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pastpatientlywaitingforimagines · 2 years

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just our hands clasped so tight | Bucky Barnes x Reader

WC: 4732

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader where Bucky has a nightmare and refuses to sleep after, thus begins your 'help Bucky get back to normal' routine. Set in the same universe as in all of our phases although you don't need to read that one to read this one. Basically- Reader was a science experiment who has some plant DNA and used to be a SHIELD agent who lived at the Compound with Bucky.

WARNINGS: an insane amount of kissing, one nightmare, brief mention of torture

~~~~~~

The metal door opened with a loud creak. A group of Hydra scientists were gathered around the dreaded chair, watching the reaction of the person held captive.

The scream told him exactly who it was.

He tried to get to you, tried to fight the people doing to you what happened to him seventy years ago, but he couldn’t move. He was frozen, listening to you scream for him to save you.

Bucky woke with a start, panting heavily. You were pressed against his chest, exactly where you had been when he had fallen asleep hours earlier. It had been a dream, he realized as he gathered you tighter into his arms. Though his nightmares were much less frequent, thanks to your constant presence in his life as well as taking his mandated therapy more seriously after you emphasized its importance, they were still typically flashbacks of things he had done as the Winter Soldier. This dream was different. This time it was you in that chair, you being tortured, you screaming for him.

“You okay?” you murmured, eyes still closed. Your hand found his chin, caressing his skin with your thumb softly. He responded simply with a kiss to your forehead. You hummed at the contact, sighing as you settled deeper into his embrace. He counted your heartbeats like sheep, hoping it would pull him back into a slumber. It was almost successful, but as soon as his eyes were closed the image of you struggling against the chair popped to the front of his mind and his eyes shot open again.

He wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.

Instead, he carefully extracted himself from you and took a shower, letting the scalding hot water bring him further into reality. Once he felt slightly more normal, he padded into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. The clock on the stove read 2:37am. Once he had a hot cup of coffee in his hands, he turned on the TV with the volume so low he wouldn’t have been able to hear it without the help of the serum and crashed on the couch.

You joined him shortly after, draped in an old SHIELD t-shirt that reached your bare thighs and your favorite quilt wrapped around you like a cape. Bucky lifted his left arm in invitation, letting you tuck yourself comfortably under the vibranium. He adjusted the quilt around you, making sure you’d stay warm against the cool metal of his arm.

“You didn’t come back to bed,” you pouted into his chest. Your fingers reached out to take the mug from the hand that wasn’t holding you, grimacing slightly when the black coffee hit your lips. You handed it back to him after only a sip.

“Sorry, sweets.” He kissed the top of your head, half in apology and half reminding himself that you were really there with him.

“It’s okay,” you yawned, “I don’t mind sleeping on the couch if this is where you want to be.” Your eyes fluttered shut, falling asleep once again.

You didn’t wake again until the sun had risen. Bucky’s cup of coffee was long empty and he had watched replays of the same four football plays and six commercials for the majority of the morning hours. You pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek before sitting up, stretching your arms out and then standing. Bucky followed you to the kitchen, not wanting to be far from you if he could help it. Having you safely next to him was the only thing keeping him slightly sane.

You worked on making breakfast, humming quietly to yourself. Bucky recognized the song as one you and Natasha used to play while you trained together when you lived at the compound.

“Eat for me, please?” you slid a plate in front of him. You had spent enough time together to pick up on the fact that he wasn’t okay, even if he hadn’t explicitly told you such. It hadn’t taken much time at the compound to learn how the other coped with past traumas, and how to support each other when it got to be too much. Even though Bucky wasn’t hungry, he obliged and started picking at the eggs and toast you had made.

You perched beside him, watching him carefully as you ate your own meal.

“Do you want to go for a walk? The sun’s finally out and I bet there are some flowers starting to open,” you suggested once your plate was empty. You were hopeful, bright eyes still scanning his for any indication that the man you loved was still mentally there.

He nodded, letting you take his hand and lead him back to your shared bedroom. He sat on the edge of the mattress while you changed into jeans and one of Bucky’s henley’s. Once you were done, you handed him his own jeans and a black t-shirt he wore often. You were patient as he dressed himself, then reached his hand out to take yours. You kissed his knuckles with a cheerful smile, then led him outside.

You were right, of course. The sun was out and the flower boxes that lined the streets of Brooklyn were filled with brightly colored blooms. Bucky suspected you had something to do with the accelerated growth of the flowers, the way you kept eyeing him as you walked didn’t go unnoticed. Your efforts made his heart swell. God, he loved you so much. But every time he started to feel moderately better, he’d remember how much it hurt to see you strapped to that damn chair and the pit that had been in his stomach since he woke up would get even deeper.

Every so often, you’d lift your joined hands to your lips and press them into his skin. It was a soft and gentle reminder to the turmoils of his brain that you were still there, you were still real, you were still his.

Once you got back to your apartment you put on the sitcom you had been watching together, then located the book you were reading and tucked yourself back into Bucky’s side on the couch. The background noise was a welcome distraction. While you read, Bucky played with your hair and pressed kisses into the crown of your head every so often. He may have been fighting harder than normal to stay afloat in his own mind, but that didn’t mean he could stop showing you how much he adored you.

As soon as the sun started to set, you stood and met his lips with yours chastely before returning to the kitchen. Again, Bucky followed you, watching as you twirled around the space. Your cooking skill was one you learned from Clint and his wife, a skill Bucky was grateful for because he didn’t really know how to operate in a kitchen.

You didn’t ask him to eat this time, instead chattering about a movie you wanted to watch between your own bites. Bucky just pushed his food around with his fork, trying to listen to what you were saying as attentively as possible.

Once you were done you returned to the couch, opening your arms and letting Bucky settle between them. Your hands found his hair easily, twisting and carding in repetitive motions as you watched the comedic thriller you had just been talking about during dinner.

After the movie, you left Bucky to his own devices while you showered. He did the usual bedtime things- setting out a glass of ice water for you and adjusting the blankets how you liked them. He waited to get under the covers until you were ready, your familiar warmth against his side.

“Bucky,” you murmured once he had reached over to turn out the lamp at your bedside. He hummed his acknowledgement. “Loved you then, love you now.” He kissed the first part of you his mouth came into contact with.

That was always how Day 1 went, with you acting as normal as possible while still subtly reassuring him that you understood what was happening.

Bucky stayed awake all night, not daring to close his eyes out of fear of seeing you captured by Hydra again. Instead he re-memorized every visible inch of you, the way your eyelids twitched while you were dreaming, and your unconscious grasp at his body whenever he shifted. He couldn’t help but coax you out of sleep via kisses to your temple a few minutes before your alarm went off, he had been waiting all night just to see you smile at him again.

“Good morning handsome,” you cooed once you had turned off your alarm. You didn’t wait for a response, instead kissing both of his cheeks and then jumping out of bed. You emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later dressed in your preferred workout clothes. It was Monday and you taught an early self-defense class for women at the local YMCA.

Day 2 offered a different strategy. Day 2 was the day you confronted him head on about it.

“Will you call Dr. Raynor while I’m gone?” you asked, double checking that your gym bag had everything you needed in it. Bucky sighed loudly, trying to decide how to tell you no. He didn’t want to talk to Dr. Raynor. He didn’t want to talk to anyone.

Before he could convey that, you pressed both of your palms into his cheeks and forced him to look at you.

“I know you don’t want to, but you’re going to implode if you don’t talk about this with someone. Go have half a session with her, I promise you’ll feel better after.” You kissed him firmly, then bounced away and out the door.

His life would be so much easier if he didn’t love you more than anything else in the world.

“You’ve reached Dr. Raynor.”

“It’s Bucky. Can I see you today?” he grumbled. Curse you and your adorable charm.

He made it all the way to sitting on the couch across from the doctor before he gave up and wanted to go home.

“What’s bothering you, James?”

Bucky sighed. He had promised you months ago that he’d start being honest with his therapist. As much as he hated it, he had to see this through.

“I had a dream.”

“About the Winter Soldier?”

“About (y/n). (y/n) being held captive by Hydra. They were doing to her…” he shuddered, “they were doing to her what they did to me and I couldn’t stop it.” The words felt like gravel coming out of his mouth. Dr. Raynor nodded.

“When was the last time you had someone in your life that you cared this much about?”

“I don’t know,” he grumbled, “Steve, maybe? My ma and sisters before the war?”

“It’s okay to love her, James. You’re allowed to have good things. It seems like your brain still isn’t convinced of that. I know it’s hard, but let her in. Let her love you even when you’re scared. Can you try that for me?”

Bucky nodded, glancing at the clock. It was almost 10:00, you’d be getting home from your class soon and he didn’t want to miss out on a single second in your presence. He rose from the couch, only hesitating by the doorframe for a second.

“Thanks, Doc.”

“If you’re still struggling in a couple of days give me a call and we can talk through some other strategies.” Bucky nodded before he left.

He stopped at a flower stand before making it home. You walked through the door a few minutes after he had propped them up in a vase on the table.

“Aw, Bucky,” you threw your arms around his neck, “thank you, but you don’t have to apologize.”

He still didn’t know how he got so lucky to have the one person in the universe who could practically read his mind fall in love with him.

“Did you see Dr. Raynor?” He nodded.

“Good. I was thinking about going to the greenhouse today to get some more plants for the apartment. Do you want to come with?” Bucky chuckled as he pointedly looked at the multitude of plants that already adorned every open surface in your small home. He wasn’t sure where you thought you were going to put new plants, but it was a (y/n)-ism he’d never be able to say no to. You were determined to find the saddest looking plants and bring them home, then use your powers to bring them back to life. He suspected it had something to do with your own time held hostage, and a reflection of how you’ve thrived since being liberated from the scientists that once controlled you.

He held open a thicker jacket for you, having noticed the breeze that picked up when he was walking home earlier. You grinned at him as you stuck your arms through the sleeves. He then found your knit hat, gently sliding it over the top of your head and making sure your ears were covered.

He tried not to notice the stares while he followed you around the greenhouse, carrying every pot you handed to him and focusing on your quiet mumblings about the quality of each plant you stopped at. Yesterday’s early spring sun had been replaced by a curtain of clouds and the way you reveled in the humidity of the greenhouse didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky.

“I called Sam earlier,” you said once you were walking back home, “he’s going to come over for dinner.”

Bucky sighed. Of course you called Sam. Sam had worked at the VA long enough that he’d see right through Bucky as soon as he laid eyes on him. You had called Sam in hopes that Bucky would open up to him. You would never force Bucky to talk, it was one of his favorite things about you, but when you noticed him shutting down you often called in those who could press him about his struggles.

You had done it with Dr. Raynor this morning, and you were doing it with Sam now.

Just like he suspected, you left Bucky alone with Sam shortly after dinner had finished, asking the men to wash the dishes together.

“It looks like you’re having a tough time, man. What’s going on?”

Bucky just stared into the stream of water in the sink as he scrubbed a plate, waiting for him to go away.

“Buck.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“So he can speak. Now use those words to tell me why you won’t talk to your girl.” Sam returned to drying the pot Bucky had handed him.

“I… can’t.”

“Why?” Bucky’s eyes narrowed as he considered how long it would take you to forgive him if he happened to smash a few plates while beating Sam up in the kitchen.

“She doesn’t need to worry about it too,” he conceded.

“She’s already worried about you, man.” Sam’s tone was soft. As much as Sam was a pain, Bucky also didn’t deserve Sam’s kindness. “You could probably say four words total and she’d figure it out, just give her something so she can help. Or tell me.”

Bucky finished washing everything in the sink before speaking again.

“Fine,” he grumbled, punching Sam lightly in the shoulder as he walked past him on his way to find you.

“Thank (y/n) for dinner for me, I’ll see myself out,” Sam called after him.

Bucky found you reading in the bedroom, sprawled across the mattress in your favorite pair of Bucky’s sweatpants.

“You didn’t leave Sam unsupervised in our home, did you? I really don’t want to have to replace another TV remote,” you smiled over the top of the pages when Bucky closed the door behind him.

“He left.” Bucky collapsed onto the bed next to you, burying his face into your stomach. Your hands found a home in his hair once your book was discarded on the nightstand.

“Did you get a chance to talk?” you asked carefully. Bucky nodded, inhaling your familiar earthy scent. As much as he hated to admit it, Sam was right. He wouldn’t have to say much for you to understand what was going on in his head. You would know right away.

“Yeah, we did.”

“Good. I was hoping you would.” You didn’t say anything else, just continued your comforting movements across his scalp.

“I had a dream. A- a nightmare.” The words felt like molasses coming out of his mouth.

“I thought so. Are you ready to talk about it?”

As always, you were soft and Bucky took a minute to figure out what he could possibly say to explain himself.

