Request: Anon- Bucky Barnes and “I love you more than anything in this world” pleas❤️
Word Count: 502
Author: Charlotte
Hospitals rooms were almost like a second home for you. Fighting crime and being a general badass led to regular injuries and as long as you could come out of the hospital at some point it seemed like a win. Whenever you went on missions, you were almost certain to get hurt, so you just hoped for minor injuries but this time it wasn’t as you had wanted. You had been distracted in the midst of a fight that you hadn’t noticed a different person with a gun. The bullet had ripped through your abdomen, leaving you in a pool of your own blood. You had luckily not been alone, and Bucky had been able to take them both out before getting you medical assistance, but past him calling for help, you had lost consciousness.
When you had awoken, the bright lights of the hospital room burned your eyes terribly. Next to you sat Bucky, whilst a woman in a nurse’s uniform stood sorting out the machine that you were hooked up to. You tried to sit up, but both of the people rushed to your side to gently push you back into the bed.
“You need your rest,” the nurse said softly. “You have been given some pretty strong pain medication, so you might feel drowsy or confused. I’ll just go get your doctor to explain everything for you now that you’re awake.”
She shuffled out of the room, leaving you alone with Bucky. He seemed relieved to see you awake, having seen the extent of the damage that the shot had done to you.
“How are you feeling?” He asked.
The nurse had been right, your mind seemed like it was in a fog, and you didn’t seem to have any energy to fight off the thoughts that came into your head from escaping out of your mouth.
“I’m glad you’re here,” you smiled, struggling to keep your eyes fully open. “I wouldn’t want anyone else here.”
Bucky didn’t really know what you meant seen as you hadn’t answered his question at all.
“Of course, I wasn’t going to leave you here on your own.”
You lazily held onto his hand, your grip weak and half of your fingers fallen from his palm.
“I love you more than anything in this world,” you whispered.
It had been something you had felt for as long as you had known him but seen as you were unable to control your thoughts, you let yourself say more than you had ever thought you could until you regretted it all when the medication had worn off. Little had you known, he had felt the same, but he couldn’t help but feel disappointed to learn of your feelings now that you weren’t fully there in your mind.
With a pained heart, he gave your hand a tight squeeze. “When you feel better, we can talk about it.”
You nodded your head before your eyelids finally became too heavy for you to fight to keep open.
Request: Anon- Bucky Barnes and “I put everything on hold for you”
Word Count: 1070
Author: Charlotte
As they saying goes ‘tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. You couldn’t have agreed any less with that status. When you first met James Buchanan Barnes, you fell head over heels and your courtship was completely perfect in your eyes. He had a kind and loving heart, and made you feel good about yourself in ways you hadn’t without him. You couldn’t have imagined life without him, not even when he was to head off to war, you felt unstoppable, and would have sworn that he would come home to you, and you only felt that confirmed when he proposed to you before he got on the train to leave for the army.
By no means were you naïve. You knew the dangers of war, even with the main fight far away from you, you were not blind to the damage it was causing but the fog of young love forbade you from thinking that even war could get in the way of the two of you. How blind you had been. He didn’t return to you and the reality of that never truly set in, such an intense pain could not be felt without destroying you. Steve apologised for losing him, for not having done more but you didn’t blame him, you were just grateful that he was safe.
Your life crumbled from that day. Who you had been as the future Mrs Barnes was lost with your fiancé, and you were just left as a shell of the person you once were. You needed a distraction and Steve introduced you to his friend Peggy who was able to find you a job and once he disappeared, you only went deeper into it.
Once the war ended, the rumours of something continuing to rumble under the surface and as people had once believed the research into super soldiers weren’t put on hold. You had nothing else to live for and put yourself forward for being a guinea pig, not caring about what happened to you. You didn’t die though, you suffered the experiments, but you came out as a new you, still damaged by the pain in your heart, still grieving and anger-filled but now with unknown levels of powers. The scientists had put you through strenuous tests after to see what had happened to you, and as your powers became clearer, you did what your fiancé had always done best, fought for the little guy.
You’d never be Captain America, but you were a hero to New York, able to use your powers for good, keeping your head down in fighting crime, never getting close to another person again. One power they hadn’t anticipated was longevity. It wasn’t clear at first, not until everyone around you had aged a decade, and you looked like not a day had passed. With every year it only became clearer that you were still physically in your mid-twenties whilst everyone else continued to age. Over seven decades later, you could only be grateful for having not made connections as those you had grown up with were mainly passed, whilst you looked like you were still in your prime.
It felt like you would be hero for eternity, keeping to yourself but helping all that you could. One night you returned to your small apartment and flicked on the tv to see that Steve Rogers had exited the ice and all the past came back. You didn’t contact him. You couldn’t but after he was making headlines for a few years, you no longer had a choice as he had heard of the woman with powers in his hometown and investigated. He could have never imagined that it would be you. You reconnected reluctantly but dismissed him whenever he mentioned Bucky, not believing him when he told you he was still alive and not willing to let yourself get hurt again.
Steve knew how much you cared about Bucky and wasn’t going to let you continue to dwell in the pain that had consumed you for nearly a century. He invited you to the Avengers Compound, just for a chat, and you agreed, not realising it was a set up. You sat with him sipping at your coffee when the door behind Steve opened, revealing the man you had mourned for longer than you had been by his side.
“Bucky,” you croaked, the mug from your hand dropping, shattering onto the ground below you.
“Y/N,” he said, a pained smile curling onto his lips.
Every emotion that you had tried to bury deep down within you all that time ago reappeared and you lost all control that you had tried to cling onto. You pushed your chair away from the table, storming over towards the man you had never believed that you would see again.
“I thought you were dead,” you shouted. “I thought that I would never see you again. I put everything on hold for you.”
Bucky and Steve exchanged a look, having not had any idea that you would react like this, not knowing why you would shout at him.
“I have never stopped loving you,” you said, still shouting but tears beginning to fall down your cheek. “I could never stop loving you.”
As the sorrow you had tried to hide for so long surged from within you, Bucky reached out a hand to gently touch your shoulder, forcing you to make eye contact with him, both of you in tears.
“I’ve always loved you, doll,” he smiled tearfully.
You let yourself break, falling into his arms, in a tight, long missed embrace. The two of you stood entwined together for longer than normal, neither of you wanting to let go of the one thing that had been missing from you. The hug stretched on as Bucky guided his hands down your arms to hold onto your own hands, but paused when he felt something on your finger. He looked down at the small stone sitting on a simple band that had not been removed since he had placed it there all those years ago.
“You still have your ring,” he whispered, surprised that you had kept it for so long.
You shrugged your shoulders. “Getting cold feet after all this time, Barnes?”
A small laugh escaped him.
“I still stick by making you my wife even after the longest engagement.”
Summary:Joining the Avengers wasn’t on your plans. Not until Steve asked you to help his best friend. Bucky was Bucky, but the Winter Soldier still came from time ti time, bringing with him chaos and destruction. And you was supposed to keep that side of him away… But what happens when both Bucky and the Winter Soldier start to enjoy your company more than anyone else? Should you turn your back on the Soldier, ignore his own fears and traumas? That’s exactly what everyone wants. But you were never known for following orders…
×
“Stark called me again.” You say, a cup of tea still half full and warm in your hands. “Guess why.”
“Recruitment.” Steve sighs, putting the empty bowl of cereal on the coffee table next to his feet.
“Yup. He came with the ‘hello, how are you? How’s your job, how’s your paycheck, blah blah blah, wanna join us?’ ” Rolling your eyes, you pull your legs over, folding them under you. “Same thing as always.”
“He cares, (Y/N),” Steve says, turning the TV volume down. “On his own way, but he cares… But… Actually, (Y/N), I’ve been wanting to ask you to accept Stark’s for a different reason.”
Pinching your eyebrows together, you move to the kitchen island, sitting on the stool. “Different reason?”
“Yeah.” He heavily sighs, glancing at you before focusing on the dishes again. “You know we’re having problems with Bucky. Well… With his other side.”
“Wait.” You nervously chuckle. “You want to set me up with Barnes?” Steve’s friendship with Bucky is well known to you. They’re like brothers, and you, having the same feeling towards Steve, have the exact idea how that must feel. If it was Steve suffering from this, you’d be heartbroken. “I don’t see how I could be of any help.”
“It wasn’t my idea, not originally. The Hulk only calmed down after Banner got closer to Nat.”
“So you are trying to set me up with Barnes.” You don’t have much contact with him. You met him twice when Steve managed to make him go out and you were there too. But that was it.
