Winter Soldier X Reader - Blog Posts

Saving Grace - b. barnes

pairing; winter soldier! bucky x gender neutral! reader

reblogs/feedback/likes are appreciated & encouraged. DO NOT repost/steal any of my works.

warnings; slight sweating, mention of a weapon/injury

word count; 1k+

summary; when you find yourself at the mercy of the infamous winter soldier, the only target that’s ever managed to outrun him, you still feel sorry for him. he’s an individual who has no free will of your own, you on the other hand, have free will. that’s what leads to you doing something you didn’t expect you would do.

links; Marvel Masterlist | Masterlist

© springismss - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

Chaos.

That's the only word you could describe everything you saw around you. Ruin, blazes, destruction. All of this because you were the latest mission of a long list of names for the male stood in front of you.

Your team stood scattered around, as he drew closer to you. An emotionless stare burning into you as you stood your ground not ready to give up just yet. The faint static in your earpiece was jumbled with a response from someone but you didn't care to listen.

Your body grew tired as you contemplated accepting your fate. You heard the stories for as long as you could remember. A male soldier who was the best at crossing off names. HYDRA's top weapon. The legendary Winter Soldier. You, like many, believed him to be a myth. A story made up to scare young kids into following the right path because they didn't want to end up the same way he did. Only he turned out not to be a myth, he was very much real.

"Hey, (y/n), come on! Get out of there!".

The sudden loudness made you jump slightly, your breath catching in your throat as you forgot how long you had it. The creaking of leather coming closer drew you out of your daze.

This was the day you were going to die. Sure, you had those thoughts many a time before but the people who tried to kill you in the past? This guy made them look like amateurs. At best, a child would do a better job than them.

Your eyes finally locked with the soldier's as you continued to stand your ground. Hands dropping to your sides as your weapon thudded on the concrete. You were tired. Tired of running. Tired of trying to convince yourself that this was all some crazy nightmare and you'd wake up soon.

"Fine, you win. I'm tired of this bullshit. I'm tired of running from you!".

Not once did the assassin react to your words. His gaze remained fixed on the target that had spent so long running from him. Once your name was crossed off, HYRDA would be pleased. You should have been one of the easiest for him to kill but somehow, you were the hardest one. Managing to escape his attempts to thwart you time again until he cornered you in some little city not too far from where he was told you resided. It would be over in a matter of seconds but those last few seconds to you would be the most painful you had ever felt in all of your existence.

Letting out a shaky breath you closed your eyes, enjoying the blackness before it became one of the last things your mind had seen. The assassin's kills were anything but painless, being able to rid the plant of your existence in seconds. You had your typical regrets of someone in your position. Of the life you never lived, of the life you'll never get to live. Maybe if you hadn't spent the past few months on the run, you would have lived your life to the fullest ready to accept this day. Now that it was here, you didn't want to leave.

"Just get it over with, Winter Soldier! I'm sure HYDRA will celebrate in some sick and twisted way when~".

Something caused you to look over the metal shoulder as your eyes tried to fixate on something happening. You couldn't quite make it out but yet, down in your gut, you didn't have the greatest feeling about it. Squinting you saw the faint glimmer of what your team called the best weapon in your grasp. From talking to the people who had managed to survive a shot from it, you found them to be in pain many months after. Some of the pain strong enough to make them want someone or something to finish the job off.

Piecing things together in your head, your eyes widened in horror as your legs began to move. A loud shot being fired was all you heard as you rushed forward, managing to push the assassin out of the way. The hot metal of the bullet fired piercing your shoulder as you landed with a grunt, your breathing rate increasing as you gripped the wound, hissing out at the contact. You don't know what made you move but something told you to save the soldier.

Judging by the look in his eyes, your reaction had taken him by just as much surprise as you.

Looking down, a small smile tugged at the corner of the sitting figure’s lips as they leaned over, placing a soft kiss upon the other's forehead. It had been a few years since that incident and they couldn't thank you enough for taking the first steps towards their freedom.

Sure, Bucky still had the arm given to him by HYDRA but he was planning on replacing it as soon as possible. The final piece of his horrible past as a ruthless killer. He didn't know why you had done what you had done but he was thankful. You may have been the only person to escape him for so long but maybe it was for that reason alone you had.

Cliché or not, you were his saving grace and he wasn't going to let you go anytime soon. Even if it killed him in the process.

Unsure - b. barnes

a/n; welcome to my first piece of writing! this is from ‘aphrodisia’ which is found on both Wattpad & ao3. hope you enjoy!

pairing; winter soldier! bucky x gender neutral! reader

reblogs/feedback/likes are appreciated & encouraged. DO NOT repost/steal any of my works.

warnings; n/a

word count; 352

prompt based; “Can I kiss you?“

"Can I kiss you?”.

Blinking in confusion for a moment, you tilted your head at the male in front of you as the words processed in your head. Had you heard right? Surely you hadn’t. Maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you. Humming out slightly, you held your hand out in front of you for him to take before stepping forward.

Keep reading

Unsure - b. barnes

a/n; welcome to my first piece of writing! this is from ‘aphrodisia’ which is found on both Wattpad & ao3. hope you enjoy!

pairing; winter soldier! bucky x gender neutral! reader

reblogs/feedback/likes are appreciated & encouraged. DO NOT repost/steal any of my works.

warnings; n/a

word count; 352

prompt based; “Can I kiss you?"

links; Marvel Materlist | Masterlist

© springismss - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

"Can I kiss you?".

Blinking in confusion for a moment, you tilted your head at the male in front of you as the words processed in your head. Had you heard right? Surely you hadn't. Maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you. Humming out slightly, you held your hand out in front of you for him to take before stepping forward.

The eyes of the Soldat watched your movements carefully as he tried to assess the situation. Had he gone too far? Maybe he had moved too fast? Ever since he'd managed to escape the clutches of HYDRA with your help he had a hard time trying to gauge how both you and he felt.

He had spent so long being told to feel one way that anything other than what he was used to at a certain point was foreign, and he certainly didn't like it. Yet with a little coaxing, he began to accept that there were other feelings humans were meant to feel.

Super soldiers or not.

Lifting your free hand you turned his hand over, palm facing up as the pads of your fingers began to draw soothing circles on the rough skin. A content hum passed your lips as it turned into a calming tune. One you knew your Soldat would relax too.

"Kiska~".

The gentle smile that appeared on your face made Bucky fall in love with you all over again. Despite all the kills. The violence. The mind-numbing emptiness. He could always count on you no matter what.

"Moya Lyubov, you don't need to ask that~".

Gentle hands cupped a tired face as noses rubbed together. A small giggle of happiness slipping from the shorter of the two as the others arms encased you. One warm and soft while the other contrasted, cold and hard.

Breath fanned across soft lips, the Soldat taking the opportunity to look over your face. From the tiny curve of your lips to the almost invisible freckles that graced your skin, he loved how perfect you looked.

"My sweet Soldat, you can kiss me whenever you like~".

Younger Romanoff | Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x widow!Romanoff!reader

Summary: Natasha's sister has to train with none other than the Hydra's most precious soldier as a part of the Black Widow Program.

Warning/s: fighting, blood, wounds, death, maybe a curse word?? I guess? Think that's it?

Author's note: Hii! :) This is my first Tumblr post (new to this). So please go easy on me. Enjoy!

You could literally feel the sweat running down your back underneath your suit as you took the seat next to your older sister Natasha. You knew that you should have no reason to be nervous at all, but you couldn't stop the bad feeling creeping in since the moment you opened your eyes that very morning.

Today was the day when the Windows were supposed to have a rather brutal training. But that wasn't the worst or unusual part. That training was supposed to be held not only by the Red Room, but by Hydra, too. The trainers in the Red Room had gathered all of the Widows to train with the Hydra's strongest soldier. The Winter Soldier. Just the thought of his name made you shiver.

You had a very bad feeling that even your status as the Widow couldn't push away. You were proven right the moment that the door of the training room slammed open, and your sister, the rest of the Widows in the waiting room and you looked up. One of the trainers was walking out of the room. But she wasn't alone. Behind her, she was dragging a poor beaten up Widow. She seemed like she was barely breathing. All of the Widows watched in silence as the first Widow of this training was dragged away God knows where. Natasha and you shared a look. You didn't say anything, but you both agreed that this was going to be a long day.

It was already dark outside as you watched the Widows go inside the training room. Some of them coming out of it alive, but badly beaten. Some of them weren't so lucky. Pretty soon you watched as Natasha got out of the training room, took her towel, pressed it into her bruised face, exchanged a few words with you and leave to go to her room. A few second passed and you heard your name being called out with a sharp, but clear voice.

"Y/N Romanoff!"

You stood up like a robot, wiped your hands with your training suit and started to walk over towards the training room door. This was it. Either you come out alive or you die trying. One or the other. As you walked into the room and the door closed behind you, you took in your surroundings. In front of you was placed a boxing ring, only you knew the two of you wouldn't be boxing. That one was for sure. You looked to your right and saw a bunch of your trainers and Hydra agents murmuring among themselves.

"Y/N, step in the middle of the ring." Anastassia, your own trainer said as she handed you a small pocket knife. As you did so you heard them talk behind you.

"Y/N Romanoff. Her sister is Natasha Romanoff. A girl that was here before her. The two of them have the highest score in the Black Widow Program."

"We shall see in a moment."

You felt a shiver going down your spine as one of the Hydra's agents uttered those words.

"Y/N Romanoff. Meet The Winter Soldier."

You looked to your left and that's when you saw him. His piercing black eyes full of hatred were looking at the Hydra's agent as he sat on a chair in the dark corner of the room. He suddenly stood up as the agent ordered him to do so. He started to walk up to you towards the ring, however, he still didn't look you in the eyes. That's why you still couldn't really see his eyes properly. Your hard gaze followed him around the room as he got closer to you. When he finally stepped over the wire and into the ring, you noticed that he was given the same little pocket knife as you were.

"Y/N Romanoff. Winter Soldier. Fight."

That's when he looked you back in the eyes. For a moment you were frozen in shock, you could tell that he was, too. Your knees buckled as you watched soldier's eyes soften a little as a small frown was placed on his oddly perfect face without the mask this time. You somehow were charmed by him. You couldn't help but feel like your breath was stolen away from you as his piercing eyes were looking at you with some kind of interest. Interest in what? You could easily tell that he was, too, shocked by his sudden capability to experience any sort of emotion other than emptiness and hatred whatsoever. But you knew that you had to snap out of it before he got into his normal self. So you did.

You landed the first punch and that's when he came to. He started to throw punches back as the Red Room trainers and the Hydra's agents were watching your every single move closely. Just as you were about to throw the next hit, the Winter Soldier, cut your cheek with the knife. You hissed a little and glared angrily at him. If he wanted to play dirty, so could you.

At the end of the training you got your ticket out of the training room, that much was clear. You had to admit, he was a rough opponent. He was quick, clever and very strong. This fight was a big challenge and you just know fully understood why some of the Widows didn't make it. As you gave the pocket knife back to your trainer you could truly feel the soreness in your whole body. You had a few bruises and a big cut on your cheek ashoulderder, but you feltsensence of accomplishment as you knew that you got the Hydra's soldier pretty good, too.

He was hissing angrily as he took the towel from some Hydra's agent. He had a giant slush over his chest, a bruised jaw and a little cut on his chin. You turned around, away from his gaze, as you continued to speak to the Hydra's agents and The Red Room trainers that were asking you all sorts of questions. You felt piercing eyes on the back of your head the entire time. You knew were well to whom they belonged to. But you couldn't make yourself turn around. After you were dismissed you turned around and practically ran out of the training room. You just couldn't wait to escape the torture you just went through. But not only physical torture, but emotional torture, too.