“It was you. They were torturing you,” he managed. Your gentle movements stopped.

“Hydra?” you asked tentatively. Bucky nodded. “Oh, Bucky.” You propped yourself further up on your elbows, gathering him in your embrace. As much time as he had spent protecting you or fighting alongside you, he felt safer in your arms than anywhere else.

“Is that why you haven’t been sleeping?” Bucky’s silence was enough of an answer.

“Would you like me to try to help you sleep, or would you like to stay awake again tonight?”

“I don’t think it’s worth trying,” he answered honestly. Your hand found his metal arm, pulling it up to your lips before you slid out from underneath him.

“Sweets,” Bucky called tiredly, immediately missing your familiarity. He didn’t want to sleep, but he was still exhausted. He wanted to exist with you safely in bed, where he knew Hydra couldn’t get you. Or him.

You paused in the doorway, “I’m just going to get some water, do you want some?” Bucky nodded, pushing himself off of the bed and following you into the kitchen. You filled two glasses, handing one to Bucky before drinking your own.

Once your glass was empty, you set it in the sink and crossed the apartment to the record player nestled between two bookshelves. Bucky recognized the song as soon as he heard the first note from the trumpet. He set down his own glass and joined you, pulling you into his arms. You started to sway in time to the music.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” he breathed. You hummed in response.

“I’ll never force you to tell me anything, you know that.”

“I do. It’s one of the many reasons I love you so much.” He captured your lips with his own. You smiled into the kiss and he reveled in the taste of you.

You tried so hard to stay awake with him the whole night. You watched two movies, danced some more, and even baked cookies while conversing with Bucky about the mundane. He found it easier to talk to you now that you knew what he had been trying to process on his own, though even on a good day you had always been the chattier of the two. Eventually you ended up back on the couch, tucked into his side reading more of your book. Bucky was trying to read a book of his own (the most recent edition of The Hobbit that you got him for his birthday) but kept getting distracted by the way your eyelids kept fluttering shut and your book drooped against your chest.

Bucky lifted it out of your fingers, carefully marking your page before setting the book down and pulling a blanket over you.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m awake,” you grumbled, eyebrows furrowing as you pushed against his chest in an attempt to sit up. For the first time since having the dream, Bucky found himself smiling as he gathered you up into his arms and carried you to bed.

You were his everything: his partner, his best friend, his rock. With you, he had a sense of purpose in his life, a reason to keep existing even when things got bad. Though he had done it before, he wasn’t sure what he’d do now without you.

He traced letters onto your skin for the rest of the night, writing the words he had been too scared to say for the past two days.

The first thing you did when you woke up was put your fingers to his own skin, running them across the shadows under his eyes that had been getting increasingly darker the longer he went without sleeping.

“Sweets,” you yawned as he spoke, pressing yourself impossibly closer to him with a content hum. “You know you could be with someone less… broken than me, right?”

“Why would I want to be with anyone else when I can be with you?”

“So you don’t have to deal with…” he gestured to himself, “all this.”

“I’m just as broken as you are, Sergeant Barnes.” You pressed a kiss to his jaw. “That’s.” Kiss. “Why.” Kiss. “We’re.” Kiss. “Best.” Kiss. “Friends.” Your grin got wider with every word.

You weren’t… wrong. The entire basis of your friendship was developed on the roof of the Avengers compound, where two kids (one being over a hundred years old and the other partially plant matter) found solace in each other from nightmares, science experiments, and just generally not fitting in. Everything about Bucky’s life had gotten easier since you found each other, since there was someone else to get it.

Even when a nightmare kept him from sleeping.

Day 3 looked a lot like Day 1, where you continued business as normal. If Bucky hadn’t told you what was going on in his head, it would have looked more like Day 2, but since you had an idea of what was happening, you were able to provide support and normalcy.

You spent the morning cleaning the apartment. Bucky tried to help, but you mostly tasked him with choosing the next record to play as you worked. As soon as you and Bucky had moved in together (to an apartment in Brooklyn at your insistence) you had started collecting records from the 30s and 40s. When Bucky had asked you about it, your answer was simple: you wanted this apartment to feel as much like home to him as it did to you. If that meant shelves full of plants and a record from the 30s playing, then that’s what you’d do.

Just another line to add to the list of reasons he loved you.

Once you were done cleaning, you made a sandwich and cut it down the middle. You handed half to Bucky, grinning smugly when he chose to eat it.

“Come here,” you tugged at his sleeve when he was finished. He followed you easily into your bedroom, the voice of Judy Garland still warbling from the living room. He watched you with soft eyes as you grabbed the hem of the Henley he was wearing, pulling it gently over his head.

You reached for your own shirt, still watching Bucky watch you stand in just your bra and leggings.

“Come lay in the sun with me,” you cooed, intertwining your fingers with his own and moving towards the bed, where the most perfect sunbeam was cast across the blankets.

As soon as Bucky laid on his stomach next to you he felt the warmth from the sun kiss his skin. You breathed a happy sigh, no doubt feeling the effects of the sunshine on your plant cells. Your eyes were closed, so you didn’t notice the way Bucky was admiring the slight greenish tinge that glowed under your skin while you absorbed the sun.

It was while he was cherishing this moment with you that his eyelids felt heavier than they had in days. He succumbed to the feeling, focusing more on how this simple activity with you made him feel rather than the fear of falling asleep. For the first time since he had dreamt about you being tortured, Bucky fell asleep.

~(y/n)~

As soon as you heard Bucky’s breathing slow, you opened your eyes. You had hoped basking in the sun together would comfort him enough to send him to sleep for the first time in three days. The sun was giving you the energy you needed, a welcome reprieve from the dark winter months that had just passed.

Admittedly, much of your time with Bucky since meeting him had been spent memorizing every nuance of his features. It was an activity you’d never get tired of (albeit a slightly creepy one). You had to keep yourself from touching him, not wanting to disturb the sleep he was finally getting. Even before you were dating, you always had felt so safe in his presence that you wanted to be as close as possible to him. You often piled on top of each other on the couch in the Compound lounge watching movies together, finding desperate reassurance from the other that you weren’t going through this life alone.

Since finally confessing your feelings to each other and moving in together shortly after, you almost never kept your hands to yourself and kisses were an added act of comfort that you could share. Sam was keen to remind you both that the other wasn’t going anywhere, that you had both safely made it out of a lifetime of turmoil, that you didn’t have to be gross every ten seconds when he was in the room too. Ultimately, Bucky was an extension of your existence and holding his hand was as comforting as putting oxygen into your lungs.

You stayed entranced in the nuances of Bucky’s face for so long that the sun started to set. Golden rays crept through the window, illuminating his features in the most charming way. God, you were so in love with this man.

He smiled at the same time he cracked open his cerulean blue eyes.

“Handsome,” you whispered, still a little bit in awe that this gorgeous, kind specimen of a human was willingly sharing a bed with you. Bucky chuckled, blinking against the sunlight.

“Morning sweets,” he whispered back, still grinning sleepily. You couldn’t help but match his smile as you shook your head.

“It’s only been a few hours. How did you sleep?” Unable to contain yourself anymore, you reached out to join your hand with his between your bodies.

“Good,” he answered, pulling your hand to his lips and kissing each knuckle.

“No dreams, then?” Hopefully his struggle had passed for the time being, and you wouldn’t have to watch the man you loved suffer without being able to help for a little while.

Bucky chuckled again, this time releasing your hand so he could slide his arm around your waist and pull you closer to him. You tucked yourself into his broad chest, happy to see him so happy.

“I did have a dream. A good one,” he clarified when your brow furrowed. A simple kiss to your forehead eased all of the tension you carried there before he continued, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Care to share?” you prodded gently.

“We were on the roof of the compound, under the stars, and we were dancing to that song you like. The one about dying together and not going to heaven or hell.”

“Mmmm,” you hummed, “that is a good dream. And a good song.”

“It is,” he trailed off, pressing his lips into your hair. “Thank you,” he finally murmured. You pulled back so your eyes could meet his.

“You never have to suffer alone, Bucky, not if I have anything to do with it. Just like you don’t let me suffer alone.” It was important to you to make sure Bucky knew you loved him unconditionally. Though he didn’t often show it, he was often insecure about himself and his past. You wished you could show him how you saw him, how you’d continue to care about him and for him even when you knew the darkest parts of him.

“Loved you then, love you now, sweets.” Your hands reached up to cup his cheeks.

“Loved you then, love you now, handsome.”

And if Heaven and Hell decide that they both are satisfied Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks Then I'll follow you into the dark -Death Cab for Cutie

Read in all of our phases here!

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #tfatws #marvel mcu #marvel bucky barnes #sebastian stan #yes the last scene is definitely inspired by that one scene in fresh (2022)#i just want to see bucky smile

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pastpatientlywaitingforimagines · 2 years

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Oh my… these last few days have been hell in my personal life, but this comment just made me reallllllly happy. Thank you so much for the kind words 💕💕

in all of our phases | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 17.7K

Summary: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Enhanced!Reader AU where Bucky comes back from Wakanda to live in the compound for a while after Civil War and before Infinity War. Otherwise mostly canon timeline compliant. He uses the extra time I gave him to attempt to confess his love to you. You’re welcome.

aka James Buchanan Barnes is a simp for 17k words aka All the times Bucky woke up without you in his arms and the one time he did aka Bucky vs every trope you can think of

Warnings: canon level violence, mild swearing, romance, very vaguely implied smut, mentions of hospitals, injuries, death, trauma. SPOILERS for Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Captain America: Civil War, Black Panther, Avengers: Infinity War, Avengers: Endgame, TFATWS, Black Widow

SOUNDTRACK, TRACKLIST

darling, the moon is still the moon in all of its phases -isra al-thibeh | on becoming

Bucky Barnes was not the type to fall in love. Before the war, he was just interested in dating around. After the war… well, let’s just say he had other priorities. No, Bucky wasn’t the type to fall in love- and then he met you.

It wasn’t intentional, the feelings he harbored for you. He didn’t mean to fall in love. It just so happened that you were unlike anyone he had ever met and as soon as he realized how much he enjoyed being in your presence it occurred to him that he might be in deeper than he originally thought.

You had first become friends with Bucky on the roof of the compound in the middle of the night. Though he denied it, it was his nightmares that kept him awake. You claimed insomnia, though Bucky was almost positive your own dreams kept you awake as well. There was a certain vulnerability that came from 2AM conversations that easily shifted the topic of conversation. Long talks about nothing turned into discussing the horrors of your pasts, sharing trauma between you.

For Bucky, it was the time he spent captured by Hydra. It was big, it was traumatic, and it had caused him to lose over 70 years of his life. His story was that of a soldier, and you were always quick to remind him that it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t the Bucky that you knew that would do the horrific things that the Winter Soldier did, and yet it was totally normal for him to feel guilty because he is a good person. Something about the way you validated his feelings made him believe you more than he did anyone else.

Your story was a little bit different. You had been grown in a lab, your enhanced abilities derived from plant cells that had mutated into your biology. Your life was far from normal, and it only got crazier when Natasha and Clint invaded the lab on a mission for SHIELD. They took you back with them, convinced that your powers could be used for good. Clint taught you how to fight and how to harness your power into something more useful. Natasha taught you how to survive in the outside world and helped you acclimate to life as both a SHIELD agent and a regular person.

He decided very early on that his feelings for you were a secret that he would take to the grave. He was fairly certain Steve had figured it out himself, the product of a friendship that spanned more than just a normal lifetime, but he’d never admit it if asked directly. The only person he would ever admit it to would be you, if he could only find the perfect moment to tell you.

That’s how he found himself set out looking for you as soon as he arrived back to the Avenger’s Compound from a mission months later. You had been working on two halves of the same objective halfway across the world from each other. You, Natasha, and Clint had gone to Australia to dismantle a Hydra unit that had popped up, while Steve, Sam, and Bucky had been following up on an associated unit in Europe that was crucial in the success of the mission. As much as he liked working with Steve and Sam, it had been two weeks since Bucky had been in your presence and he was craving your company.

Bucky had expected you to be with Clint and Natasha when he found them in the kitchen of the compound.

“Finally, you’re back,” Natasha commented when she saw the three men enter the room.

“Sam wanted to take the scenic route,” Bucky grumbled, crossing the room so he could check down the hallway towards your room. He wasn’t going to waste time making small talk if you weren’t there.

“We do all this traveling and never get to see anything. I just wanted to visit the Leaning Tower of Pisa and get a photo for my nephews.” Sam explained. “I’m sure your girlfriend doesn’t mind us being a little late.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Bucky shot back over his shoulder before he got further down the hall. He was only met by your closed door, a sure sign that you weren’t inside. It was no secret that you hated being enclosed in a room alone, even by your own doing, though Bucky was the only one who knew it was because you had been locked inside your room at the lab as punishment for ‘misbehaving’. He wanted to run back down the hallway and demand information from Natasha and Clint, but he couldn’t do that without drawing attention to himself.