“I trust you. And Bucky knows I trust you. I just think having someone by his side could help somehow.”
“Doesn’t he have the other Avengers?”
“He feels guilty because of what The Winter Soldier did to them. They’re there to help, of course, but he holds back, isolates himself. Not as much as before, but still.”
“And you think I could help him how?” Shrugging your shoulders, you wonder if you could do it. But that would also mean finally joining the Avengers. So there’s that.
“If you manage to befriend him, I think it would be enough.”
“You think tiny, little me will be enough to keep the Winter Soldier away.”
×
“What’s up, Barnes?” You ask, sitting next to him, a leg on each side of the bench as you sit sideways, facing him. “I heard the punchbag crying, you should give it a break.”
Bucky smiles a little before looking at you. “Hello, miss–”
“(Y/N).” You cut him off, pointing your bottle at him. “Call me (Y/N).”
“Call me Bucky.” He says, nodding his head. “So Steve managed to finally convince you to join the Avengers.”
“He did. But only because I was given a special mission.” Nobody intended on keeping this a secret. Bucky needs to know you care, you and Steve. “I’m here to help you.”
He furrows his eyebrows, shrugging his shoulders. “Help me? How so?”
“I–”
“Tell me it’s not about the other guy, (Y/N).” He moves to stand up, but you hold his arm, keeping him from going anywhere. “This is dangerous. I can’t believe Steve brought you into this.”
“Steve is worried about you. And it’s not like I’ll… Do something. I’m just here to… Offer you my friendship and stand by you, no matter what.” Bucky sighs, shaking his head. But he sits down again, looking at the floor. “And well, I’m with the Avengers now. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Just stay away when… He… Comes out.” Bucky says in a low, sad voice.
×
“Who are you?”
The voice, low and deep, but at the same time way too loud, breaks the silence and startles you, making your blood run cold for a second. You push the fridge door close in your desperation, eyes quickly moving to the source of the sound. There’s a figure seated on the edge of the table, alone in the dark. The only thing that helps you recognize him is the ray of blueish light that illuminates his shoulder and chest.
“Damn it, Bucky. You scared the hell out of me.” You whisper, a hand on your heart. “What are you doing here in the dark?”
“Who are you?” He asks again, and you just don’t follow.
Squinting your eyes, you tilt your head to the side a little. “Is it a joke? Like a knock-knock joke? Because I don’t get it. You should–”
You’re still speaking when he abruptly stands up, and that’s when it clicks.
Bucky doesn’t speak like this. Bucky doesn’t behave like this. Bucky doesn’t walk up to you like he’s ready to take you down.
“W-wait.” You mutter, raising a hand at him. As if it could stop him. Your eyes fall on the knife holder, but since your fighting reflexes weren’t mastered yet, he moves at the same time you do, blocking your way.
“I won’t ask a third time,” Bucky says, and the lower tone of his voice scares you. But it’s even worse when he takes a knife.
“Shit.” You mumble, slowly moving backward. Then it happens suddenly. He catches up to you, violently pushing you against the wall. A yelp leaves your lips when his metal arm lies on your chest, metal hand with a firm grip of your shoulder as his forearm presses your collarbones. It feels like he’s a rock that fell on you, making it impossible to move. “Bucky, please–”
“I’m not Bucky.” He barks, and you feel the blade against your side, right on your ribs.
“No, you’re not.” You tell him, talking fast. “You’re the Soldier.” To that, he tilts his head to the side a little, his eyes set on yours as the man towers over you. “And I swear I mean no harm.” Grinding your teeth at the pain, you wonder if he could break your collarbone or dislocate your shoulder. But you try to remain calm, slowly raising both your hands, showing him you have no gun, no weapon, nothing. “Soldiers don’t kill unarmed, defenseless women.”
“I do if I’m given the order.”
Breathing deeply, you weakly nod. “But you have no orders.” A red, floating circle gets your attention, and your eyes move from Bucky to the rectangular screen on the wall. Tony’s AI is watching. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. isolate the kitchen. Security protocol number seven.”
“Are you sure, miss (Y/N)?” He asks.
“Yes, I am.” You assure him, and you only listen as the metal doors are closed, locking you and the Winter Soldier alone.
“What are you doing?” He asks in a low voice, stepping closer to you until his whole body is pushing you against the wall, eyes never leaving yours. As if you’re some imminent threat that he needs to be aware of at all times.
Summary:Joining the Avengers wasn’t on your plans. Not until Steve asked you to help his best friend. Bucky was Bucky, but the Winter Soldier still came from time ti time, bringing with him chaos and destruction. And you was supposed to keep that side of him away… But what happens when both Bucky and the Winter Soldier start to enjoy your company more than anyone else? Should you turn your back on the Soldier, ignore his own fears and traumas? That’s exactly what everyone wants. But you were never known for following orders…
×
“Stark called me again.” You say, a cup of tea still half full and warm in your hands. “Guess why.”
“Recruitment.” Steve sighs, putting the empty bowl of cereal on the coffee table next to his feet.
“Yup. He came with the ‘hello, how are you? How’s your job, how’s your paycheck, blah blah blah, wanna join us?’ ” Rolling your eyes, you pull your legs over, folding them under you. “Same thing as always.”
“He cares, (Y/N),” Steve says, turning the TV volume down. “On his own way, but he cares… But… Actually, (Y/N), I’ve been wanting to ask you to accept Stark’s for a different reason.”
Pinching your eyebrows together, you move to the kitchen island, sitting on the stool. “Different reason?”
“Yeah.” He heavily sighs, glancing at you before focusing on the dishes again. “You know we’re having problems with Bucky. Well… With his other side.”
“Wait.” You nervously chuckle. “You want to set me up with Barnes?” Steve’s friendship with Bucky is well known to you. They’re like brothers, and you, having the same feeling towards Steve, have the exact idea how that must feel. If it was Steve suffering from this, you’d be heartbroken. “I don’t see how I could be of any help.”
“It wasn’t my idea, not originally. The Hulk only calmed down after Banner got closer to Nat.”
“So you are trying to set me up with Barnes.” You don’t have much contact with him. You met him twice when Steve managed to make him go out and you were there too. But that was it.
“I trust you. And Bucky knows I trust you. I just think having someone by his side could help somehow.”
“Doesn’t he have the other Avengers?”
“He feels guilty because of what The Winter Soldier did to them. They’re there to help, of course, but he holds back, isolates himself. Not as much as before, but still.”
“And you think I could help him how?” Shrugging your shoulders, you wonder if you could do it. But that would also mean finally joining the Avengers. So there’s that.
“If you manage to befriend him, I think it would be enough.”
“You think tiny, little me will be enough to keep the Winter Soldier away.”
×
“What’s up, Barnes?” You ask, sitting next to him, a leg on each side of the bench as you sit sideways, facing him. “I heard the punchbag crying, you should give it a break.”
Bucky smiles a little before looking at you. “Hello, miss–”
“(Y/N).” You cut him off, pointing your bottle at him. “Call me (Y/N).”
“Call me Bucky.” He says, nodding his head. “So Steve managed to finally convince you to join the Avengers.”
“He did. But only because I was given a special mission.” Nobody intended on keeping this a secret. Bucky needs to know you care, you and Steve. “I’m here to help you.”
He furrows his eyebrows, shrugging his shoulders. “Help me? How so?”
“I–”
“Tell me it’s not about the other guy, (Y/N).” He moves to stand up, but you hold his arm, keeping him from going anywhere. “This is dangerous. I can’t believe Steve brought you into this.”
“Steve is worried about you. And it’s not like I’ll… Do something. I’m just here to… Offer you my friendship and stand by you, no matter what.” Bucky sighs, shaking his head. But he sits down again, looking at the floor. “And well, I’m with the Avengers now. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Just stay away when… He… Comes out.” Bucky says in a low, sad voice.
×
“Who are you?”
The voice, low and deep, but at the same time way too loud, breaks the silence and startles you, making your blood run cold for a second. You push the fridge door close in your desperation, eyes quickly moving to the source of the sound. There’s a figure seated on the edge of the table, alone in the dark. The only thing that helps you recognize him is the ray of blueish light that illuminates his shoulder and chest.
“Damn it, Bucky. You scared the hell out of me.” You whisper, a hand on your heart. “What are you doing here in the dark?”
“Who are you?” He asks again, and you just don’t follow.
Squinting your eyes, you tilt your head to the side a little. “Is it a joke? Like a knock-knock joke? Because I don’t get it. You should–”
You’re still speaking when he abruptly stands up, and that’s when it clicks.