You found yourself all alone as you walked out of the room whose door was slammed shut behind you. You looked out of the small window of the waiting room and you saw that it was pure dark outside. You quietly sighed to yourself as you made your way to the showers. As you relaxed in the shower, put on some fresh clothes and took care of the bruises and cuts you made your way over to your dorm room.

But what you didn't expect was to be showed in the dark corner of the hallway. You couldn't even let out a quiet gasp as your mouth was suddenly covered by a cold metal arm. You felt yourself freeze in shock as you realized who it was.

"Успокойся, вдова." (Calm down, Widow.) He hissed at you quietly, his breath hot on your face.

You nodded, not saying a word because you knew that there was no way out of this one. You didn't know why you were acting like this. You were a Widow for crying out loud. You are strong, intelligent and full of undying fire in your heart. You couldn't understand why you were letting yourself be ordered around by the Winter Soldier like some rag doll. But at the same time you had to admit that he was very intimidating at the moment since his other arm was placed on the wall next to your head.

This position made him look twice taller than you. He slowly put his metal hand away from your mouth as you took s breath in. You leaned yourself against the wall, one foot placed on the wall behind you, crossing your arms as you looked at the soldier's a little bit soft and confused eyes. You looked him straight in the eyes, your gaze, trying to be strong and full of confidence.

"Чего ты хочешь, Солдат?" (What do you want, Soldier?)

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unsolved masterlist

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or any shits left to give, to make things even worse.

(Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, horror/paranormal elements

Disclaimer: no plot just vibes <3 it's just another banger dynamic that i loved and therefore had to write a garbage fic about. This is, in no way, a literary masterpiece so just be warned.

Here’s my Ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

to keep up with updates for this fic and others, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

7

joaquin post cabnw

It’s Ok

IMAGINE: Dating someone can get a little hard when someone doesn’t like your boyfriend. But you and Bucky can get through it, right?  WORD COUNT: 3.6k  WARNINGS: Trauma, a little cliché but hey you’re a teenager in most of this

"What the hell is wrong with you dad?" You spit at your father. "Bucky was hoping he could come over to the house one fucking time and have a civil conversation, and you had to ruin it!"

"I don't like that boy." He responded, crossing his arms as he glares at you.

"DOES IT LOOK LIKE I CARE? I LIKE HIM! HE MAKES ME HAPPY!" You retort angrily, quickly glancing out the window. You watched the dust continue to settle where Bucky had driven away.

"Hello, sir." Bucky greets your father, straightening himself the moment he saw the older man as walks into the house.

"Barnes..."

At that moment, you walk out of the kitchen. "Hiya, dad." You say nervously. He wasn't due home for another thirty minutes. He had caught you in the middle of preparing an enjoyable meal for the three of you.

"What's going on here?" He asked, zeroing in on your boyfriend.

As Bucky struggles for an answer, you step in. "We're making (Favorite Dish)."

"Why?"

"Well sir," Bucky begins. "Y/N thought it'd be a swell idea to throw a dinner and just have a friendly conversation."

Your father walks past the both of you, stepping into the kitchen and taking in the food being prepared. You and Bucky approach him nervously.

"I suppose."

Long story short, the dinner didn't go as you thought it would.

Your dad kept asking embarrassing questions, then bringing something up from Bucky's past. It was hard not to scold your father. Whenever Bucky got irritated or embarrassed by a certain subject, he'd reach for your hand underneath the table and grip it.

This happened a lot.

Bucky left quickly after the food was gone, giving you a small kiss on the cheek before leaving in his dusty old pickup truck Steve's parents lent him before they died.

"You didn't have to be so rude." You whisper once you finally calm down. "You know how Bucky is with his father and the army. Why did you have to bring it up?"

"Because a true man can handle the harsher things in life."

"You're just saying that because you want him to feel weak!"

Growing tired of this never-ending fight, your father shut it down. "Enough! I don't want to hear another word about that Barnes boy. I expect you to end things with him. He's a troublemaker." And that was that.

Or so your father thought.

You and Bucky would always meet up in town, spending the day together before you'd go your separate ways. Your father would get suspicious, but you'd come up with the cleverest lies and convince him otherwise. It wasn't until Bucky's twentieth birthday, several months after the dinner; your father finally connected the dots.

He dragged you over to Steve's apartment where Bucky was staying, hell bent on kicking his ass. You and Steve tried stopping them, but it was useless. Like beating a sumo wrestler with a twig kind of useless. It wasn't until Bucky showed your father an application to join the army. It stopped him from attacking Bucky, but terminating your relationship with him.

It was hard for you to see him after that. He had already finished high-school, and it left you finishing senior year by yourself. Your father was strict with your rules about seeing Bucky, but he let it slide when it was time for him to go.

He had gotten accepted and now it was time for him and his squadron to be shipped out. Your father, out of what little kindness he had left in his heart, allowed you to say goodbye. It was hard letting him go. You broke down in silent tears the moment you took in his sharp uniform.

-

"Hey, doll." He smiled sadly; drinking in the sight of you. He didn't know when it would be the next time he'd see you again.

"Why are you doing this?" You ask him, grabbing his shoulders. "Is it for the money? Why? Why are you leaving me?"

Bucky gently removes your hands and holds them against his chest. "Y/N, baby. I ain't doing this for the money." He brings his lips against yours and kisses you sweetly.

"I'm doing this so I can prove to you, and your father that I can make something of myself. That I can be that guy who made a difference. That one guy who isn't labeled a troublemaker or a brainless oaf." He squeezes your hands encouragingly. "By the time I come back, I can prove to everyone here in this small little place, I can be the good guy. I can be the one to take care of you."

"But you don't need to do this!" You tell him, pulling your hands away to wipe your tears. "If anyone can't see how amazing you are, they can go screw themselves. I love you for the sweet man you are. You don't need to join the damn army to prove shit!"

"Y/N..." Bucky watches as you grow quiet. He wraps his arms around you and holds you close.

"I don't want to lose you out there," you mumble into his chest, most likely staining his uniform with your tears.

"I'll make sure he doesn't die out there," someone beside you says.

"Steve?" You say, lifting your head from Bucky's torso. "You're going with him?"

The short blonde smiles gently, watching as you pull away from Bucky to give him a hug. "Who's better than me to keep him out of trouble?"

"That's my line," Bucky says, drawing you into one last embrace. Your dad watches from afar as you two kiss goodbye.

-

Everything was all right at first. Every Friday, you would receive a letter from Bucky (And Steve!) talking about what had happened in the past week, not forgetting to mention how much he had missed you.

With the occasional joke here and there, he would always express his love for you in simple poetry. Then you would quickly send your own letter, equally expressing the love you shared and reminisced about the memories the two of you had.

For six months, things had gone smoothly. Then the letters slowly stop. For weeks on end, you wouldn't get a single letter. And when you did, it was quick and to the point.

Bucky and Steve had to go somewhere, and they couldn't send as many letters as they wanted to. Buck continued to say he loved you with all his heart, and he couldn't wait to come back home.

Weeks of silence had turned into months. It broke your heart to come home from school on Friday and receive no letters. Prom came around and you ended up going with your cousin, not wanting to ruin your relationship with Bucky just to have a romantic prom night. Graduation follows shortly after, and it saddens you to think you can't celebrate with James.

It's horrible. But then it happens.

Around the third week of college, almost three years after Bucky left, you came home to your father speaking with someone on your front porch. The soldier quickly spotted you approaching and ceased his conversation.

"Y/N?" The stranger questioned.

"Yes?"

"It's me!" The man carefully takes off his service cap and tucks it underneath his arm. "It's Steve!"

Warily glancing at the tall blonde, you think of ways to yell at him for being an asshole until you look into his eyes. The same blue beauties that belonged to your best friend.

"STEVE!" You're quick to engulf him in a hug but quickly retract. Blood roars in your ears as you become excited. If Steve was here, that meant Bucky was too.

"Where's James? I know he's hiding around here somewhere. If this is a ruse to scare me, I'll kick your ass, Rogers."

After looking around, you finally look to Steve, who at the moment doesn't look so excited. "Steve...?" Then you think of every horrible way a person could die in a war. None ease your worried mind as you ask your friend a single question.

"Is Bucky... Dead, Steve?" The gentle giant shakes his head but doesn't lose the solemn expression.

"No."

Your worry turns into confusion. "So where the hell is he?"

Your father, who you had forgotten about at the moment, spoke up. "We think it'd be easier to just show you..."

-

You stare through a large window. On one side, you stand with Steve and your father. On the other, a nurse hovers over a limp body lying in the hospital bed. She checks the respiratory ventilator and the tubes that go along with it. Once she finds everything in its place, she adjusts his IV line and leaves.

Walking out of the door, she catches your eye and gives you a sad look. It lasts only a moment until she leaves, but you know what just happened. She's seen this before. And it rarely ends well.

"How long has it been?" You ask quietly, returning your gaze to Bucky's figure.

"About a week." Steve replies, observing you. Your body tenses up as you close your eyes.

"What. Happened. To. Him?"

He explains how he and Bucky were traveling through Germany to pick up their mark holding government secrets when the train they were riding was shot at. Bucky had fallen out as he and the rest of the men started shooting back.

"It was a long fall." Steve choked out, letting out a few tears himself. "When the gunfire had stopped, we went looking for him. He lost a lot of blood when we found him."

Your shoulders steadily rise up and down as you attempt to stifle your cries. Your dad sees this and goes to comfort you. Just as his hand reaches your arm, you snap.

"YOU DID THIS! THIS IS YOUR FAULT! YOU MADE THIS HAPPEN!"

Both of the men look shocked as you yell. Hospital staff glances at the three of you but don't make a move to stop it. They've all witnessed it before.

You bring your hands down on your father's chest, weakly beating him. "HE WOULDN'T HAVE LEFT IF YOU HADN'T PUSHED HIM TO DO IT!" Steve has to pull you away, but you don't put up a fight. The moment he grabs you, all the fight leaves.

"I'll take them home, Mr. L/N," Steve promises, pulling you into Bucky's room. Your father soon leaves, taking a quick glance at you before scurrying over to Buck before leaving. Maybe it was his fault.  

You don't notice him leave. Your only concern was Bucky.

You note the thin, straw-like tubes sticking out of his nose connecting and watch as his chest slowly moves up and down. You note the differences from when you last saw Buck.

His hair was longer and much stringier than before. He wore a trimmed five o'clock shadow that suited him nicely. He had a few light scars across his cheeks, but none that ruined his look. Gently running your fingers through his hair, your arm brushes against the left side of his body.

Something feels off. "What else happened to him?" You whimper.

Steve takes a deep breath through his nose and approaches his friend. His arm brushes against yours as he reaches for the edge of the blanket. He hesitates for a moment, before pulling the thin material back.

The lights shine off it for a second, blinding you momentarily. "What the...?" The metal prosthesis replacing his arm glints underneath the weak lighting. A red star painted on his shoulder. It matches its peer perfectly.

"He lost it in the fall."

The tears fall like rain as you reach out for Bucky. Steve rubs your back, but it doesn't calm you down much. Only James could help you relax. Finding your tears had somewhat subsided, you grab your boyfriend's flesh hand and squeeze it tight.

"Do they know when he'll wake up?" You croak, your voice scratchy from all your crying.

"Doctors say because of the blood he lost and the stress they put him through, it'll be four weeks at the most." You glance at Steve, showing him your red eyes before focusing on Bucky.

"I'll wait for you."

-

Turns out, you didn't have to wait long. Around a week after receiving word that Buck was in the hospital, he woke up. And you were right beside him when it happened.

The doctors allowed you to stay the past few nights while he recovered. Steve visited every morning and evening to bring fresh clothes and make sure you ate properly. The nurses greeted you in the afternoon as they changed the bedpan and checked his vitals.