He took the opportunity to consider how mad you’d be at him for roughing up your best friends as he stalked back towards the kitchen, but abandoned the thought as soon as Natasha’s head turned to him. She was ready to offer information instead of being forced to share.

“She’s downstairs in the med bay.”

This time, Bucky did run.

His mind was racing as fast as his feet were as he pushed past Steve and back towards the stairs he had come up moments before. You hadn’t told him you were hurt, he had just been talking to you over your comm the day before. You had seemed confident about the last part of your mission, nothing to indicate that you could possibly get hurt. Natasha hadn’t given him any specifics, either. You could be dying, for all he knew.

He didn’t stop running until his eyes found you, your lips turned downward in what seemed to be a fitful sleep. Bucky opened the glass door quietly, stepping just across the threshold. You had a few cuts and scrapes on your face and an angry bruise on your collarbone, though nothing out of the ordinary for a mission and definitely not something you’d end up in the med bay for. He had seen you roll your eyes at Clint forcing you to get stitches after a particularly rough fight, whatever it was that had you here in the infirmary had nothing to do with the superficial injuries on your skin.

You shifted in your sleep, arm moving up to rest on your stomach. There were bandages wrapped around the entirety of your right hand and wrist, stopping just below your elbow. As soon as Bucky took another step forward, your eyes fluttered open.

The default panic in your expression was replaced by a soft smile when you recognized the man standing in front of you.

“Hey,” you managed, “welcome home.” You moved over slightly, making room on the mattress. Though you tried to hide it, Bucky noticed the way you grimaced in pain as you moved. He gently sank onto the bed next to you, one arm slinking over your pillow and the other resting across your stomach to trace patterns into your exposed elbow with metal fingertips. He watched your skin erupt in goosebumps, a pleased sigh escaping your lips when your head fell sideways to rest on his chest. You seemed abnormally groggy, eyelashes brushing closed every now and then.

“You okay, sweets?” Bucky asked, mindlessly writing Russian letters into your skin. He could feel your muscles relaxing with every touch.

“Better now,” you smirked, “an asshat Hydra goonie shut a steel door in my face this morning and I had to bust through it so we could finish the mission.”

There was no way Bucky could hide the admiration in his voice, “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I can’t,” you laughed quietly, taking no offense to his words. Bucky was convinced your powers were magic despite the number of times you told him it was just science, but super strength wasn’t in your arsenal. “We had no other choice so I made it work.”

“Of course you did, you’re amazing,” he said, lips pressed into the crown of your head.

“Don’t let Steve hear you say that,” you quipped lightly. Of all the things Bucky loved about you, your relationship with his best friend was one of his favorites. You had met Steve first, of course, and had been there when Bucky joined the team. You often teased the both of them about ‘their first love’, and it only made him adore you more.

“Where have you been?” you yawned.

“Sam wanted to play tourist. He said something about photos for his nephews.”

“His nephews are infants.”

“That’s what I said,” Bucky laughed, “so how long are you stuck down here for?”

“I wish I knew, they won’t tell me.”

“Why not? Clearly you’re uncomfortable. You’re not going to heal if you’re stressed out.”

“I told them that but they didn’t listen. I’d see myself out but they gave me a sedative while my arm was being set and I haven’t completely slept it off yet.” As far as Bucky was concerned, that was all the permission he needed pull himself gently from your embrace. As soon as he stood, your lip stuck out in a pout at the loss of contact.

“Where are you going?” Bucky slid his arms underneath you, effectively lifting your whole body along with the blanket you were wrapped in.

“I’m getting you out of here,” he grunted as he kicked the door open, making you giggle.

“Can we stop in the kitchen on the way? I think Peter left some ice cream in the freezer and it’s all I’ve been thinking about since I’ve been back.” You yawned again and your fingers grasped at the front of his shirt.

“What’s that thing you always say? Go big and go away?”

“Go big or go home,” you reminded him with a tired laugh. Even half conscious, your eyes still sparkled in the most enchanting way. Bucky’s focus was forced to shift from watching you to the footsteps approaching you from an adjacent hallway. He ducked behind a doorway, careful not to shake you with the sudden movement. You were watching his expression closely, not having heard what he did until whomever it was had passed. Based on the gait Bucky guessed it was Pepper, probably heading down into the lab to find Tony.

Once she had passed, Bucky carried you as fast as he could up the stairs, helping you sit up on the counter in the kitchen while he rummaged around in the freezer. He found the carton with only minimal difficulty, handing it to you along with two spoons before scooping you up again and walking down the hallway to his room.

“How long do you think we have before they come looking for me?” you asked, bumping your shoulder into his once you were sitting next to him on his bed, ice cream between you.

“Doesn’t matter,” Bucky replied, turning his spoon over thoughtfully in his mouth, “they’ll have to get through me first, I won’t let them take you back there.”

“Ok, tough guy,” you teased, though Bucky could already see the way you were more relaxed than you had been confined in the med bay.

The carton was empty long before there was a knock at Bucky’s door. You sat up from your all too comfortable position lounging in Bucky’s arms at the sound, pressing yourself further away from whoever was on the other side. Bucky rose slowly, metal hand caressing your knee reassuringly before he crossed the room. Though his super soldier abilities were sometimes a curse, he was grateful to know exactly who was waiting for him.

“Barton,” he addressed the man standing on the other side.

“Is (y/n) with you?” Clint wasted no time. Bucky considered his options. He could lie, but he suspected Clint already knew the answer to his own question. He could tell the truth, and fight the skilled archer hand to hand, or he could offer a question in return. His eyes met Clint’s, locking them in a cold stare.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Look, Bucky, I don’t want to fight you over this. I just need to know that (y/n) is ok and not wandering the compound somewhere when she’s hurt.”

“You let them put her down there. They gave her a sedative. Of all people you should know she doesn’t like being down there-“

“Bucky,” his outburst was interrupted by you calling quietly from over his shoulder, “it’s alright. Clint, I’m not going to go wandering the compound until I can do so safely.”

“Promise?” his eyes never left Bucky’s as he talked to you, returning the super soldier’s stare.

“I promise.” There wasn’t anything Bucky could do that would be more convincing than the exchange that had happened between you and Clint, but that didn’t stop him from trying to get the archer to go away as soon as possible.

“I heard the kid left some ice cream in the freezer, it’s yours if you want it.” Bucky heard you snort from behind him at his offer, but Clint didn’t notice, instead expressing his appreciation for the tip.

“It wasn’t his fault I got stuck down there,” you said once the door was closed and Bucky was rejoining you on his mattress.

“Was it Romanoff’s?” his eyes narrowed, watching you settle contently into his side. He pulled a blanket up to your shoulders, hoping the fleece would negate the cold metal of his arm against your skin.

“No,” your eyes rolled, “Nat and Clint had nothing to do with it. I asked to go.”

“Why would you do that?” Bucky knew for a fact that you usually tried to avoid the med bay at all costs, even if it meant doing janky first aid alone in your bedroom. You bit your lip, obviously still uncomfortable thinking about being downstairs.

“My hand was really messed up, I wouldn’t have been able to set it myself. I wasn’t about to risk losing function of it just because I’m afraid of the infirmary. Nat and Clint tried to figure out every possible alternative before I finally told them I would just go where there was a higher chance of making it out with two working hands.”

“I know someone who could have made you a new one.”

“I don’t think the team could handle two Wakandan prosthetics. We’d finish missions before anyone else even showed up.” You shifted, resting your bandaged hand across his stomach and looking up at him with soft eyes, “I wouldn’t mind taking a vacation to Wakanda, though.”

You weren’t teasing anymore, changing the subject to a tangible goal for your future.

“You’d like it there, it’s nothing like this,” he gestured to the grey walls of the compound, “everything there is so…. vibrant. And you’d get along well with Shuri.”

“We’ll go once my hand is good, ok?”

“Mmm,” Bucky pressed his lips to the top of your head, “sounds like a plan to me.”

You sighed contently, eyes finally fluttering shut for the final time. Bucky’s thoughts were left to run wild fantasizing a trip to Africa with you. He was pretty certain you had never taken a vacation in your life. To him it seemed like you were held captive by SHIELD and the Avengers just as much as you had been at the lab, but you were constantly telling him that you had more free will in the compound than you ever did before.

He wanted to listen to you talk with Shuri, even if he didn’t understand half of the scientific jargon that came out of your precious mouth. He wanted to walk the streets of the city, buying anything you laid your hands on just to see you smile. He wanted to show you where he spent his time healing, where the Winter Soldier became the White Wolf.

You were fully asleep, breathing slowly against the material of his shirt. You looked peaceful in a way that Bucky never got to see when you were conscious. Though you were one of the more relaxed residents of the compound, your closeness to him revealed all of your turmoils. He watched the way your eyes moved under closed lids, half expecting you to wake from whatever dream you were having. The faint smile on your lips contradicted his worry about nightmares, letting him finally doze off to the pattern of your chest moving against his.

For the first time in a long time, Bucky wanted to live for the future instead of running from his past, but he still wasn’t ready to tell you how he felt.

…

He could pinpoint exactly the moment he realized he was in love with you. It was at a gala Tony held for the Stark Relief Foundation. Bucky had spent the entire time across the room from you, entranced in your movements as you chatted with Natasha and Wanda.

“Nat looks great tonight,” Steve sauntered up to his best friend, acknowledging his line of sight. When Bucky only grunted, unable to tear his eyes away from you, Steve amended his earlier statement, “but it’s not Nat you’re staring at, is it?”

“I’m not staring.” To try to be more convincing, Bucky finally faced his friend.

“Sure you aren’t,” he smirked, “you should ask her to dance.”

“Nobody else is dancing, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ask her to dinner then. Just do something before she catches you drooling.”

“That’s great advice. Thanks, Captain America,” Bucky deadpanned, trying to be subtle about the way he cast his gaze back in your direction. He was met by your own eyes, and as soon as they caught his you broke out into a smile he knew was meant for him. It felt like he had won the lottery. You didn’t leave the conversation you were having with Natasha and now Peter, who had just arrived. You reached up to fix Peter’s tie, ruffling his gelled hair playfully once you were done.

Your intentions were honest and pure, a trend Bucky noticed with everyone you met. As happy as it made him to be in your presence on missions and around the compound, he was still a man who had murdered in cold blood for the last seventy years. It was jarring, how content he felt around you. It was a feeling he didn’t deserve.

The longer he thought about it, the more frustrated he felt. The paradox of wanting to be next to you- to be the cause of that brilliant smile- and wanting to stay far away as to not corrupt you with his past badness was taxing. The room seemed to be getting smaller, hotter, more crowded. Bucky tugged at his tie, desperate to feel less suffocated as he retreated to the one place he knew he’d be safe: the roof.

During the day the roof was ordinary, just another standard part of the compound. At night however, underneath the wide expanse of stars, Bucky felt like he was just a very small part of a very large universe. The tininess of his existence was humbling and refreshing, a break from the way his decisions during his every day life affected most of the global population.

It was this kind of break that he sought out that night of the gala, the darkness enveloping him as he stood near the edge of the roof. He stood alone and just breathed.

“Thought I’d find you up here,” you called from behind him somewhere around a half hour later. Bucky turned around, watching you make your way over to him. You were holding a bright blue drink, illuminated by the light flooding from the door behind you.

“Here,” you handed him the glass, “this’ll take the edge off.”

“Alcohol doesn’t work on me, sweets.” He took the glass anyways.

“Lucky for you there’s no alcohol in there. Just water. Our last mission really took it out of me so I’m rehydrating for a while. Water is good for my plant cells. It’s good for super soldiers, too.”

“Why is it blue?” He took a sip. You were right, just water.

“Food dye. Did you ever put a carnation in colored water during school to learn about water transfer in plants?” Bucky shook his head. “Me neither,” you said, quickly passing over the fact that you had never been to school and Bucky had attended in the 1930s, “but Peter did, this was his idea. Look!” You held up your fingers and Bucky noticed the same artificial blue color tinting the tips.

It was in this moment that Bucky forgot every ounce of animosity he had towards himself. Your joy was so pure, so essentially you, that he couldn’t avoid it- especially since you had gone out of your way to share it with him.

“I thought your days of being a science experiment were over,” he teased.

“They are. This is a fun experiment though, nothing like what happened to me before.” You quieted.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to bring that up.”

“It’s ok. What are you doing up here anyways? It’s much warmer inside.” Bucky hadn’t noticed the brisk fall air, but you were shaking like a leaf under the thin material of your gala outfit.

“Too many people,” he lied, “needed some air. You should get inside, though. I don’t want to find out what happens to your plant cells if you freeze.”

