes like yours," Lottie drawled.

Bucky felt lightheaded from all the blood rushing to his cheeks.

"You're killin' me, sweetheart," he sighed, taking a drink from his glass.

"Sorry," Lottie blushed. "You just get all pink and flustered...it's very cute."

"Yeah well, usually I'm the one doing the flusterin'."

Laughing, Lottie grabbed a piece of chicken from her plate and held it across for Alpine, who had finished Bucky's piece and seemed eager for more.

"Believe me, Sargeant," she whispered softly, looking up at him through thick lashes. "I am very flustered right now."

Bucky could have punched a hole through the wall with the burst of confidence that soared through him.

How was it possible that he could make Lottie flustered? He chuckled and wiped his hands down the front of his shirt. “This ol’ thing? You’re bluffing.”

Lottie’s jaw dropped, and a look of playful shock came across her face. “You trying to call my bluff, huh?”

Bucky eyed her thoughtfully. His gaze, whether he meant it to or not (he definitely did), flitted to her lips. They looked soft, plush and pink, and inviting as hell.

“You could always prove it,” Bucky smirked. He caught her eye, daring her to make a move.

“Or… you could fluster me some more, see the real fruits of your labour.”

Sometime during this conversation, Lottie’s chair had edged closer to Bucky’s. He could feel the warmth radiating from her as her fingertips danced up and down his arm.

The anticipation was killing him.

Which one of them had actually made the first move was completely unclear to Bucky. There was just the look of trepidation on her face along with the thought that he should do it first just so he could throw her into the same kind of tizzy as she had put him in.

Bucky leaned in slowly, eyeing the soft appearance of her lips but Lottie had done exactly the same after finding her courage.

He felt her stretch up to meet him, soft supple lips pressing gently against his, her vanilla spice scent filling his nose and making him a little dizzy. It was so tame, sweet and absolutely perfect that he couldn't help but bring his hands to her face, cradling her cheeks in his palms and pulling her back in when she went to move away.

There were a million butterflies in his stomach and he swore if they didn't keep their lips connected, they would all come bursting out of his mouth along with a flurry of thoughts about how he wanted her to stay with him, possibly forever.

Bucky couldn’t help smiling into the kiss, happiness bubbling over. He could feel Lottie doing the same and suddenly they were both grinning against each other’s lips, little laughs escaping them.

Bucky pulled back, bringing his metal hand up to brush a piece of hair back from Lottie’s eyes. She caught it in her hand, leaning her face against the palm, fingers stroking delicately over the back. Bucky felt his heart clench and Lottie looked up at him.

"That was..." She exhaled and took a deep breath.

"I hope it was okay," he chuckled. "I'm a little out of practice."

She placed a hand on his chest and Bucky drew in deep breaths to keep his heart from racing so much. It was useless. Every time he looked at her, his chest felt tight. Her eyes shone in the low light, and that smile could actually bring him to his knees.

"Well, we could always practice again if you feel like you need it."

Food long forgotten, Bucky gave Lottie a half smile before he leaned in again to run his lips over hers, hearing her gasp at his intrusion. He slowly moved his hand to rest on the back of her neck, weaving his fingers through her hair.

"I bet you make a really good teacher, doll."

Lottie smirked, biting her lip as she studied Bucky's face and leaned in once more.

"Let's find out."

He felt Lottie go soft as this second kiss grew deeper, his hands pulling her close as if she might float away without his help. When her tongue traced his bottom lip, Bucky groaned and let her in to explore, their kiss becoming hotter in the dim candle light.

He could taste the spice from the chicken mixed with the sweetness of the sugar from her coffee and the chapstick she put on earlier today. He was drowning in Lottie and never wanted to come up.

She was the one who finally relented, breaking the kiss and leaving them both breathless and blushing.

"Bucky, if that's you without practice..." Lottie breathed against his lips and he smiled, running a thumb along her bottom lip. "I might be the one who needs some lessons."

"Say yes to another dinner," Bucky whispered, rubbing his nose against hers. "And I'll teach you whatever you want."

He could feel Lottie vibrating with excitement and it suddenly dawned on him that what he said came out in a way he hadn't meant.

"I could teach you how to make stir-fry." He blurted out nervously, causing her to laugh and she placed a small peck on his nose.

"I'd like that a lot." She smiled, and just as she did, Alpine jumped from Bucky's lap where she had been snuggled throughout dinner and into Lottie's lap.

"Of course, that's if this little lady doesn't mind me sharing your attention." She giggled.

Bucky smiled, knowing his face reflected how calm and happy he felt, but he couldn’t hold back.

“I think that’s her way of asking you to come back too,” he said and Lottie laughed, scratching behind Alpine’s ears.

“How could I ever say no to such a plea?” she said, eyes twinkling before she sighed. “But I should probably get back to the shelter now, the rains nearly done, it sounds like.”

Bucky nodded. He really wanted to see her again. As soon as he could, or as soon as she had time. Lottie looked around and tugged at his sweater. Bucky reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Keep it," he replied. "You don't need a reason to come back, but..."

She beamed at him.

"I have three reasons. Sweater, cute cat, cute guy..."

Bucky blushed furiously and ran a hand through his hair.

"Listen, it would be ungentlemanly of me to let a lady walk alone at night. Can I walk you back to the shelter?"

He was never going to get used to the way her smile gave him butterflies.

"I would love that."

Bucky smiled and stood before reaching out for her hand just as an audible click reached his ears and they both began to blink rapidly. The power had been restored. "Well... talk about timing," he chuckled. "Let's get you back to the shelter sweetheart."

The walk back seemed much too short for Bucky's liking, but he couldn't stop smiling regardless. Lottie's presence had permanently drawn it onto his face, unable to brush it off if he tried. They talked as they walked, little comments about the neighborhood or Alpine, who peeked out from inside Bucky's jacket. His fingers tangled with Lottie's for the final block and for the first time in a long time, all the pieces seemed to be falling into place.

Lottie turned to him as they approached the shelter, the light above the sign reflecting off the water beneath their feet.

"Don't suppose we have time for one more practice session..." She sighed exaggeratedly, a small smirk on her lips.

Without a word, Bucky wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in for another kiss as she yelped. Her smile melted into his and so did the rest of the world until a tiny disgruntled mewl broke the spell.

"Sorry, baby," Bucky whispers.

"It's okay," Lottie smiles before he laughs.

"I was talkin' to the fluffball, Lottie," he grinned, earning him a shocked laugh and a slap to the arm.

She walked up the few steps to the door of the shelter, turning back and making Bucky's heart stop. Her glittering eyes, the wave of her blonde hair, the cute button nose, on top being kind and a little bit goofy? He'd truly hit the jackpot.

"Next time, I'm cooking, Barnes."

Bucky gave her a grin and shoved his hands in his pockets as she unlocked the door.

"Okay, but I'm not giving away anymore of my clothes."

"Damn it..." Lottie grumbled before smiling again.

The door opened up and Bucky felt lighter than he had since before...well, everything. Over one hundred years of life and he had to wait this long to find someone like her.

"What time you open?" Bucky gestured to the sign. "Might need someone to help out with all the other little guys."

"We open at 8, but I'm not opposed to opening earlier for a pretty face."

Bucky grinned brightly as he backed down the sidewalk, the comforting warmth of Alpine against his chest and Lottie still on his lips, for once looking forward to everything the morning would bring him.

"I'll be here at 7."

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urdepressedslut · 1 year

Text

I Get Scared Too

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You have a close call during a mission, and back at the compound Bucky seems to be distant and cold towards you.

♡ Warnings: angst, fluff, reader injury, mentions of gunfire, hints to anxiety attack

A/N: this idea was from a dream i had (im a lucid dreamer). i have been writing in a dream journal since elementary school, so you can imagine the dreams i have jotted down 😭

The mission hadn’t gone to plan, shocker, but everyone kept all their limbs and were able to walk back to the quinjet.

You had a close call, you didn’t see the previously passed out agent sitting back up raising his gun to your back. Obviously before he could fire somewhere vital, Natasha had taken him down, faltering his aim. Although the bullet had skimmed you deep on your hip.

It was hardly life threatening, but Natasha being a protective best friend, scolded you for being reckless. You knew her intentions were good, and that she cared about you, but it didn’t stop you from being annoyed at her treating you like a kid.

She eventually walked to the other side of the quinjet, leaving you to your thoughts. You thought you had done really well, taking down twice as many enemies than last time. But of course, everyone always focused on your flaws, what you had done wrong.

When the quinjet finally landed back at the compound, you were the first one out, having a slight limp from the discomfort in your hip. But otherwise didn’t mind it, you wanted to find your favorite person and tell them all about the mission.

“FRIDAY, where’s Bucky?” You called out to the air once you were inside.

“Bucky is currently in his room, Miss (Y/n).” She announced, making you smile in excitement.

The mission had only been a three day trip, but you had missed him the second you stepped on the quinjet.

Arriving at his door, you knocked three times, hearing shuffling from inside. The door swung open to reveal an unhappy looking Bucky, causing your smile to waver. Assuming he was just having a bad day, you smiled wider and stepped forward to hug him.

“Hi Buck, I missed you.” You mumbled into his chest, squeezing him tighter when you didn’t feel him hug back.

His body tensed, and immediately you released him and stepped back. You were confused at what was wrong, his face was cold. You were hurt that he hadn’t hugged you back, wondering if you had done something to make him mad.

“Missed ya too um... You should go (Y/n).” He spoke finally, his voice holding annoyance.

You blinked up at him and shook your head, fully confused now.

“Buck wha— what’s going on?” You asked hesitantly, anxious that Bucky was being so short with you so suddenly and you didn’t know why.

“Nothing, I just wanna be alone.” He told you, and your heart broke for two reasons.

One, the thought of Bucky having an episode and you weren’t here for him made your heart hurt.

And two, he always came to you when he was upset and the fact that he didn’t want you with him… It stung.

You stared at him as your eyes started to water, your bottom lip starting to quiver. Your heart ached, but you wanted to respect his need for space. You didn’t know what else to say, and considering the lump forming in your throat, you decided to keep it short.

“Alright yeah, of course. I’ll… See you at dinner then.” You told him, watching him retreat back into his room and slam the door, making you flinch.

You were frozen in place, staring at the door expecting him to come back out and tell you it was all a prank. But several minutes passed and you were still staring at the door.

_____________________

You pushed the food around on your plate, keeping your eyes casted down. You had tried to get Bucky's attention, ever since you watched with glossy eyes as he passed his usual seat next to you, and instead sat at the other end of the table. He was avoiding your direction and never attempted to make eye contact.

Bucky giving you the cold shoulder, being silent with you was extremely painful. Considering how well you two communicated and talked, you were the one who had brought him out of his shell. It hurt so bad your chest ached physically.

Out of nowhere, you were slamming your fork down on the plate with a loud clank, causing everyones attention to snap to you.

"What's the matter with you cupcake?" Tony asked you, taking a sip from his wine glass.

Feeling embarrassed from everyones stares, you snuck a glance at Bucky at the end of the table, surprised when you met his concerned eyes.

You scoffed, shaking your head in bewilderment. He had no right to act concerned, after ignoring you. You almost felt bad for him, thinking he was having a bad day, but after you watched him chatter playfully at dinner with everyone, you realized it was only you he didn't want to speak to.

"Hello? Earth to (Y/n)!?" Tony announced, banging on the table to get your attention when he noticed you spacing out.

Everyone was concerned about you by now, all watching you carefully. You glared at Bucky and stood up without answering Tony, pushing your chair back and quickly exiting the dining room.

"Must be her time of the month." Tony mumbled, earning a slap to the back of the head from the redhead next to him. "Ow... What?!"