While waiting for him to stir, you would talk about what happened. You knew things had changed with both Steve and Bucky.

They differed from the reckless young adults you originally knew them as. Steve was obviously bigger and taller than before, and Buck was more physically defined.

"They gave me a series of experimental drugs," Steve told you on the third day. "One doctor there took a liking to me and convinced the commander to 'work' on me. He gave me this special cocktail that he made from an assortment of chemicals and it changed me."

"What about Buck? Wouldn't you guys have given him a regular prosthetic? Why a metal one?" Steve watched as you played with Bucky's metal fingers, rubbing the cool knuckles as you watched him sleep.

"It wasn't actually us who found him first." He explained. "The Russians got him, patched him up. Hence the red star. We got him back by trading a prisoner we caught that was involved in one of our previous assignments."

You couldn’t imagine the pain he must have gone through. All alone with the enemy, spending his days behind enemy lines getting tortured. At least he was home, safe from the danger.

“It’s ok now,” you whispered, gently pressing a kiss to the prosthetic palm. “You’re gonna be ok.”

-

When he finally awoke, you weren't exactly prepared. Neither was he.

Bucky woke up gasping, unable to breathe. His lungs felt like they were on fire! He had been having a nightmare; he was falling from a great height. When he landed, these people found him and started experimenting on him.

They poked and prodded at him with knives and such. So much pain, so much screaming.

Falling back onto the bed, he drank in his surroundings. The smell of lemon disinfectant, the sight of colorless food, the feel of a paper gown. Bucky knew exactly where he was. Just to make sure, he glanced at his arm. The metal limb proved his theory.

"It's not a dream..." He muttered, closing his eyes. As he started reaching for the assist button, he finally noticed you, sleeping in a chair resting in the corner. "Hey, there doll." He called out softly.  

You stir, but don't make an intention to get up. "Get up doll." He says louder. This time, you open an eyelid. At first, you don't react. You calmly close your eyelid before you quickly reopen both your eyes.

"BUCKY!" You shout happily, jumping up from the chair. The soldier braces himself for impact.

Your arms are quick to wrap around his neck as you pepper his face with kisses. He stops the attack by grabbing your hands in his own and squeezing them gently.

You're slightly surprised he can move his prosthetic arm like his original, but you don't think about it too much. "Calm down. I'm right here. I'm with you." The shock turns into happiness as you cry.

"You're here, you're actually here!"

"I am," Bucky responds, softly running his thumbs across the back of your hands. He removes one to cup your cheek. "You got more beautiful than the last time I saw you." His grin somehow stretches wider as you blush. "How the hell did you do that?"

"You're imagining shit, Barnes."

Bucky's large brown eyes take in your worn face, and he worries. Then he calmly slides over in his bed, mindful of all the wires and tubing, and pats the cleared area.

"Lay down with me, darling?" Bucky asks politely.

The way he asks and the sudden urge to sleep overcomes you, you can't say no. He lets go of you, allowing you to climb in next to him. His arms are quick to ensnare you once more, pulling you into this warm sanctuary.

"Sleep. I'll be here when you wake up. Then we can talk."

"You sure?"

The long-haired brunette smiles down at you gently, softly kissing your forehead. "I promise. I ain't leaving again for a long time."

-

The hospital was reluctant on letting Bucky go after a week of him waking up. Both of you had a sneaking suspicion they wanted to check out his new arm, but you luckily got him out of there.

Against the wishes of your father, you had started seeing Bucky again. It differed from before, I should add. He wasn't the same solo rebel you had grown to love.

He was more self-conscious about his figure now, always wearing jackets even when it was warm out. But his caring attitude stayed the same. Buck still loved you with all his heart. Your father still had a hard time accepting this.

You had moved out of the house a couple months after Bucky woke up, and the two of you bought an apartment together. To celebrate, your father had invited you over to have a nice dinner. After being convinced by Bucky, you had accepted.

The dinner started off smoothly. Then you excused yourself to go to the restroom. After washing your hands, you reached for a towel, only to find there was nothing. Not wanting to ruin your new shirt, you carefully leave the bathroom to grab a dish towel from the kitchen. To get over there, you needed to pass through the dining room.

As you approach, you suddenly hear your father speaking in a hushed tone.

"The game's up, Barnes. You're back home now. You don't have to put on a show anymore."

"It's not a show, sir," your boyfriend replied truthfully. "I love them."

"So why are you here then?" Your father demands. "If you love them so much, what are you trying to prove? Why do you need to seem like you're this perfect boyfriend?"

"Because I left them!" Bucky seemed to shout in a hushed voice. His voice drops to a harmless whisper: it's so soft you have to strain your ears just to hear.

"I left them all alone. I made Y/N suffer through hell and back because of a decision I made. I left so I could seem like a better man to you, but apparently it didn't!" He exclaimed quietly, not wanting you to hear.

"But thank God Y/N was still here for me. I honestly thought they would get fed up after waiting years for me, but they didn't; unlike you, they had faith that I was coming back to them, dead or alive. So now I'm done trying to please you, to stand up to your ridiculous standards. I thought me appreciating your child would be enough for you, making them happy, was enough, but apparently not."

His speech immediately gets you all riled up; there's an urge to yell in your dad's face. You hear a fork clinking against a plate before your father clears his throat. The action makes you wait.

"So you'd do anything to keep my little (Nickname) safe?" He asks Bucky seriously, clasping his hands together. Unbeknownst to you, Bucky was staring your father straight in the eye, clenching his own hands.

"Sir, I don't think you understood me at all." He looks to the direction of the bathroom before looking back at your dad. "I'd die if that's what Y/N wanted me to do. If it made them happy, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

There's silence until it's broken.

"Then I guess you can continue the relationship with my blessing."

It's then where you make yourself known. "Hi, guys!" You say cheerfully, pretending you hadn't eavesdropped on their conversation.

"What'd I miss?" You continue taking your seat next to Bucky. He smiles as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. He quickly presses a kiss against your lips before looking to your dad.

They share a look. "Nothing much, darling."

You never ask about the conversation, figuring it was none of your business. But honestly, it didn't matter. Your father finally accepted Bucky, Bucky loved you, and you were all happy.

It didn't matter what other people thought about the two of you anymore. Bucky was safe at home with you. That's the way it was meant to be.

This shit has me in the strongest chock hold

First Date

Pairing: tfatws Bucky Barnes x Single Mom! Reader

Ch. 2 of Blue is For Ben series | Masterlist | Ch. 1 | Ch. 3

Word count: 6.0k

Summary: Bucky wants to ask you out on a real first date, but what does that look like when you don’t have anyone to watch your son? 

Warnings: mild language, mentions of previous assholes reader has dated, more kide related media and games, I think that’s all it’s pretty cute

AN: Okay… I know this took forever to get out, but I started writing one idea that takes place after this and had a hard time transitioning, so I started over and wrote this chapter instead 😂 If you’re waiting for something a little spicier, stay tuned, I promise it’s coming 😉 Thanks @deceiverofgodss for helping me through this, ily 💙

“NO! It’s gonna fall!” Your son screeched from the living room. And as you continued to chop up your taco meat in the pan, you heard a heavy thump on the ground and an excited giggle from the four-year-old. 

Sometimes it was hard to believe that there was a hundred-year difference between the two of them. Ben’s developing motor skills and small size gave him a slight disadvantage as he played his favorite Bluey game, and Bucky was far too invested in how high he could get their high score. Keepy Uppy experts, they called themselves, smacking a balloon this way and that trying to keep it off of the floor. 

You weren’t sure your downstairs neighbors would be as excited about it as they were. But it was beyond adorable, and you didn’t have the heart to make them stop. 

It hadn’t taken long for Bucky Barnes to find a place for himself in your lives, and it had been far easier to get him through your door since that first night he came over for dinner. It started with dinners here and there until he was almost expected at the table each night. Ben wanting to show off his school projects had turned into after-school play dates, which then became a demanding four-year-old and a super soldier on call, ready to be at your doorstep in a moment's notice. 

One of those first few afternoons you had half a mind to apologize, to tell him he was allowed to tell Ben ‘no’ and do his own thing. But he walked in with a sweet smile and soft touches, greeting Ben with equal enthusiasm. Before you could even get it out, Bucky made sure you knew that he was exactly where he wanted to be. 

When it was just the two of you, Ben would often tell you that Bucky was his best friend. And after you put him to bed, you felt like a schoolgirl with a crush when Bucky’s nightly text messages came in. “Bedtime went okay?” translated to it’s my turn to talk to you, which never failed to bring a giddy smile to your face. 

“MAMA!” You snapped your head up in Ben’s direction, seeing the blue balloon floating across the counter that divided your kitchen and your living room. Glancing at Bucky, he gave you a wink as his eyes danced between you and the balloon. 

With both boys looking at you with anticipation, how could you deny them?

Resting your spatula against the pan, you scurried to the counter and got up on your toes, leaning across it to smack the balloon back into the living room where Ben bounced over to it. You watched them for a few moments, smiling to yourself as you watched the brick wall of a man play so sweetly with Ben, complete with goofy faces and exaggerated movements just to make him laugh. 

That shouldn’t have been all it took to make you absolutely head over heels for him. And yet you had to physically make yourself look away and focus on cooking dinner to avoid watching him with heart eyes. Logically, watching a man play well with your four-year-old shouldn’t have been the root of your affections… but it was kind of hard for it to be anything else when Ben was always with you. 

“Hey, we kept it up twenty-four times, that’s pretty good!” Bucky reasoned from the living room, alerting you to the fact that their game of Keepy Uppy had ended. 

“Let’s do it again! We’ll really beat the high score this time,” Ben said enthusiastically, and Bucky gave a deep chuckle. 

“How about you start this round without me? See how far you can get by yourself, okay? I’ll be back in a sec,” he reasoned, leaving the four-year-old to count to himself. 

Before you could process that he was coming to see you, one of Bucky’s large hands smoothed over the middle of your back. Your body instinctively leaned into his touch, and you tried to cover it up by turning to meet his gaze, finding him leaning against the counter beside you with a cocked brow. 

“Hey sugar, come here often?” He teased, but it still brought a sheepish smile to your face as his deep voice lilted in all the right places. 

“Only every day of my life,” you retorted, a boyish grin appearing on his face. 

“Can I help you with anything?” He asked gently. 

“I mean… you could stir the beans if you want. I thought you were playing with Ben?” 

“And now I’m talking to you,” he winked at you, removing his hand from your back so he could tend to the other pot simmering on the stove. You tried to ignore how much you missed the feeling. “He’ll be fine, I’ll go back out there in a few minutes.”

“Mmm, okay… so what do you want?” You shot playfully, and he gave you a confused look. “I’m smarter than that, James. You have a question you want me to answer.” He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“I- well, not because I don’t want to spend time with you,” he quickly defended himself, and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you. “It’s- c’mon, we were playing keepy uppy, you can’t expect me to turn that down,” he argued, now laughing with you. 

“But you do have a question for me?” He nodded in defeat. 

“I was just wondering… Do you have someone you trust to watch Ben?” 

Oh. 

That question. 

The one that, with men you had entertained in the past, had meant they were done playing family man, that they wanted Ben to be someone else’s problem so they could get you alone. It was always pitched to you like it was some kind of fantasy of yours, like they were doing you this big favor by giving you a reason not to be Mom. As if that was ever something you wanted to escape. 

It usually meant the end of whatever short-lived flirtationship you had allowed. They would show their true colors, turning into ugly versions of themselves when denied what they were really after. Your walls would go back up, you would keep your baby close to your chest, and you would never hear from them again. 

But Bucky was nothing like any of those men. He couldn’t be farther from them. 