“I’m not going inside until you do. I’m won’t let you isolate yourself on purpose. We don’t even have to talk, but I’m not going anywhere.” You crossed your arms stubbornly.

“You’re impossible, did you know that?” Bucky’s flesh arm slid over your shoulder, pulling you into his side and guiding you back inside.

“Impossibly… perfect? Amazing? The best friend you’ve ever had?” Even fishing for compliments you were completely adorable.

“Are you going back to the party?” He avoided your question with one of his own.

“No, Nat already left because she’s going on a mission tomorrow, Peter has curfew, and Wanda is making googly eyes at Vision. Nobody fun was around anymore so I came to find you. I think I’m going to go back to my room and watch a movie that Nat recommended. Do you want to come with? She says it has vampires and werewolves, but apparently the werewolves don’t even show up until the second movie.”

“That’s ridiculous, everyone knows werewolves are better than vampires. Why wouldn’t they be in the first movie?”

“I don’t know, but Nat said it was a big cultural thing and I should watch it because my teenage years were wasted.”

“I must have missed it too, then. I’ll get the snacks?” Your eyes lit up, and Bucky swore they were brighter than the stars above your head.

“Yes please. Meet in my room in ten?”

Bucky made popcorn, then walked back to your room. He leaned in the doorway awkwardly, unsure where you planned for him to sit. It wasn’t his first time in your room, but it was the first time he had been there with the intention of staying longer than a few minutes. You had made yourself comfortable in a pile of pillows and blankets on your bed, and as soon as you saw him you patted the space next to you.

“Come on in,” you chimed, “make yourself at home, just leave the door open please?”

He only saw half of what happened in the movie, instead charmed by the way you reacted to what was on the screen and the warmth of your weight leaning against him. It was different than the times you had fallen asleep on his shoulder after missions. Those times were always on the jet surrounded by your friends, when you let the exhaustion take over your body.

You were consciously making the decision to be close to him this time, with no one around to witness it but yourselves.

“You know, I really wish you wouldn’t lie to me,” you hummed as the credits rolled.

“What do you mean?” He waited for you to pull away from him, but you didn’t.

“There’s another reason why you went to the roof besides there being too many people at the gala, I just haven’t figured it out. You don’t have to tell me, you never have to tell me, but please don’t lie to me. If you ever feel like talking about it, though, I’m a good listener. It’s a plant thing,” you added as an afterthought.

“I think it’s a you thing, sweets,” Bucky lifted his arm to place it around your shoulders, pulling you tighter into his side in an attempt to say thank you.

…

Bucky opened his eyes to sunlight streaming through his windows and your comfortable weight gone. He wasn’t stressed, if you had been taken against your will you would have made enough of a scene to wake him. Your legs must have been feeling better, leaving Bucky to wander out of his room and try to locate you before Barton did.

You weren’t in the kitchen, your room, or the common room, the three most obvious places for you to go. You also frequented Natasha’s room, but Bucky didn’t want to alert the spy to your disappearance from his supervision until he was completely sure he couldn’t find you elsewhere in the compound.

He tried the med bay next, though he assumed you’d have woken him if you needed to go back. As he expected, you weren’t there, giving him no reason to go further down into the lab. He tried the training room next, figuring you may have gone to observe some of the other Avengers in their training that was due to start soon. Bucky was also supposed to be there, but he was determined to find you first.

While his theory about your location was correct, his reasoning was wrong. Bucky leaned against the door frame, watching you from afar as you stood in the middle of the sparring ring, both hands up and ready to train with the woman across from you. Wanda was a worthy opponent, Bucky had spent plenty of time sparring the Scarlet Witch himself. Part of him worried for your health, but he trusted you to make the best decisions for yourself.

It seemed you had agreed to not use powers, Wanda’s hands weren’t glowing and you showed no indication that you’d be using yours either. Instead, you were fighting close combat, Bucky’s trained eye noting the way you completely avoided using your still healing right hand.

Even with the impairment, you had Wanda pinned after a few minutes. You stood, helping her up with a laugh. Wanda murmured something to you, likely about Bucky’s presence due to the way you turned to him. Your grin widened when you saw him watching you.

“You up for another round?” he called, returning your grin and cocking his head.

“Be my guest,” you gestured to the mat. Wanda stepped aside, letting Bucky take her spot. You stopped him when he reached for his metal arm, “what are you doing?”

“You’re only using one arm, thought I’d make it fair.”

“It’s fair when you leave your arm on, super soldier,” you teased, winking as you turned to walk away to the opposite corner. There was fire in your eyes and a grin on your face as you squared up to him.

Bucky let you move first, still unsure of how hard you wanted to go less than a day after being in the med bay. Having sparred you multiple times in the past, it took Bucky no time at all to realize that you were going full out despite only using one arm.

It was evident in your fighting style that Clint had taught you and that you had practiced with Natasha, traces of their training leaked into the way you moved. Aside from that, your fighting style was light and breezy with your legs providing a strong base, a reflection of your supernatural abilities even when you weren’t using them. Bucky was merely reacting to your advances, blocking punch after punch.

You swung again, stumbling as you lost your balance. Bucky took the opportunity to go on the offensive with tough, blocky strokes. You used the non-bandaged part of your injured arm to block him, stepping closer and tripping him with your ankle.

He fell backwards and grabbed your shoulders, bringing you with him. You rolled until he had you underneath him, arms on either side of your face. He thought that would be the end of it, but you grabbed his flesh arm and pulled it to the side, shifting his balance forward as you moved your upper body out of the way, kicking him upwards. You popped up and turned, hitting him in the shoulder with a well placed kick.

As you tussled on the floor, trading punches whilst grinning the whole time, you missed the other Avengers gathering in the room for their planned training. You missed Natasha elbow Clint and the glare shared between Steve and Tony as they watched you spar. Each of them had their suspicions of the chemistry between the young agent and the former Winter Soldier, chemistry neither of you really tried to hide but never confirmed either.

By sheer body mass, Bucky got the upper hand and backed you across the ring as you desperately tried to block his attack. You had once told him that you liked fighting hand to hand for the braininess of it. Defensive moves were second nature, leaving your brain to work out how to turn the fight in your favor. Your familiarity with Bucky always left him feeling like you were inside his head, turning moves against him before he knew what was happening.

In a blur of movement, Bucky found himself pinned, vibranium arm twisted behind his back and held by your quick fingers. His face was pressed into the soft floor, the distribution of your weight across his back holding him down.

“Alright, alright, I surrender,” he chuckled.

“Hell yeah you do,” you grinned, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to his exposed cheek before lifting yourself off of him. He stood, following you off of the mat and toward the water fountain that Tony had installed. Every move you made was enchanting, your body glowing with sweat and eyes still as fiery as they were before the fight. You held a cup under the stream of water and Bucky watched the way your biceps flexed under the material of your t-shirt.

“Your hand doing ok?” he asked when you finished your first cup, handing him one as well when you went to grab a second.

“Mmm,” you hummed, “I talked to Bruce this morning about attempting to speed up my healing process. Steve’s already excused me from this training, so I’m going to go eat some fruit and see if I can encourage production of the hormone that plants use to heal. I’ll see you when you’re done?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you after.” He watched you walk away, turning around to wave at him as you left the room. Once you were gone, he rejoined the team.

“You still haven’t told her,” Steve said when Bucky had made it over to his side. It was a statement, not a question.

“Nope.”

“Are you ever?”

“I’m working on it.”

Steve seemed skeptical of his answer, and rightly so. In fact, Bucky had no intentions of telling you in the near future at all. He would just continue loving and supporting you from afar and not risk causing you any more hurt in your life than what you had already endured. A trip to Wakanda was next on his list, though it took a few more weeks until you skipped into his room wiggling your newly free fingers.

…

Bucky contemplated just stealing a jet or asking Natasha if she had any contacts that could set him up with something, but he decided it best to just ask Tony and see where that would get him. This trip had to be perfect and acquiring an aircraft by sketchy means would probably cause things to go less than stellar.

Seconds before entering the lab, Bucky wondered if Steve’s permission would have been enough, but he was in too deep to turn around now.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Cyborg?” Tony called him out as soon as Bucky had stepped into the lab.

“I need to take a jet to Wakanda.”

“Is something wrong with your arm? I can fix it, if that’s what you’re after. Let me take a look,” Tony left the project he was working on to move towards Bucky, eyes only on his left arm.

“My arm is fine,” Bucky took a step away from his advances, “I want to take (y/n) there now that she’s feeling better.”

“Ahhh, taking your girl to your old stomping grounds, I see.”

“She’s not-” arguing seemed futile, “she said she wanted to go and asked if I could show her around, that’s it. Can I take a jet or no?” Bucky was starting to get impatient. If Tony wouldn’t give him permission he’d have to go talk to Steve, who’s teasing would be even more relentless than Tony’s.

“Sure, just bring it back in one piece. No joy rides. I’m doing it as a favor to (y/n), by the way. I’m not totally convinced you’re completely on our side.”

“I’m not convinced you’re completely on our side, either,” Bucky shrugged, leaving the lab before he said anything else that might cause Tony to revoke his jet privileges.

He found you in the kitchen, bantering with Natasha about the best way to cut a sandwich. He couldn’t help but grin when he saw you, more excited to travel with you than he had been about anything recently.

“What’s got you so smiley?” you asked, smiling brighter than the sun yourself.

“We’re going on vacation.” If it was possible for your smile to get any bigger, it would have.

“Where are you going?” Natasha asked, leaning into the counter with a smirk.

“Bucky’s taking me to Wakanda,” you grinned, abandoning your sandwich to skip to his side, “when are we leaving?”

“As soon as you’re ready, sweets.”

You dashed off down the hall, presumably to pack your bag.

“‘As soon as you’re ready, sweets’,” Natasha mocked the depth of Bucky’s voice once you were gone. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger, Barnes.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. Don’t tell her I said this, but you’re the first person she’s really gotten close to besides Clint and I. She likes to think she’s close with Steve and Wanda and everyone, but they don’t know her the way we do. It’s good for her to have someone else who gets it.”

It was good for him to have her too, Bucky thought. He had courted plenty of girls back in the 40s, before the war, but none of them had ever made him feel like you did. In all of the years he had been alive, it was an inhuman girl that met him while he was doubting his own humanity who made him feel the most human emotion of them all.

“Ok,” you breathed once you had rejoined him in the kitchen, “I’m ready now. Actually, wait, I want this too.” You reached across the counter to take half of your sandwich, the hem of your shirt raising slightly to reveal a sliver of skin. It took everything he had to tear his eyes away, not wanting Natasha to notice the extent of how much you dazzled him.

“Have fun,” Nat called as he turned with you to leave. You spun around, leaving his side to dash quickly back to her and press a kiss to her cheek.

“Love you!” You called back as you raced to catch up to where Bucky was waiting. “Where’s your stuff?” You asked innocently.

“Already in the jet. Thought you’d want to leave as soon as possible.”

“You know me so well,” you sang, skipping ahead of him towards the aircraft bay.

You spun around when you asked him which jet you’d be taking. He pointed to the correct one, but you waited until he was next to you to walk over to it.

“You call shotgun!” you yelled, pushing past him to plop into the pilots chair once you had entered the aircraft.

“That’s not how that game works, is it?” He asked, occupying the chair next to you without argument.

“I don’t know the rules, Nat only explained so much to me,” you shrugged, firing up the engine and slowly lifting the quinjet off the ground. “Tony’s jet is so fancy, nothing like what I’m used to flying.”

“Didn’t SHIELD have nice jets too?” Bucky relaxed back into the seat as you flipped a few switches.

“Yeah, but Nick never let me fly them. Clint taught me in an older model and that was the only one I was allowed to fly. Little Blue, we called her. She was much grittier than this jet. In this jet I can just,” you dipped each wingtip fluidly. “See? No grit.”

The conversation lulled for a bit while you focused on your flight pattern. Bucky noticed the way your tongue played between your lips as you concentrated. He had been on jets with you plenty of times, but had never actually seen you piloting one. It was incredibly attractive, he decided.

“It’s like you and Steve,” you finally broke the silence once you had pushed the autopilot button.

“What is?”

“Steve is like this jet. America’s golden boy super soldier, all smooth and shiny around the edges. You’re a super soldier too, you just have more grit.”

“More grit, huh?” It wasn’t the way he would have described the differences between him and Steve, but you seemed convinced in your analogy.

“It’s not a bad thing. I like it better, actually.” You mumbled the second part under your breath, sinking further into your seat. Bucky couldn’t think of anything to say to that, instead settling back into a comfortable silence as he reveled in the fact that you had just said aloud that you preferred him to Steve.