"Shut up Tony." Natasha rolled her eyes, turning to Bucky and giving him a 'What did you do' look.

_____________________

Laying in bed on your side, you pulled the blanket tighter to your chest with a sniffle. You began to turn over on your other side when your hip throbbed painfully at the movement. The waves of pain had your body shuttering, your eyes filling with fresh tears, rolling down your flushed cheeks.

You blamed your tears on your hip pain, but all the emotions you’d piled up since you’d gotten back from the mission was weighing on you now.

Light knocks sounded from your door, causing you to tense up and turn your back to the door. You didn’t feel like talking to anyone, especially if it was him.

“(Y/n)? I know you heard me.” Natasha muttered, opening the door, letting herself in.

“What do you want Nat?” You snapped, not meaning to take out your frustrations on her.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on? Your little scene downstairs has everyone worried.” She told you, earning a scoff from you, still refusing to face her.

“It’s nothing.” You sighed, wishing she could leave so you could attempt to sleep your issues away.

“Didn’t seem like nothing.” She retorted, huffing in annoyance when you stayed silent.

You were staring at the wall, biting your lip, trying to hold in your built up emotions. Too busy to notice Natasha whispering to another person entering the room. It was when you felt the edge of the bed behind you dip down that snapped your attention back.

“Hey doll,” Bucky greeted, “How’s your hip?”

You twisted your body back facing his worried form, but your eyebrows were furrowed on how he even knew about your injury.

“How did you…”

“Nat told me.”

Rolling your eyes, you were cursing under your breath. Throwing the blanket over your head in attempt to hide.

Your blanket cocoon was quickly ripped away by Bucky, pulling the blanket all the way down below your knees. His eyes dancing around your bandaged hip, clenching his jaw at the red seeping through the white gauze.

“(Y/n), is your hip feeling okay? Do we need to change it—“

“I’m fine!” You snapped, “Now go away.”

You we’re looking everywhere but his eyes, knowing you’d break down if you saw the disappointment in them.

Bucky was taken a back, but he couldn’t be all that angry when he’d brought all this on himself. He just got into this weird headspace when he’d heard the mission report, hearing that you’d been hurt. He realized it wasn’t fatal, but he didn’t like seeing his girl hurt at all. He realized he took it a little too far, he didn’t mean to make you upset the way he did. He’d shut you out and he felt like his old self when he’d first arrived at the compound again. Anxious and closed off, pushing you away when he really wanted to pull you into his arms and tell you how much he loves you.

“Doll, talk to me.” He practically begged, his metal arm whirring, having to stop himself from reaching out to touch you.

“Why are you ignoring me?” You rushed out, your voice louder than you intended it to be, “Is it because I messed up on the mission? A-are you disappointed in me or something? Huh?”

Your chest was rising and falling in a fast rhythm, your mind going haywire at the possibilities of why Bucky was suddenly indifferent with you. Your throat felt like it was tightening up.

Bucky stayed silent, his heart hurting, feeling terrible for making you feel this way.

You couldn’t stop your mind from producing the awful thoughts, and like a switch had been flipped, the dam inside of you cracked. The tears wouldn’t stop, your sobs painful sounding

“Is it… Is it because you— I— Do you not love m-me anymore?” You wheezed out.

Bucky snapped out of his silent trance, his hands cupping your face, brushing away the tear streaks.

“Baby no…” He hushed, trying to stop your mind from torturing yourself.

“I’m so sorry Buck, I-I love you so much and I…” You hiccuped, “If I did something— If I’m not good enough—“

“No Doll hey… Stop that,” He cooed, “You haven’t done anything wrong, okay?”

“Bu-but you…”

“I know baby, I’ve been a dick. I shouldn’t of shut you out like that I was just… I was scared.” Bucky confessed, your tears and breathing slowing down, you sitting silent besides the occasional hiccup.

“I still… I don’t understand?” You thought out loud.

Bucky breathed heavily, swallowing the forming lump in his throat. He scooted closer to you, pulling your form closer to him, and you let him.

“(Y/n), you have no idea how scared I was when I heard you had gotten hurt.” He started, watching your face soften at his wavering voice.

“Buck, I’m okay though.” You reassured him, grabbing his palms, rubbing your thumb comfortingly over the back of his hand.

“I know baby, but… I couldn’t help but think if you got hurt on a mission and—“ He panted out, “And you didn’t make it.”

Your heart ached at the pain laced in his words, him holding onto your hands in a desperate grip.

“Buck..”

“I know that doesn’t give me an excuse to be a dick to you I… I just get into this headspace every time you are headed back from a mission, when I’m waiting to hear that you’re alright and… When I heard you had gotten hurt— I just assumed the worst.” He finished.

The disappointment was clear on his face, but it wasn’t directed toward you, it was directed to himself.

You understood that he meant no harm, and you felt incredibly bad that he suffered so much while you were gone, you thought it was the other way around. You felt extremely loved in a sense, feeling lucky enough to have someone worry as deep as he did for you.

“Buck, you should’ve just told me how you were feeling from the start. You know I’d listen,” You paused, doubt clouding your thoughts, “You still trust me enough to talk to me… Right?”

Bucky immediately nodded his head, cupping your face, hearing your faltering voice.

“Of course I do baby, I trust you with my life.” He reassured you, “I don’t know why I got like that.”

“I know why,” You started, cradling his face, watching him snuggle his cheek deeper into your palm, “You have a good heart, and sometimes having a good heart can be overwhelming, because you can care so much about something.”

“I don’t want a good heart if it’s going to make me act that way.” He whispered sadly, lowering his eyes.

“That’s the thing about having a good heart,” You lifted his head slightly so his eyes met yours, “Its not something you can just change, it’s a part of you.”

He gazed from each eye, to your lips, then back up to your eyes, mesmerized by your beauty and soul. How could you be so forgiving and caring towards him?

“I’m so sorry I shut you out (Y/n), I love you and I will never do something like that again.” He promised, lifting and pulling you into his lap, curling his arms around your frame. Sitting his chin on top of your head.

You snuggled your face into his neck, wrapping your arms around him protectively.

“It’s okay Buck, I get scared too.”

#reader insert #light angst #fluff #oneshot #imagine #bucky x female reader #buckybarnes #bucky x y/n #falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #marvel cinematic universe #sebastian stan characters #hurt/comfort #protective bucky barnes

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rosepetalsinwinter · 2 months

Text

Five Years That Felt Like a Millennium (2) — Bucky Barnes

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x reader

Word count: 7,579

Summary: Baby Girl isn't doing too well after seeing Quentin.

Warnings: illusions and mention of violence, abuse, manipulation, and cheating, self-deprecation, fluff, flirting, angst

Note: I apologize for my absence. The response to the first part has been unbelievable! Thank you all so much. I hope I can do it justice.

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist │Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3

Happy Reading! 💜

Bucky didn't know a person could cry so much. Surely, the body must have surpassed a threshold ages ago for maximum fluid expulsion, but it seemed unlikely. Tears ran unbidden down Baby Girl's face, soaking into her white camisole, still wet from the lake. At least her body no longer wracked with sobs, which was a small accomplishment, he supposed.

He filled a glass with cold water. "Here, drink this."

Baby Girl's movements were almost mechanical as she took measured sips, slowly draining the glass. She stared at her reflection in the crystal, then abruptly stood, making Bucky hastily step back. Barefoot and half-dressed, she made for the front door.

Bucky blocked her path. "Where are you going?"

She went around him and reached for the handle, but Bucky intercepted her just in time, pulling her by the wrist. Her eyes were unfocused and wild, darting this way and that. "Hey!" She froze. "Hey," he said again, softer and with considerably less force. "What's going on in that smart brain of yours, huh? What are you thinking?"

"I need to find Quentin," she gulped. "I need to apologize to him. I need to make things right before he—"

She choked on her words, but Bucky knew her enough by now to predict what she would say next. "Before he what? Before he hurts Sam?"

Her face crumpled. "Maybe if I get down on my knees and beg, he'll forgive me, and things can go back to the way they used to be."

Bucky felt his previous anger return. Quentin Beck was a goddamn asshole because, in the span of a few minutes, he had managed to turn a bright and bubbly soul into an inconsolable mess.

"Is that really what you want?" he asked. "You want things to go back to the way they used to be?" Bucky already knew Baby Girl's answer, but he felt it was imperative for her to acknowledge out loud.

"No," she croaked. "Not really, but I don't have a choice. Quentin will hurt Sam and his family."

Bucky wiped the fresh tears from her face, letting his hands linger on her cheeks. "And what about you? He's hurting you. Are you not Sam's family?"

Baby girl began crying anew. Bucky carried her to the couch and held her close, letting her tears run down his bare skin. They sat like that until her breathing eventually evened, and her eyes drooped close. Bucky didn't dare move. Baby Girl was cradled in his arms and against his neck, legs stretched on the couch.

His eyes began to close, sleep slowly taking over, and he was going to let it. They both needed rest after the day's events, but sleep wasn't in his fortune. Bucky's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he startled awake, awkwardly maneuvering around to retrieve it without disturbing Baby Girl.

It was Sam. Bucky glanced down at the sleeping form in his arms. Dried tears painted her face, her eyes were puffy, and her nose red. Bucky's heart lurched in his chest, and he made a hasty decision—promise be damned, Bucky would fix this for her.

He answered the call. "Hey, Sam." And told him everything .

"Sam?" Bucky asked, after Sam had been quiet too long.

Sam sounded wretched with grief. "I knew something was wrong. I just never imagined..."

Bucky sighed, already anticipating the blame game. A family trait, he considered. "It's not your fault. Quentin Beck is to blame, and he will pay for his actions, I promise you." Though Bucky couldn't see him, he imagined Sam nodding his frustration. "Do you think you could get in contact with Congressman Lockhart?"

"Congressman Lock—why?"

"He owes me a favour," said Bucky, not mentioning that he had saved Lockhart's life. "How much are you willing to bet that Lockhart has met Quentin Beck before, and that Beck has probably left a less-than-savoury impression on the Congressman?"

"I don't understand."

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, Sam."

Sam was impressed. "I'll ask Torres to get us in contact."

Bucky smirked, feeling a satisfaction spread over him at the thought of Quentin Beck rotting in a jail cell. "You do that. When do you think you'll be back?"

Baby Girl shifted in his arms, and Bucky softened his voice. "Day after tomorrow? Alright, keep me updated." He ended the call.

"Who was that?" came a groggy voice. Baby Girl's eyes were closed, and she was in the process of waking up.

"Sam," Bucky answered, adjusting her in his arms. "His business is taking longer than usual. He and Sarah will be back in a few days.

Baby Girl pushed away from Bucky, sat up next to him, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes trailed to his chest and widened in mortification. "Shit, I'm so sorry. I drooled all over you."

When she reached over to wipe him clean, he grabbed her wrist. "Why do you make it a habit to apologize for things out of your control?"

She suddenly jerked away from him, putting ample space between them. "I can hardly help how I feel. If I feel sorry, I apologize."

"Well, don't." Bucky stretched his legs, groaning at the relief. "I'm a grown man," he teased, wiping his chest with the back of his hand. "I can handle a little drool."

Baby girl looked down at her palms, forlorn and despondent. "I'm a mess," she muttered.

"Yes, you are," Bucky responded quietly. She jerked her head in surprise, expecting him to dispute her. But she didn't need his false reassurances any longer. Bucky wanted the full weight of her circumstances bearing down on her so she might escape from the haze of melancholy and finally fight back.

Bucky looked out the window at the setting sun. It cast a beautiful golden glow over the two of them. "You should change into something comfortable," he told her. "There's a lot to talk about."