Bucky doesn’t speak like this. Bucky doesn’t behave like this. Bucky doesn’t walk up to you like he’s ready to take you down.
“W-wait.” You mutter, raising a hand at him. As if it could stop him. Your eyes fall on the knife holder, but since your fighting reflexes weren’t mastered yet, he moves at the same time you do, blocking your way.
“I won’t ask a third time,” Bucky says, and the lower tone of his voice scares you. But it’s even worse when he takes a knife.
“Shit.” You mumble, slowly moving backward. Then it happens suddenly. He catches up to you, violently pushing you against the wall. A yelp leaves your lips when his metal arm lies on your chest, metal hand with a firm grip of your shoulder as his forearm presses your collarbones. It feels like he’s a rock that fell on you, making it impossible to move. “Bucky, please–”
“I’m not Bucky.” He barks, and you feel the blade against your side, right on your ribs.
“No, you’re not.” You tell him, talking fast. “You’re the Soldier.” To that, he tilts his head to the side a little, his eyes set on yours as the man towers over you. “And I swear I mean no harm.” Grinding your teeth at the pain, you wonder if he could break your collarbone or dislocate your shoulder. But you try to remain calm, slowly raising both your hands, showing him you have no gun, no weapon, nothing. “Soldiers don’t kill unarmed, defenseless women.”
“I do if I’m given the order.”
Breathing deeply, you weakly nod. “But you have no orders.” A red, floating circle gets your attention, and your eyes move from Bucky to the rectangular screen on the wall. Tony’s AI is watching. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. isolate the kitchen. Security protocol number seven.”
“Are you sure, miss (Y/N)?” He asks.
“Yes, I am.” You assure him, and you only listen as the metal doors are closed, locking you and the Winter Soldier alone.
“What are you doing?” He asks in a low voice, stepping closer to you until his whole body is pushing you against the wall, eyes never leaving yours. As if you’re some imminent threat that he needs to be aware of at all times.
Summary: When your friend started dating a new guy, you didn’t think much of him, yes he was a biker, covered in tattoos, yes he had very similar friends, yet Steve was a good man, during a meeting you managed to catch the eyes of Bucky, and that’s when your life changed.
When Sharon started dating Steve, you had your doubts.
She often told you she only agreed to go out with him because he was dangerous. “Every girl likes a wild bad boy they cannot tame.” is what she said.
Although you didn’t agree with her reasoning you did agree. Every girl liked a bad boy. You just felt bad for Steve, he didn’t deserve this treatment. You only met him once when he picked up Sharon, although he had a hard exterior, the man was full of muscle and ink under his skin, yet his eyes were gentle and kind, and he spoke with such respect and kindness.
Sharon didn’t deserve Steve, even if she was your friend, you wished her happiness, but Steve was way too good for her, especially after hearing her reasons for dating him.
Steve invited you to a get together with his friends, he explained that two of his single friends will be there. And although you tried to decline, he managed to get you to agree.
So, you stood in front of your mirror, applying your make up, hair done and you already had your dress on. You were nervous but excited at the same time.
But, in the end, you decided to just have a good time.
When you arrived at the bar, Steve was already there but Sharon wasn’t, you noticed two men with Steve.
“Hi.” you said with a kind smile.
“Oh, Y/N! Lovely to see you! Come, these are my friends, Bucky and Sam.” both of them greeted you, Sam had a huge smile on his face, Bucky was more reserved as you noticed. You introduced yourself to them as Steve left to get you a drink.
The two were just like Steve, bikers, tough guys, but still kind. Both were covered in tattoos, Sam even had some on his neck, they both looked very very sexy.
They looked exactly like the kind of men your mother warned you about, and now you wanted it even more.
Sam loved to talk but he didn’t flirt with you, no he flirted with you FOR Bucky. He kept on saying how amazing Bucky is, how he wants to take you on a date and so on. You didn’t know what to say, since that wasn’t what Bucky was saying at all. He kept shaking his head and apologizing for his friend.
Then Sharon arrived, she and Steve, of course, being the only couple started to hit it off, while you spoke to Bucky and Sam, well more to Sam but Bucky was also there, paying a lot of attention.
You constantly noticed him just looking at you, not behind you, no one was behind you, you checked.
Then he stood up to get another round when Sam spoke up.
“He really does like you, I know.”
“He didn’t even speak to me.” your tipsy mind making it easier to speak.
“Maybe, but I can see it in his eyes, and I have known him for a long time, He never looked at a woman like he is looking at you.
You were doubtful, even made a face. You were about to respond when another pink cocktail landed in front of you, making you forget everything you wanted to say.
Four more pinky cocktails later, you were not wasted, but tipsy enough to laugh a bit louder, talk more freely and dance.
And oh boy, did you dance a lot.
You just grabbed Sharon and danced until your feet hurt or you got sobered up a bit and needed another drink.
You had a fun night.
But now you faced a little problem. You needed to go home and you hated taxis or uber…
“I can drop you off.” said a voice behind you as you were checking your phone for buses.
You turned around to find Bucky standing right behind you, with his bike keys in his hand.
“Oh, but you drank too.”
“I did but I stopped a while ago so I am sober now. Let me drop you off unless you are scared.”
“Scared? Me? Don’t make me laugh.”
You were never scared of vehicles.
Ever.
But sitting behind him, holding onto his waist… now that was a different thing. That made you extremely nervous.
Bucky was a really, really handsome man. He could have anyone so to be close to him like this, made you feel some kind of way.
Although he was rather quiet and reserved, he had a strong aura around himself. He looked like someone who was hard to approach, yet his eyes were so kind and his body was so warm, even in the cold evening, you could feel it radiating off of him.
When he arrived at your place, he helped you off your bike, you expected him to leave immediately but he didn’t.
“Thank you for the ride,” you said.
But he didn’t reply, he just looked at you, made you wonder if you had something on your face.
“Sam didn’t lie you know. About me liking you.” you didn’t know how to react or what to say. So you just stood there like an idiot, just staring at him and him staring at you. For a moment you thought you only imagined it, that he didn’t say anything. Maybe it was the shots you took playing with your mind.
“Huh?” was all you could manage and it made him laugh.
“I like you.” he was so straightforward.
“B-but…we just met, how can you be so sure?”
“I just have a feeling, so will you let me take you out on a date?”
Who would say no to that?
—
You were anxious. Nervous. Extremely nervous.
Your date with Bucky was today, he would be at your place to pick you up at any moment.
You tried to look nice, did your hair, make up and wore nice clothing to impress him. You were trying way too hard, but a man like him is worth it.
And soon, maybe way too soon, you heard the recognizable sound of a motorbike stopping by your place.
This was it, you took a deep breath as your phone rang.
You didn’t pick up, instead grabbed your jacket and headed out.
Seeing him leaning against his bike, wearing dark jeans and a tight top did something to you.
And he smiled. Gosh, his smile was amazing.
It made you realize that there was nothing to worry about, you smiled back, and you just knew what he meant, that feeling, because at that moment you felt it too. And you knew everything will be okay.
AN: I can’t believe I haven’t done one of these for Bucky yet! Warning, this turned out to be more of a slow burn than I intended. Oops!
For the majority of his life, Bucky Barnes has fought.
When he wasn’t fighting, he was atoning for the sins that followed whatever battle he survived.
Post-Snap, Bucky threw himself into making amends.
Sometimes it would be doing small acts of kindness for strangers.
Other times it was moving across the hall from a man whose life you played a part in making terrible.
Balance was never his strong suit.
Dr. Raynor was little help in his atonement as she was less of a therapist and more of a well of one-liners about Bucky’s social life.
It was an easy mark though, as Bucky knew more ghosts than actual, living people.
Perhaps that was why Dr. Raynor’s teasing hit him so hard.
Perhaps that was why her comments on the topic lingered in his mind on the nights when his terrors were quiet.
“Do you have any friends? What about Sam? Have you heard from him?”
“You should try meeting someone, James.”
“Did you speak to anyone new over the weekend?”
Every time, Bucky would reply, “no, just Yori and the bartender.”
“The bartender nice?”
Every time, Bucky would shrug and say, “I dunno. I’ll find out next time.”
Then, ‘next time’ would come and Bucky wouldn’t find out.
It was like clockwork.
Until it wasn’t.
Until you.
It’s during Bucky’s usual dinner and drink with Yori, when he least expects it.
Izzy’s is a dive, a well-too-hidden gem covered in dust kicked up by those who lived in the city, walked the streets, called it home.
That means that Izzy’s is typically empty, but if it is busy, it’s full of regulars.