“I uh… No, I don’t,” you started shyly, not very good at hiding how his question had caught you off guard. But when you watched his expression shift, it was soft, and there was no leap to a defense. He was different. “I’ve been working from home since Ben was born, and I only went back to the office because he started going to school. Other than friends here and there…” You shrugged and gave a quiet shake of your head. “Why do you ask?”

“Well…” he started, taking a deep breath before he looked back at you, still effortlessly reducing you to a puddle with one look despite his evident nerves. “I was thinking of asking you out on a date.” 

It was annoying what that one sentence did to you. 

“Figured I’d do this right, take you out to dinner and make it a real first date. Just for one night.” 

Just for one night… you’d never heard that one before. 

“I can.” What were you saying? “I can find someone. Just for a few hours, right? I’m sure there are a few sitters in the building. I can make it work.” 

What were you saying? 

It burned coming up out of your throat. Sure, Ben was four years old, he was plenty old enough to be left under someone else’s supervision. But he was all you had. And it’s not like you required much from a potential sitter, keeping him safe and happy was all you really cared about. But it was so hard to let go of him, and far easier to just reschedule things for another time. Now you were agreeing to hand your baby away because a pair of pretty blue eyes said he wanted to treat you to a night out. 

And you wanted it. 

Before you could take it back, even before the rush of mom guilt started to flood in, Bucky was already swooping in to rescue you from your spiraling thoughts.

“Hang on, don’t go pawning him off on someone you don’t trust, you’re gonna stress me out,” he assured you, his hands coming up to rub the sides of your arms soothingly, his face completely serious. “I just wanted to know if you already had someone, not for you to go find one.” 

The relief that flooded your body was more satisfying than you could have ever imagined. And somehow there was still room to be disappointed in what you lost. The idea of sitting at a table in a nice restaurant and being able to talk, really talk without the fear of what little ears could hear… 

With Bucky, it sounded wonderful. 

“I still want to take you out on a date,” he told you, bringing you out of your thoughts as if he could read them. You smiled sheepishly and shook your head. 

“And how do you think that’s gonna work, Buck?” You laughed, amused by the image of you and Bucky in a fancy dining room joined by a booster seat and a plate of chicken nuggets. “Just give me a little time to conduct interviews like a neurotic mom, I’ll find someone he’ll be okay with.”

“Nah, we’ll take him with us,” He grinned, patting your arms before he pushed off of the counter to peek out into the living room. “Psst…. Ben… c’mere.” You watched in intrigue as your son quickly abandoned the balloon he was tossing into the air to toddle over to the super soldier, launching himself into Bucky’s arms as the tall man kneeled down.  

“What do you think about me taking you and your mom to the park on Saturday?” he offered, and your son immediately lit up. 

“Is today Saturday?” You and Bucky shared a look. 

“No buddy, today is Thursday. Saturday is on the weekend when you don’t go to school.” Ben contemplated this for a moment before he replied. 

“Why?” He asked, his arms still wrapped around Bucky’s shoulders. You couldn’t help but giggle, watching Bucky try not to laugh as he recalibrated, Ben’s responses clearly not having matched the idea in his head. 

“Well… so we can all spend some time together. We’ll go get hot dogs, and I’ll take you guys to the park. And maybe I’ll treat you guys to…” Bucky hesitated, taking a quick glance at you as he considered his next words. “Maybe I’ll get us a treat afterward. How’s that sound?” 

“Good!” Ben said enthusiastically, already starting to climb around the super soldier like a jungle gym. “Bucky?” 

“Yeah, buddy?” 

“Can tomorrow be Saturday?” Bucky’s face softened as he helped Ben climb up around his back. Seeing Ben so excited, you couldn’t help your own heart melting a little bit. You could compromise. 

“Ben, honey,” you started, and Ben’s face appeared under Bucky’s bicep as he hung off of the outstretched vibranium arm like a monkey. “Why don’t you ask Bucky if he wants to go tomorrow after school?” 

You watched him struggle to climb around Bucky’s arm, the human playground as patient as ever while he watched – and helped – in amusement. And he scrunched his nose when Ben put his mouth to Bucky’s ear, much better at keeping himself from flinching away from Ben’s ticklish whispers than you were. 

And then Bucky effortlessly grabbed the child and twisted him around, giggling the whole way, to whisper his response in Ben’s ear. When he backed away, the two boys shared a look, nodding in agreement. Thick as thieves… Bucky nodded his head towards you, getting Ben to finally loop you into the plan. 

“Bucky sayed yes! He sayed it’s a date,” he relayed excitedly, and then did his best to wink with only one of his eyes. He almost had it, too. 

“Then tomorrow it is,” you said sweetly, and this time Bucky was the one shooting you a wink as he got up from his knees. 

“Keepy Uppy! Come on, let’s go!” Ben pleaded, no longer interested in dragging on these grown-up details, and pulling on Bucky’s hand with all his strength. Which, of course, didn’t make a difference. 

“Hold on, kiddo, let me finish talking to your Mama,” he laughed, and Ben groaned as he returned to the living room to play by himself. You kept yourself propped up against the counter as Bucky approached you, confident that your weakened knees needed another moment to be able to support you. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to rush you into anything,” you smiled, and he shook his head. 

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you out for an embarrassingly long amount of time, tomorrow is perfect” he offered, and you felt heat rush to your cheeks. “I’m just glad he’s so excited.” 

“Me too,” you sighed, glancing back out into the living room to see your son laid out on the edge of the couch as he tossed his balloon into the air. “So, what treat did you change your mind about?” You asked with a grin. 

“It wasn’t so much that I changed my mind? I just didn’t think promising him ice cream ahead of time would end up working in our favor,” he explained with an exasperated expression, pulling a belly laugh out of you. 

He was different. 

…

“Alright I’ve got one,” Bucky offered from his spot on the wooden bench next to you, the two of you sitting on the perimeter of the park taking turns scooping bites from the rest of Ben’s cup of chocolate ice cream, which he’d ditched to play cafe with the other children and bring you the occasional fake ice cream. 

“Oh this should be good,” you teased, handing him the small cup as you finished your bite. After having gotten hot dogs and walked around the city, you had already crossed off the usual first date topics and found yourselves in this sort of game of twenty questions. The main difference is that you were trying to take advantage of your time without little ears. Well, not being in an enclosed space with little ears. 

“What’s the worst date you’ve ever been on?” he asked, and you contemplated your answer as you watched him scoop out his last bite – he could finish it off in one spoonful easily, but he only took half before he handed it back to you. 

“Okay, this one wasn’t exactly terrible, but just weird,” you started, and Bucky chuckled as you finished off the sweet treat and prepared to tell the story. “This guy took me out to eat at a hole-in-the-wall pizza place. Literally, it was just a window on the side of the tiniest building I’ve ever seen. 

“We end up sitting to eat it in a park close by, and I start to think that the date can finally start. But then I look over and see him picking all his toppings off.” Bucky scrunched his nose, making you laugh as you kept explaining. “After he’d polished those off, he started peeling the cheese off too, just eating it in chunks.”

“And then he just ate the whole soggy crust by itself?” he asked incredulously. When you nodded, he closed his eyes and dropped his head into one of his hands, rubbing his face in what could only be described as despair. 

“I lasted about halfway through the crust before I threw etiquette out the window, and asked him what the hell he was doing to that poor piece of pizza. He just laughed and told me he’d been eating it that way since he was a kid.” 

“Please tell me you got up and left immediately,” he groaned, pulling a deep belly laugh from you as you watched him struggle to process your story. 

You could have said that. That would be the normal thing to answer with, especially when talking about a different man on a first date. 

“That uh… that was actually Ben’s dad.” 

Or just put it all out there. That’s… that’s what you did. Way to make it awkward. 

You weren’t sure what kind of response you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t for him to look at you with his brows raised as if he’d just come to some profound discovery rather than irritation, or even surprise. 

“So that’s why Ben eats pizza like that…” 

“Like a weirdo? Apparently,” you finished, and Bucky chuckled to himself as he looked back out at the playground to check on the boy in question, and you admired his features as he did. “He’s never met that man in his life, but I guess pizza preferences are genetic. He just came out of the womb ready to confuse anyone who has to see him tear into a pepperoni pizza.” 

“I’ve told you I’m from Brooklyn, right? New York?” He piped up, and you scrunched your face up in sympathy.

“I’m so sorry,” you laughed, an amused grin dancing on his face. “It probably drives you crazy, doesn’t it?” 

“A little bit of me dies inside each time I watch him do it,” he deadpanned, only encouraging more of your laughter. “You should let me teach him how to eat it like a New Yorker.” 

“Oh yeah? And which way is that?” 

“You fold it! Down at the crust, that way you can eat it with one hand and keep walking,” he explained very passionately. Part of you wondered if he was exaggerating a little bit – his New York was a few decades behind the trends – but that was exactly how you’d seen him manhandle his slices last week. 

“His hands are too small for that!” You reminded him, giggling when he looked offended. 

“So we teach him now. Fix it before it’s too late, and then when he’s older we won’t have to worry about him eating pizza like a psychopath.” 

The second the words left his lips, you felt realization hit him. 

There was still an amused grin on his face, but the implication behind his words still hung in the air, and you could tell he was weighing his options as he watched your face for any trace of a response to how many times he had said we, not to mention talk of still being around when Ben was a little older. 

“I- sorry, I know I just broke a lot of first date rules in a row,” he settled on, attempting to be humorous, so you played along. 

“Well, you fed my kid hot dogs and ice cream, and didn’t bat an eye when I brought up the baby daddy, so I think we can throw those rules out the window.” Bucky’s nose scrunched up as he let out a boyish giggle, his cheeks turning pink at your reminder, and you hoped that he couldn’t hear the way your heart sped up because of it. 

“Yeah? Just how many of those rules are we throwing out?” He asked smoothly, raising an eyebrow at you as he adjusted his spot on the bench, ending up just a little bit closer to you. 

“That depends on what you’re planning,” you retorted, unable to stop from giggling when he gave you a smug expression. 

Your innocent laughter was quick to fade when his tongue peeked out to lick his lips in a way that should not have had as much of an effect on you as it did, finding his baby blues darting down to your lips before returning your gaze. 

“You’ve got something, right here…” he husked, the arm that had been resting against the back of the park bench moving slyly to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against the corner of your lips. 

“Hmmm really? Did I get ice cream on my face?” you managed as his face inched closer to yours, scanning your expression for any sign of rebuttal. Lucky for him, you were so giddy with anticipation that you may as well have had a green light on your forehead. 

“Mhm, you did,” he chuckled deeply, the gravel of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “Let me get that for you…” 

“How kind of you,” you whispered, earning you a bright smile as the tip of his nose brushed against yours, your eyelids fluttering shut as you anticipated his next move. 

The moment Bucky’s lips met yours, you could have been easily convinced that the world around you had fallen away. You could count on one hand the number of times you’d been kissed like this in the last four years, but none of them even stood close. 

It was pure. Fucking. Bliss. 

His mouth molded onto yours like a puzzle piece, filling something inside of you that you hadn’t realized was empty, curing some secret ache in your soul. The hand cupping your cheek slipped to the back of your neck to hold you just that much closer, angling his face to kiss you again, keeping you close to him. He touched you as if you were a delicate thing to be treasured while he kissed you like you were the very thing keeping him alive. 

Bucky parted the kiss and held his lips away from yours by mere centimeters, an immediate wave of disappointment washing over you, wanting nothing more than for him to do it again. And again. And again. 

“What do you think, is this one of those rules we can ignore?” he murmured, a playful grin on his face as you caught your breath. 

“I think I’ll let it slide,” you teased right back, delighted by the huff of amusement you got from the muscular man in front of you, more than eager to let him lean back in to keep kissing you…

“MAMA!” 

Honestly, you should have seen it coming. 

Bucky’s lips had only just touched yours when Ben called for you from across the playground, and you could feel the super-soldier's wide grin spreading across his face as you scrunched your nose. 