"Quentin was in one of my electives at school." Baby Girl was freshly showered and changed, wearing Bucky's sweats because she was out of clean clothes. They were enormous on her frame, which suited her well.

Bucky had also changed and was sitting across from her on the kitchen table, a warm cup of tea in his hands. It was something floral with a bitter note. He took his plain while she drowned hers in honey.

"Abnormal Psychology," she continued, "which is ironic because I diagnosed him with narcissism a few years into our relationship. I never told him, obviously. It wouldn't have ended well."

The conversation—long overdue—produced a painful pit in Bucky's stomach. He recognized it as suppressed rage, slowly building in potency and power. Bucky took a large sip of his tea, letting it burn his tongue so he might focus on anything other than the need to punch Beck's face.

"I tripped over his bag. He helped me up; apologized, and asked me to dinner."

Bucky couldn't help how bitter he sounded. "And you said yes."

She looked at him with dead eyes. "I wish I had. Then my life wouldn't have turned into a Shakespearean tragedy."

"That seems a bit bleak," Bucky snorted.

"But isn't it?" she implored. "Bleak? He was my first serious boyfriend; I moved in with him after two weeks and quit my job after a month. He didn't say 'I love you' until I threatened to leave him when I found out he was cheating. I pretended to look the other way when I found another girl's bra in our bed. I laughed when I saw lipstick stains on his collar. I gave him my virginity on my birthday, the day after I found out he cheated on me again. If that isn't bleak, if that isn't a tragedy, then what is? Perhaps it's the fact that I made excuses for him the first time he hit me. I told myself he was aiming for the wall, and I got in the way of his fist, but let's be honest, I was deluding myself."

Baby girl took a deep breath and dug her nails into the table. Her previous sorrow was replaced with unbridled anger. "I recognized all the signs. I knew he was using me—manipulating me! He even said so himself. We were at a party, and his friend said I was 'quite something.' Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean! Quentin said, 'She is, isn't she? But I gotta tell you, I'm not with her for that brain of hers.' I was standing right next to him! He and his friends undressed me with their eyes, and I just stood there and smiled!"

Bucky felt his rage simmering—at Beck, at the situation, at her . "Why are you blaming yourself? It's not your fault!"

Baby Girl pushed away from the table and paced around. "Don't!" she shouted. "Nothing you say will make this okay, Bucky. Nothing you say will make what I did okay!"

Bucky stood up as well, breathing heavily. He had known her less than a week but already felt burning concern on her behalf. "And what did you do?"

"Nothing!" she screamed, and her shrill voice echoed throughout the empty house. "I did nothing! Quentin threatened Sam, then once Sam blipped, he threatened Sarah and the boys, and I knew it wasn't a bluff because he had the connections to back him up. I knew, because I'm the one who helped him get those connections in the first place!"

Bucky sucked in a quick breath. "What connections?" Baby Girl had calmed somewhat after her brief yet brutal rant, and she sat down at the table, sipping her tea.

"What connections!" Bucky almost shouted.

Baby Girl startled. "I don't know! Businessmen, stockbrokers, a lot of Wall Street types. They paid attention to him when he had a pretty girl on his arm."

"Was that all?" Bucky probed.

Baby Girl shook her head. "There were a lot of government officials, too. I told you, remember? FBI, CIA, Homeland Security, Senators, UN spokespersons, congressmen, federal court judges—"

"Repeat that."

"Federal court—"

"No!" Bucky interrupted again. "What you said before."

"Congressmen?" Baby Girl huffed in annoyance. "I don't understand why that stood out to you the most. Are federal court judges not impressive enough for you, Bucky?"

Bucky ignored her snark and sat across from her. "Do you happen to know a Congressman Lockhart?"

Baby Girl paused before taking a sip from her cup. "Surprisingly, yes. Mr. Lockhart left a lasting impression when he didn't try looking down my dress every few minutes or shoving his hand up my leg."

"That's disgusting," he frowned.

"That's life," Baby Girl retorted. "Trust me, I had it better than most women."

Bucky shook his head, hating how she downplayed her struggles. "That's not okay."

Baby Girl scoffed without heat. "Like things were so much better in the forties. Right, Sergeant Barnes?"

Bucky ignored any feelings the utterance of his title from her lips brought forth. "I didn't stand for that then, and I don't stand for it now."

Thankfully, she seemed to have mercy on him and let the topic slide. "He didn't seem to like Quentin much; Lockhart. He asked me a lot of questions, and I think he got suspicious when I couldn't answer anything."

"Like what?"

"Like what I do for work, my interests, how I met Quentin. I couldn't tell him anything without revealing how abusive Quentin was. He especially didn't like it when he found out I was Sam Wilson's adopted kid sister."

Bucky was intrigued. "What did he say?"

"Nothing. He ignored Quentin for the rest of the event, but right before it ended, he pulled me aside and..." she trailed off.

"What?" Bucky encouraged her.

Baby Girl looked at him with shame and guilt swimming in her irises. "Congressman Lockhart told me I was making a mistake. He told me Quentin was using me because of my relation to Sam Wilson. He told me men like Quentin were rotten to the core, and I should run the other way and never look back." She gulped. "I should've listened to him."

Bucky shook his head. "You made a decision. You couldn't have known."

She didn't hear him, seemingly playing the scene in her mind. "Then the strangest thing happened. Congressman Lockhart called a few days later to meet about the project Quentin had proposed. Quentin was ecstatic, as you can imagine. He was overly sweet with me that day." Her brows puckered in confusion. "But I never understood... Why warn me away from Quentin only to cozy up to him later?"

Bucky leaned back in his chair, thinking everything over, connecting the dots. "Congressman Lockhart is a good man," he said. "A good and clever man."

Baby Girl narrowed her eyes. "How do you know him anyway? What does he have to do with anything?"

Bucky hesitated. He didn't want to get her hopes up if his plan didn't work, but he also couldn't watch her beat herself up any longer. This girl, this beautiful and feisty girl, had Bucky wrapped around her fingers since she wrapped her arms around his waist that day on his bike. This girl, who laughed and cried and smiled and was never afraid to voice her opinion. This girl, who looked at Bucky with admiration in her eyes, who looked at his metal arm with gentle curiosity and without any of the disgust or malice he was used to. Who kept her questions light and discrete so as not to unsettle him. This girl, this beautiful and feisty girl, who made Bucky smile.

He would do anything for her. Even if it meant keeping his scheme a secret.

Bucky hesitated, not wanting to lie to her, but finding he had little choice. "I have a plan," he said. "To get rid of Quentin Beck for good."

And Bucky was presented, for the first time since their swim in the lake, a genuine and awe-filled smile, directed entirely at him.

"Lemonade?"

Bucky swam toward the deck, hoisting himself from the lake. Baby Girl was sitting on the edge, letting her bare feet skim the cool water. "You take such good care of me," Bucky teased. He gave a playful shake of his head, sending droplets of water her way.

Baby Girl shrieked and raised her hands to cover her face. "You ass!"

With a chuckle, Bucky leaned back on his elbow, reaching for the drink.

"And to think I brought you sustenance!" Baby Girl pushed a plate of fruit toward him.

Bucky picked up a fruit with a deep purple flesh and examined it with suspicion. "Is this alien food? It looks like something you might find in Asgard."

Baby Girl stared in awe. "You've been to Asgard?"

Bucky was still looking at the teardrop-shaped product. "Not yet," he declared confidently and bit into the flesh. Bucky paused a moment, staring at Baby Girl before taking a larger bite. "What the fuck? Why is it so good?"

Baby Girl laughed. "What, you've never had a fig before?" She grabbed one for herself and showed him a better way to eat it. "You pinch it at the top. Split it open. Fold it over, and voila!" She popped it in her mouth, groaning as flavour burst across her tongue.

"I thought it was some weird kind of plum!" Bucky exclaimed, grabbing another.

"Nope, just a fig."

"Just a fig, she says," Bucky teased. "And what's this?" He threw a shiny orange fruit in the air, catching it just before it smacked Baby Girl in the face.

She took it from him with an unconvincing frown. " This —is a persimmon. You know it's ripe when it's ready to burst. I like to pinch the skin like this—" she demonstrated by making an incision with her teeth, "and suck the flesh." Baby Girl moaned in delight. "I missed this."

Bucky intensely observed her, paying close attention to a drop of persimmon juice on her lip.

"What? Is there something on my face?"

Bucky reached over to wipe the juice with his thumb. "You're a mess," he said hoarsely. Then, he brought his thumb to his mouth and licked it off as she watched him. "It's sweet."

She stared at him, soft lips parted and breaths uneven. "Did you think it would be sour?"

Bucky shrugged and picked up one for himself, following Baby Girl's instructions and getting a proper taste. When he was halfway through his fruit and Baby Girl was still gawking at him, Bucky realized he had taken the flirting a bit too far.

Satisfaction crackled in his muscles, and he twitched out a smirk. It was only a small accomplishment that he had retained some of his frivolous ways, but he was still proud. "What else do you have for me?" he inquired loudly, effectively diverting her.

Baby Girl quickly composed herself, dropping the rest of her persimmon onto the fruit plate. "Watermelon and grapes."

"Does the watermelon change colours, and do the grapes taste like cotton candy?"

"Change colours—No!" Baby Girl gawped. "You have a strong imagination." She suddenly turned thoughtful. "I was thinking of grabbing the cotton candy grapes, though. But they're too sweet for me."

It was Bucky's turn to gawp. "I was being sarcastic. Do cotton candy grapes really exist?"

Baby Girl smiled. "They've been around a while. I'll get you some next time."

Bucky reclined on his elbow, resting his head in his hand. "Next time. I like the sound of that." He caught her eye and asked her the burning question. "So, you've decided to stay?"

Baby Girl pushed the empty glasses and fruit tray away, lying back on the deck. From this angle, with Bucky hovering over her, the sun didn't burn her eyes. She smiled a sad smile. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"You always have a choice," Bucky replied fervently. "We would never keep you against your will."

Baby Girl shook her head. "That's not what I meant. Quentin will always find me. He's possessive of his things."

"You're not a thing . And he doesn't deserve you."

"Maybe I deserve him."

Bucky looked into her bright eyes, thinly veiled with tears. He understood the feeling of helplessness—the intense guilt that followed. Even now, after being pardoned and making amends, Bucky couldn't stop guilt from seizing him in the dark hours of the night, when he was most vulnerable and exposed.

He often looked around and wondered if he deserved the life he had been given, this second chance that none of his victims had the fortune of. On more of a surface level, Bucky understood he was as much a victim as any other. A prisoner in his own body. He, and he alone, knew the struggle he had put up for almost twenty years before finally succumbing.

Bucky looked into her bright eyes, thinly veiled with tears, and saw himself reflected in them. He saw himself as a younger man—a better man—waging a war against invisible demons, and he understood. Trauma left its presence in various ways, and the evidence of it was scattered all across her vulnerable physique.

Bucky reached for a strand of her hair. "Sometimes, the hardest prison to escape from is the one we build in our own minds."

Baby Girl turned her head to look up at the sky. "That sounds like something you'd hear at the therapist's."

"And I'm giving it out for free," Bucky smiled.

They both said nothing for a short while, enjoying the sun, and soaking each other's company.

"He used to tell me I was beautiful every day." Her brows creased. "Well, not exactly. He never called me beautiful. He called me hot, and sexy, and fire—" she suddenly scoffed. "I hated that. 'You look fire.' One day, even that stopped. I remember thinking he didn't love me anymore because that's what attracted him in the first place."

Bucky played with her hair, letting her say what she needed to.