Leah, the bartender Bucky didn’t know was nice, was the only employee anyone seemed to see.
So, when you shadowed her behind the bar, eyes wide and drinking how she made each concoction for Izzy’s patrons, you stuck out.
That was why Bucky watched you at first, listened as Leah taught you the ropes.
“Alright, so, show me how to make it.”
“Like you just did?”
“Yes, Y/N. Like I just did.”
Bucky smiled then.
He smiled at your clear nervousness, the sound of your voice, the first utterance of your name.
Yori was talking about something, reciting some story that he already told
and Bucky was half listening, his eyes flicking up from the counter top to you.
Once, you locked eyes with him.
You smiled and Bucky felt his own smile widen.
That was before he lost his nerve and quickly looked away.
He wanted to talk to you, but he got in his head about it; as he always did.
Plus, your training finished and you walked out of Izzy’s with only one last glance in his direction.
He must have imagined it.
That’s what he told himself.
It would be pointless anyway.
What was the likelihood that he would see you again?
Whenever he and Yori went to the bar, Leah was the tender.
You would have a different shift, so he would never see you again.
But then, he did.
You were behind the bar, worriedly getting people their drinks as Bucky and Yori walked through the door.
As soon as they sat down, your eyes met.
An awe-struck silence fell over the two of you.
Bucky isn’t one for believing in a higher power, not after all he’s seen and been through, but he wonders, at that moment, about fate.
You wonder the same as the shared stare continues.
Then Yori would break the spell and ask, “where’s Leah? Leah works on Wednesdays.”
“I’m covering for her for a few weeks.”
“You’re new,” Yori said before he glanced at Bucky with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“I am,” you laughed and followed the, seemingly, older man’s eyes to Bucky. “And you two are regulars, right? That’s what Leah told me.”
“Yeah,” Bucky replied, putting on a nervous smile.
He cursed himself for being so out of practice.
He cursed himself for being so suddenly taken by you.
Luckily, Yori could care less about Bucky’s ability to flirt with people.
“You two should go on date.”
Immediately, you and Bucky looked at Yori, chuckling warily before you glanced back at each other.
“Yori, c’mon, that’s not,” Bucky shook his head.
“We don’t even know each other’s names.”
Well, Bucky did know yours, and that put you at a disadvantage.
He didn’t like that, didn’t like that you didn’t know him.
Before Yori could introduce Bucky to you himself, Bucky extended his right hand (his flesh hand) out to you.
“I’m Bucky.”
Your eyes flicked from his fingers to his eyes before you smiled.
“Y/N,” you replied, taking his hand.
“There you go. Now date,” Yori proclaimed, “life is short.”
“Alright, easy now,” Bucky said when you dropped his hand. “I’m sure Y/N is a busy person, especially with this job.”
Bucky gestured around to the near-empty bar as he spoke and, much to his surprise, you laughed.
“Oh yes, so busy.”
Yori waved a dismissive hand and went on to ask for a drink and some food for himself.
Bucky watched quietly as you worked, pulling Yori’s favorite beer out and darting into the back kitchen to place his food order in.
You were a worried whirlwind of energy and, every so often, as you filed in and out of the adjoining kitchen, you met his eyes.
It took all Bucky had to focus on Yori and his complaining about the neighbors.
When you interrupted to give them the food they had ordered, Bucky was overwhelmed with relief.
He had an excuse to look at you then, to speak to you.
“Thank you,” was all he could muster, along with a shy smile.
The evening continued like that: a collection of small, stolen glances and the tension of Yori’s words between you.
Bucky got lost in his thoughts, questioned whether you felt it too.
Though, as always, Yori grounded him back to reality by the end of the night.
Tipsy and unsteady, the old man stood from his stool and grumbled something about heading to bed.
Bucky was helping Yori towards the door when he saw you again.
You were wiping down a newly emptied table near the exit and you lifted your head, eyes meeting his.
It took all Bucky had to explain, “I gotta get him back.”
“Okay,” you said, the faintest of frowns on your lips. “You two have a goodnight.”
“Yeah, you too.”
Bucky quickly guided Yori out the door before the man could press a possible date any further
That didn’t mean that Yori didn’t mention it on the walk home.
“You should have asked.”
“I’m not looking for…for that right now,” Bucky pressed, shaking his head.
Yori shook his head too, but he was chuckling, a lot.
With furrowed brows, Bucky watched him as he succumbed to an almost full-belly laugh.
“Oh, you’re a young man,” Yori managed through his chuckle, “you know nothing.”
Bucky huffed in amusement because he couldn’t deny that.
Despite being a century old, Bucky Barnes had not truly lived.
“You do not look for love,” Yori continued, “it finds you.”
The old man’s words struck Bucky in the chest
harder than any punch or shock or bullet ever had.
He barely had time to recover before Yori continued, but with his focus shifted to the noisy neighbors once again.
Bucky was glad for the distraction, though your smile lingered in the back of his mind as he helped Yori to his door.
“I’ve got it. I’ve got it.”
“I’m sure you do,” Bucky drawled disbelievingly.
“You don’t,” Yori returned, opening the door this his apartment.
“What?”
Yori stopped at the entrance of his home and let out a long, heavy sigh.
“That Y/N. You didn’t make a date.”
“We’ve been over this. I didn’t but-“
“What a shame.”
“Yeah…a shame,” Bucky echoed, tension bleeding out from his body.
There’s a long pause where the two men sit in the quiet, each one waiting for the other to say something else.
Yet, they both thought better of it.
“Goodnight,” Yori said, patting Bucky’s shoulder.
Bucky held his breath at the touch, a flood of terrible, hazy memories flooding back and renewing his stress.
In a rush, Bucky replied, “Night, Yori.”
With a nod of acknowledgment, the old man disappeared within the dimness of his apartment.
Bucky took a trembling breath before he turned towards his own door.
His hand reached out to twist the knob, but the action stirred a feeling within him.
A memory of a few hours before Bucky’s hand extending out towards you as you smiled at him.
In turn, his hand falls back down to his side and he shakes his head as if to clear it.
Bucky turned and started back down towards the entrance of the apartment complex.
A walk would clear his head.
At least he hoped that it would.
Yet all Bucky got was rained on.
A storm rolled in, bringing small, isolated showers with it.
By the time he was nearby Izzy’s (one of the only places he knew how to get to), Bucky feared getting soaked.
So, he tucked beneath the oning that hung outside the door to the bar.
The thick, dark green fabric provided a little protection from the rain, and Bucky savored the fleeting feeling of safety it supplied.
It lasted only a minute or so before the door to Izzy’s swung open
and, of course, it had to be you that walked through.
“You’re back!” You quickly recollected yourself, shaking your head. “I mean, you’re back.”
“I’m back,” Bucky said, unable to keep himself from smiling at your presence.
You were smiling too, before confusion furrowed your brow and forced your lips into a frown.
“Everything alright? Yori okay?” You asked, concern dripping from your tone like the landed rain drops slipping off of the oning.
“Yeah, yeah. I just wanted to…”
When Bucky met your eyes, he realized he wanted you.
But he couldn’t say that.
He was out of practice when it came to flirting but that would be…creepy.
“I wanted to apologize for him. He doesn’t have a filter sometimes.”
You laugh and Bucky felt a heaviness, one he didn’t know he was carrying, lift.
“It’s alright.”
A small quiet fell over the two of you, with Bucky just looking at you and you looking at him.
When you both realized that you were staring, you both chuckled and looked away.
Your eyes drifted towards the road, the rain that gathered in puddles in the pavement; and Bucky watched as you extended your hand.
With an open palm, you tested the frequency of the rain fall with a grace so akin to a fairytale that Bucky was winded.
“You don’t happen to have an umbrella with you, do you?”
Bucky heard your question, but he only managed to find himself and the words to reply when you turned your head to look at him again.
“I-I don’t.”
“You forgot it in your magic Mary Poppins bag?”
The way you smiled made Bucky think it was a joke, but he had missed the punchline, the reference.
When you saw that twinge of confusion in his smile, you frowned.
“You don’t know Mary Poppins?”
“And if I don’t?”
Your lips quirked up once more into a wide smile.
Bucky watched as you teeth sunk into your bottom lip, a thoughtful expression as your eyes flicked from him to the door of Izzy’s.
“If you wanna come inside to escape the rain, I could explain the reference.”
Then it was Bucky’s turn to put on a thoughtful expression; though, only for a moment because he almost immediately replied.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Great,” you returned and Bucky opened the door and went inside Izzy’s for the second time that day.
Before you were both inside, you paused and met Bucky’s eyes again.