You put on your best attentive mother face as you turned to look at your son, finding him attempting to run up to you through the wood chips of the playground, his eyes trained on the handful of leaves in his hands. 

“Yes baby?” you asked as he arrived right at your feet, finally looking up at you and Bucky. 

“I buyed you more ice cream!” Ben shoved his cupped hands up to your chin, waiting expectantly for you to relieve him of his delivery. 

“That was very sweet of you, Ben, thank you,” you sighed, doing your very best to keep the exasperation from your voice – Bucky’s chuckle telling you that you may not have succeeded – as you pretended to nibble on the leaves you’d been gifted. This was probably the fourth time you’d gone through his game of ice cream delivery, your date having received the other three. 

When you emptied his “bowl” by tossing his leaves to the side, just as you and Bucky had alternated doing for the past six handfuls, you assumed he would return back to the game of cafe so his new friends could “wash the dishes.” That was the pattern, that’s how the game was supposed to go. 

But if being a mom had taught you anything, it was that any assumption about your son’s next move would prove to be wrong. 

So of course, possibly the only time where you might have wanted him to keep playing his game and leave you to find your own entertainment on the park bench, he patted his hands on his pants and began climbing into your lap. Pushing limbs to the side, almost kicking Bucky in the abdomen, actually headbutting you in the abdomen… the whole nine yards. 

“What uh… what are you doin, bud?” you asked once he’d settled himself in the pocket of your crossed legs, grabbing for your arms as he wrapped them around him. 

“I jus’ wanted to snuggle you,” he shrugged, wiggling impossibly closer to you as he looked back out at the playground, perfectly content to watch the other children play as he sat with the two of you. You rolled your eyes for only Bucky to see, getting another laugh out of him as you squeezed your son tight. 

“Thank you, sweetheart, you know I love your cuddles,” you cooed, pressing a kiss into his soft hair. “You have awesome timing, did you know that? The absolute best.” Ben hummed in agreement to your not-so-subtle sarcasm, happy as could be while Bucky continued laughing. 

While you definitely would have enjoyed getting to kiss him just a little bit longer, getting cuddled by your son while Bucky tucked in close and wrapped an arm around your shoulders was a very close second. 

…

You shut the door to Ben’s room gently behind you, tip-toeing out into the living room where Bucky was waiting for you, leaning up against the arm of the couch with his hands resting gently in his lap. He raised his brows expectantly, silently asking how it went. 

You waved a hand across your face. “He’s out,” you whispered, making Bucky smile. 

“I thought he would be,” he said softly, nodding slowly. “I could tell he was so tired there at the end, he was getting goofy.” You laughed as you remembered Ben’s antics, climbing all over Bucky as he sat on the couch, doing anything he could to fight sleep, and laughing at just about anything that the super-soldier said to him whether it was meant to be comical or not. 

“You wore him out!” you reminded, moving closer to him as you recounted the evening. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that boy run as fast as when you joined the kids’ game of chase.” He giggled as you stepped into the space between his legs, his hands instinctively lifting off of his lap to rest comfortably on your hips. “Earned yourself a couple points with the moms out there tonight.” 

“Oh yeah?” he asked sweetly, tilting his head in intrigue as you ran your hands up and down his muscular arms. Very muscular arms… You bit your lips and nodded to answer, earning a deep hum. “Did it earn me any points with Ben’s mom?” 

Your eyes found the chain of his dog tags hanging around his neck, tucked into the soft sweater that stretched over his chest. Buying yourself time to find the right words to answer his flirtatious question, you trailed your hands up his shoulders until they found the beaded chain. Slowly you pulled them out and kept them hooked in two of your fingers, the chain taught against his neck as you finally met his gaze. 

The blue of his eyes was slowly being overtaken by his pupils as he watched you. Not completely, but just enough to be noticeable, and it gave you a surge of confidence. You still had it. 

“You earned enough points to be able to kiss me again,” you bartered, and a single dark brow arched up his forehead as you leaned closer, pressing your body up against his. 

“How soon can I cash it in?” The gravel of his voice rumbled through his body, and you felt it go directly to your core. You gave a slight tug on the chain in your hands, clueing him into your answer. 

He didn’t need telling twice. Bucky followed the pull of his dog tags and leaned in to reconnect his lips with yours, and the second they hit home you melted into his grasp. You dropped the chain and wrapped your arms around his neck, putting most of your weight in his arms as his hands slid to wrap around your hips, holding you tight. 

It was hot, full of fire and hunger. He moved against you like it was second nature, tuned into every little sign and indicator your body was giving him, rendering you practically boneless. He nipped at your bottom lip, and teased your tongue with his own as you let him in, no thoughts in your head save from letting him keep kissing you like his life depended on it. 

Before you could wrap your brain around needing to stop for air, Bucky broke the kiss. His lips were so close, and yet so far, hovering inches away from yours. You spared a glance to see why he was torturing you like this, leaning back slightly to find his eyebrows furrowed as he stood completely still, peering out of his peripheral vision to follow… whatever it was he heard. 

After a few moments of silence, he relaxed again, turning his focus back to you and donning a sheepish grin when you raised your brows in question. “Sorry, I thought I heard Ben.” 

Ben… Ben, your son, sleeping in the other room. 

You didn’t even have the brain power to remember where you were, let alone keep your motherly instincts intact. Usually, it was you who had the all-hearing ears, being able to pick up on any slight out-of-place movement your son may have made. 

This time you didn’t. But Bucky did. While making out with you. 

“Are you even real?” You gushed, earning you a deep chuckle that rumbled through him, his nose scrunched up in amusement. “I mean, it’s enough of a task trying to find a man even willing to give a single mom the time of day. But here you are, buying him ice cream on our first date and listening for him mid-makeout.” His cheeks were turning a cute shade of pink as you rattled on with your praise, shaking his head through his amusement. 

“Well, I’m glad I’m doing something right, but that’s… I don’t feel like I deserve praise for that,” he admitted modestly, his tumb rubbing a soothing circle into you back as he continued to hold you close. “I actually feel like I should be apologizing for what I said earlier, when I went on about future things, and saying ‘we’ so many times… I- I hope I didn’t freak you out.”

The longer he kept talking, the more you were convinced you were dreaming. At any moment you would wake up, and this wonderful wonderful man would be ripped away from you. 

But when the dream didn’t end, you were quick to ease his worries. “Please don’t apologize for that, it was- okay, I don’t want to freak you out, but it was actually really refreshing.” 

Bucky tilted his head in question, gesturing for you to keep talking, and you took a moment to find the right words to explain what you were trying to tell him. Words that didn’t make it sound quite as pathetic as you always thought it did. 

“The guys I’ve dated in the past… well, I’ll just say that they were less concerned about finding a sitter specifically for the first date, and more interested in finding a way to get Ben out of the equation completely.” You had more to say, but for a moment all you could do was watch him. His face changed as soon as the words left your lips, and you were momentarily fascinated by the thinly veiled discomfort that took over his expression. 

Bucky was angry. 

Was it weird that it made your knees weak? His intense care for the both of you – as a complete unit – was making your insides do somersaults, and he wasn’t even seeking a reward for it. This wasn’t a show, he wasn’t trying to get on your good side. No, he was trying to hide it, play it off as something else. 

“I’d way rather hear you talk about a possible future, about teaching him things as he gets older… it’s a nice change from having to explain why Ben’s dad hasn’t come to take him away for the weekend,” you finished earnestly, watching the internal battle dance behind his eyes. “I like having you around all the time, watching you play together. You’re really good with him, Buck.” 

That last statement seemed to ease enough of his fiery emotions to give you a shy smile. “I try,” he shrugged. “He’s a sweet boy, it’s hard to tell him no.” 

“I know,” you groaned, earning you another laugh that rumbled through his large frame. “Y’know, he likes you a lot. He tells me all the time that you’re his best friend.” Bucky’s face melted into a soft smile, and it made you gooey. 

“As much as I like to hear that, I want better for him,” he started, sparing a glance towards Ben’s room, as if he was watching him through the walls. Only a mother wouldn’t think that was crazy. “He deserves a best friend his age, not a 107-year-old war veteran.” The bluntness of his statement made you laugh, the mental image of the two of them – and all their many differences – making for a comical image in your head. “Don’t get me wrong, he is my best friend, and I have no shame admitting it.” 

“Oh really? Not any of your superhero friends?” You started, but he made a scrunchy face in distaste, and you did your best not to erupt into more giggles. “And what about me?” He dropped the goofy expression and looked back at you with his eyebrow raised. 

“I was reserving something else for you…” he said smoothly, the timber of his voice sending another shiver through your body. 

“And what would that be?” you asked innocently, the arms still wrapped around his neck trying to encourage him to lean in closer. Instead, Bucky’s grip on you tightened as he rose from the arm of the couch, his darkening eyes never leaving yours as he walked you backwards through your apartment, keeping you balanced as you did your best to keep your feet on the ground. 

“Mmm, I think you’ll just have to wait and see,” he hummed, your back hitting the wall of your entry way as his eyes bore into yours. “I think I’ve hit my quota on future-talk tonight,” Bucky whispered. 

He didn’t give you time to come up with a witty reply before he leaned in close and pressed his lips against yours ever so softly, one arms slinking around your waist to pull you flush to him as his other left you, but you couldn’t dedicate any thought to where it might have gone when you were running your hands through his hair and enjoying the pleased sounds it drew out of him. 

It didn’t last long, Bucky breaking the kiss after only a few sweet kisses – not nearly enough, in your opinion – giving you a shit eating grin. He whispered a goodnight, stepping back to admire the flustered state he was leaving you in before walking back towards your front door, coat already in hand. And with one last wink he was gone, the door clicking softly as he shut it gently behind him, conscious of the sleeping four year old inside the apartment. 

You didn’t know how long you sat there, bracing yourself against the wall just inside your apartment as you went over the events of the night, remembering each sweet gaze, tender touch, and absolutely tantalizing kiss he had given you. One thing was for sure; it was without a doubt the most romantic date you had ever been on. 

You took a deep breath and pushed yourself off of the wall, moving to go double-check on Ben before starting your own nightly routine. You stopped in your tracks when your phone vibrated in your pocket, your face quickly breaking into a smile when Bucky’s name appeared on the screen. 

If we’re still throwing out first date rules, I don’t have to wait three days to text you again, right? Great, I’m glad you agree. 

Thanks for reading!! If you’d like to be notified when I post a new fic, be sure to follow @writerlyhabits-library + turn on post notifications! 💛

Ugh I need some good fic recs of Bucky being winter soldier PLEASE!!! I am BEGGING 😭

Winter Flower

pairing: Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) x reader

warnings: themes of kidnapping, drugging, violence, trauma, suggestive content. mentions of pregnancy, eventual happy ending

notes: wanted to try writing something out of my comfort zone so pls let me know what you think and if you’d like to see more!

summary: fate binds you to the Winter Soldier, but will it be enough to keep you together when you’re constantly being pulled apart?

“We’ve decided to give you a new pet.”

The Winter Soldier isn’t sure what to make of the barely conscious woman that’s been carelessly thrown at his feet by his handlers, but he knows better than to ask questions by now. His handlers seem to find his predicament comical as they laugh at a joke the Asset is not a part of and watch the scene unfold with malevolent smiles.

The woman, unbeknownst to the soldier, had undergone weeks of physical torture and anguish as various Hydra doctors poked and prodded at her mind and body until there was not a single ounce of fight left in her body. She’d been battered and bruised until she was almost nothing, and in the end it had all been a complete waste of time. Their hopes for a new weapon were diminished by the discovery that her body had not taken to the serum; her brute strength and aggression had only lasted for three days before she had crashed and returned back to normal. The experiment had failed, and Hydra now looked to their prized possession to dispose of her properly.