"Objectively, I know I'm attractive. I was told often enough by his friends. But I haven't felt pretty in a long time. And it disgusts me that I needed his validation to feel good about myself." Baby Girl took a deep breath, shaking slightly from the overload of emotions. "Sorry."

Making sure she was looking at him, Bucky leaned his head down and kissed the corner of her mouth. Her skin was soft and warm, and he lingered a moment longer than necessary. "You're beautiful," he murmured, savouring her sweet scent. "Absolutely gorgeous."

Baby Girl stiffened under him, eyes widened with surprise, soft lips parted in exhale. She blinked furiously, grabbing her necklace in a white-knuckled grip—a dainty gold crescent moon with black detailing. "I feel very hot," she croaked.

Indeed, Bucky could hear her heart furiously pumping blood through her veins due to his risky kiss. He bent down and placed another, dangerously closer to her lips than the previous. "Let's cool you down then," he smirked, grabbing her around the waist and launching both of them into the lake.

He lost his hold on her as they submerged in the cool water. Bucky kicked off the bottom and broke the surface, looking around for her. Baby Girl emerged a moment later, mascara lines running down her cheeks and brows creased in a furious frown.

She wiped her face and scoffed, "You absolute ass!" When Bucky laughed at her, she splashed him with a large swell of water, which went into his mouth. He choked and sputtered between laughter, welcoming her gentle abuse with a large smile.

"You said you were hot," he rationalized. "I only wanted to cool you down."

Baby Girl intensified her attack, wading closer until she was on top of him, attempting to submerge his head. "You idiot!" she yelled. "My clothes are all wet!"

"Pity," Bucky sputtered, trying to grab hold of her, but she was relentless in her assault, flailing her limbs in reckless abandon.

"Die!" she shrieked, managing to clamber on top of him. She wrapped her legs around his neck and pushed him under, painfully pulling at his roots in the process.

All this time, Bucky could've easily subdued her. But where was the fun in that? When her legs tightened a smidge too much, and Bucky could no longer breathe, he finally put an end to their little game. He clasped his hand around her ankle and gave a gentle pull. Baby Girl fell from his shoulders with a dramatic scream, and realizing she had far surpassed his patience, began to swim away.

Bucky grabbed her ankle once more, keeping her in place. "You brat," he hissed. "I'll teach you a lesson."

Her panicked laughter brought a large smile to his face. Seeing her happy because of him; after the horrible week she'd had, filled Bucky with indescribable pride.

"No!" she giggled. "No more. I'm tired." In fact, she had stopped swimming and was struggling to stay afloat.

Bucky lifted her into his arms, ignoring her feeble protests. "That's enough games for today," he announced, carrying her dripping body inside.

After drying themselves and changing, they settled in the kitchen for dinner. Baby Girl sat on the island with her head resting on her arms, watching Bucky cook.

"Where did you learn that?" she asked when he expertly chopped onions without looking.

Bucky shrugged. "My Ma taught me the basics when I was little. She said cooking was a survival skill."

The girl smiled. "Smart woman."

"That she was," he sighed. "I learned some more in the army. Then, after I was pardoned, I found all this time on my hands and all these cuisines I wanted to try. YouTube is very handy for that."

"That it is." She walked to his side, watching him saute shrimp for the pasta. "You sure you don't want me to help?"

"Yeah, you sit your pretty ass down and relax."

"Yes, Chef!" Baby Girl saluted, not bothering to sit. She exclaimed in delight when Bucky flipped the pan one-handed.

"Wanna see something cool?" he smirked, grabbing a bottle of Cognac from the pantry. "Step back."

Baby Girl shuffled back, and Bucky poured some Cognac into the saucepan. He was so focused on the task that he didn't notice Baby Girl inch closer. Bucky tilted the pan, letting it catch fire, and a beautiful flame blazed powerfully in front of him. He turned, wanting to see her reaction.

She stepped away with a shout, arms raised to protect her face. The flame fizzled away as quickly as it had ignited, but she was still shaking in fear. She fell against the island counter, sliding to her knees.

Bucky turned off the stove and sank next to her, grabbing her arms. "What's wrong?" he worried. "Are you hurt?"

Eyes shut tight, she shook her head, but she was still trembling. "I'm okay."

Bucky didn't believe her. He lifted her up and set her on the counter, sliding between her spread legs. "Hey," he soothed. "What happened just now?"

She shook her head, eyes still closed. "I don't know, I—" Baby Girl exhaled shakily, trying to calm down. "I wasn't expecting—I thought. I'm scared of fire," she eventually admitted.

Bucky frowned. He vividly remembered the night of the bonfire, where she chased AJ and Cass around the large fire. There was no hint of fear on her face that night, no discomfort or hesitancy. He told her as such.

"I don't know. I think it's because the bonfire was out in the open. It was controlled and didn't feel as dangerous. But indoor fires..." She left the next part unsaid, but Bucky understood.

His flambé trick took her by surprise at such close proximity. For a moment, she was transported to her childhood home to relive that fateful night. Bucky hugged her tight, soothing her with kind words of affirmation. "You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you."

She clutched tightly onto him, burying her face in his neck, breathing heavily into his ears. "Sometimes I think I was supposed to die that night," she whimpered, making Bucky freeze. "I was supposed to die in that house with my family. But I didn't. I'm scared the past will catch up with me one day to finish what it started."

Bucky held on to her tighter.

"I'm scared I'll find myself in that house again, and no one will be there to push me out the window."

"That won't happen," he promised. "I won't let it."

She briefly said nothing, and Bucky worried he hadn't done enough to reassure her.

"Have you seen the house?" she suddenly asked.

"No," replied Bucky, running his hands through her hair. "But Sam told me it was nearby."

Baby Girl hummed. "It's on the far side of the lake, covered by trees. We shared the lake with the Wilsons. Did you know the house is still there? What's left of it anyway. They fixed the damaged parts and put it up for sale. I found out two years ago."

Bucky pulled away from her, meeting her gaze. "It's been up that long?"

"Longer," she replied. "It went up for sale six years ago, but no one will buy it. Who wants to live in a house where an entire family died?"

Bucky wanted to correct her. "You're not dead," he wanted to shout. "You're not at fault. You deserve so much."

"If I had the money..." she shook her head and dismissed the thought.

Would she buy the house if she could? he wondered. The home where she grew up and created happy memories with her siblings.

Bucky thought about his house in Brooklyn Heights, which had been turned into a poor excuse of a strip mall. The house where he had sleepovers with Steve. Where Rebecca hosted her friends, and Bucky hid underneath her bed to try and scare them. Where he snuck in his prom date, Dorothy, through his bedroom window when his parents were out of town. The time he and Steve were playing baseball on the street, and Steve hit the ball straight through the front window.

Would he buy that house if he could? If it hadn't been bulldozed? He decided he would. He had the desire, and he sure as hell had the money.

"There's no point in dwelling on the past," he parroted. Occasionally, his new therapist offered advice that Bucky kept close to his heart. "You're alive to see another day. Make the most of it."

Baby Girl smiled softly. "You always know just what to say," she teased. "I will."

Bucky was consoled by her steady heartbeat and easy manner. "It's a god-given talent," he shrugged, instantly rewarded by soft giggles and an unenthusiastic shove at his chest.

Once the adrenaline from the scare dissipated, Bucky finally noticed their proximity. Her thighs were bracketing his, and his arms were caging her body. Their breaths mingled in the air between them.

"You're very modest," Baby Girl croaked, jerking away.

Bucky hastily turned to the stove, turning it on and resuming making dinner. "With good reason," he replied, clearing his throat.

He chastised himself while the shrimps finished cooking. Baby Girl had just gotten out of an abusive relationship. Now was not the time to be sweet on her—hovering so close he could smell her shampoo and the scent of her skin.

Wait. Was she out of an abusive relationship? Baby Girl had emphasized that she was only with Quentin because he threatened Sam, Sarah, and the boys. Except, that was no longer an issue as a plan was underway. Bucky knew it, Sam knew it, but did Quentin? Did Quentin assume that his dismissal from the Wilson Residence a few days prior was a fluke? If Quentin returned thinking he could whisk her away as if she owed him anything, he would be sorely mistaken. Bucky would make sure of it.

But where did that leave them? There was obvious attraction—though Bucky was unsure if it was appropriate to act on, considering the circumstances—and they were legal adults, but the path forward felt very unclear. While Baby Girl hadn't shown any unpleasant reactions to Bucky's past, she hadn't particularly reassured him either that it did not bother her. Was it fair to her to be caught up in his mess, along with her own?

So many questions, and yet the answers felt out of reach. Bucky turned around. Baby girl was sitting on the kitchen table, and she gave Bucky a smile that answered at least one question.

Did she trust him? Her smile said, "Yes. Yes, she did."

Another day passed like all the others. Had it really been over a week since she arrived in Louisiana? Sam and Sarah were still away on "business," and the boys were still at their sleepover—ridiculous really—she knew it was summer break, but there had to be a limit. She and Bucky were still alone together.

Bucky. His name made her burn with embarrassment. Lately, anything and everything related to him made her temperature rise a few degrees. His smile, his presence, his proximity . His hands holding her tight to his chest. Embarrassment always closely followed such thoughts, though for reasons that deeply ashamed her because never, in the entirety of her relationship with Quentin, did she feel like this. Beautiful, and desired, and wanted, and free . Happy.

She had invested around six to seven years in her on-again, off-again relationship with Quentin Beck and never managed to blush as furiously as she did in the presence of Bucky Barnes. The White Wolf. War hero. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

While most girls gushed over Captain America in high school, Baby Girl cut out pictures of his best friend from her textbook and plastered them inside her locker. It was a stupid girl crush, one she quickly outgrew as she matured into a young woman. However, the fascination remained. During the past week, this fascination had transformed from a small, barely there spark to a blazing fire. The gruesome analogy was not lost on her, yet it was the only way to vividly describe her deepening feelings.

Bucky Barnes had lit her heart on fire. And that terrified her. Not because she was afraid of men after her relationship with Quentin, and not because of Bucky's unfortunate past, but because of her unfortunate reality. What did she have to offer a man like Bucky Barnes? She had nothing. No job, no prospects, no backbone with which to confidently regard the world. She had spent six years with an abusive man, and she could have left at any moment—could have gathered the courage to trust her brother Sam to take care of all of them. She hadn't taken the opportunity when presented with it, and there was this man, who hadn't been given any semblance of reprieve, and he was stronger for it.

So, no. While there was obvious attraction between them both, she was not sure it was appropriate to act on. She could never deserve the likes of him.

The path ahead was unclear, but somehow she knew he would be there to guide her. And when he chucked her into the lake that evening, laughing loudly at her temper, she smiled back, hoping her face screamed, "I trust you. I do."

After an uneventful dinner, Bucky sheepishly announced he had to leave. "I forgot I promised Carlos I'd help with his car."

She raised an unimpressed brow, fixing him with a stern look. He had promised to take her shopping for a new phone, and while she wasn't looking forward to a ride on his death trap, she really wanted her games back. "I didn't know you were a mechanic along with being a war hero."

"I'm not a war hero," he responded mechanically.

The words burst from her lips. "If it weren't for you," she snapped, "Doctor Zola would've been on his merry way to design new techniques to destroy the human race. You stopped him. If that's not heroic, I don't know what is."

"I'm not a war hero," Bucky said again after getting over the initial shock at her outburst.

"But you're a mechanic?"

"I'm not that either," he huffed. "Mr. Thurow needs me to tow his car."

"Excuse me?"

"The company overcharges and always ends up damaging the vehicle. He asked me for a favour."

"Do we have a tow truck?" she asked.

Bucky raised his left hand. "I have a metal arm," he pointed out. "And super strength. I can easily tow a car."