“This isn’t a date, is it?”
“Not unless you want it to be.”
You never responded to that half-assed offer of a date and
a strange sort of ritual started formed.
On the days you worked and Bucky and Yori went to eat, Bucky would drop off Yori and come back.
Bucky would feign ignorance, tell you that he spent time out of the States for work with family and missed a lot of American pop culture.
You would tell him all you knew, explain movies he missed, recommend TV shows, books, music anything you thought he would like.
“I’ve heard of One Direction.”
“You have?”
“They trend on that bird app every so often.”
“You have Twitter?”
“Not anymore. I never thought people posting text could be so loud….and annoying…and confusing.”
Nights were spent just talking, exchanging stories.
Though, of course, Bucky kept a majority of his tales close to his chest.
In the vaguest of terms, he mentioned Steve, harrowing winters, traveling in the army, and even partaking in a ‘clinical trial’ headed by Russian scientists.
He told you everything he could without giving himself away.
He didn’t want to be the ghost of the Winter Soldier, not anymore.
He just wanted to be Bucky Barnes to you, some guy you met at a bar because a sweet, but sour, old man told you both that you should date.
There were a few times that he slipped back into a more combat-ready state.
For instance, the night he almost told you everything, you didn’t greet him outside of the door to Izzy’s.
He missed your smile at first, then his mind wandered to every terrible possibility.
Quickly, he rushed inside the bar and scanned the establishment for you.
You were neither sat that the table you usually shared with him
nor anywhere in the seating section.
You were still behind the bar, wearing a twisted expression as a man leaned over the counter and far too close to you.
Your brow was furrowed in disgust, lips in a scowl, but your eyes were nervous, wary of the leaning man’s intentions.
That was enough for Bucky.
He stormed over and circled around the man so he could rest his left hand (his Vibranium hand) on the creep’s shoulder.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but,” Bucky began, “you’re making the best bartender in the borough a little bit too uncomfortable.”
The man turned and glared at Bucky, but said nothing.
Bucky shook his head and added, “we can’t have that.”
With a squeeze of his hand, metal fingers crushed into the meat of the man’s shoulder and he yelped.
“Watch it,” he spat, trying to recover a facade of dignity after his somewhat embarrassing, high-pitched shout of pain.
The man shifted his angry eyes from Bucky to you and then back again before he turned around and darted out of Izzy’s.
“You’re the one that needs to watch it,” Bucky called after him.
After he was sure that the man was gone, probably high-tailing it down the block, Bucky looked to you.
There you were, your expression turning up into the smallest of smiles as you began to speak.
“Best bartender in the borough?” You pressed a hand to your chest, “I’m honored.”
“It’s the truth,” Bucky said, taking a seat on the barstool directly across from you.
“Does the hero want a drink?”
“I’m not a hero,” Bucky mumbled, shaking his head.
“You just exiled the bad guy,” you pointed out, gesturing towards the door.
“I’ve exiled good guys too. Sometimes worse.”
Your brow furrowed as you looked into Bucky’s eyes and asked, “but you don’t anymore?”
Bucky huffed, in his own disbelief, and shook his head.
“I try not to, yeah.”
“Well, if you’re trying then I’d call you a hero,” you said, your expression exuding a warmth Bucky hadn’t felt in years. “Tonight, I’d call you myhero.”
Right then and there, Bucky wanted to kiss you.
Instead, he choked out, “so, you’re working an extra shift tonight?”
“Leah’s running late. I’ll be off soon if you wanna hang out.”
“Great, yeah.”
Until Leah arrived, Bucky watched you work: pouring glasses of color drinks, popping open beer bottles, and shuttling food from the kitchen to the customer.
When you were free, Bucky could tell you were exhausted.
“Why don’t we skip tonight. You look beat.”
You gave him an unamused smile, “thanks, Bucky.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he explained in a rush, “just that-”
“I’m just giving you shit,” you said with a wave of your hand.
Bucky nodded quietly and you both started towards the door.
He held it open for you and, as you passed through, you caught sight of the night sky and men across the street, loitering in a nervous way.
Still in the doorway, you turned and looked up, into Bucky’s eyes.
“Walk me home?”
“Of course,” Bucky replied before he could really register what he was saying.
He didn’t mind it, obviously.
As you walked, you both talked about strange happenings.
Bucky even mentioned therapy, as he dropped the newest bit of wisdom Dr. Raynor had provided him with.
“So, she basically just told you to get a life?”
“Basically,” Bucky agreed.
“Therapy is great, it’s good you’re in it, but…she sounds awful!” You threw your arms in the air for emphasis and Bucky was awestruck by how the streetlamp light cast you, in that pose, under a yellow spotlight.
“She kinda is,” he murmured, unable to entirely refocus himself.
Before you could delve deeper into how awful Raynor was, you arrived at your front door.
“This is me,” you said through a groan.
“You don’t sound happy about that,” Bucky chuckled.
“I feel bad that our night was wasted.”
“Not wasted,” Bucky said softly, “we still hung out.”
At his words, your disappointment metamorphized.
Frown lines turned smile lines and eyes grew bright, hopeful.
“Yeah, you’re right.”
There was a pause then, with just the two of your staring at each other as the dark of night mingled with the sounds of the city.
In the distance, music played and the fast tempo coaxed Bucky’s heart to pick up the same fast beat.
“Well, I better-”
“Yeah, you better head to bed.”
You started up the steps but stopped when you were on the stair that put you exactly eye level with Bucky.
Bucky was about to ask what was the matter when you leaned in and pressed the lightest of kisses to his cheek.
It was so fast that Bucky swore he imagined it;
but when you pulled away, eyes still bright and bottom lip tucked between your teeth, thinking, analyzing his reaction, Bucky knew he hadn’t.
“Night, Bucky.”
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
Bucky lingered, made sure you got inside alright, and then started back down the street, towards his apartment, a little extra pep in his step.
Your ritual of night talks continued, but there was no mention of the sweet kiss.
Not that Bucky minded; though he did find himself lingering on you more and for longer as you talked about everything and anything.
It continued like that for a while until Sam gave over the shield.
That spent Bucky into a spiral and not even you could pull him out.
He never missed a night talk but you could tell he was distant.
Onthe night he told you everything, you asked about his awayness.
“Are you okay? You’re quiet, but you’re normally not this quiet.”
“Yea, I-” Bucky stopped when he met your gaze.
He couldn’t lie to you. Not anymore.
“I’m not okay,” he admitted, “there’s…there’s something I have to tell you.”
“Alright,” you said, settling into your chair, “tell me.”
“It’s actually a lot of somethings.”
“I’m ready when you are.”
Bucky took a moment, thought of you the night you kissed his cheek, and began to tell you his story in all of its gritty detail.
There were points where you were silent (when he told you how old he really was), where you gasped (when he told you about falling off the train), where you smiled (when he recounted his friendship with Steve), where you almost cried (when he told you the truth of his ‘clinical trial’ with HYDRA).
When he showed his arm, you reached across the table and took his hand.
His breathing shuddered as you intertwined your flesh fingers with his metal ones.
“Can you feel my hand?”
“What?”
“You said Vibranium is like a living metal, right? It can sense vibrations and absorb energy. Can you feel my hand?”
Bucky’s brows furrowed, “I’ve never tried that before.”
You studied him, your joined hands, quietly and Bucky took that opportunity to really focus.
He wasn’t entirely sure of all the capabilities Shuri incorporated into his new arm.
He knew the port the arm attached to was loosely connected to nerve endings to give him more control, but he didn’t know if that would allow him to feel.
So, he closed his eyes and really tried.
He wasn’t sure that he felt the warmth of your palm and the dull beating of your heart or if he just imagined it.
“I feel something,” he said, eyes opening to meet your gaze, “but I don’t know if it’s ‘cause I really want to or…”
He trailed off, lost in your eyes.
“It’s something,” you comforted and gave his metal hand a soft squeeze.
You held his hand as he continued to tell you everything.
He told you about the most recent happening, with Sam and the shield.
“Steve gave it to him.”
“He has a reason for doing what he did,” you said, giving his hand another squeeze.
“But that shield is…”
“It’s part of your friend, but it’s not everything he left behind.”
Something in your words stirred an old ache in Bucky’s chest, but he nodded.
“Yeah, but I think,” he sighed, “I think I have to talk to him. Figure out what he’s doing.”
“How long will talking to Sam take?”
“I don’t know.”
You nodded and pulled your hand from his as you said, “well, you owe me a night out when you get back.”
“I’m okay with that,” Bucky said, and he felt every ounce of dread he carried with him ebb.