“We will let you have your fun,” his handler had snidely remarked before slamming the door shut behind him, leaving the Winter Soldier locked in his holding cell alone with her. She hadn’t moved in the time since she’d arrived, so the man felt it necessary to firmly nudge her ribs with his boot to wake her up. He didn’t want her here, didn’t enjoy a stranger in the only space he could remotely consider his own, and he wanted this to be known.

Slowly, the failed experiment uses every ounce of strength she has left to lift her head and will herself to look up at the man tasked with terminating life. Unlike the soldier, she knows why they have thrown her in here with their deadliest killer, and the trembling of her bottom lip reveals her trepidation. He initially expects to feel disdain and disgust for this supposed pet that lies at his feet, but when her wide eyes meet his own something inside him shifts.

The Winter Soldier was never one for compassion or empathy; he was programmed to kill without remorse, to void himself of any warmth or humanity, but as he looked down at her his chest swirled with emotions he could not name. It wasn’t pity or mockery, but a compulsive need to protect her from harm the way one wishes to protect a helpless animal from awaiting predators. She is not a pet, but he decides in that moment that she will be his to look after.

Wordlessly, the soldier scoops her limp form off of the tile ground and rests her in the small cot he calls a bed. A pathetic whine of pain leaves her body at the discomfort of being moved around, causing his chest to tighten unbearably. This shouldn’t be happening, there shouldn’t be a sense of longing suffocating his entire being when he gazes upon her weakened form, and yet the man finds himself taking extra care to tuck her under the blankets.

He lets her sleep, keeping careful watch over her form like a guard dog as he seats himself in front of the metal door and basks in her presence.

The Winter Soldier had a new purpose now.

~~~

No one had expected the Asset to become so taken with you.

When the guards came to see if the Soldat had finished the job, they were stunned to find you fast asleep in his bed while he stood watch. They had tried to terminate you themselves only to be met with gruesome ends after just looking at you. The Winter Soldier was adamant that you were not going anywhere, and no one could understand why he had become so fond of you within such a short span of time.

The answer had been discovered a week later by the scientists tasked with creating the new weapon. Though your body had not taken to the physical changes of the serum, they found that it had permanently altered your inner body chemistry and DNA as a result. Your new genetic makeup had triggered something within the Winter Soldier as soon as your eyes had locked with his own, almost as if your blood spoke to his. You were bound together on a biological level by this new serum, and this bond could not be broken.

The deaths of twenty men left Hydra with no choice but to let him keep you as the ordeal was not worth losing more valuable resources than necessary. Your survival did not come without cost, however, and they made it clear that you were expected to earn your keep. The Winter Soldier’s handlers had decided that you could be quite useful in forcing the Asset to comply. The cost of any mistakes or failures were yours to pay, and the possibility of your torture or isolation from one another proved to be a good motivator for the Soldat to execute missions without flaw.

You are an unwilling prisoner in all of this, your freedom taken from under you with no regard to your autonomy, but you know that this is the best possible outcome to have happened to you. Being a pet is much better than being a weapon to abuse or a failed experiment to get rid of, and you know that no real harm can come to you under the protection of the Winter Soldier. You have no choice but to make the most of the course life has chosen for you, and so you fall into your role as his companion.

“I don’t like when you leave,” you utter quietly while making careful work of combing his hair. He is scheduled to be sent away to Italy to locate and execute a deserter known to have important Hydra files with them, and your soldier will be gone for a week. His absence is isolating, and you know that once he is gone a nurse will arrive to hold you down while the doctors drug you to prevent you from causing any problems while he is away. Your brain becomes foggier and foggier with each dosage, and as time goes on the details of your life before the Winter Soldier become hazier until you almost forget everything.

“I must,” is his gruff reply. “It will keep you safe.”

“I want to leave, too,” you whisper despondently, taking great care to ensure your words cannot be heard by anyone other than him. He stiffens, and for a moment you fear being reprimanded, but his quiet utterance in reply has you hopeful for a chance at something better.

“You will.”

~~~

You wake to a man violently grabbing you by the hair and dragging you out of bed. You kick and claw at his arm in a fruitless attempt to free yourself, but he remains unfazed as he drags you to your destination. You know these hallways well enough to know where you are going, and despite your groggy state at having just been woken up from your drug induced slumber you are aware enough to know what is about to come.

Your soldier is waiting for you when you finally arrive to his handler’s office, eyes wide with fury and helplessness as he watches the man lift you by the hair before slamming you back down onto the ground. You cry out in agony and reach for your companion only to have a heavy boot land down onto your hand. The Winter Soldier moves to attack only to have several guns pointed at him, and he is forced with no choice but to stand down and watch you take on the abuse.

“You did not comply with orders, Soldat,” the man says simply, casting an irate glance your way at the sound of your pathetic cries. “I asked you to return with those stolen files and instead you lost them. What good are they to me now?”

A swift kick is driven into your ribcage and you curl into yourself with a sob. His entire body is vibrating with anger, each blow landed only fueling his need for vengeance, and yet he cannot save you. This was the arrangement made, the only reason you were allowed to still be alive, and it was his fault that this was happening to you. A single tear slides down his face at the sound of bone cracking when you take another hit to the ribs, and just when he thinks he can’t take anymore the man raises a hand to signal the assailant to cease his abuse.

“Do not fail again, or next time she will endure worse than a broken rib.”

The guards file out until all that remains is the Winter Soldier and his battered pet that lies unmoving in the center of the room. He’s on you in an instant, hands that were built to kill being used to gently lift your broken form from the ground. Every movement sends painful jolts throughout your body that make you let out pained shrieks and cause his chest to tighten as a result. The Asset cradles you to his chest like a child would their favorite teddy bear and does his best to console you. His metal fingers gingerly comb through your hair as you sob into his chest, and his mind is frenzied with thoughts of how he could ever possibly make this better.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes into your neck, his salty tears staining your skin when he presses his face against you. “I’m sorry, my pet.”

You are a prisoner just like him, and he cannot help you when he himself is bound to Hydra forever.

~~~

A week has passed and your injuries have improved gradually overtime, though your Soldat still takes great precaution when touching you or holding you close at night. He handles you with care, and it will never cease to amaze you how a man who was created to be the perfect weapon can be so tender with a woman who would mean nothing to him if not for the serum running through her veins.

He has been gone more often as of late, assisting in the training of a new batch of soldiers. At times you worry he might take to one of them the way he did you, might abandon you in place of a new pet, but from what you have gathered from overheard conversations the scientists had fixed this issue when creating the new serum. They couldn’t risk him showing loyalty to others and chance him deciding to fight back. He was yours, and admittedly you liked it this way. Perhaps it was the constant drugs being put in your system or the isolation of being confined to this building forever, but you loved him.

“I want a name,” you tell him when he returns from a grueling day of training. He looks at you almost puzzled as he removes his tactical clothing in preparation for a shower.

“Name?” He repeats with furrowed brows, planting himself in front of where you sit on the edge of the bed. You open your legs to allow him refuge in between them and hum in approval when he reaches down to gently run his metal fingers along the lines of your jaw.

“I don’t remember mine anymore, or anything before I came here, not completely. I need a name now.”

The Winter Soldier had never stopped to consider these details before you’d brought them to his attention; he didn’t know anything about himself, and he’d forgotten that this was considered abnormal. You had a life before him, an identity, and yet he’d never stopped to try and ask you.

“цветок.” You tilt your head in confusion and he smiles, a rare laugh escaping him as he explains, “Flower.”

He bends forward to press a kiss to the crown of your head, and in that moment you decide you like your new name.

You prefer being his Flower over his Pet, and you make sure to express your gratitude for this change when joining him in the shower.

~~~

Your privileges, while not many, have increased with your time spent as the Winter Soldier’s companion. You aid Hydra in keeping the man in line and ensuring optimal execution on missions, and your permanent bond to him means you never once have tried to escape in his absence. Thus, they felt it appropriate that you finally be able to leave the four walls of your bedroom.

You now have the ability to follow the soldier once a week to training, and you accompany one another to doctor’s visits rather than having them send the physician to you. So long as neither of you screw up, you can continue this routine of leaving your confinement to enjoy a small taste of freedom.

One of your new privileges is the responsibility of grooming the Winter Solider. Now that you can fully be trusted around sharp objects, you can trim his hair and shave his face while he sits back and enjoys how sweetly you fawn over him. Hydra had lost several workers to this task as one accidental tug of hair or cut to his chin could cost them their life, so this was one job they were happy to rid themselves of.

His blue eyes stare intensely up at your scrunched features as you carefully frame the pieces around his face. You work with practiced ease like you’ve done this before, and maybe you have, but there’s no way for either of you to find that out now. Your tongue pokes out discreetly from between your lips while you trim his ends, and the soldier envisions pulling you into his lap then and there to steal a kiss. He’d never do so in front of watchful eyes such as those of the guard who supervise your activity, it’s too intimate and he refuses to share you in such a way, but it brings him solace to envision a word where he can love you without inhibition or fear of putting you in harm’s way.

“I wish they would let you keep it long,” you hum thoughtfully, voice followed by the quiet snipping of the scissors.

“Not good for missions, Flower,” he reminds you before allowing his eyes to flutter shut at the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair.

“You’re leaving again?”

“Not for long,” the man consoles, flesh hand coming to rest on your thigh before giving it a comforting squeeze. “Hydra says I must complete this one last task, and then we both will go to sleep.”

“Sleep?” You repeat hesitantly, pausing your ministrations to meet his steely gaze. His silence has you unnerved, and you return to your previous work in order to distract yourself from the nerves that begin to settle into the pit of your stomach. “Winter, I don’t want to-“

“It is an order, so we must,” he interrupts. He doesn’t mean to be harsh, but he needs you to understand that even with these new freedoms you are still under Hydra’s commands. He cannot risk you becoming bold, becoming defiant, because he knows better than anyone what Hydra does to those who step out of line. He will not have that for you, and he would rather you understand to comply now than have it beat into you later.

You set the scissors down and step back to admire your work. His blue eyes follow your every move as you begin to clean up the mess, and his chest tightens with yearning as he pictures a life of normalcy. If he tries hard enough, he can pretend that you are a normal couple living a regular life- you’re with him because you love him and not because your biology had been programmed to yearn for him only, and your trimming of his hair is an act of love rather than a necessity forced upon him by his handlers. You’ll never know just how much it pains him to know you will never truly be his, and it is his fault you have been subjected to this life.

“Winter,” you call out gently, breaking the man from his obvious turmoil. You say his name so gently, different from what he is used to. His lips barely quirk into a smile, and for you that is a win. “I love you.”

Placing his metal hand on the back of your neck, he carefully pulls you closer so that your foreheads are pressed together. You can feel the gentle fanning of his breath on your face as his nose gently brushes against your own and inhales your scent. One day he will free you from this cage, even if it is at his own expensive.