Baby Girl was speechless. "How long will you be?"

Bucky checked his watch. "An hour? Less, if I manage to not get roped into game night."

"Game night? It's a weekday."

"Every night's a game night at the Thurow's," Bucky responded seriously. "We'll get your phone first thing tomorrow morning."

"Promise?" she asked his retreating figure.

"Promise," he replied. "Lock the door, alright? And keep the blinds down."

"Alright, Dad," she retorted, but he had already left.

Baby Girl took a deep breath. This was the first time she had been alone in weeks. She sat down on the couch and closed her eyes. A minute passed, then two, then three. Five minutes later, she opened her eyes and saw only thirty seconds had passed. She groaned from boredom and flopped over the armrest. She was loath to admit that she dearly missed Bucky. There was something in his air and manner of walking that brought peace to her inner turmoil.

She sighed, resorting to cleaning the kitchen, which was not dirty in the least. In the middle of her furiously scrubbing the countertop with a sponge, the landline chimed annoyingly from the other room. "Hello," she answered, twirling the cord with her pinky. "Who's this?"

"Baby Girl!" the jolly voice on the other line bellowed. "I was hoping you'd pick up."

"Sam!" The two talked, catching up on the past few days. It turned out Sam was in Washington. "How's Sarah?" she asked. "Is she enjoying her time away from the boys? They're lovely, but they can be a nuisance."

Sam grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.

"What?"

"She's on a date," he groaned. "Look, I'm happy for her. But I didn't need to see her exchanging spit with a stranger."

"Poor you," she giggled. "And lucky Sarah! Wowza!"

Sam laughed on the other line. "It's great to hear you happy after so long."

"Hmm," Baby Girl hummed, feeling momentarily guilty. "By the way, I thought you and Sarah were going to New Orleans. What are you doing in Washington?"

"He didn't tell you," Sam said with surprise. "I thought he would."

"Tell me what?"

"I know about Quentin," Sam sighed. "I know you're still dating him."

Her breath got stuck in her throat. "He told you?" she asked in disbelief.

"Don't be mad at him," Sam pleaded. "I made him tell me."

There was shuffling on the other end. A loud sniffle.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry you felt like Quentin was the only one you could count on."

"What exactly did Bucky say?" Baby Girl questioned, thinking Sam was too calm about the situation.

"He said Quentin was blackmailing you to stay with him."

Baby Girl sighed. "Is that all? Did he say anything else?"

"Like what?"

"Like... nothing." She realized Bucky had not disclosed any of the more sensitive subject matter. Not the abuse, nor Quentin's impromptu visit. "It's nothing. I'm sorry I kept this from you."

Sam sighed heavily on the other line. "That's in the past. We can only move forward from here on out."

Baby Girl nodded even though Sam couldn't see her. "You have a good friend," she told him. "Bucky's doing a lot to help. He came up with the plan to distract Quentin with "bigger fish," as he put it. Quentin will forget all about me if he finds something more worthwhile. But I'm sure you know all about that."

"He said what? That's not what we planned!" Sam exclaimed. He swore under his breath. "I need to take this call. It's Congress—I'll tell you soon, alright? I'll call you right back."

"Sure," she said, slightly flustered. "I'll be waiting."

Sam ended the call, and she put the receiver down. The second she did, the landline immediately started ringing.

"What took you so long?" she joked with a laugh. "I've been waiting hours for your call."

"You have? I knew you missed me."

Baby Girl felt her heart drop to her stomach. The voice on the other line was not quite as deep, or quite as warm. It was low and raspy, eliciting goosebumps across her arms and bad memories across her skin.

She made to end the call, but his shrill warning stopped her. "You don't want to do that," Quentin hissed.

"What do you want?" she managed to ask between ragged breaths.

"Straight to the point, I see. You've really changed."

"Fuck you!" she seethed. "I asked you a question." She was surprised by her resolve, and so was he.

"What, you're swearing now? That's not the girl I know."

Her body was trembling with adrenaline. "Tell me what you want, or I'll end the call."

She could feel his anger through the line. "I want to talk to you in person."

"Over your dead body!" she yelled.

Quentin was oddly calm with his response. "No, not over mine."

It was so obviously a bait—one she couldn't help but fall for. "What do you mean?"

"It's a shame," he sighed, "that I'm meeting them for the first time under such shit circumstances. They're cute kids. Would've loved New York."

Time seemed to stop.

"Have you boys ever seen the Statue of Liberty? I'll take you once your Aunt comes back home. We can all go together."

There was a muffled noise, then the slam of a door shutting close. It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over Baby Girl. Her muscles tightened painfully, and she collapsed onto the couch.

"No," she whispered.

Quentin laughed on the other end. "Cat got your tongue?"

Baby Girl closed her eyes, feeling tears of frustration well in the corners. This is why she kept her distance. This is why she wanted to go back to Quentin and back to New York. But she let herself hope in Bucky's presence, let herself believe that she could have a family while keeping her freedom. "You monster," she hissed. "Don't you dare touch them." But there wasn't any heat behind her words, only the bitter taste of defeat.

He tasted it too, and oh, how he reveled in it! Quentin laughed again, low and menacing. "I told you I wouldn't let you leave so easily. Meet me in person if you want to see your dear nephews again. And don't you dare tell anyone," he hissed. "This is between you and me."

Baby Girl ignored his warning and reached into her back pocket to grab her phone and tell Bucky. But her hand came back empty. She didn't have a phone; she didn't even have Bucky's number. And did she really want to risk the boys' lives by going behind Quentin's back? He didn't want them anyway, he only wanted her.

With tears burning her eyes and a fire blazing in her chest, Baby Girl asked, "Where do you want to meet?"

On the other end, Quentin smiled, knowing he had won.

Bucky reached into his back pocket and grabbed his phone. He scrolled through his contacts, realizing too late that he didn't have her number. His face fell, and he sighed deep and slow, garnering the attention of the room. Carlos Thurow had invited some friends for a game of poker and forced Bucky to play a round with them. That was four rounds ago.

"What's got you so down, Sergeant?" Carlos teased. "There a girl waiting for you at home?" The men laughed and cheered, barraging Bucky with questions.

He found himself smiling, and finished his beer in one swig. "I do, actually," he said, grabbing his jacket and walking to the door. "I should get going."

The men cheered him on, and Bucky left feeling light and tingly. It wasn't from the alcohol—Bucky couldn't get drunk anymore—it was her. His Baby Girl.

The walk to Sam's was warm. The stars were out, the sky clear, and the wind blew gently, ruffling the trees around him. Bucky took a deep breath, smelling the ocean air and the earthy trees, listening to the faint sounds of crickets chirping and owls hooting. A night had never been sweeter.

Once at the house, Bucky lightened his footsteps and creeped onto the porch, feeling mischievous and wanting to spook Baby Girl. The living room light was on, and he could see the television playing silently through the thin curtain. Bucky placed a hand on the door, frowning when it creeped open at the slightest touch.

Didn't he tell her to lock the door? And to leave it completely open? Delacroix was a small community inhabited by kind and lawful people, but there was a crazy ex on the loose. He expected Baby Girl to be more careful than that.

Bucky decided he would give her a proper scare for her carelessness and slipped through the entryway. He sneaked into the living room, arms raised like in the movies, and—

She wasn't there. Bucky quickly scanned his surroundings. TV playing, couch pushed askew, the landline dangling from its cord, the edge of the carpet flipped over as if someone had run over it. Bucky rushed to check the rest of the house, the bedrooms, the washroom—he even checked the lake. Nothing.

He went back to the living room, senses dialed to the maximum. There was no sign of a forced entry, and though a scuffle was apparent, there were no prints or marks that indicated there had been another person. Unless they covered their tracks. But then why leave the carpet overturned, the couch askew? Why make it obvious something had happened?

Perhaps Bucky was overthinking, and Baby Girl had run to the store to grab something. She had already proved herself to be impulsive and clumsy. It wouldn't be a huge stretch to believe she forgot to lock the door behind her in a hurry.

Except, she wouldn't have left without her wallet. Bucky bent down to grab her purse from under the coffee table, feeling dread engulf him at the sight. Palms sticky and breaths uneven, he looked around the room once more. This time, he noticed something he hadn't before, a hastily scribbled note peeking out from under the landline.

Bucky snatched the note, careful not to crease it.

"I'm sorry," it began. "I had no choice. He has the boys."

Bucky's mind began to race with questions. Most namely, "Where?"

It was then that his senses picked up on something new. The faint scent of smoke. Bucky dropped the note and ran out the back, scanning the horizon. There, on the opposite side of the lake, a thick column of smoke billowed from behind the treeline. The beginnings of a large fire. Baby Girl's house was set ablaze, glowing brightly in the dark. Bucky's heart dropped to his stomach, and he ran.

Note: So... I lied. There will need to be another part.

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rassvetsky · 1 year

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i was wondering if u can come up with ‘a trust issue who needs reassurance all the time’ reader and ‘i dont know how to communicate my feelings’ bucky. basically a miscommunication trope.

i will accept however storyline and ending you make because i love you and i love ur writing💕❤️❤️

hi babe!! i really really hope i did your wonderful request at least some justice because i got too carried away-- i hope you like it! thank you for existing ♡

Out Of Mind

bucky barnes x reader

"Falling in love with you terrified Bucky, enough to push you away. He was sure that it's better this way. But merely a week later, when you disappear without a trace, Bucky realized that he couldn't handle being without you."

[5.2k] | angst with a happy ending, miscommunication, arguing, bucky being an asshole at first but he has his reasons, natasha being protective, sassy tony, canon level violence, fighting, reader getting minor injuries, clint is the loml, bucky is an idiot in love my dudes, they're so cute god help me

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread.

Bucky used to be a simple man, Steve had told you long ago. After all those years of torture, he developed… Complexity.

And you couldn't agree more.

He was a tender lover to begin with, the one to always make sure that you were alright, the one to put your wellbeing above his. He wasn't good with words- wasn't the most expressive man out there, but you understood him. You understood why he never included cards in the flowers he sent to you, or sometimes didn't say anything back to your love declarations other than a bashful smile; you understood that for him, these things worked in different ways now.

And that's why he loved you so much. That's why he was terrified.

Because the deeper he fell for you, the more intense his feelings got. The harder his separation anxiety hit, the more mushed his brain became.

And in any other scenario, that would be lovely. Those butterflies that one would feel in their stomach, or the sweet little dumbification that came hand to hand with love. In another life, he'd bask in the feeling. He'd see the world around him under a different light, a light that you cast on his life.

But in this life? It was nothing but dangerous. Nothing but absolutely horrendous.

Because he was supposed to focus. He was supposed to be alert. His fight or flight response had to be on at all times and no matter what, he was supposed to prioritize his life to save the others.

He couldn't do that when you were involved, not anymore. The paranoia got too much- he was terrified of seeing you get hurt, of losing you in any way. That fear brought out the worst in him, causing fights to break out whenever you willingly got yourself in trouble, distracting him, making you drift apart further.

You didn't want that. He didn't want that. But life for you wasn't always just movie nights at the compound, breakfasts on bed, long nights of talking about the future.

He had to let the chips fall where they may.

You needed reassurance, he knew that. But suddenly, after the last mission you went on with the team including Bucky, he suddenly… Stopped doing that. That bashful grin was nowhere to be seen when you told him you loved him, when you held his hand it just didn't last as long as it usually did, he… He didn't even look at you properly. And that went on for days, each day worse than the one before, until he barely even talked to you.

And the dread you felt on your chest was unbearable.

The night-time fell quicker than any other day that one evening, as you prepared yourself a warm tea to accompany your book. Carrying the mug up to your shared room with Bucky, you slowly got under the sheets, holding the book open with one hand, mug with the other.