Then Bucky goes off to find Sam, talk about the shield, they meet John Walker, the Flag Smashers, and….well, you know the rest.
And if you don’t, Bucky is sure to tell you all about it when he returns.
He’s a touch tanner than he was when you last saw him, and when he tells you about Sam’s home in Louisiana, he beams as much as the sun.
“Sounds like you really liked it there.”
“It was nice, nice to get away from the city,” he glanced around Izzy’s as he spoke, “but it’s better to be back here. Back with you.”
You smiled bashfully and Bucky himself felt his face grow warm.
“I’m glad you’re back,” you managed, shyness lacing your tone, making it feather-light.
There’s a soft pause, where the two of you meet each other’s eyes then look away….before looking back again.
Bucky surprises himself when he breaks the silence.
“So, what do you want to do for that night out I owe you?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted, “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
“As much as I missed this place, I don’t think we should go to Izzy’s.”
“How about I pick you up at your place tomorrow at five and you trust me to pick the place?”
“Alright, but do you remember the way to my place?”
“No,” Bucky said with a smile, “but if I walk you home again tonight, I’ll be able to remember it.”
You laughed again and sighed, “that was smooth, Barnes. Very smooth.”
After another hour or so of talking, Bucky walked you home.
“Are there any places, besides Izzy’s, that you don’t want to go to?”
“Umm, a funeral home, pet cemetery…”
“Okay, okay, I get it. No spooky places.”
You raised a hand and shook your head, “no, I’m cool with spooky, just not sad.”
“Spooky, not sad,” Bucky echoed. “Noted.”
By that point, you both reached your home and were lingering outside.
Passersby glanced at the two of you, probably eyeing your closeness.
You were so close that you could feel each other’s heat.
“So, out here, tomorrow at seven?” You asked.
“Yeah,” Bucky replied, “tomorrow at seven.”
He watched as you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip and let your eyes flicking across his face, thinking.
Later, down the line, you would tell Bucky, that you were debating whether to kiss him that night.
You ultimately decided against it and simply smiled at him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you said.
“See ya then.”
Bucky watched you go inside and started the long trek back to his apartment.
When he got there, it felt emptier, not quite as homey as the Wilson’s place or how Bucky felt when he was with you.
Though, he slept well that night.
During the day, he was nervous.
Not as nervous as he would have been prior to working alongside Sam, but still nervous.
He was in his head again, but until seven at night when he saw you walk down the steps.
You knew him, he had told you everything and you still wanted to waste time with him.
Bucky smiled at the thought, at you as you strode up to him.
“So, where are we headed?”
“To the park,” Bucky said in a breath, still trying to collect himself.
“The park,” you returned, your smile enduring.
As you walked towards the park nearby your home, your arms would brush against Bucky’s, a tickling reminder that you were alone together.
The park was lovely, framed by the sunset.
Children giggled, clinging to playgrounds and soaring in swings.
An elderly couple sat at a bench you and Bucky passed, all grey hair and joined hands.
Eventually, Bucky led you to a patch that was decorated like a haunted landscape.
Pumpkins, some carved some not, littered the grassy knoll
Plastic facades of ghosts, ghouls, and haunted houses stood proud, some nearly as tall as Bucky.
“Wow, you took the spooky thing to heart, huh?”
“Y-Yeah, you like it?”
You glanced around before you met his eyes and nodded.
“I love it.”
You and Bucky wandered through the maze of gourds and decorations, smiling, cracking jokes about Halloween costumes past.
“I didn’t get to do much so I was an army man most years.”
“Oddly fitting,” you teased.
“What about you?”
“There were a few DIY costumes over the years,” you admitted.
Bucky’s face immediately brightened and he chuckled. “Oh really?”
“Oh yes, and there’s photo evidence to support how terrible they could be,” you smiled and added, “I’ll show you sometime.”
You both watched as children darted between plastic ghosts, trying to scare each other.
Eventually, you and Bucky perched yourselves on an empty bench.
Your shoulders were almost pressed together, your warmth mingling and wrapping around you both, banishing the crisp evening chill.
“I haven’t been to the park in ages.”
“Really?” Bucky asked, happy that you broke the silence that claimed you both.
“I’ve been too busy, with work and just…life.”
“So I was right when I told Yori that you were too busy for a date.”
You chuckled and shook your head.
“Except for now,” you said, turning your head to meet his eyes.
Bucky couldn’t help the grin that spread along his lips.
You smiled back at him.
“This isn’t a date, is it?” Bucky asked, mimicking what you had asked the first time you spent the night talking to each other at Izzy’s.
“Not unless you want it to be,” you returned, the same thing he told you back then.
Bucky smiled and nudged his shoulder against yours.
“I want it to be.”
“I want it to be, too.”
There was another stretch of quiet, though easier than the one before.
You and Bucky stared at each other with all the softness in the world.
Bucky’s face was relaxed, more than relaxed than you had ever seen him; his lips wore a lazy smile and his blue eyes were glinting under the light of the setting sun.
That light further bathed him in a warm orange glow that made your stomach twist.
Bucky was drinking in the look of you too, outlined in the green of the park and beautiful.
“I also want to kiss you,” Bucky said, his voice tender, almost lost in the wind.
“Then kiss me.”
At your reply, Bucky leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a fumbling rush.
You didn’t care though, so neither did he.
His hands reached to cup the sides of your face and held you with all the careful fervor he could muster.
Your hands gripped at the front of his dark red shirt, pulling him impossibly close.
While PDA might not be your favorite thing, you were so swept up by Bucky’s touch that you didn’t care.
Bucky, who loves PDA, already didn’t care.
When you pulled away (‘cause Bucky sure wasn’t going to be the first to do so), his lips were kiss-swollen and eyes half-lidded.
“Should’ve done it sooner,” he murmured when he met your gaze.
“Yeah, definitely.”
After that first date, you and Bucky retained your three times a weeknight talks
and a weekly outing on the weekends.
He would check you out while you worked, make sure that people like that creepy guy wouldn’t come around to bother you.
He would glare at anyone that even looked at you the wrong way.
“You’re staring,” you said, passing him a bottle of beer.
“Do you blame me?”
You gave him a warning glance, but there was a smile on your face.
When you ask why Yori doesn’t come around with him anymore, Bucky is honest with you.
“But that wasn’t you.”
“It was,” Bucky said, “my body still-”
“I don’t care what your body has done, I care about what you do. And you care about people, Bucky, you try to help wherever you can. You love. That’s you. The man that killed his son wasn’t you.”
Bucky wanted to kiss you, in the dingey corner of Izzy’s after your shift, but held back.
On the walk home, he held back;
but the second you were about to say goodbye, Bucky cupped your face and kissed you, hard.
The force behind his lips was strong, but his touch was so mild that you melted into him.
Your chests pressed together, heartbeats melded into one.
He walked you backwards until your back knocked against the fence.
You laughed as you nearly toppled entirely into Bucky and broke the kiss.
You threw your arms over his shoulders as he rested his forehead against yours.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
“No, don’t be sorry,” you leaned up and snuck another kiss.
Bucky pulled his forehead from yours and stared down at you.
His fingers, with rough pads, traced along your cheek to your jaw and tilted your face up with such a softness that the rush before felt like a hazy memory.
Just before your lips touched, you asked in a whisper, “come upstairs?”
“Yes,” Bucky said just before he pressed his mouth to yours.
The two of you were a stumbling, tangled mess getting to your room.
Needless to say, even when you reached your bedroom, you both were still a stumbling, tangled mess.
A softer mess, a more tender, pleasurablemess.
That night began another ritual.
Bucky would sleep over at your place a few times a week.
Eventually, you dedicated a drawer to him, his clothes.
Though, they weren’t always his clothes.
“Where’s my red- doll.”
“What?”
“Are you wearing my shirt?”
“Maybe,” you teasing, pulling at the long sleeves of a shirt that was definitely Bucky’s.
You turned around to face him and he was, literally, shirtless, with his dog tags shining against his tanned chest.
“I’d like it back.”
“Come get it then.”
Spending the night together wasn’t always teasing.
Most of the time it was sharing movies, ordering takeout, talking, laughing.
Basically, you catching Bucky up on pop culture.
“Steve’s list mentions a Star Wars?”
“It’s a movie series. You wanna watch it?”
“How many movies are there?”
“Ten, I think, eleven maybe.”
“Ten! How many movies can someone make about the same characters?!”
“You’d be surprised.”
It’s after one these movies nights when it happens.
You’re switching off the screen, ready to head to bed when you turn around and see Bucky still sat on the couch.