Your gasp when you saw the extent of Wakanda sprawled on the ground beneath you immediately made the whole trip worth it.

Shuri met you in the field where the jet had landed, quickly introducing herself to you.

“Show her what you can do,” Bucky gently encouraged as you walked closer to the city.

“It’s not much,” you blushed at Shuri’s inquisitive gaze, but you brushed your hands along the plant life lining the pathway. The smaller shrubs shied from your touch, pushing their leaves away from you.

“My biological makeup is enough of a plant that externally they see me as a competitor and I can move them using negative space. If I wasn’t wearing shoes I’d be able to connect into the root system and move them the other way. Not trees though, trees are stubborn,” you half chuckled.

“Can you create them?” Bucky could practically see the way Shuri’s mind was racing with possibility as she asked for further information about your abilities.

“No, it’s not magic, just science. I can spatially manipulate what already exists and encourage chemical processes like growth, but if there isn’t already established plant matter I can’t make it appear.”

“Do you use your powers to fight?”

“Sometimes, if it lends itself to the mission. A lot of the work I do is inside bunkers and offices though, so I only have the rogue houseplant here and there to use.”

“We should go up to my lab, I can help you turn your plant science into fighting plant science.”

You glanced over at Bucky, eyes meeting his. He had spent plenty of time reading your expression since meeting you, and it only took a second for him to pick up on your uncertainty. He tried his best to be silently supportive, hoping your innate knowledge of his thoughts would clue you in to his mindset that whatever decision you made would be the right one.

You surprised him by agreeing to work with Shuri, though you bumped your elbow gently into his as you followed her into her lab. Bucky understood as soon as he saw you admiring Shuri’s work. Having grown up in a lab, no matter how brutal, had given you an instinctual appreciation for the scientific process. Your knowledge was mostly in bioscience, leaving you extra curious about other technology.

Somewhere in your mind, Tony’s work was made equitable to the experiments happening in the lab you lived in prior to moving to the compound. On multiple occasions you had expressed your frustration in being unable to appreciate the work Tony was doing due to your past. Bucky did his best to reassure you that your wellbeing was the highest priority, but he was well aware that you’d be the only one able to actually convince yourself of such.

While you worked, Bucky found a stool and was content spinning in circles as he watched you gush over Shuri’s technology. In all of your years of missions you had stubbornly been using a standard issue SHIELD uniform with minimal modifications, but now you were talking animatedly with the Wakandan princess about gloves with seed pockets and shoes without soles.

After so many months of noticing the way you squirmed during unavoidable trips to Tony’s lab, seeing you so excited to be doing science was like a breath of fresh air. Bringing you to Wakanda was one of the best things Bucky had ever done, he decided.

…

Though King T’Challa offered a room to you in his home, you asked to stay in the hut Bucky had lived in during his last stay. Bucky was grateful, the sleeping mat on the hard ground reminded him of the days he had spent here before moving into the compound, and you never seemed uncomfortable when you were outside.

When the sun had set and you were laying side by side, you spoke.

“Thank you for showing me this part of your life. I’d ask you to share the other parts, too, but Tony hasn’t invented time travel yet.”

“What makes you think it’ll be Stark’s invention?”

“Don’t be silly, of course it’s going to be Tony. Who else would it be?” You didn’t give him time to answer, your tone softening, “once he does invent it and we can go back to your life before the war, what’s the first thing you would want to do?”

Bucky didn’t even have to think to know his answer, “I would take you dancing.”

“Dancing?”

“Mhm,” Bucky hummed, allowing himself to daydream about holding you close and swaying to the sound of trumpets. It was a wish he knew would never come true, Tony wouldn’t really invent time travel, right?

“I don’t really know how to dance. Nat tried to teach me once. Right after I joined SHIELD she and Clint tried to help me find a hobby, but she’s a ballerina and I had a hard time keeping up.”

“You don’t have to know how to dance to go dancing with me, sweets. All you have to do is follow my lead.”

You were quiet for a long time, long enough that Bucky thought you had fallen asleep. It wasn’t until he was rushing towards unconsciousness himself that you spoke again, barely a whisper passing through your lips like a summer breeze rustling through the treetops. If he wasn’t a super soldier, he wouldn’t have heard it in the first place. “I’d follow your lead anywhere, Bucky Barnes.”

The next day was as magical as the first. Bucky watched you experience not only Wakanda, but the world outside of the compound. All of the traveling you had done was for missions only, never any time to stop and take in the beauty of the world you were finally living in.

As enchanting as it was to watch you explore, a selfish part of his brain feared that this vacation would open your eyes to possibility and you would leave the compound, leave him, for good. He pushed those thoughts asides as best he could, trying not to dwell on the negative when you were having so much fun. You wandered down the streets of the city, perusing the different stalls of wares being sold by the locals. Bucky followed along like a lost puppy, entranced by the way the sun kissed your cheekbones.

“You’re not even paying attention, Bucky,” you whined, though the smile that graced your face was impossible for you to hide. He hadn’t heard a single thing you had said, and you knew it. “I asked if you would help me find something to bring home for Clint’s kids. They’d never forgive me if Auntie (y/n) went on vacation for once and didn’t bring back presents.”

“I’m not the right person to ask, sweets. What do kids even like?”

“I’m sure you’ll know when you find the right thing. They aren’t normal kids, their dad is literally an Avenger.” You patted his arm and started walking away.

“Where are you going?”

“Just over here, I’ll be back in a minute,” you winked, disappearing into the crowded street. When did you ever wink? You were up to something, that’s for sure. Whatever it was, Bucky wasn’t going to let you down by failing the one task you gave him, so he started scouring the stalls near him for something that Clint’s kids would like.

Truth be told, he didn’t know much about the archer’s personal life. You had told him about the kids before, but it was usually when telling him a story about something funny they said at your weekly dinner with Natasha and the Barton’s.

Just like you promised, you were back in a few minutes holding a small bag. The brightness of your smile was like a beacon, easily dragging Bucky’s attention away from the pottery he was looking at.

“Look who it is, come here often?” he teased when you returned to your position at his side.

“Only with my best friend,” you quipped.

“What’s in the bag? Did you find something for the kids?”

“This is for you, actually.” You opened the bag gently, pulling out a pair of simple black sunglasses. “To protect your baby blues,” you said, opening them up and sliding them onto his face.

The lenses came to life, information right in front of his eyes. It wasn’t anything extreme, they definitely weren’t designed for combat and the interface itself was simple, but what he noticed most was the way the device fed him cultural context. In Wakanda, a culture completely different from his own, it was useful fun-fact type of way. Back home, he would be able to get context for twenty-first century things without having to ask anyone.

“If it’s too much you can just press here,” you took his hand in your own and guided his finger to the button on the side. The interface went dark, leaving the glasses to function just like any old pair.

“Thank you,” he pulled you into a hug, unable to think of anything else to say that would express his appreciation.

“I’m glad you like them, Shuri told me about them yesterday and I thought it would be a great surprise.”

“They’re perfect, sweets. Now it’s my turn to surprise you.” He kept his arm around your shoulders and started steering you down the street.

“Did you actually find something for the kids? Because that was really just a rouse to keep you distracted, I got these really neat gadgets for Cooper and Lila, and a little toy for Nathaniel,” you glanced up at him from under his arm, trying to read his expression.

He couldn’t contain the dumb grin on his face as he recalled the similarities between the pair of you and a scene from the stupid vampire movie he had watched with you so many months ago.

His surprise and your final destination for the day was his favorite spot to watch the sunset.

“This is incredible,” you said softly as the orange illuminated your features.

“I told you.”

“You know what would make it better?” you asked, standing up and brushing the dirt from your pants.

“What?” he had no idea where you were going with this. You pulled out your phone and tapped the screen a couple of times, then dropped it gently in the grass as the first notes of an older song began to play from its speakers.

“Will you teach me how to dance, Sergeant?” you held your hand out.

It was an easy decision to accept your offer and pull you closer to him. He gently encouraged you to move with him, a slow and simple sway.

For once, you weren’t your normal chatterbox of conversation. It occurred to him that he could tell you now that he was hopelessly in love with you. It was the perfect moment, all things considered. You were away from the compound for something other than a mission and he was holding you in his arms, not to mention the gorgeous landscape surrounding the two of you.

“(y/n),” he started. You shifted so you could look at him better, gaze soft. “You are one of the best people I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

“Second only to Steve, right?” you giggled. He smiled softly, letting the grin from your joke tug at his lips.

“Shut up, I’m being serious.”

“Oh, right. Sorry, continue,” you bit your lip, trying to contain your own smile. Your efforts only caused the two of you to be overcome by giggles as you stared into each other’s eyes. It was hard for Bucky to find the words to tell you how desperately in love with you he was when he all he could think about was how damn happy you made him.

“I, um, I need you to know that, um,” his nervous stuttering was interrupted by the way your head turned quickly to the path through the trees behind you, body tensing.

“Hang on, someone’s coming.” Bucky listened intently, picking up on the signs you had noticed. Hard dirt crunching under a set of feet, no- two. You both waited silently, arms stiff but still holding each other.

Your bodies relaxed when King T’Challa and Shuri emerged from the forested trail, expressions dim. You stepped away from Bucky, but kept your fingers interlocked.

“I am sorry to interrupt you, but a war is coming to Wakanda along with your friends and we’ll need all the help we can get.” T’Challa said.

“When?”

“Tomorrow morning,” Shuri revealed.

Your face set, eyes narrowing, “we’ll be there.”

“I wasn’t able to finish all of the gear for you, but I do have these.” She handed you a pair of shoes, not unlike the sneakers you typically wore.

“Thank you.”

The pair informed you of the cause of the impending danger, then left. You stood in silence, gathering your thoughts. When you finally moved again, it was dark. Still holding Bucky’s hand, you walked back to where your phone was and paused the music, then sat down on the grass. He sat next to you.

“It’s a big ol’ universe out there, isn’t it?” you asked, leaning back to lay down and stare up at the starry sky.

“Makes me feel small,” Bucky confessed, laying back as well.

“Small? Hmm, interesting.”

“What?”

“It makes me feel big.” He waited for you to elaborate. “Whatever cosmic powers created the universe and everything in it decided this world needed one of me too. It’s a very important job, being the only me in this universe.”

Bucky hadn’t even considered that possibility, but as soon as you said it he could see why it was the perspective you had chosen. You had mentioned offhandedly to him before how you thought everyone was important, but he had never asked where that belief had stemmed from.

You never ceased to amaze him.

…

He could tell you were jittery when the sun came up. You were readying yourself for a war, something he was no stranger to. He tried his best to stay calm, hoping his energy would direct you into a productive mindset. You were wearing the shoes Shuri had given you, pressed firmly into the dirt. From his understanding, the soles were designed to be porous, giving you access to the world underneath your feet.

It was easy for him to picture how you would have received them had you not been facing an alien invasion. You would have been skipping around outside, frolicking in the grass. Bucky would have let you practice combat against him just to hear you laugh when he tripped over a tangle of plants you had produced.

Instead of your normal pension for goofing off, you were pacing. Bucky resorted to perching on a rock as you bore a path into the grass underneath you. The waiting was killing him too.

You seemed relieved when the gang of Avengers showed up, hugging Natasha once she stepped off the jet.

“How was your vacation?” Natasha asked you once you were all waiting for the battle.

“It’s been amazing, I can’t wait to tell you about it after we’re done with this mess,” you said, facing the field in front of you, “are we really about to fight aliens?”

“Yeah,” Steve answered.

“Damn,” you whispered.

Natasha shot you a look, “alright, who taught you how to swear?”

“Steve,” you deadpanned without hesitation, eyes still watching the border. Bucky had to contain his laughter, it was not really the time to be joking and yet your charm had broken through yet again.

He knew you would be able to hold your own in the battle, you were one of the best agents SHIELD had ever seen. He worried more about the toll war was going to take on you. He had spent his whole life fighting in wars by no choice of his own. He knew what it looked like, what it felt like to participate in a conflict this big, and what damage it did to one’s psyche. Losing you physically was a dangerous game that you played every time you went on a mission, Bucky had long ago come to terms with that. Losing you mentally was something he wasn’t sure he was prepared for.

You protested when Natasha went with Steve and T’Challa to speak with the intruders, wanting to go with her yourself.

“Absolutely not. You’re staying here with Barnes.”

“Bucky has all of Wakanda right here, he’s very safe. You’ll only have Steve and King T’Challa. I want to help, I’m coming with you.”

“The barrier will keep us safe, you’re not going down there with us. I know you can handle yourself,” she cut you off when you opened your mouth again, “I trained you, remember? Just stay here for me, please?”

You thought hard for a minute, then sighed, “fine. But only because I love you.”