The plot was barely interesting to you with all the thoughts running through your mind, snatching your attention from the words, making you have to go back and reread the same paragraphs over and over. It wasn't anything new, this type of distraction, but more often than not, it was the aftermath of the latest mission plaguing your mind. Not your boyfriend being excessively restrained towards you, as if your sole existence was a problem for him.

Speaking of, maybe it was. Maybe you were too high-maintenance for him, maybe you weren't giving him enough space, maybe he was just going through something. Or maybe, he was done with you. He didn't need you anymore, now that he got rid of the vivid nightmares and dissociations-

How cruel of you to think that. How cruel of him to leave that open as a possibility.

With your tea half-drank, you set the mug back on the nightstand, pinning the bookmark between the pages before leaving it by the mug. You didn't feel like laying down- didn't think you could fall asleep with your mind on overdrive like this anyway. Getting up from where you were laid across, you slowly made your way over to the window, arms crossed on your chest as you heaved a sigh. The view was nice, moonlight illuminated enough of the surrounding trees, and if you were to squint, you could see the grass shine wetly, with a layer of dew upon them.

You couldn't help the way your shoulders tensed a bit when the door knob twisted open, hearing the heavy steps of your lover and a sigh leaving his lips. Your back was facing him still, and you didn't dare to look at him, figuring he was busy changing his clothes judging by the shuffling sound of fabric.

The slight squeak of the mattress brought a bitter grin to your lips as you spoke up. "Not even gonna talk to me?"

He was quiet for a full minute. "Sorry. I'm tired, sweetheart."

"Of me?"

"What?" he sounded surprised. "Wha- why would I be tired of you?"

"I don't know." you sighed. "You've been acting incredibly distant for the past week. Figured I was tiring you out."

Another squeak, he was on his feet now. Slowly walking towards you, he rested a hand on the small of your back, but you still didn't look at him. You wouldn't admit that to yourself but you really didn't want to know the truth.

"Don't be ridiculous," he spoke, tone quiet. "It's just that… The missions, you know how they-"

"We went through rougher missions back then," you chuckled. "On the verge of death, covered in blood. Missions that went on for months. You didn't treat me like this then."

"How am I treating you?"

"Like I'm a fucking nuisance!" you finally snapped, pushing his hand away from your body before turning towards him. Your eyes were wide with anger, chest heaving. "You're treating me like you don't even want to see me!"

"You're my girlfriend!" he was bewildered, albeit a bit guilty. "Of course I want to see you, what the fuck are you even talking about?!"

A scoff left your lips. "Fuck that! You used to treat me better when we were barely friends," you watched him look away, annoyed. "I've been trying to give you some space but you- you just won't tell me shit! You're barely talking to me, anyway! How the hell am I supposed to know what I did wrong if you won't even talk to me, Bucky?!"

Bucky felt his heart getting heavier. "Stop assuming that you did something wrong-"

"Then what else?! What else can I assume? For fuck's sake, am I supposed to assume that there's someone else, or you're just- you're just sick of me. That you don't need me anymore, is that what I'm supposed to think?" you could feel the tears building up by your waterline. "Fucking hell, it'd hurt way less if I was sure that it's all my fault! Or- even if you were- I just- just tell me what the fuck is wrong with you, please?"

"Nothing!" he was loud, suddenly. The sudden outburst had you taking a step back in instinct, and he panicked so hard for a moment that he almost took a step towards you.

He knew he shouldn't.

"Nothing, okay? Just one of those weeks. Leave it alone."

"Fine." you sighed. "Fine, I'll leave it alone. I'll leave you alone, Bucky, to figure your shit out and- please, for the love of God, don't talk to me until you do. I'm done being treated like garbage." and with a final shove to his chest, you walked out of the door.

Bucky knew that he deserved that.

Hell, he deserved a solid punch for the way he was treating you but he didn't know how else to act. He didn't know what else to do. He was so sick of worrying, being in a constant state of paranoia because of you, so sick of his heart hurting like someone reached right into his chest and severed it off whenever you got hurt.

Was he protecting himself, or you?

"Hey," Sam swiftly sat by Bucky's side with a bowl of cereal on his palms, not giving the other a chance to walk away before speaking up again. "You good? You look like… Hell, I can't sugarcoat this. You look like absolute shit."

Bucky felt like absolute shit.

"I'm fine." he muttered, eyes trained on the big TV screen in front of them. The compound had been pretty quiet for the past few weeks, with the main troublemakers scattered around the globe for a mission.

Sam saw right through his bullshit, though. "Your girl ain't talking to you?"

"None of your business."

"She looks like absolute shit too."

Bucky took a moment to process that.

"Did you guys fight?"

"Again, none of your business, Sam." heaving a sigh, Bucky slowly pushed himself up to his feet, leaving Sam sitting on the couch all alone. Natasha, who was busy making herself something to eat to get through lunch, decided to chime in after Bucky managed to take a few steps away.

"You push her away the second things get hard and then wonder why she hates you."

If looks could kill, Bucky's would murder everyone in that room under three seconds. "She doesn't hate me."

"You want her to hate you."

"Bullshit."

"Because you hate yourself. Isn't that it?"

Sam's eyes were wide when he looked at Natasha. She was the one to deliver a hard kick on the shin when one needed it, tough-loving and relentless with her words- not to hurt the other, but to give them a chance to see things from a different perspective.

When Bucky didn't say anything, Natasha decided to continue. "I don't know how you're justifying this in that 'cyborg' brain but you don't have one single right to punish her. For absolutely no reason, too."

"Natasha-"

"Shut it, Sam." she shook her head. "We get it, you don't like fights. But I never took you for a coward, James, and you're not being anything else but that with the way you're refusing to fight for her."

Nobody said anything else for a solid minute, while Natasha kept glaring at Bucky. His eyes were on the ground now, the harsh nature of Natasha's words hitting him right across the chest- and it hurt. It hurt bad, because he knew that he was hurting you on purpose. "How do I make it right?"

"In my opinion? Leave her the fuck alone-"

"No, no. Natasha, calm your horses," Sam got up from where he was seated, approaching the two with a relaxed expression to calm them both down. "Just tell her how you feel, man. Be real with her. Be completely honest- if you don't love her anymore, just say so. If that's not the case, then-"

"I love her, Sam."

A soft sigh left Sam's lips. "I know. Just talk to her. She'll understand."

Bucky shook his head in a nod. The idea of talking to you was nerve-wracking, to say the least. You hadn't talked to him in a week, despite living in the same compound. Didn't even dare to step into your shared room when he was there, instead deciding to take on a vacant room for a while and get your work done in silence.

You were afraid of continuing that argument, honestly. Because you and Bucky- you two weren't the type to argue. Problems would be solved in peace at all times, with both parties admitting to their faults. So when that dynamic changed, it freaked you out. Just like how falling in love with you freaked out Bucky.

"FRIDAY," Bucky called out. "Where's Y/N?"

An automated voice answered immediately. "I'm afraid that information is classified." Bucky tensed up quicker than he'd like to admit.

"What?" Sam muttered under his breath, gaze finding Natasha's confused one. Natasha spoke up not too long afterwards. "What do you mean by classified?"

"Mr. Stark specifically requested that I keep Mrs. Y/L/N's current location confidential."

"Fucking hell," Bucky heaved a sigh. "Have any of you seen her today?"

"Nah," with a shrug, Sam walked towards the counter to set down his bowl of cereal, suddenly not interested in the food but rather, your whereabouts. "Last I saw her… Yesterday evening, yeah. She was leaving Tony's office, didn't say anything."

"Where did she go after that?"

"Man, how would I know? I'm not keepin' tabs on your girlfriend, that's your job."

"FRIDAY, where's Tony?" Natasha ignored the two, focusing on the matter at hand. For all she knew, you weren't the one to keep secrets from the team. Even on solo missions, you would always keep your tracker on just in case.

"In his office. Shall I inform Mr. Stark of your visit?"

"Nope." lips pressed into a thin line, and a not-so-apologetic shrug. Typical Tony Stark nature. "Just because you live here doesn't mean you have to know everything."

"But she's my girlfriend."

"Just because she made that mistake doesn't mean you have to know everything, Barnes." Tony quipped. "If anyone else in this room was on her position and I were to give away your location, which she specifically made sure that I wouldn't tell, I would be murdered horrendously."

"It's not like her to do that." Natasha's tone was way softer than Bucky's, understandably. She was mad at Bucky and worried about you at the same time but still, keeping her cool was an art form and she was doing it beautifully. "We're just worried, that's all."

"You don't seem like her parents to me."

"Would you tell us if we were her parents?"

"Wilson, use your head. Of course I wouldn't." plopping down on his seat with a huff, Tony rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you'd beg to differ but I'm a very virtuous and excruciatingly handsome man, and I made a promise, so… The door is right behind you. I got a lot of stuff to do."

The sound of Bucky's palm meeting the desk separating him from Tony caused everyone's eyes to find his, including Tony. "You have to give me something."

"I don't owe you anything." Tony's words were like venom as they dripped from his tongue, his challenging gaze on Bucky's rampageous one. "But if you really, really want her to hate all of you, fine. She's on a solo mission."

"A solo mission?! You sent her on a solo mission?!" Sam was quick to grab Bucky by the arm, pulling him back a little.

"Man, calm down-"

"Last time I checked, she was perfectly capable of handling a mission and taking care of herself." Tony spoke, calm despite the furious man standing in front of him. "She wanted to go. Why the hell would I say no?"

"Bucky, he's right." Natasha pushed herself up from the wall she was leaning on. Signaling for Sam to possibly take Bucky out of the office with her eyes, she approached the desk. "I'm sure she's fine and she only did that just so you wouldn't go after her."

"Yeah," Sam continued. "Let's just- let's get you out of here. She'll be back before you know it."

Tony didn't miss the glare Bucky sent his way when he left the office with Sam.

Feeling Natasha's judgmental eyes on him, he looked up at her, leaning back on his seat comfortably. "Do you need anything?"

"What are you hiding?"

"Nothing, except for her location."

"No," Natasha shook her head. "It's obvious you didn't tell us everything. I'm not expecting you to, but I've known you for a long time, Tony. I can see it when you're leaving a crucial part out."

A sigh left Tony's lips.

"She's indeed on a solo mission. A mission that I know absolutely nothing about, and she disabled her own tracker."

"Are you sure nobody knows you're here?"

"God, Clint, what's with all the secrecy?" you weren't even sure your hushed whisper was heard by Clint, crowded streets of Hong Kong were noisy enough to usher a headache within you. You hadn't seen him in a while, with him retiring again, and God he retired a lot, but after receiving a message with 'emergency, don't tell anybody.' and coordinates, you rushed to his aid rather immediately.

You owed him a lot.

Following him to a small apartment building as he pushed the door open, you looked behind to see if anybody was following, before climbing up the stairs with him. "What's going on?"

"Extraction." he whispered. "Kind of a sensitive one. Tony didn't want anyone involved."

"I really think Laura should lock you up sometimes."

"So do I, kid."

Your time spent in his small hideout apartment was filled with intel and planning. It was supposed to be a very quiet mission, a sensitive one like he mentioned earlier- a swift infiltration to save a former SHIELD agent from where he was held prisoner, just so he could return to his research.

You didn't quite understand why Tony wouldn't want anyone to be involved and to save the agent, but you weren't going to ask. You trusted Clint, sometimes more than you did Tony, and if Clint told you that what he's doing was right, then you'd believe him.