His plaid pajama pants rode up a little, disturbing the hem of his tight grey shirt.
It’s then you see the steady rise and fall of his chest grow a touch more rapid.
“I love you.”
His voice is low, gravelly but soft when he says it.
You thought you misheard him at first and Bucky feared that he said it far too soon.
When your pause extended, Bucky moved to sit up, to backtrack.
But then, finally your face broke into a grin.
“I love you too.”
“Come ‘ere then,” he said, arms extended and reaching out to you.
You walked towards him, felt his warm hand and cold hand grab your hips and pull you down into his lap.
“I love you,” he said again, leaning up for a kiss.
“I love you,” you echoed, meeting him in the middle.
Leah makes jokes about how icky the honeymoon phase is.
You agree, but you explain that you’ve never felt this way before
and Bucky was first to admit that his encounters with love were limited.
So, you both hold on to each other; become one another’s safe space.
Once, Bucky mentioned a vacation.
“Where to?”
“Louisiana. You could meet Sam, go out on the boat, get out of the city.”
“I’d like that.”
When you do go eventually, you love it.
The Wilsons welcomed you with open arms.
“So you’re Y/N,” Sam greeted, “Buck won’t stop talkin’ about you.”
“That’s saying a lot, because he hardly talks,” you said teasingly, squeezing Bucky’s hand.
Sam laughed, “oh, I like you.”
You and Bucky spend days on the docks, the beach, on the boat.
One night, you were on the dock, watching the sunset.
When you turned, Bucky was taking a swig of his beer, basking in the sun.
“This place looks good on you.”
Bucky turned and beamed at you, “really?”
“Yeah,” you replied, reaching a hand out to brush through his hair.
“It’s nice seeing you of the city, not busy. Relaxationlooks good on you.”
You leaned in, as if to kiss him, but lingered just out of reach of his lips to say, “maybe we should stay a little longer.”
“I wouldn’t mind that.”
“I’ll call Leah,” you said, starting to move away.
Bucky pulled you back, your chin pinched between his forefinger and thumb.
“Tomorrow,” he murmured, “right now, you’re mine.”
You were his, just as he was yours, for the next few days.
Sadly, after another week in Louisiana, Bucky mentioned how Sam needs him back in action.
“So, he’s stealing my boyfriend?”
“More like borrowing me.”
“When do you leave?”
“After we get back to the city,” he replied, walking towards where you sat on the edge of the bed.
You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth and Bucky smiled.
He kneeled down before you, between your legs, and reached up to pull your lip free.
“What are you thinkin’ about, doll?”
“I’mthinkin’we just shouldn’t go back.”
Bucky head fell to the side, strength almost crippled by the sadness of your voice, and leaned up towards you.
He didn’t have to say anything.
He poured his agreement, that shared wish, into the kiss you shared.
Warnings: Mentions of blood, bullet wounds, pain, kinda angsty, then cut, then angsty, them cute again, pretty good since it’s been a while.
A/N: I KNOW the last part left a cliff hanger and then I didn’t write for this series for months. I know. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. But I promise the wait was worth it (hopefully). Also this is the Imani face claim I chose because I think I’m gonna make her a more prominent character. Anyway, I hope you guys like it like I do, and I promise you’ll continue to slowly see things trickle out from this blog. Love you all!!! ❤️
You first quickly make your way to Sam, immediately checking his vitals. “Steve, I need you to keep James awake.” As Steve goes to do his assignment, you find a low, even heartbeat and slow, steady breathing from Sam, as if he was asleep. Next you remove the tape from the towels to lift them up one at a time, visually inspecting both wounds. The one on his side was a deep graze. It doesn’t look like it hit his ribs, glad that is one less bullet you have to worry about. Next you examine his leg, less enthused about this wound. It was in the outside region of his upper leg, so the femoral artery wasn’t a concern, but there was no exit wound.
"Hey, Buck. Y/N needs you to stay awake, okay bud.“ Steve starts to to shake Bucky gently. You turn to look at him as you go to reach for the first aid kit. The look on his side profile was filled with worry and as much as you could sympathize with, you had a task to attend to.
"Steve, I know you don’t want to hurt him, but you have to wake him up. Try a bit harder for me, and if that doesn’t work, your gonna need to do a sternum rub, okay?” Your stare on Steve was intense as you waited for affirmation. He was shocked at your commanding tone but quickly nods and goes back to waking Bucky. You place your focus back onto Sam as you pull on your gloves, removing the towel from his side first and the small piece of gauze that covered the gash. You grab a bottle of rubbing alcohol from the table and pour it on a fresh, folded piece of gauze. “I’m so sorry, Sam.” You mumble, quickly bringing the gauze to the wound. The intensity of the burning was enough to wake Sam and cause him to swiftly kick you away. You groan at the impact as Sam beings to apologize profusely.
"I’m so sorry. *Wince* I didn’t know it was you*wince* Fuck everything hurts.“ You calm him down and hand him a pillow for the couch, then begun to slowly bring the gauze back in.
"It’s fine. But you’re gonna want to bite this hard because I’ve got to clean that wound.” You allow him to ready himself, watching as he places the corner of the pillow in his mouth, then being to count down without getting to zero. Right as you placed the gauze there’s a knock at the door. “It’s open, Mani.” You call, trying to keep Sam from squirming too much. She enters and looks around at the grim site before her.
"Well, I-uh-wow-“ You continue to wipe around the wound with the gauze a bit more before starting to secure a fresh piece of gauze to it, sneaking glances back at your stupified friend.
"I know, I’ll explain later. Right now I need you to channel your previous life as an ER nurse and help Steve with Bucky.” You turn back to Sam, scanning his face for signs of fainting, which is expected with the pain he was most likely feeling. “Steve, Imani. Imani, Steve.” You nudge your head toward your friend as you start on cleaning Sam’s leg wound.
"Hi.“ Is all Steve could muster to the woman next to him now. Her wide, deep brown eyes quickly scanned Steve’s face, lingering on his own ocean blue eyes before finally speaking. “I’ll get you cleaned up in a moment but first lets help James. And, uh, nice to meet you… finally.” She lifts the towel that now stuck to Bucky by the crusted over blood. It was a deep gash, no sign of a bullet entrance. “Steve, can you hand me gloves, a piece of gauze, and the alcohol, please?” Steve nods and hastily does what the woman asks. He watches as Imani expertly pulls on her gloves, the pulls surrounding fabric from around his wound. “Steve, he may be asleep now, but when I put this on him, you are possibly the only person that can keep him restrained. And just, be prepared. He’s gonna be in a lot of pain.” She proceeds to pour a heavy dose of alcohol on to the gauze and presses it to the wound, earning increasingly jerking flinches from Bucky. She then begins to gently wipe the wound, the burn to the exposed muscle, fully waking him up and causing Steve to put his whole weight into him.
“Come on buddy, I know it burns, but Miss Imani here needs to clean you up. Now stay…still…” Steve groans pushing Buck’s shoulders into the chair.
“Hey, we need to get them somewhere that can remove these bullets.” You say focusing on your task at hand. Sam winces as you begin to secure a clean piece of gauze to his second wound. “Not the hospital though.” Steve watches as Imani animatedly flips her head back around, finishing wiping around Bucky’s wound before getting a fresh gauze.
“Well, we could try to get them to the compound quickly. I know Bruce is there for the next couple of weeks. He can help. I can drive.” Steve relaxes his grip on Bucky when he realized that his whinces have become less dramatic, possibly due to the pain being so sever at first that it numbed at this point.
“Compound? The one upstate that you told me about?” Imani turns to ask you, securing down one side of medical tape before pulling out another one. She watches you nod then turns back to secure the second piece of tape. “If that’s the case we’re taking my car.” She looked over at Steve and his shocked, confused expression. “It’s a Mustang. You can still drive, but if the broken down Beetle is your’s, it would take forever for us to get there.” A small grin grows on Steve’s face as he lets out a small chuckle before helping you stand Sam up to take him and Bucky to Imani’s car.
_____
Imani was right about her car being quicker, because with Steve driving rather than it taking 2 and a half hours, Steve somehow shaved an hour off the time, though the ride seemed a bit longer due to Buck and Sam’s bickering on who was hurting most and who did what before they both passed out. So there you sat next to Bucky, looking at the picture Peter sent you of him and Louise, Louise in one of his shirts as a form of pajama, as a form of check up, every once in a while, looking up to watch Imani fix Steve up, unknowing of the awe-filled– and possibly lust filled– gaze he laid upon her. You just grinned and looked back down at your phone, backing out of the photo and scrolling through the texts between you and Peter. You knew he was part of the team, so you felt like it wouldn’t hurt to let him know what’s going on. As you started reading you felt a shift underneath your hand that grasped Bucky’s, prompting you to look his way.