“I love you too,” the spy touched your shoulder briefly before walking away with the two men. When they came back you didn’t say anything, but moved to stand at Natasha’s side. As T’Challa discussed opening the barrier, Bucky stole a glance at you. You caught his eyes with your own, sincere expression morphing into your classic ‘I’m okay’ smile before you focused back on the approaching enemies.

Bucky had seen a lot of shit during his many, many years of life, but this war was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was hard to keep an eye on you during the fight with so much chaos around, but he knew you were still alive by the way the grass under his feet moved. Enemies in front of him would fall when grass twisted around their ankles, locking them in place so he could put a bullet or knife blade into them.

He finally laid eyes on you in the jungle when Thanos arrived. Your brow was furrowed in concentration, more focused than Bucky had ever seen you. As Thanos stalked towards Vision, vines whipped off of trees and into his path. The giant purple man broke them easily and with a wave of his hand had knocked you aside. Bucky charged and was pushed away just as easily, landing a few feet away from you.

He retained consciousness, but you weren’t so lucky. Careful not to draw attention to himself, he moved you towards a patch of ferns. The fronds rustled around you, shielding your body. You blinked a few times as you woke up. Bucky pressed a finger to your lips, the jungle was oddly silent.

“I’m going to find Steve,” he whispered, standing up. You nodded, still out of it, but as he walked back towards where Steve had been he noticed the way the plants in his path moved with him.

The plants stilled right before he turned to dust.

…

Despite the fuzziness of his brain when he came to, he stumbled through the crowd of people until he was at your side.

“You okay?” you coughed out once he was close.

“Better now,” he reached out his hand, a fleeting touch against your own before returning to the throws of war. This time, there were no plants to bend at your will, so he had to just assume your safety while the gauntlet was tossed around.

Once the dust had finally settled, the Avengers started regrouping. Tony was dead, though thanks to his sacrifice that seemed to be the only major casualty. Bucky found you as quickly as he could, stopping next to Steve when he saw you talking heatedly with Barton.

“Where’s Nat?”

“It’s a long story,” even from afar, Bucky could tell that the archer was trying to save you from the whole explanation until your adrenaline had calmed down a little.

“I’ve got the time.” He had never seen you be so short with the other man, usually your conversations with Nat and Clint were patient and full of love. They were the closest thing to family you had ever had and you tried harder than necessary not to lose them.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then enlighten me. What did I miss? Where is Nat?”

“(y/n), she was fighting so hard to get you back. I gave up, but she never did.”

“Why are you talking about her in the past tense? I’m only going to ask you one more time, Barton. Where. Is. Nat?” You shifted your feet and Bucky noticed the way the soil underneath you moved, bulging and cracking.

“We had to go to Vormir to get the soul stone. When we got there, there was a guy.”

“A guy?” your fists clenched. The ground rumbled.

“A guy,” Clint repeated, “he told us what we had to do to get the stone. A soul for a soul.”

You froze in your movements as you processed what he had said. Your voice was hoarse when you spoke next, as if you had to force the words out of your throat, “you let her die.”

“I tried to stop her, it should have been me,” Clint put his hands up and started backing away, spouting everything he could think of to calm you down. Your feet burrowed into the soil. In a split second, hundreds of trees grew up from the ground around Clint, entangling him in their branches. Steve took a step forward in an attempt to help, but was knocked aside by another branch with just a twist of your hand. The other Avengers, following Steve’s lead, started trying to fight back. You knocked them aside just as easily. It was like you weren’t even thinking about it, reminding Bucky of the way you would mindlessly swat flies away when walking around the compound grounds with him. His teammates’ eyes held fear at your power, but all Bucky saw was was your strength. He was in awe of the way you commanded your own space. It was enlightening, beautiful, powerful, and it was hurting your friends.

The trees continued growing around you. He had never seen such an expanse of plant matter in his life. Trunks were twisting around you and Barton, separating you from the desolate battlefield.

“You killed her.” Bucky could just barely hear you over the creaking of wood and rustling of leaves.

“Buck,” Steve called in warning, still fighting off the branch you had created to stop him. He couldn’t let you kill Clint, and that was exactly the direction you were heading, so he willed himself forward and into the chaos. You started flinging branches his way, but Bucky wouldn’t let you swat him away like everyone else. He tried his best not to destroy any branches, unsure if damage to the plants would hurt you. Instead he ducked and dodged out of the way as best as he could. He had always known your powers were strong, but even he couldn’t have predicted you to be capable of this. He kept fighting his way towards you, using his metal arm to force branches and trunks to move. He felt the sting of impact on his face, his back, his shoulders as he pushed forward. He wouldn’t quit until he made it to you, he couldn’t quit until he made it to you.

He finally caught a glimpse of you, tears streaming down your face though your expression was still. Your feet moved ever so slightly in tandem with your wrists as you brought more and more plant life up to the surface. You had your own personal bubble, protecting you from the disaster surrounding you. Barton was on the other side of the circle, being squeezed and stretched and ultimately trapped by your wrath. He was still trying to talk you down, though his eyes met Bucky’s in a silent plea.

With one last surge, Bucky broke into your space and grabbed you as tightly as he could, arms wrapping around you. You thrashed against him, he only held you tighter. He spoke in your ear, barely above a whisper.

“It’s me, sweets. Can you hear me?”

A sob escaped your lips. The forest still stormed around you.

“Breathe for me, sweets. I need you to breathe.”

Against his own advice Bucky held his breath, waiting.

As soon as your chest moved, the swirling of the forest stopped. It was silent.

“There we go. You need to let Barton go before you hurt him. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if something happened to him. He’s your family too.”

“He killed her,” your voice was small and shaky, nothing like the (y/n) Bucky had grown so fond of.

“He tried to save her, sweets. He was going to sacrifice himself so she could live.”

“He should have tried harder,” you clenched your jaw and Bucky could feel your muscles tense under his grip. The forest surrounding you started to rustle.

“Hey, sweets. Look at me. Look at me.”

As soon as your watery eyes hit his, you broke. As sobs shook your body, you fell against his chest. He supported your weight easily, lifting you up into his arms. He held you against him as your feet left the ground. There was the faint sound of snapping as the roots that had taken hold from the bottoms of your feet tore. You cried out at the action, confirming Bucky’s theory that you were physically connected to the plants in more ways than one. Trees started disintegrating, returning to the earth like an accelerated form of decomposition and leaving only fluffy soil in their wake.

Bucky could faintly hear Steve talking to Clint, just background noise like a staticky TV, but all he cared about was making sure you were ok. He didn’t have anywhere to take you, the compound that had been your home for so long was destroyed, but he started walking anyways.

He didn’t stop until he was deep into the forest, finally finding a soft patch of soil to place you down in. Deep circles had set in under your closed eyes, and Bucky would have thought you to be asleep had you not leaned into him once he was sitting next to you.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

“Of course, sweets.”

Bucky had spent plenty of time early on in your friendship worrying about what would happen if he slipped back into his past, if Shuri hadn’t been able to get Hydra all the way out of his head. He worried that you wouldn’t want to be around him, that he’d lose you. It wasn’t until he became so familiar with your gentleness and wit that he realized you wouldn’t leave if he was slipping, you’d give him something to hold on to.

He couldn’t abandon you now. He had to give you something to hold on to.

…

He held you throughout the night, not sleeping at all in order to protect you while you were so vulnerable. When you woke, you seemed like a shell of yourself, turned so far inward that Bucky feared you might not come out of it. You didn’t speak, just gently patted his arm as you stepped out of his embrace and into a beam of sunlight that had made its way through the canopy.

You closed your eyes and tilted your face up, soaking in the warmth. Bucky didn’t know exactly what you were doing, but you looked magical doing it so he just stayed put and watched you. After you had stood there long enough to have to turn with the sun, you opened your eyes and found Bucky again. Without saying anything, you stepped up to the closest tree and ran your hand along the trunk. It bent at your will, forming half of an arch and staying put when your hand moved away.

You did this for several more trees, forming a domed shelter out of living trees around where Bucky was sitting. It was an incredible use of your power that he suspected was a new revelation. Once the shelter was done, you got to work foraging. Even though his eyes never left you, he couldn’t tell if you were conjuring an abundance of edible plants or if they were already there. Whatever the answer, he couldn’t have possibly felt hungry after the amount you collected.

You found another sunbeam, settling into the dirt with your legs criss crossed and your arms out. Your eyes closed, so Bucky gave himself permission to stand. He poked around the area, finally finding what he was looking for. There was a small stream just to the left of the shelter you had created. He tore some of the fabric of his shirt off, soaking the cotton into the clear water.

He walked back over to you, crouching down next to you, “can I help you clean up from the battle?”

You nodded slowly, corners of your lips turning up in a small smile as he ran the moistened fabric over your skin. He did his best to wash away the dirt that had accumulated on your face and arms, then rinsed the rag and did the same to himself.

Once it was starting to get dark, Bucky retreated to the shelter you had made. You lingered at the doorframe, one hand on the tree trunk as you gazed up at the sky.

“It’s going to rain later,” you said simply. He chose not to ask how you knew, you still weren’t mentally all the way present with him and he didn’t know if you even wanted a response. It was the first thing you had said all day, though, which meant you were healing.

“Will you try to get some sleep?” he asked as he settled onto the floor. You left your spot by the door and nestled in next to him, inviting him to hold you. It was exactly the action Bucky had hoped for when he had laid down, but your words contradicted your movements.

“I don’t need to.”

“Are you sure?”

“The sunlight gave me everything I need to produce energy. You should sleep though.”

Bucky stared at you for a minute, wondering if it was possible for you to be more plant than human, then pulled you closer into him. “Fine. Just don’t turn into a tree or anything while I’m out, ok?”

“I’m not going to turn into a tree,” you chuckled, “I’ll be right here the whole time.”

He took your word for it, but when he woke to the sound of rain it was dark and his arms were empty. He stood slowly, making his way to the door of the shelter. His enhanced abilities allowed him to see you standing in the dark, soaking wet.

“Sweets,” he called softly, though he was almost certain you knew he was awake, “is everything alright?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, eyes closed, “it feels nice. Like drinking a glass of ice water.”

He watched you hold your arms out, catching raindrops. Your hair was plastered against your skin, as were your clothes, but you didn’t seem to be bothered by it. When the rain finally let up, you opened your eyes and walked back to the shelter with a grin, standing straighter than he had ever seen you.

“Did you always know you could do this stuff?” he asked once you were sitting next to where he had laid back down. You had his flesh hand in yours, damp fingers tracing over the lines on his palm in the dark.

“No, but I think Nat did.”

It was the first time you had mentioned Natasha since finding out she had died. Bucky gave you the space to elaborate, staying silent.

“She was always asking me to think harder about my connections, to really focus on what they were telling me and try to manipulate it. Every time I tried it never went very far. I could only move the small stuff, and never make anything grow more than it already had. With training I was able to start encouraging growth, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t get anything bigger than a fern to do what I wanted. Even when we were in Wakanda fighting Thanos… I tried so hard to move the trees and give Wanda more time, but I couldn’t do it.” Even in the dark Bucky could see the way your eyes were welling up. He hadn’t realized that’s what you were trying to do.

“So when it worked you weren’t thinking about it?”

“Exactly. All I was thinking about was how mad I was at Clint. Now I just have to ask and the plants listen, no matter how big they are.” You paused. “When Nat rescued me she had to convince Clint to take me with them. I wasn’t part of the original mission. Nat had this complex about ‘owing it to Fury and Clint’ to recruit someone since Clint recruited her, and she picked me. Clint didn’t think I’d be a good fit, and honestly I agreed with him. When he recruited Nat she was already a trained spy, just for the wrong team. I was essentially useless. They argued for a while about whether or not to leave me behind.”

“What changed his mind?” Bucky had previously heard the story of how Natasha and Clint had broken you out of the confines of the lab you once called home, but you had never shared this part with him.

“Nat said I had something called learned helplessness. When I was in the lab it took less energy to let them run their tests than it would to use my abilities for fighting back. She said I had untapped potential and the right environment could strengthen my powers into something useful to humanity. Now that I’ve finally flexed them all the way… It’s like when your ears pop while flying and you can finally hear everything clearly. It seems a little ironic, that I’d figure my powers out as soon as she’s gone, as soon as it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“You said it yourself, she knew you had it in you.”

“I just don’t know why she had to die for it to happen,” you whispered, squeezing his hand tighter.

It was a little bizarre, playing house in the middle of the forest like this when Bucky knew there was plenty of aftermath from the war he should be helping with, but you were and would always be his first priority. It was the first time since he had stopped being the Winter Soldier that he had been so focused on one goal and one goal only.

You spent the next few days quietly exploring your new abilities. You weren’t your normal outgoing self, though every day you spoke more and more. Bucky made himself as soft as possible, giving you something to find comfort in as you discovered and healed. You were lounging on a patch of grass with him eating wild strawberries on day three when your head snapped up, toes digging further into the soil.