The next day, with both of you suited up, his arrows ready and your secret knives hidden beneath layers of fabric all around your body; the quiet approach to the building went pretty smoothly. He kept telling you to keep your cool and to keep it quiet. This was a stealth op, and made sure to assure you that you were excellent at those.

Except, for all the stealth operations, your partner was Bucky. He was the one who knew exactly what you were going to do without needing you to tell him, he was the one who fought by your side, in so much sync with you that it felt like you two were one mind split to two bodies. You felt safer when he was by your side, calm enough to perform better.

You didn't tell Clint that. You didn't tell him that you felt way too insecure without Bucky by your side to perform well.

He was expecting your help, and you were going to deliver.

Except, things took a turn for the worse far too quickly. You got into the room in which the agent was kept, with Clint following from far behind to keep you safe; and saved the agent from his restraints. Before you could lead him out, though, you heard Clint telling you to stop taking your time because apparently, a swarm of people were coming your way, and he had to hide.

You helped the agent all the way down to the ground from the first floor, through the piping by the outer side of the wall and informed Clint of your current location, before spotting a few men running your way.

Pushing the agent away towards the woods where he could hide and protect himself, you pulled your gun out and managed to down at least two of the five men. You noticed one of them following the agent as the two attacked you; landing a harsh kick by one's neck before sliding out your knife and swinging it at the other's direction, but the distraction that they needed came quickly when through your in-ear, you heard Clint's voice again.

"Shit, abort. Get the hell out of there, get away from the building."

And a loud explosion right to your left followed.

Natasha was torn.

Tony's words kept replaying themselves on her head as she paced around the room, unable to decide between telling Bucky and keeping it to herself. She didn't know what she would be risking if she told him, but at the same time, you could get yourself in a much bigger situation and a supporting pair of eyes at solo missions were always required.

She couldn't bear the worry and uncertainty anymore.

Pushing the back door that led to the living room open with a loud thud, she found Bucky by the kitchen area, and Sam by the couch, watching the afternoon news. "I need to tell you guys something."

Bucky perked up at that, pulling himself away from his moping state to get back up on his feet, and walk towards the couch where Natasha approached. "She disabled her own tracker. Tony has no idea where she is, or what she's doing."

"Shit, how are we supposed to find her, then?" Sam slowly got up from where he was seated in worry. But before any of them could say anything else, a loud explosion sound snatched their attention and brought it to the screen.

"Earlier this morning, a lab explosion took place in a Hong Kong biochemistry lab, for reasons unknown. Public CCTV footage shows two unidentified individuals breaking into the building only ten minutes before the blast."

"Isn't that-"

"Damn it," Natasha whispered. "God fucking damn it, Barton."

No matter how fast the Quinjet was, Bucky felt like they couldn't get there quick enough. His heart was basically beating through his ribs, brain pumping adrenaline into every single bit of his veins as he watched the jet decrease altitude. The news didn't even provide the number of casualties, and the fact that he wasn't sure if you made it out of there alive or not was eating him alive.

The fact that he didn't get to make things right with you beforehand was outright torture.

The jet landed on a clearing by the woods, pretty close to the remote building in which the explosion took place. Bucky's strut seemed like it was made out of steel, as if nothing in this world could even attempt to stop him as he walked in front, Natasha and Sam following close behind. It had been at least twenty hours since the blast, and if you were dead, you'd be identified, right?

The news of your passing would be all over the world by now, right?

"I know where they might be hiding," Natasha spoke up, a bit breathless from having to catch up with Bucky's fast steps. "Clint has a hideout apartment, not too far from here."

"Fuck!" your loud cry was enough to land a grimace on Clint's face, as he let out soft shushes, trying his best to wrap your injuries up.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." he mumbled, taping down the bandage wrapped around your thigh before giving it a slight pat. "Just a contusion. I know it hurts but you could have it much worse."

"I know, but it still hurts, you idiot!"

"And whose fault is that? Not mine!"

Letting your head fall back on the cushion with a thud, you let out a slight groan. "How's the agent?"

"Called somebody to pick him up," he sighed, pulling himself up from the floor to sit next to your laid out figure. "I genuinely didn't know that they had explosives laid out through the building. Some sort of eradication. Must've been big, whatever they were hiding."

"Couldn't really keep it quiet, huh?"

"Unfortunately," he chuckled. "But we saved him, at least. Probably going to get an earful from Tony when he finds out… But you did a good job. Thanks for coming."

"Didn't have anything better to do," a grin made its way to your lips. "Don't even wanna go back, if I'm being honest."

A frown took over his features. "Did something happen?" and he continued, when your only response was a slight nod. "Bucky?"

"That easy to guess, huh?"

"Nothing else has an impact on you," a soft chuckle followed. "It'll be fine. You two- you shouldn't lose each other. Not over anything."

"I don't know if I can make sure of that anymore, Clint."

"Look, I'm saying this from a man's point of view," he repositioned himself on where he was seated, now completely facing you. "And I don't ever want you to think that I'm sexist or something, but, um… We're different. In a bad way- we're not… Complicated like your kind."

"My kind? Okay, now that's-"

"No, shut up, you know what I mean," he laughed. "Every single woman that I had the pleasure of meeting knew what they wanted. Maybe it was a bit rough around the edges, maybe it was just a scaffolding but there was a plan. There was an… expectation of how things are supposed to go, you know?"

A short silence followed. "And because of that scaffolding, you folks don't freak out as much as we do. And when you do, you still make sense. We don't. We freak out over the smallest inconvenience and everything goes shit because we don't know how to restructure our own plans that quickly. We take longer to adapt. Because we're a bit more primitive, does that make sense?"

You smiled at him, earnestly. "That's… vague, but it makes perfect sense. Thanks."

His hand found yours then, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry about it."

That night, Clint woke up to footsteps across the apartment. He was sleeping on the armchair by the side of the bedroom, making sure that you were safe on his bed since you had to take a pill or two to manage the pain and fall asleep quicker.

Quickly getting up to his feet, he grabbed the pistol he placed on your nightstand earlier, slowly pulling the door open- only to find Natasha, with a gun in her hand, seemingly relieved to see Clint.

Clint brought his finger up to his lips, signaling the room as to let her know that you were asleep. "What are you doing here?" he whispered.

"That was a sloppy op, don't you think?" Natasha whispered back, teasing. "Gotta warn you, Barnes will be here in a couple of minutes and he's going to be mad, Clint."

"Let him be," he sighed. "She's-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the front door got pushed open, revealing a worried and seething Bucky and an apologetic Sam following suit, shutting the door slowly after the other. "Where is she?"

"She's in the bedroom-" Clint stepped in front of the door, shutting and guarding it. "She's exhausted. Be quiet."

"Why the fuck is she with you?"

"Hey, not like I kidnapped her, alright?" Clint rolled his eyes, still speaking as quietly as he could. "I needed her help and I couldn't call anybody else. I'm sorry I kept your girlfriend away from you for literally two days, Barnes."

Bucky took a step back, heaving a deep sigh. He was angry, angry at you, angry at Clint, angry at himself… Yet he didn't know where to direct that anger. He didn't know how to calm this feeling down. "Why didn't she tell anybody? Not even Tony- what the hell did you make her do that she felt like she needed to hide from everyone?"

A scoff left Natasha. "Bucky, stop making assumptions."

"No- you know what?" Bucky was getting louder by the second, and nobody in the room had the guts to shush him down. "My girl doesn't hide anything from me, ever. I need to know what was so important that she had to turn her tracker off and you had to lead her into a building full of explosives."

"How the hell was I supposed to know that the lab would explode?!"

"You were supposed to make sure that it's-"

"Bucky?" your frowning, sleepy figure appeared by the door that everyone was too busy watching the argument to notice opening. Bucky's gaze visibly softened when he saw you, tense shoulders relaxing before Clint stepped out of the way and with a few steps, he approached you to pull you into his embrace.

You didn't hug him back at first- instead sending a confused look to the rest, to which Sam shrugged as a response. "Are you okay?"

"No, are you okay?" he asked, pulling away to get a good look at your figure. A few cuts and the bandage by your thigh was visible as you were just wearing one of Clint's old shirts and underwear. "Are you okay?" he asked again, tone more stern this time.

"I'm fine," you pushed his hands off of you. "Why the fuck were you yelling at Clint?"

"Yeah, alright, have that conversation without us," Clint sighed, pushing the two of you into the bedroom gently before offering you a small wave and shutting the door, to give you some privacy.

Bucky sighed before looking at you again, wanting so bad to just cup your cheeks and leave kisses all over your face- but he knew he fucked up, and you were mad. "I was worried about you. You left without a word, and when I heard that your tracker was off-"

"I don't owe anyone any explanation." your tone was harsh. "And I'm sorry if I thought that you wouldn't give a shit, Bucky. You made it pretty obvious that you wanted me to leave you alone."

"I never said that," he ran his fingers through his hair, trying his best to stay calm and work this out- but you were almost as stubborn as him, if not more. "I never- I care about you, alright? You're my girlfriend, and you should've told me where you were going."

You shook your head to both sides in disbelief. "You're not entitled to that."

"Y/N-"

"No, you're seriously not entitled to knowing anything about me. Not when you have the audacity to treat me like I'm nothing more than an absolute stranger, and then to not even make an effort to talk to me for a whole week."

"I freaked out, alright?!" he sighed. "I was fucking terrified because- because of you!"

"How the hell is that my fault?!"

"It's your fault! You're the one who made me fall in love with you!" he was loud, and you got cryptically quiet.

He never dropped the L-word before.

"It's your fucking fault because I can't stop thinking about you, I can't stop worrying about you, I can't stop making everything about you and it's putting everyone in danger!" you were biting back a smile now, as he kept ranting. "Including you! I can't- do you have any idea how hard it is to look at you and not just burst into tears because oh my fucking God, you're the love of my life and-"

You cut him off with a kiss to his lips, your hands cupping his face. He was shocked at first, unable to comprehend the sudden switch from arguing to kissing, but he wasn't going to complain. Wrapping his arms around your body delicately, he deepened the kiss, exhaling softly against your mouth when your fingers massaged the nape of his neck.

"You're such a fucking idiot," you whispered against his lips. "You're like, the dumbest person I've ever met. Your IQ is so low that-"

"Okay, okay. I get it." he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm sorry. I genuinely am. I'm sorry for making you feel like I don't love you- because I do, I love you so much that it's physically painful."

"I thought you were tougher than that, Bucky."

"I'm just a coward, honey." with a shrug, he pulled you closer to his embrace. "I'm just a fucking coward, nothing more. But you know what? Seeing you so angry at me, telling me that I don't deserve to know anything about you- that hurt more. I guess I- I really can't be without you."

"I can't be without you either," you sighed. "I've been so cranky, just ask Clint."

"Oh, I'm still kicking his ass."

"No, Buck," a soft giggle left your lips. "He actually plays a grand part in me forgiving you. And he's one of my favorite people in this whole world, so, I won't hesitate to punch you if you ever yell at him again."

"In that case, I'm thanking him. And kicking his ass in my head."

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dimepdf · 2 years

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐑. + 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

synopsis. with the aid of the Avengers and his closest friend Steve, Bucky was able to regain some of his memories before Hydra, but the nightmares of the young girl he had left behind continued to haunt him. Bucky's trauma was deeply ingrained in the spaces of the Hydra facility, thinking about the little soldier who had been on the run and had no interest in her powers or Hydra stuck in his mind.

pairing. james 'bucky' barnes x reader

genre and warnings. ex hydra!reader, kid fic, major angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, descriptions of violence, minor character death, mentions of murder, manipulation, brainwashing, kidnapping, trauma, more tags will be added in future chapters.

status. ongoing ─ coming soon

─── ☆ chapter one: .

wip

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heliads · 1 year

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Iced Out Mind (Part Two)

Based on this request: "A second part of Iced Out Mind. Snowstorm is still an active superhero. Y/N and Isaac watch John Walker become the new Captain America. Sam, Bucky, and Y/N see John use the shield to kill one of the Flag Smashers. Y/N calls Isaac and gives him an update. Sam invites Bucky, Y/N, and Isaac to the pier."

part one / masterlist

Isaac Lahey was not supposed to get this far. No, really, he wasn’t.