“Hey. How are you feeling?” You gently place a hand on his face and glance up and down his body, examining him.
“Simultaneously high and in pain.” He groans out a chuckle and attempts to sit up, Stopped by his now suttured and covered wound.
“Yeah, probably shouldn’t sit up to quick. Bruce, uh, had to remove a bullet fragments from your wound and then sew you up. Luckily, they was very superficial so it didn’t take much effort at all.” Bucky nods at your words and keeps a loving gaze on you, and as relieved as you were for him to finally be awake, you couldn’t helped but feel irked about the whole situation. “James, what happened?”
“Would you accept mission gone wrong?” He charms, but your contemplating frown still stuck to your face, this skepticism stemming from when Steve told you the same thing. “Okay, we may have mistepped a bit but we’re okay.”
“James, Sam is in surgery. Sure, they’re both luckily minor injuries considering the bullet that was in his thigh may have missed his femoral artery, but it was still dangerous nonetheless.” You still held on to Bucky’s hand, your thumb nervously rubbing his fingers. “Was this a S.H.I.EL.D. thing or…?” You now looked between Steve and Bucky, who’s eyes began to grow wide, giving you indication of the answer. “You guys got into this trouble all on your own, huh?”
“Umm, I think Steve said he wanted to give me a tour of the compound. Right, Steve?” Imani grabs Steve’s hand and motions her head to the door, then leans in to whisper in his ear. “You do not want her anger towards James to jump onto you. Get out while you still can.”
“But it was-” Imani yanks Steve’s arm and drags him out before he could further incriminate himself. “The mission was my idea.” He looks down at Mani, eyes as pitiful as a guilty child. “I need to apologize.”
“You can do so later, when she calms down.” She places a hand on Steve’s elbow that was closest to the door. “I think right now she’s more scared than mad. Give her time. Show me around. And, uh, maybe we could get a drink?” She suggests, remembering the large wall of liquor behind a bar in the main room. She gets a hint of a grin and a nod from Steve before he finally leads her away from the room.
Back in the room, your face seemed to be in a long term scowl as Bucky tries to explain the situation. “Listen, it was something that S.H.I.E.L.D couldn’t have known or else it would’ve gotten more people hurt than necessary. I honestly can’t tell you anymore than that. It could put you in danger.” You remove your hand from his, swiftly avoiding Bucky’s attempt to retrieve your hand again and stand from your seat to begin pacing.
“So how often do you oh so willingly run toward the danger without being provoked?” You stop and look at Bucky, who now seemed equally as angry as you. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Do you know what my job entails? I’m not a rodeo clown. I work to keep the world safe. To keep you and Louise safe.” Bucky’s volume increased with his words.
“Don’t you think I know that! That’s one of the reasons why I love you, damnit. But it seems that the danger seems to follow you. And what if it follows you when you have Lou,… and I’m not there?” You sigh and walk back to the chair, plopping down. “Bucky, I’m not mad, not completely mad at least, I’m scared. If something happened to you, or something happened while you were watching Lou and I couldn’t get there in time, I-I would die. I wouldn’t know what to do.” Your voice cracks and a tear falls from your eye, which Bucky quickly turns to wipe away, wincing when he realizes he’s still in the hospital bed for a reason.
“I understand, and I promise to be more careful and think before following Steve into the fire again. I guess it’s just weird to know that I have a girl with a daughter who both expect me to be alive enough to come home. But if anything were to happen and you weren’t there, they would have to kill me to lay a finger on Louise, okay? And I’m hard to kill.” You nod and laugh through your now ceasing sobs.
“Okay” He takes your hand and gently presses it to his lips, knowing that it would be more painful if he were to try to kiss you at the moment. You catch on and lean over to give him a long, sweet peck on the lips, at this point relieved that he was still here with you. When you pull back your brain rewinds Bucky’s words. Follow Steve, huh? You stand from your chair again. “I’ll be right back.” You exit the infirmary like room and quickly head to the main room where you, unsurprisingly, found Steve and Imani flirting at the bar in the back of the room. “You.” You point to Steve and then point in front of you, to which he followed the silent instructions to come stand in front of you.
“So, uh, Buck told you.” He nervously rubs the back of the neck, gaze directed downward into your eyes.
“Kinda. But I wanted to hear it from you.” Your eyebrows were raised as you crossed your arms.
“I-uh-was the one who proposed the mission.” He flinched when you motioned to hit his arm but continued when you pulled back. “It was-or at least seemed like- a small threat that, if it grew, would be big trouble for S.H.I.E.L.D in the future if it wasn’t taken care of right now. I didn’t know it would be such trouble.” This was the moment you took to thud him in the abdomen, seemingly hard enough to get a reaction that was most likely due to some bruised ribs.
“That’s fine. But can we please try to be more careful next time. I was supposed to be off tonight and tomorrow but it looks like I’ll be taking care of some people.” You turn on your heel and head back to the room Bucky was laid up in, hearing indistinct conversation going on between Steve and Mani as you walked away.
_____
“Don’t think I don’t remember the PAIN you put me through when I woke up.” Sam bitches from his wheelchair that was parked next to the large couch in the main room. You sat at the end closest to Sam with Bucky’s head in your lap, stroking his free roaming hair, scratching his scalp every once in a while.
“Me putting you through that pain is what kept you alive without having an infection. So you should be thanking me.” You flip your head to look at Sam, smug grin on your face.
“I appreciate it, doesn’t mean I enjoyed it.” Sam mumbles, earning a smack on his arm from you.
Over at the bar was Imani, Steve and Bruce. Steve, who was behind the bar was having an obviously engaging conversation with Imani, who was sitting at the bar listening, highly interested. Bruce sat next to Imani, but had his attention on your conversation with Sam.
“She’s right. If it wasn’t for her and Ms. Jefferson, your’s and Barnes’ injuries would be worse. Especially if you were to stick with your original plan of waiting it out through the night, one of you idiots would be dead so…” He takes a sip of the water that sat in front of him and looks over his glasses at Sam.
“Man, shut up.” Was all Sam could retaliate, making those that were listening laugh.
“Thank you again for coming to help. And letting me drive that car of your’s.” Steve was leaning on his crossed arms that were on the bar.
“Well, I’m glad Y/N called me to come help, or else I wouldn’t have finally met you.” She takes a sip of the Screwdriver Steve made her, the second of the drinks he has made for the beautiful woman he was so lucky to have met today-or yesterday since it was now 4:00 in the morning. “Y/N has told me a bit about you.”
“Like what?” His heart rate increases slightly at not knowing what Imani was about to say.
“Well, that you’re great with Lou. She said that you weren’t to bad looking, which frankly I agree.” Her voice trailed with those last words which made Steve laugh a heavenly chuckle. “And that you seemed extremely trustworthy.” His chest puffed with that last comment which emboldened him to finally make his move.
“She should’ve added in there that I would very much like to take her very beautiful, very charming best friend on a date sometime soon. Tomorrow at 7, maybe?” He moves Imani’s now empty glass from in front of her and places a glass of water.
“Smooth, but this glass of water should really be for you, since you seem so thirsty.” She takes a sip, turning her eyes toward the couch where you and Sam seemed to frantically turn back around as if you guys weren’t listening in to the conversation. “It’s your lucky day. I don’t have a shift tomorrow.” She take out her phone from her pocket, taps a few times on it then hands it to Steve. ”Put your number in.” He does as she tells him and then hands it back to her. She then sends a quick text with her name and address.
“I did not expect this to go so well.” Steve says a bit under his breath as he looks at the text that came through to his phone.
“This is not fair.” Sam sighs, then turns his attention back to you. “Can you please hook me up one of your friends? Please? I promise I’ll be good.”
You laugh at his pleas, then sit and think about it. After a few seconds Imani chimes in. “What about Sherry? That Cardio intern?” You gleefully clap at the suggestion then turn back to Sam.
“Yes, Sherry! She adorable, maybe a year younger than Mani and I. Short brownskin with a lot of hair. She graduated top of her class at UPenn. She’s only a little shy. Ugh, you’ll love her.”
“Fine, thank you. Now I don’t feel so left out now.” Sam fidgets with the wheels of his chair, seeming to be trying to get used to it.
“Good, no one wants that.” You chuckle, scratching Bucky’s scalp again, happy knowing that everything is okay now.