“I love you.”

~~~

Your Winter returns to you in shambles and it scares you.

You’ve never seen him so frenzied, so unsure of himself and the world around him. His eyes are welled with tears, and he’s on you the moment he spots you, nearly yanking you out of bed as he pulls you impossibly tight to his chest and begins to comb his fingers through your hair.

“Winter?” You whisper meekly while scrambling to find purchase in his hold. You feel his hot tears trickle down onto your neck and the tremble of his hands as they splay across your back, but his hold never relinquishes.

“There was a man,” he shakily whispers into your hair, faltering to swallow the rising bile in his throat, “a man on a bridge.”

“What happened?”

“I knew him,” he whispers agonizingly, the turmoil evident in his tone. His shoulders tremble with each sob he fights to hold back, but the feel of your fingers gently rubbing circles into shoulders allows him the strength to continue. “He called me- he called me Bucky.”

Your features contort into a frown as you hold the sobbing man impossibly tight. You know just how difficult it is to have no semblance of your past or your identity before Hydra, but you can’t imagine just how awful it is to be given a piece of the puzzle only to have nowhere to place it. You want to help him but you don’t know how, and it pains you to be so useless.

“I think he knew you, too,” you reassure him quietly in case of any prying ears. “Maybe Bucky is your name, and this man is a friend. Maybe… maybe he can help us.”

The soldier stiffens at your words, carefully pulling himself out of your grasp to meet your gaze. You fear that perhaps you’ve misspoken and angered your companion, but once you see the rare glimpse of hope shining through his tears you realize your words have struck a chord within him.

With feverish movements he pulls your body back to him and slams his lips onto your own, swallowing your startled gasp and pushing you back towards the mattress. You accept him willingly and without complaint; you let him take you over and over again to the point of exhaustion until neither of you can hold yourselves up any longer. He worships you, comforts you, ensures to you that he will take this new lead and run with it until he can gain your freedom. His mission has always been you, and you trust him with your entire being to complete it.

They come for him hours later. The door to your room slams open, and two guards stand on the other side. Despite your entangled limbs and state of undress, you know well enough to immediately move yourself out of the way by pressing yourself as far back into the corner of the wall as possible. They grab him roughly by the arms before dragging him out of bed, and you watch helplessly from behind the cover of the sheets as he is taken from you once more. Despite the roughness in which they handle him, his eyes remain gentle as they look upon you fondly, and your heart sinks in your stomach when you note how differently this gaze feels. The door shuts harshly behind him, and a part of you fears that the look on his face wasn’t an expression of love.

It was his way of saying goodbye.

~~~

You haven’t seen your Winter in three weeks, and no one has come to check on you in five days.

You feel like you’re losing your sanity with each second that passes- you never thought you’d miss the interactions that came with your daily injections or the physical touch of the nurse holding you down. You’re thirsty, starving, dirty, delirious, and spiraling in your isolation. What could have happened to make them abandon the Winter Soldier’s pet? What could have happened to make him abandon you? Maybe he’s dead, or maybe he had never truly cared about you enough to get you out of this place, and you’re not sure which is worse.

You think you’re dreaming at first when the door to your prison slowly begins to creak open, and the sudden downpour of light is so blinding you can barely make out the figure standing before you. You whine and tightly shut your eyes, but you’re still able to hear the careful footsteps that approach you as if you’re a scared animal who might bite at any sudden movements.

“I’ve got something,” the feminine voice murmurs. “East Wing, last door to the right. They left someone behind.”

You attempt to open your eyes again and are met with the kind features of a woman. She offers you a comforting smile and attempts to reach for you only to flinch, but she’s quick to immediately retract her hands and hold them up in surrender. It’s clear she doesn’t want to scare you, but your bouts of torture and mental scarring don’t allow you to trust so easily. The Hydra nurses had often smiled at you the same way before strapping you down and aiding in your torment.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she coaxes softly, “I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Are you with Hydra?”

She shakes her head. “My name is Natasha, and I’m an Avenger. My friends and I are here to help you. Can you tell me your name?”

The name strikes a chord within you, but it isn’t impactful enough for you to truly grasp her importance or bring recognition to your mind. It is enough, however, for her to gain your trust and answer her with a quiet utterance of the word, “Flower.”

She hums thoughtfully before extending her hand to you again, and this time you take it without trepidation. Natasha slowly helps you to your feet, but your lack of nutrition and dehydrated state causes you to keel over immediately. The woman catches you in her arms and keeps you upright by allowing you to lean against her, but there’s evident worry on her features now that she fully knows the extent of your physical state. You appear weak and frail, delirious, and she hates to even think about what has happened to you during your stay at the Hydra base.

“Nat,” a new voice calls, and you muster up enough strength to lift your head and lock eyes with the man in the doorway. His features are kind and his eyes blue like your Winter’s, and his build nearly takes up the entire frame. His brows are etched with concern once they catch sight of you, and he’s quick to assist Natasha in guiding you out of the room.

“Flower, this is Steve,” she introduces in a hushed tone, “can he pick you up so we can get out of here faster?”

“I can’t leave,” you murmur hoarsely, eyes beginning to well with tears.

“It’s okay, no one is going to hurt you now if you leave,” she tries to assure you only for you to vehemently shake your head.

“If I leave he won’t know where I am o-or how to find me.”

“Who won’t know?” Steve presses gently, catching your figure as you stumble into his grasp before bursting into a fit of sobs.

“Winter,” you choke, too lost in your crying fit to note the way Steve’s body stiffens at the mention of the man. He shares an uneasy glance with Natasha before composing himself and offering you comfort through the careful rubbing of your back. Your cries echo throughout the abandoned Hydra base and send chills through the Captain’s spine.

He isn’t sure what the next step is or what to even make of this situation. They had been sent here to explore the Hydra base in search of any remaining personnel or files after the aftermath of Pierce, and while he had hoped to find some trace of Bucky he hadn’t been prepared for a battered woman to be the only link left to his missing friend.

Carefully lifting your frail body off the ground and into his arms, Steve trails closely behind Natasha as the two make their exit. You’re an inconsolable mess, but Steve does his best to offer the only words he can think of.

“We’ll find him, I promise.”

You never thought you’d ever get to see the sunlight again, but when Steve carries you over the threshold of the base and out into the open world you find yourself being blinded by its brightness. The feel of fresh air is jarring, its warmth kissing your skin as you are carried into their awaiting jet and set on the softest gurney you’ve ever been on. A multitude of voices surround you, but you can’t seem to focus on anything but the simple fact that no longer are you a prisoner to Hydra and their abuse.

You are free.

~~~

It took hours for Natasha to settle you so Bruce could properly examine you, but no one could blame you for your aversion to doctors and fear of needles. No one had ever been as patient or kind with you as they had been during the process of running blood tests, conducting a psychological profile, and settling you in with an IV to get you hydrated again. You clung to the Black Widow like a lifeline, but she never once seemed to mind. You almost got the impression that she understood the horrors that you’d been through, and that was enough for you to put your entire trust in her.

While your tests are being conducted, Tony and Steve sit in the intelligence room staring at the profile before them on the screen. Your innocent face stares back at the two men, a stark contrast to the woman who sits in the exam room with Banner and Romanoff. Your face is youthful and full of life, and the longer Steve stares at your photo the more the knot in his stomach twists.

“Her name is y/n y/l/n. She was a hairstylist in Manhattan before she was declared missing,” Tony reads along solemnly.

“Does she have any family we can contact?” Steve asks only for his counterpart to shake his head dejectedly.

“Parents passed away when she was in college and there’s no immediate family left. Hydra knew what they were doing when they picked her for their program.”

Sighing, Steve pinches the bridge of his nose in rumination before leaning in back into his chair. He felt a sense of responsibility when it came to your wellbeing; though he didn’t know the exact nature of your relationship with Bucky, he knew you must have been important to him considering how worried you were about him finding you, and that mean you were important to Steve now too. But there was so little to work with when it came to helping you enter back into the real world again, and who knew how long it would take for you to reacclimatize to your newfound freedom.

“This poor girl was tortured for who knows how long. If I could have found her sooner-“

“Hey, don’t do that to yourself,” Tony interrupts with a deep frown, “that doesn’t help anyone. We have her here now, and we’re going to get her the best treatment money can buy to help her get through all of this.”

Before Steve can reply, the two men are interrupted by the presence of Dr. Banner who holds a folder of tests results in his hands. The Captain is on his feet immediately, looking at Bruce expectantly with bated breath as he waits for the prognosis.

“As we suspected, there is super soldier serum running through her veins. However, it appears dormant since she showed no signs of increased strength or aggression or any other possible abilities. We’re not sure what effect it has on her, but I think she should be able to live a relatively normal life despite it being active in her system.”

“You couldn’t remove it?” Tony questions.

“She didn’t want me to. She said it’s what keeps her connected to Barnes, what kept him from killing her when Hydra dumped her on him.”

“I didn’t know that was possible,” Steve murmurs quietly. “Will she be okay?”

“Well, it’s going to take some time for her to psychologically recover from the torture and the isolation she endured, but there is a good chance her memories can be restored with time as well. Physically I’d say she’ll recover, and I’ll ask again when she’s in a better mental state about removing the serum, but…”

The hesitation in his voice is clear, prompting Tony and Steve to exchange uneasy glances before urging him to go on.

“What is it, Bruce?” Tony presses. Sighing, Banner adjusts the frames of his glasses and looks between the two men before landing his eyes on your holographic picture. He doesn’t want to voice the reality of the situation, but he knows he must if they want to help you.

Finally, he replies, “She’s pregnant.”

The room becomes deafly silent as the doctor’s words hang in the air, and it feels like ages before Steve finally works up the nerve to speak.

“Pregnant?” He nearly gawks in astonishment, clearly not believing the words he’s hearing.

“The blood tests and an ultrasound both came up conclusive,” Bruce confirms solemnly.

“And the father?” Steve hesitates to ask.

“Based on the details she shared with Nat, I think it’s safe to say that Barnes is the father.”

“So you’re telling me this woman is carrying a baby super soldier?” Tony questions bluntly much to Steve’s chagrin.

“It would be appear that way, yes,” Bruce replies almost annoyed at Tony’s poor choice of words.

“Is it safe?”

“I can’t say for sure, but I think the serum running through her veins increases her chances of survival and the possibility of a relatively normal pregnancy. We’ll just have to keep an eye on her in the meantime and hope for the best.”

“Well, Rogers, it looks like you’re going to be an Uncle,” Tony congratulates with a hearty clap to his back in an attempt to lighten the mood. Though Steve doesn’t exactly appreciate the jokes, his nerves are somewhat put at ease when he continues, “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she gets everything she needs for the super tyke.”

It seems that finding Bucky is more important now than ever, and Steve is determined to do whatever it takes to reunite you with the man you love.

No matter the cost.

~~~

It’s been two months since you were freed from Hydra’s prison, but sometimes it only feels like just yesterday you’d been tangled in the sheets with your lover planning your escape. Should you even call him that? You’re not sure anymore. Your new therapist had affirmed you were an unwilling participant in all that had happened to you, but so was he, and he had taken care of you as best as he could given the circumstances you found yourselves in. You think you do love him even if she says you’d only forced yourself to feel that way as a means to survive.

Along with a new therapist, you’d been given all the resources possible to start your life over. Despite their insistence that you were welcome to stay at the Avenger’s compound while you healed, you were adamant about wanting the autonomy that came with having your own apartment. You wanted to learn to be your own person again, to live in your own space by your own schedule, so Tony had helped you find the perfect apartment in a quiet part of town.

Steve visited nearly every day to ensure you and the baby were doing alright considering he felt you were his responsibility now in Bucky’s absence. No leads have been found yet on the whereabouts of the Winter Soldier, but he is doing his damndest to find Bucky by all means. Natasha stops by every once and while when Steve cannot, offering you company and support during your transitional period.

Your body has healed from the grueling abuse you’d endured, but it’s taking your mind a little longer to catch up. You remember your name now, your real name, and vague remnants of your past, but it isn’t enough for you to complete the full picture. Bruce says it will take some time for you to regain your memories, but you’re not oblivious to the possibility that your mind might not ever be fully restored.

Natasha had accompanied you to another ultrasound appointment to check on the health of the baby and your own before taking you grocery shopping. The doctors say you’re almost three months along with a perfectly healthy baby, and Nat had cooed sweetly at the grainy image displayed for you both on the screen. You never knew how exactly to feel every time they showed you the baby- you didn’t hate it or detest the fact that you were pregnant, but the circumstances in which it had all occurred certainly weren’t ideal, and it served as a reminder that you would be going into this alone.