The way he thought about it, the way he has always thought about it, Isaac was destined for an early grave. That’s what it means to be anything but human, after all, to know that your life is on the line every single time you draw breath. Isaac always assumed that a hunter or other rival werewolf would get him at some point, so he never much bothered with making future plans. Why think about the life you could have if you know you’ll never be able to stick around long enough to make it real?

So, when Isaac blinks one day and realizes that he’s only a handful of years away from thirty, long out of high school and somewhat distant from his college graduation, he has to take a moment or two to steady himself. This is defying the odds to the max. Isaac was meant to die the second he received the bite, and yet somehow, he hasn’t. How do you go about your normal life with a declaration like that?

It is enough to drive anyone a little mad, but fortunately, Isaac has a fairly good support system set up to keep him from losing it. He still stays in contact with the Beacon Hills clan, even if he doesn’t see them all that often anymore. Most of Scott’s pack still stays on the west coast, pretending they can escape that life just long enough to come spiraling back down when yet another attack happens.

Sometimes, Isaac wonders if he’s unreasonably selfish to think that he should be the one to get to leave it all behind when everyone else has to stay there forever, trapped in that cycle of healing and hurting, protecting and dying, all in the same strains as before. Surely he is not be the one to deserve a release. Surely the free man should be Scott, whom the world owes everything, or Allison, who should have gotten the chance to live into her twenties, or any one of those friends who Isaac sees more often on a Christmas card than in real life.

Yet it’s him nonetheless, him standing in an apartment in New York City and wondering how he got this lucky. Members of the pack come up every now and then, it’s not like Isaac is totally cut off. They’ll visit about once a year or so, every trip up the same. Some old friend stands on Isaac’s streets and murmurs something about how wild the city is. They’ll stay a few days then send themselves back down to exile in the hunter’s land of Beacon Hills. Isaac always offers to keep them longer. At least here, they’re mostly out of danger, but no one ever takes him up on it.

He’s been able to shrug most of his survivor’s guilt from his shoulders through the slow realization that all of his friends want the danger, in some way. They feel called to it. If they cannot protect others, how can they protect themselves? It may end in their early deaths, and for some, it already has, but they would choose that path over and over again anyway.

They’re not the only ones to share in such a fate. Isaac turns and walks further into his apartment, where his eyes rest on another survivor. Y/N L/N, once a stranger he’d seen on the news and then a friend he’d wanted to keep more than any other, is now more to Isaac than he ever imagined possible. After that first meeting in a diner after Isaac had accidentally realized that she was Snowstorm, one of the Avengers, they kept crossing paths.

Soon enough, Isaac realized that he didn’t ever want to go through another goodbye at the end of a wonderful date, that he wished they could have a world in which he connected one hour after another, an endless string of moments in which it was just the two of them. Nothing more, nothing less. He wanted her forever, even if Isaac’s forevers tend to find themselves broken after a matter of years.

Nothing has happened to ruin them yet, however. Even daring to voice the thought in his head seems like a great temptation of fate to Isaac, but he stands by it anyway. Let this be a promise to a world that has only ever hurt him: Isaac chooses the good now, the happy ending. He will have what he wants, and that will be the love of his life. He can have his contented resolution with Y/N L/N, and there is absolutely nothing that can get in the way of that.

That won’t stop Fate from trying, though. For now, they’re alright. Isaac holds out an arm to the girl he loves, and she leans into him. He’s long since learned to stop taking it personally when Y/N’s heartbeat flares for a brief instant of panic every time someone comes as close to her as Isaac dares. Those are just the habits of a bygone era, if one that still haunts her every time she thinks about it. Y/N is a product of the labs, and Isaac will never hold that against her.

They’ve gotten better, the two of them. Y/N may never forgive the world for loving the torture she was put through all in the name of receiving super powers. Isaac may never stop flinching away from full moons and even the barest hint of someone who could be a hunter. The system made them like this, and the system stops them from being fully human, both in physical composition and mental habits.

They’re used to it, though, and they’re used to each other. If you have to be an outsider in a world that was once your own, Isaac has found that it’s best to do it with someone you care about by your side. That’s why Isaac is able to look at Y/N’s left hand and smile at the ring on her finger. It’s a promise he made to her about a month or two ago that he would never stop trying to make her feel at home, even on the days when she’s sure that she would never belong anywhere but a battleground. It’s an oath that he intends to take to his grave.

He spent a fair amount of time picking out the ring, too. Everything had to be perfect for Y/N, you know? The stone itself is crystalline white, one bit of ice and snow that Y/N can accept by the virtue of her own choice instead of being shaped only from bad memories. It’s a way to reclaim all that she has been through, a way to make it her own. Isaac intends to be with her throughout that journey, and this ring symbolizes his decision to make that permanent.

He doesn’t entirely know when the wedding will happen. With lives like theirs, important dates tend to get sidetracked. He does know that it will occur one day, though, and even such a casual promise as that is enough for Isaac. They’re both looking forward to it and that’s enough for now.

Isaac would be fine with spending the rest of today, and perhaps all days after it, in standing here in easy tandem with Y/N, breathing in and out in unison. They can push off the world and its difficulties for another month. It will find other martyrs to damn in their absence.

However, the call to action is impossible to ignore, especially when it comes in the form of the alarming news broadcast currently radiating out from the TV in the corner of their apartment. They have a habit of leaving it on in case they see something related to either the supernatural world or the Avengers or some combination of both, and they aren’t disappointed now.

A man named John Walker looms onscreen, proudly decked out in stars and stripes. He carries a round vibranium shield, the very one that was supposed to be in a museum as dictated by Sam Wilson. That declaration doesn’t seem to have stopped John Walker from being appointed as the new Captain America, however.

Y/N tenses. “This isn’t good.”

Isaac tilts his head to the side. “Because it’s disrespecting Steve’s legacy?”

Her lips press together as she thinks. “Partially. Also because it’s disrespecting Sam. If this Walker guy has the shield, it means Sam wasn’t consulted on this in the slightest. People are just setting up heroes as puppets whose strings they can pull whenever they decide on it. I have a feeling that this isn’t going to end well.”

As if to prove her point, Y/N’s phone goes off. She checks the screen and reads off a few disgruntled messages from Bucky Barnes, no surprises there. If there’s one guy who’d hate to see Steve’s shield tossed around by some imposter, it would have to be the original Captain America’s childhood friend.

Isaac would like to think that this whole situation would blow itself over in due time. Maybe Walker would realize that the spangled uniform isn’t worth the risks, or that being Captain America is a dream that no one other than Steve Rogers can actualize.

However, the passage of time only brings with it more problems, not less. The arrival of a mysterious group called the Flag Smashers tears Y/N from her quiet epilogue with Isaac and towards the fight once more. Isaac can see it in her face, how much she hates the fact that she will never be free of conflict. Y/N has tried to wash her hands of all this blood more than once, and no matter how many times people promise that this one will be her last job, really, they just keep calling.

It’s not even Sam or Bucky’s fault this time. The unhappy fact of life is that peace will always need to be defended, and there’s no one better for the job than Y/N. The world will always be some desperate thing one inch from death, and it rewards its protectors with yet another cause to hurt. Isaac insists on going with her, and it takes Y/N reminding him on about a dozen occasions how bad it would be if he was revealed as a werewolf on camera for him to be convinced to stay at home.

The least Isaac can do is take up the mantle of neighborhood protector while Y/N is out. They’ve done this a few times before, actually, patrolling the streets of the city in search of criminals to punish. With Isaac’s reflexes and skills with fighting, he makes a decent hero. He never thought of such a title, but Y/N makes him want to pursue it more than ever.

Such is the life of Isaac Lahey without his best girl; he stops carjackers, he beats thieves into more of a pulp than is strictly necessary. He’s just stressed, that’s all. Stressed and terrified that this might be Y/N’s last war, not because she’s finally no longer bound to the unspoken rules that Avengers will fight until their last but because she will actually be at her last. Isaac can’t lose Y/N. He doesn’t even want to think about it.

Y/N will not be the one who is lost, however. She calls him, dazed, just a short while later. She doesn’t even have to explain the cause for her concern, Isaac already knows. It’s hard to think about anything other than the fact that the latest Captain America pretender has brutally murdered a man, and that the clips are spreading like wildfire across the Internet. The second Isaac saw the news, he just pulled out his phone and waited.

Y/N called about thirty seconds after Isaac found it out. He can hear from her stuttering responses, the way his usually confident fiancée is now tripping over herself in a failing effort to relate just how horrifying all of this is, that she’s been severely affected. Who wouldn’t be affected, after all? To see that in person? Isaac feels sick to his stomach and he wasn’t even there. Y/N had to watch all of that go down.

In a way, she says at last, she was expecting something like this to happen. Clearly not on the level of bloodlust that she just witnessed, but something. Walker was bound to snap. That’s what happens when you spend all this time surrounded by people who aren’t human and feel like you have to convince yourself that you’re fine with it, after all. Isaac saw it with the hunters, and he sees it with John Walker now. At some point, you get so desperate to prove that you’re human that you do something to show that you’re anything but. Walker may have set out to change the world as a regular man, but what he has now done has made him a monster.

They’re only able to talk for a brief while before Y/N has to go. Damage control has to make its rounds, and now Sam’s finally in agreement with Bucky and Y/N that they need to take back the shield before Walker does anything worse. Y/N texts a while later that the deed is done, no specifics mentioned. Isaac doesn’t need to hear the intricacies of her heartbeat with the clarity of supernatural hearing to know how rattled she is by the whole encounter.

Despite his strongest, deepest fears, Y/N does come back to him. A little quieter, a little more shaken, but she is there nonetheless. That’s all Isaac could ever ask for. He has had years of watching his friends shrink away into nothingness because they felt like they could only ever walk towards their impending sacrifice. If he can provide a home for Y/N to return to at the end of missions like that one, well, Isaac would give his own life to make sure it would happen.

The situation does have a happy ending, after all, or at least the closest any of them can truly come to a happy ending: peace. Sam Wilson has a place out in Louisiana, a corner of the world where the sunsets are always golden and the laughter always flows free and long. There, undisturbed, Isaac and Y/N get to experience a Wilson family dinner out on the pier. They talk for hours. Isaac may never have met some of these people before, but he walks away from it all thinking that this is it, this is what a home should feel like.

It reminds Isaac that they’re going to be okay. They are all destined to die at some point, heroes and supernaturals alike, but somewhere in between their rude awakenings and their eventual last breaths, there are moments like these when all is well. Perhaps Isaac will meet his fate tomorrow, or in a month, or not for many years. Regardless, he can face it with open arms. It might be the first time in his life that such acceptance has come over him, but he can guess at why. Isaac is not alone, nor will he ever be alone. No claws or fangs have ever protected him as much as that blessed knowledge.

requested by @thornyrose463, i hope you enjoy!

teen wolf tag list: @thatfangirl42, @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @rafecameronswhore, @bellabadacadabra, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @23victoria

#isaac lahey #isaac lahey imagines #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey oneshot #teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf oneshot #teen wolf isaac #teen wolf isaac imagines #teen wolf isaac x reader #teen wolf isaac oneshot #mcu crossover #marvel crossover #tfatws

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