“Something’s coming.”

“I got it.” Bucky had absolutely no idea what it was, or how you knew, but he didn’t want you to feel like you had to protect yourself. You needed this space to heal, not to fight. He stood, positioning himself protectively in front of you.

Thankfully, it was only Redwing, speaking in Sam’s voice.

“Tony’s funeral is tomorrow, Steve wanted you to know.”

“Thanks, Sam. Did you hear that, sweets?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Sam.” You didn’t move from your spot in the grass, rolling a strawberry between your fingertips.

“Have you guys been living here this whole time? Damn, this is cool.” Sam’s voice chirped from Redwing.

“Go away before I smash your pet, Wilson.”

“His name is Redwing-” the robot sped away as soon as Bucky’s metal punch was thrown.

Bucky returned to you slowly, reaching out to take one of your hands with his own. “We should go to the funeral,” you said quietly as he settled beside you.

“Are you sure?” Half of him wanted to stay here in this eden you had created together. You nodded, bringing your joined hands up to your lips so you could kiss his skin.

“I’m sure.”

You stood between him and Wanda at the funeral, and it was like the four days in the forest had never happened. You interacted with everyone like normal, though they were still tiptoeing around you. More than once, an Avenger glanced at Bucky after talking with you with the same fear in their eyes that he had seen when they were fighting off your forest a few days prior.

You didn’t leave his side until after the ceremony, wandering with Wanda down to the edge of the lake where Clint was standing. The three of you talked for a few minutes before Wanda walked away, leaving you alone with the archer.

“You trust her with him?” Steve appeared at Bucky’s side, more inquisitive than accusatory.

“She trusts herself with him, and I trust her.” Bucky’s eyes didn’t leave you, reading every bit of body language he could.

“She almost killed him.”

“I almost killed you but you still kept me around. She’s less emotional than she was before, it’s a little unsettling if I’m being completely honest.”

Bucky was a bit surprised that Steve wasn’t giving you the benefit of the doubt. He had known you longer than Bucky had, he should have seen the way you were just now getting back to your normal self.

“Are you going back to the woods, then?”

Bucky rocked back on his heels, watching you rest your head on Clint’s shoulder, “it’s her decision. I’m following her lead.”

He wasn’t surprised when Steve stayed in the past after returning the stones. He wasn’t surprised when Steve gave Sam the shield. He wasn’t surprised when you told him an old SHIELD contact had set you up with an apartment across the city.

He helped you move in.

“Call me if you need me. Alright, sweets?”

“You call me if you need me,” you echoed as he stepped out the door. He stayed awake the entire night in his own apartment, waiting for his phone to ring.

You never called.

…

He spent many nights with his thumb hovering over the green ‘call’ button on his phone, wishing he was on the roof of the compound with you instead of being haunted by his own memories while he was asleep. He never followed through even though he so badly wanted to hear your voice.

“Something’s on your mind, James.”

“It’s nothing.”

Dr. Raynor gave him a pointed look, picking up her notebook, “it can’t be nothing if it’s bothering you so much.”

He sighed, accepting defeat, “it’s my friend.”

“Steve? Sam?”

“No, (y/n). We lived together in the compound. She has an apartment in the city but I haven’t heard from her since things went back to normal.”

“Have you reached out? Communication is a two way street.”

Bucky paused. She had said it as if he hadn’t spent every day thinking about calling you, as if he hadn’t been wallowing in his own cowardice.

“She won’t want to talk to me.”

“Why not?”

“The blip… it changed things between us. Her best friend died. The only life she’s known is the one where she was held against her will and the one Romanoff helped her make. I was a part of that new life, and now it’s all gone.”

“Did you make the choice to stay away, or did she tell you to?”

“I did. She started her life over, I didn’t want to remind her of everything that she lost,” Bucky grumbled. All it took was a raise of Dr. Raynor’s eyebrows for him to give in, “ok, fine. I’ll go visit her.” The doctor’s lips turned up in a triumphant smile.

“That’ll be your homework, then. I look forward to hearing about it next week.”

Bucky stopped at a flower stand on his way from the office to your apartment. You preferred trees to flowers, but he couldn’t exactly show up at your front door with a whole tree. He lingered outside of your building for a while, almost chickening out three times before he finally crossed the threshold. He ascended the stairs, walking slower down your hallway when he heard a second voice on the other side of your front door. The voice was female, with a distinct Russian accent.

Though the scientists that held you weren’t Russian, Bucky still feared the worst. He dropped the flowers and brandished the knife he had stored inside his jacket. He knocked twice, then pressed himself along the wall and waited for the door to open.

“What the hell, Bucky?” his press forward was stopped when you very casually opened the door. He lowered his weapon, watching your eyes carefully for any indication for what was going on. “Come inside before I get evicted for having friends with knives in the hallway,” you opened the door wider, grabbing his jacket and pulling him inside.

The first thing Bucky noticed about your apartment was how much homier it seemed since his last visit. Your bedroom door was open, giving him a glimpse of your full bookshelves and pile of quilts that adorned your bed. There was a blonde woman sitting at the table in the kitchen, presumably the owner of the voice he had heard while out in the hall.

“Who is this guy?” she asked nonchalantly, swirling ice around in the glass she was holding.

“Yelena, this is Bucky. Bucky, this is Yelena, Nat’s sister.”

“Hello,” Yelena chirped, leaning back in her chair.

“I didn’t know Romanoff had a sister.”

“You didn’t know a lot about her,” Yelena was quick in her response, thrown harshly in Bucky’s direction.

“Relax, he’s not one of them. Bucky’s like us.” You lifted yourself up onto the counter, leaving Bucky as the only one standing in your tiny kitchen. He shifted his weight awkwardly, still unsure of what was happening. What did you mean by ‘like us’? Blipped? Held captive by deranged scientists for most of your life? Part of a found family that was promptly ripped apart? Whatever it was, Yelena nodded in understanding and tipped back the rest of whatever was in her glass.

“Maybe you should use that knife to cut the tension between you two,” she pointed at you and Bucky as she stood, “I’ll see you tomorrow, (y/n).”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” your eyes didn’t leave Bucky’s as she showed herself out. Once you were alone, Bucky didn’t know what to say. He had done what his therapist had asked. He had visited you, and he was starting to feel like it was a mistake.

“I’m sorry, I should go.”

“Wait! Bucky,” you hopped off the counter and grabbed his wrist before he could get any closer to your front door. “I’m really glad you’re here. I’ve… I’ve missed you.”

The coolness of your palm was against his skin, humanizing you both. You noticed it at the same time he did, quickly retracting your arm and casting your gaze down to the ground. The only thought in Bucky’s mind was how much he had missed your touch when his hand found your elbow, pulling you into a hug.

“I’ve missed you too, sweets.”

“Why didn’t you call?” your voice was muffled from being pressed into his jacket, but there was no way either one of you was loosening your grip on the other.

“Why didn’t you call?”

“I asked first.”

“I thought you would want a fresh start, not be reminded of the past.” Your laugh surprised him enough that this time he did pull back, wanting to read your expression better.

“That’s exactly why I didn’t call you.”

“Well aren’t we just a couple of idiots?” He joined your laughter, holding you impossibly tighter.

“This idiot has ice cream in her freezer, do you want some?”

It wasn’t until you were both settled on the couch with a carton of ice cream tucked between you just like old times that Bucky remembered the gift he had brought. “I had flowers for you, I must have dropped them in the hallway.”

“No use looking for them now. I bet Yelena took them on her way out,” you smirked.

“What’s her deal, anyways?”

“She’s working on a mission and asked for my help.”

“You’re still going on missions?”

“No, this one is just… special.” Bucky chose to stay silent, letting you explain further if you wanted to. “She’s looking for Clint. She thinks he’s responsible for what happened to Nat. I don’t blame her, really, I thought so too at first.”

“I was there,” Bucky reminded you.

“Exactly. It wasn’t really Clint’s fault though. I’m just trying to convince Yelena of that before she finds him. She was following leads on Clint and Nat’s contacts when she found me. She hasn’t said it out loud yet, but she thinks I know where he is.”

“Do you?”

You hesitated, “I have a few ideas. Yelena thinks he’s in hiding because of guilt, but if I’m right he’s not even in hiding, really. He’s just protecting his family because he lost them for five years. I’d do the same if I were in his shoes.”

“So why not give her a false lead and move on?”

“She’s good, Bucky. She’s good at what she does and if she didn’t figure out I was bluffing right away, she would eventually and then I’m in danger.” You paused. “And I think she’s good on the inside too. She reminds me so much of Nat, in a really obscure also-the-opposite-of-Nat way. If I can just convince her that it wasn’t Clint’s fault then maybe it’ll almost be like having my family back.”

“So you’re hanging around with an assassin because you think they’re good? Sounds a little familiar.”

“Hey, it worked with you, didn’t it? Go big or go home,” you shrugged.

“Worked a little too well,” he smirked, disregarding the ice cream so he could throw his flesh arm around your shoulder and pull you closer into his side. Every part of you was as intoxicating as he remembered, and merely sitting beside you wasn’t enough to satiate his need for closeness to you after so many months apart.

“Does this mean we can start hanging out again?”

He couldn’t possibly say no.

Thursday night dinners quickly turned into Tuesday and Thursday night dinners, which was then added onto by Monday breakfasts, Wednesday lunches with Yori, and Friday drinks. It was so easy to slip back into the comfort of your company that eventually Bucky was stopping by your apartment almost every day for one reason or another. Although he deliberately made sure you mostly spent time together at your apartment, you still managed to charm him into letting you go home with him after tagging along while he shopped for groceries one afternoon.

“Just say it,” he said when your normal stream of chatter quieted after you entered his small home.

“Hmm?” your head snapped up, “there’s nothing to say.”

“Of course there’s something to say. You always have something to say. What’s in that head of yours?” He was opening himself up to a whole realm of criticisms. His apartment was nothing special and he had done very little to make it habitable over the last few months. You physically squirmed as you debated whether or not you actually wanted to share with him what you thought about his apartment.

“You don’t have a bed, Bucky.”

The way you said it wasn’t pitiful or judgmental in any way. It was pure concern for your friend that he didn’t have a comfortable place to sleep.

“Don’t need one.” He went back to putting his few groceries away.

“Are you still having nightmares?” You stepped closer to him, eyebrows furrowed. Instinctively he wanted to lie and say no, not burden you with his ever present turmoils, but your words from what seemed like eons ago echoed in his head. You don’t have to tell me, but please don’t lie to me.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Hmmm,” you hummed again, “I just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself, you know?” You leaned up against the counter next to him.

“I am taking care of myself.”

“If you say so.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he bumped into you playfully, his heart swelling when it sparked the fire behind your eyes.

“It means I trust you to make good decisions for your welfare,” you smirked.

A few nights later, when he jolted awake after another haunting dream, his hand grabbed at his phone like it had so many times before. This time, instead of pausing over the green button, he remembered the trust you had in him and actually made the call.

“‘ello?” you answered after a single ring. You sounded groggy, and Bucky’s stomach dropped thinking about how he had just woken you from what was probably a peaceful sleep just to drag you into his madness.

“Bucky?” you said after a few moments of silence, this time sounding more awake, “are you hurt? Where are you?”

As you fired off questions, he realized he didn’t know what he wanted to say to you, just that he needed to know that you were still real.

“I’m at home, I’m ok. Sorry… for waking you up.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s fine. Stay where you are, I’m coming over.”

“No, sweets, you don’t have to cross the city in the middle of the night-“

“Too late,” you interrupted, “I’m already on my way. Unlock your door for me, ok?”

“Ok,” Bucky sighed. He should have expected nothing less, honestly.

“I’ll see you soon.”

After hanging up with you, Bucky unlocked his door and then settled back under the few blankets on his floor. He was beyond exhausted, but forced himself to stay awake until he heard you knock gently before turning the knob and letting yourself in.

“Hey,” you whispered quietly, sinking down next to him gently.

“Hey,” he whispered back, unable to stop himself from resting his head on your shoulder. You moved your hand to trace shapes onto his bare back with your finger, giving him something to focus on. It only took a few letters for him to realize you were writing the scientific names of your favorite plants. He could feel his muscles relaxing with every brush of your fingertip.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked carefully once your hand stopped moving. He shook his head. You were being succinct in your questions, with good cause, but if you had just stopped to ask Bucky exactly what he wanted (and if he actually had the energy to put it into words) he’d have told you that he just wanted to curl up next to you in a bed that he didn’t have.

Your innate knowledge of him clued you mostly into his desires, gently laying back onto the floor with your arms still around him. You adjusted the blankets to cover you both before returning your arms to wrap around his torso.

“It’s ok to sleep now, I’ve got you.”

“Thanks, sweets,” he whispered into the darkness.

“Of course. I’ve got you,” you repeated.

It was the first time in a long while that he had a dreamless sleep. He woke feeling refreshed and ready to share the day with you, but you were gone. There was a note on his counter that you had scribbled about coffee doing you both good. When you returned, steaming to-go cups in hand, it was like the previous night had never happened.

You were only waiting for him to take the initiative to talk about it with you, that he was sure of, but he didn’t want to break the spell of normalcy that had been restored for your relationship.

Though the foundation of your friendship would never change, Bucky appreciated being able to spend time with you away from the supernatural. There wasn’t any large scale world-saving to be done besides your complicated relationship with Yelena and Bucky’s quest to make amends, so you could just exist in each other’s presence in a way you hadn’t been able to ever do. Bucky never would have guessed he’d be the one to break the tranquility, until he saw them announcing a new Captain America on your TV.

“What the hell?” he shot up from where he had been lounging in your lap when he saw the news report. You had been absentmindedly carding your fingers through his hair, a habit you had picked up after commenting about how different it was from the long hair he had sported during his time at the compound.

“What’s- oh, what the hell?” you echoed once you had caught on to his distress, though your tone was one of exasperation rather than Bucky’s frustration, “someone should probably go talk to Sam about that.”

“Someone?” Even through his immediate anger, he couldn’t help but crack a smile at the passive way you had totally just volunteered him for the job.

“Well this someone,” you pointed to yourself, “is busy simultaneously hunting for and hiding her best friend and his family. I don’t really have the time to deal with Sam and whatever idiotic fallout is going to happen from this John Walker guy, but someone,” you pointed to him, “does.”

“As always, you make a good point,” he stood up, looking around for his jacket. Once he had it in hand he strode to the door, but paused when his hand was on your doorknob. There was nothing he wanted to do more than tell you he loved you before he left, a casual ‘see you later’ kind of reminder, but he refused to let that be the way that he told you. It occurred to him as he stood there that the perfect moment he had been waiting for might not exist. Wakanda five years ago would have been a better setting, but if spending the day lounging on your couch just enjoying each others presence didn’t scream ‘(y/n) and Bucky’, he didn’t know what did. There was no telling how long convincing Sam to take back the shield would take, it was a now or never type of moment.

“Is there something wrong? I can go if you don’t want to,” you stood, grabbing your own jacket.

“No, I’ll go.”

You tilted your head in concern, eyes scanning his in an attempt to read him. You were so good at knowing what was going on in his head that he was a little surprised you hadn’t figured it out yourself.

“Hey,” your voice softened, “talk to me. What’s going on?”

He couldn’t lose you again.

“I love you. Actually, I’ve been in love with you since Stark had that stupid gala, the one where you found me on the roof just to show me the food coloring in your fingers. I’ve been in love with you since then, which is a long time not even including the five years we both didn’t exist. I’m not going to go involve myself in whatever disaster Sam has created without you knowing that you’re my favorite person in the universe, just in case.”

“Oh, Bucky,” you sighed, a smile creeping up on your lips, “I know that you love me. I thought it was obvious I love you too.”

“What?”

You cocked your head, still grinning, “you didn’t have to say it for me to know. Your actions spoke much louder than words could have. There’s a just a difference between loving someone and being in love with someone, and I was terrified I was reading our relationship completely wrong. I thought about telling you I was in love with you while we were living at the compound, but I didn’t want to lose you because of it. I’m sorry.”

Bucky couldn’t believe you had just apologized to him about a lack of communication about your feelings. “You don’t need to apologize, sweets, I understand. Are you sure this is something you still want? I’m still not in the best standing with the government and your reputation could suffer because of it.”

You didn’t even hesitate to process his words. “What happens to my reputation is my own choice,” you scoffed, “and I will absolutely fight anyone who says otherwise-” you froze when he dropped his jacket and his hands found your waist, pulling you closer to him. His eyes flickered between your own and your lips, watching your cheeks flush as he did so.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Would you stop asking stupid questions? Seriously, Bucky-” your breath hitched when he tightened his grip an infinitesimal amount. Your grasp on your jacket loosened, the garment piling on the floor when your hands flew to his elbows instinctively.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked again. This time you nodded, whispering a tiny ‘please’, and that was all the permission he needed to capture your lips with his own.

He had kissed you plenty of times before, but it had always been chaste, platonic moments of affection where his lips graced your forehead, cheek, hands, and on one occasion your knee after you tripped while goofing off with him around the compound. Kissing you now, feeling your soft lips on his with full romantic intentions, was everything at one point in his life he didn’t feel he deserved.

“How am I supposed to leave now?” he muttered, pressing his forehead into yours. Your fingertips found purchase in the hair just above the back of his neck.

“I doubt you’ll be gone long. Just tell Sam he screwed up and that he needs to take the shield back. It should be easy, and we’ll be back to doing this,” you paused to kiss him again, “in no time.”

You could not have been more wrong.

…

Bucky tried his best to keep you updated while he was gone, to reassure you that he was still alive and planning to come home to you as soon as the Flagsmashers were taken care of, but it got increasingly difficult once Zemo was broken out of prison and they were in hiding. He was able to get one phone call in while on the flight to Madripoor, possibly the only thing that kept him sane.

“Hey, are you on your way home? I forgot to get taco shells when I was at the store and we can’t have taco Tuesday without them. Can you pick some up before you get here?”

“Sorry sweets, I’m not going to make it home for dinner tonight.”

Zemo raised an eyebrow at Bucky’s pet name for you, but looked away quickly when Bucky glared back.

“Is Sam still being an ass? Give him the phone I’ll put him-“

“No, Sam’s not the problem. Things got a little dicey and now we’re heading to Madripoor with Zemo.”

“Zemo? The same Zemo that killed King T’Chaka and framed you for it? I thought he was in jail.”

“Yeah, he was, but he’s the one who has the lead we needed so now he’s out.”

“And you’re going to Madripoor.”

“Yup.”

You sighed on the other end of the line before speaking again, “something is bothering you about this plan. What is it?”

How you were able to get inside his head from so far away was lost to him, “Zemo wants us to be disguised when we go meet his contacts. He wants me to be disguised as the Winter Soldier.”

“And you’re afraid that playing the Winter Soldier will bring back the Winter Soldier in your head.” It wasn’t a question, you were just somehow in his brain again, putting words together more coherently than he would have been able to.

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” you said, gathering your thoughts, “listen to me. You are not the same man that Hydra was controlling. I remember what you were like before Shuri got that stuff out of your head, and I remember what you were like when you first moved in to the compound. You have come so far, Bucky. Even if this takes you back a few steps, you’re still ahead of where you started. I promise.”

“You’re the best thing that’s happened to me since leaving Hydra, if I start losing myself…” he had never voiced this insecurity to you, though he had thought about it plenty. Since rekindling your friendship, he stood by his theory that you wouldn’t let him slip, but there wasn’t much you could do from halfway around the world.

You answered softly, but confident. Bucky suspected you had thought about this topic almost as much as he had. “I loved you then and I love you now. Nothing is going to change that. I’ll fly you to Wakanda myself if I have to, just come home in mostly one piece first.”

It was exactly the reassurance he needed to feel ok with going to Madripoor. “I’ll try my best,” his lips turned up in a small smile.

“Great. I’m leaving tomorrow to do a stakeout with Yelena so I might not be home when you get back but you can always call me if you need to. Even better, you could stop being stubborn about texting and we could talk even more frequently, old man.”

He chuckled at your teasing tone. Only you would be able to make him laugh when his head was the most stormy. “Stay safe, ok?” His words seemed futile considering the work you both were doing, but they needed to be said. He feared losing you to a mission more now than he did when you were living at the compound, though not because you couldn’t handle yourself.

“We’re way out of practice leaving each other for missions, huh? You stay safe too, handsome. Now can you give Sam the phone? I have some things I need to say to him.”

Bucky stood and handed the phone to the other man, “it’s for you.” As soon as the device was at Sam’s ear, he could hear your voice squawking through the speaker. Sam’s gaze flickered up to Bucky as he made small noises of acknowledgement to whatever it was you were saying.

“I understand,” he finally said after a few minutes without reprieve, “see you later, (y/n).” He closed Bucky’s phone, then handed it back to him. “Your girlfriend called me an asshat.”

“She does that,” Bucky shrugged, pocketing his phone. He chose not to comment about the range of emotions Sam went through as he realized that for the first time since knowing him, Bucky didn’t deny you being his girlfriend.

After a long, eventful, few weeks that included a trip to Louisiana to see Sam’s sister and nephews, Bucky finally was on his way home to you. Just the thought of being back in your company made Bucky happy, to the point that Sam kept teasing him about how much he was smiling all the way to your apartment.

“Why are you still here again?”

“Because (y/n)’s my friend too,” Sam said, almost too cheerily.

Bucky suspected it was actually because Sam didn’t believe that he had finally confessed his feelings to you, but instead of calling the other man out he just rolled his eyes and knocked on your apartment door. In barely three seconds the door was whipped open and your hands were on Bucky’s cheeks, pressing your lips firmly into his.

His arms wrapped around you in response, reveling in the feeling of your body against his. You smelled like strawberries and soil, an aroma that Bucky had very quickly associated with the feeling of home. He could already feel himself relaxing, wanting nothing more than to crash on your couch and drink a beer with you.

“Am I going to get a greeting like that?” Sam’s voice came from over Bucky’s shoulder.

“Hi Sam,” you humored him as you pulled back from Bucky, your bright eyes not looking away from the man holding you. Your hands stayed on his face, thumbs gently brushing across the stubble that had accumulated there as you scanned for any injury.

“I missed you, sweets.”

“I missed you more.”

“You guys are nasty.”

“Go away, Sam.” Bucky lifted you easily with his metal arm, taking the few steps into your apartment and kicking the door closed behind him.

“He just cares about you,” you teased once your feet were back on the ground.

“Well, he can care about me from out in the hallway. I have more important things to do than listen to him complain.”

“Like what?” you prompted, grinning.

“Like this,” Bucky kissed you over and over again, walking you backwards until you were pushed onto the couch. He easily held his weight over you, watching your expression carefully. Eyes wild, you reached up to trace the lines of his face as you both caught your breath.

“No more missions for a while, ok?”

“I’m on board with that. Did you figure things out with Barton?”

“It’s gotten a lot more complicated,” you sighed, fingers still brushing against his skin, “I’ll tell you about it later, ok? I’d rather just enjoy having you home first.”

“Anything you want, sweets.”

…

Bucky woke up to sunlight coming through your curtains. Your bare legs were tangled with his, the rest of your body thrown haphazardly across him in various places. It was something he would have no trouble getting used to, the feeling of your skin against his and the familiar weight of you pressing into him. He laid as still as possible, trying to drink in every detail of this moment as he could.

“Good morning,” you yawned, breaking the quiet but only adding to the peace Bucky was feeling.

“Morning, sweets,” Bucky pressed his lips to the top of your head, You shifted slightly, moving your hand up to lazily fidget with the dog tags hanging around his neck. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, gently holding you in your own personal bubble of calm. If he had the choice, he’d live the rest of his life with you as a normal couple- no missions, no powers, no nightmares. Given both of your circumstances that wasn’t completely possible, but to do anything remotely close to that, he realized, he’d have to make amends the way Sam had told him to in Louisiana. He couldn’t hide under the sheets with you without owning up to his actions if he wanted to make sure your relationship would last.

“You’re thinking,” you moved your hand to press your finger into the crease between his eyebrows. Slowly, your finger traced down the bridge of his nose and onto his lips. He kissed it gently.

“I do that sometimes.”

“Care to share?” Your hand went back to his dog tags. It was one of his favorite things about you, he decided in that moment, the way you never pressed him to talk about things he might not want to talk about and never judged him when he told you, no matter how horrific.

“I need to see Yori today. He deserves closure.”

You watched him extract himself from your embrace carefully, doing some thinking of your own as he gathered his clothing, “I’m really proud of you.”

How he managed to be loved by someone as pure and special as you was lost to him.

“Hey Bucky,” you called right before he left your bedroom, “loved you then, love you now.”

It was a reminder and a promise all in the same. A reminder that he was worthy of being loved no matter who he was in the past nor who he was in the present, and a promise that on all of the good and bad days you’d still be there loving him.

“Loved you then, love you now, sweets.”

darling, the moon is still the moon in all of its phases -isra al-thibeh | on becoming

SOUNDTRACK , TRACKLIST

#I too want to be friends with reader and also be reader #this is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written tbh #the love from y’all is incredible

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