Once you were coherent enough, Steve had sat you down and carefully explained that your Winter once went by the name of James Barnes, though most people just called him Bucky. He told you of their friendship and how he had thought him to be dead all these years until the incident on the bridge, and he assured you he was doing everything in his power to bring you both together again. Of course, that had been a month ago, and Bucky was nowhere to be seen. It pained you to know that he wouldn’t be here to experience any milestones with you, to see his child grow inside you, to hold them and love them and enjoy his chance at having a family. You were supposed to start a new life together, but instead you and your little one are all alone.

You step out of the elevator and head towards your apartment with an arm full of groceries after finally making the trip home. Natasha had offered to help you bring them up, but you insisted you’d be fine on your own. You look forward to the hearty soup you plan to make for dinner and to frame the latest ultrasound on your fridge, and you don’t mind the fact that most days you dine alone. You’ve learned to get used to solitude once more, though it helps when it’s out of your own volition and not because you’ve been locked away in your own personal prison cell.

The apartment is quiet and untouched when you enter and hang your keys on the wall, but it’s only once you make it to the kitchen that you realize there is an intruder standing in your home. Your newly bought groceries fall to the floor with a deafening thud, fruits and vegetables scattering everywhere as you stare at the familiar pair of blue eyes that pierce straight through you. His hair has gotten longer again and his features are covered in stubble, but you know it is him.

“Winter?” You whisper in a trembling voice, afraid that if you speak any louder he might just disappear.

“Flower,” he breathes out, and before you can even blink he’s on you in an instant. Your frame is lifted from the ground when he picks you up in a bone crushing hug, one hand wrapped around your midsection while the other cradles the back of your head. He breathes in your scent as you nestle your face into the crook of his neck and begin to sob with the amalgamation of emotions within you. You missed him terribly, but you hated him for abandoning you and for loving you so much that Hydra had decided you were too valuable a resource to lose, and yet you were so relieved to see him alive and breathing in your little apartment.

“You left me,” you sob into his neck which prompts him to tighten his hold on you in response. “You promised you’d come back.”

“I could never leave you,” he hushes you, trembling lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “I could never ever leave you. I tried to come back for you but you were gone, and I couldn’t risk coming near you with the Avengers around or else they might take me away from you.”

“They wouldn’t do that, Steve has been looking for you. He promised we’d get to be together.”

“That isn’t his promise to make,” the man utters solemnly, finally relinquishing his hold on you so he can step back and admire your beautiful tear stained face. You look so different from the last time he’d seen you; your face was fuller and brighter, and the length of your hair had changed, but you were still just as beautiful as ever. “Flower-“

“Y/n,” you interrupt him. He falters at the name and furrows his brows in confusion until you clarify, “my real name is y/n. And yours is James, but Steve calls you Bucky.”

A look of recognition washes over his features and he nods. “We were… friends.”

“Steve can help us,” you attempt to reassure him again, but Bucky is not so easily convinced.

“No, no, I can’t… I can’t stay here. Many people want me dead, so it’s better to just disappear.”

“Disappear?” You blanch, already feeling the panic beginning to bubble within you. Your hands begin to tremble and you take a step away from him as you desperately try to process his words. “No, you can’t- you can’t leave me again!”

“I came here to say goodbye,” he admits solemnly before gently taking your shaky hands in his own. “You deserve to have a life without me in it.”

“I don’t want that!” You insist through tears only for him to shush you.

“My Flower, the serum bound us together, but it doesn’t mean that I have the right to ruin your chance at freedom. There is no future with me, a life on the run is not what you deserve. I will not put you through torment again. I-“

“I’m pregnant,” you finally blurt to get him to shut up. His wide eyes and stunned silence prove that your methods are effective. You feel his hold on you tighten as he takes a pensive swallow and slowly looks you up and down.

“Pregnant?” He repeats quietly in disbelief.

“I’m pregnant, and that means I do deserve a life with you in it. I deserve to raise our baby with you, to have you by my side. Please don’t leave me again.”

Tears steadily fall down your cheeks, and Bucky is quick to cup your face in his hands so that he may wipe them away. The apartment is quiet as he soaks up the news he’s just been given. He once thought he’d spend the rest of his life a slave to Hydra with nothing to lose and nothing to keep, but then he’d met you and everything had changed. You were his mission, his reason to fight, and now so was this baby. The answer is clear right in front of him, so he takes it.

“Pack a bag,” he urges you gently. “Pack a bag so we can leave and start over somewhere else together.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at his insistence, but you don’t think twice about scurrying off to your room and gathering whatever items will fit in your bag. You did want a new life, a fresh start, but no apartment in New York would fill the hole within you caused by Bucky’s absence if he left you behind. You are grateful to the Avengers, to all they have done for you, but Bucky is right. Your chance at a happy life is not their promise to make.

You leave a note for Natasha and Steve to find explaining that you are safe and will be okay on your own, that they don’t have to look for you and can rest assured knowing you are perfectly happy wherever it is you are. You thank them for everything and leave behind the keys to your apartment, taking one last look at the place before following Bucky to his getaway vehicle.

“Where will we go?”

He rests a comforting hand on your thigh and gives it a gentle squeeze before meeting your gaze. The hopeful glimmer in your eyes fills his heart with warmth and only further fuels his need to protect you and ensure your happiness. He hopes he’s doing the right thing by bringing you along with him.

“Romania,” he finally answers. “I think you’ll like it there.”

~~~

The soft cries from the bassinet rouse you from your slumber, but Bucky is gently pushing you back into bed before you can even remove the covers.

“I got it,” he murmurs hoarsely, sleep still evident in his voice when he speaks. The sun is barely beginning to rise as its warmth seeps through the curtains, and you comfortably stretch yourself awake in bed as Bucky brings the mewling infant to your awaiting embrace. “Hungry again.”

“It feels like she always is,” you jest with a fond smile while lifting your shift and allowing the infant to nurse. Bucky presses a kiss to your temple and repeats the act to your child before retreating into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee for the start of your day.

Your life in Bucharest has been relatively quiet for the past year. As Bucky had promised, you’d made a fresh start in a new home for yourself, a home of your choosing where you could live in peace with your daughter and without worry of anyone finding your hidden paradise. Time had helped heal you both, and though there was still much progress to be made, becoming parents had softened you both and given you all the more motivation to be better versions of yourselves for your daughter.

Natalia Rose Barnes had been born eight months ago in a small hospital room and was deemed perfectly healthy despite your initial concerns of how the serum might affect her growth. She was the most beautiful little creature Bucky had ever seen, and his heart had bursted with pride when you’d handed her to him for the first time. He never once thought it possible for him to have a family, to take part of the creation of something so innocent and sweet after years of atrocities committed by his own hands, and yet here he was watching her tiny hand wrap tightly around his metal fingers.

Your days consisted of staying home to take care of Rosie while Bucky completed odd jobs around Bucharest to earn money. You practiced journaling often to keep track of old memories that would resurface with time to allow you to continue piecing your life together, and Bucky did the same. The thought of the Winter Soldier reawakening always lingered at the back of his mind, but he made it his mission that he would never show that part of himself to your daughter or to you ever again. You were no longer Winter and Flower but Bucky and y/n, and he was determined to keep it that way at all costs.

“I have to go out into town for groceries today,” he informs you whilst holding the cup of coffee to your lips and allowing you to take a drink. “Rose needs diapers, and we’re out of plums.”

You hum thoughtfully in response and reply, “If there is enough money leftover can you stop at the bakery for muffins?”

“Of course,” Bucky replies with a gentle grin, gently brushing his knuckles against your chin. “Anything you want.”

“I think Rosie and I will go for a walk in the park today,” you tell him. “Maybe you can join us once you’re done and we can walk home together.”

“I’d like that,” he affirms. You know how paranoid Bucky gets when you and Rose are alone, especially when it’s out in public, but he tries not to restrict your freedom too much and allows you to do certain things on your own.

You both prepare separately for your days and accompany one another out of the apartment. Bucky assists you in setting up the stroller and strapping a sleeping Rose in her seat, and he gives you a tender kiss before parting ways with you. The day is bright and beautiful, and your heart is content as you walk through the streets of Bucharest and to the local park.

You don’t have any friends or family in Romania, so you appreciate the friendliness of locals that greet you in passing or simply offer a smile your way. Many people especially like to stop and fawn over Natalia, so your guard is down when a woman seats herself next to you on the park bench and interrupts your journaling by cooing at your daughter.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Thank you, I-“ you begin to say only to freeze once you look up from your writing to acknowledge the stranger. She gives you a pointed look, but her smile is playful as she watches you process her presence before you. “Natasha?!”

“You’re hard to find, you know,” she quips with a raised brow, but she isn’t given a reply when you instead choose to throw yourself into her arms and hold her impossibly tight.

“I-I can’t believe you’re here,” you breathe in disbelief, eyes welling with tears at the comfort that comes with seeing a familiar face.

“I can’t believe you already had the baby,” she replies before pulling out of your hold to take in your face. “Are you alright? Banner was worried it might be hard on you because of the serum.”

“It was perfectly safe, Rose and I made it out fine.”

“Rose?” Natasha repeats before casting her gaze to the cooing baby sitting in the stroller.

“Well, her middle name is Rose, but her first name is Natalia,” you correct with a sheepish smile after seeing the way Natasha looks at you in surprise. “I wanted to name her after someone important, and after everything you did for me it only felt right.”

“I’m… honored,” she expresses, still getting over the initial shock. A new emotion flashes across her face for a split second before becoming unreadable again, but you detect the change before she can hide it.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that without asking you first,” You immediately jump to apologize in fear of upsetting her. You’d been so excited to see her you hadn’t even considered the fact she might be irritated with you for leaving without a trace and not bothering to reach out with your new location.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… well, it makes this next part a little harder,” she admits mournfully, taking in the way your eyes widen slightly and lips begin to pull into a frown at her sudden change in demeanor. “As much as I wish I could say I’m here for a friendly visit, I’m actually here to bring you in for questioning.”

“What?” You gape in quiet bewilderment. You can already feel the unease beginning to grow at her serious tone, and your mind is racing with possibilities of what you could possibly be in trouble for.

“A bomb was recently planted at the Vienna International Centre and killed several UN representatives including King T’Chaka of Wakanda. Security footage revealed that the person responsible for this was Barnes.”

“That’s… that’s impossible!” You immediately argue, mind scrambling to catch up with the news Natasha has just dumped on you. Your heart is racing in your chest and body beginning to feel the oncomings of a panic attack when you realize your peaceful little life in Bucharest has been abruptly ended by a false accusation. “He couldn’t have done that, we’ve been together almost every day with Rosie.”

“They have him on camera, y/n. My hands are tied. I’ve been asked to bring you in because of your connection to Barnes, but if you can honestly say he’s been with you here in Bucharest this entire time then that might help him out. Steve and Sam should be with him right now.”

You can almost feel the hope draining out of you as you process the fact that the life you’d built for yourself was crashing down all around you. No matter how far you run, the past continues to catch up to you both. Bucky isn’t the Winter Soldier anymore, he’s trying to be better, and you wish others could see him for who he is rather than for what he has done.

“I’ll go with you if you promise they won’t take Rosie away from me,” you urge her. Natasha frowns.

“I can’t promise that, but I can promise that no matter what happens she’ll be safe. Can you trust me on that?”

You do, and that’s why you follow her willingly to Berlin for questioning. Bucky is already there when you arrive, and your heart breaks when you see how they have chosen to restrain him. His eyes are filled with sorrow at the sight of you and Rosie being escorted to a separate room, and he wants nothing more than to be there for you both, but he can do nothing as you are taken from him once again.

The prime focus is on Bucky, so you sit alone in the interrogation room for some time before the door finally opens and Steve enters. He has a tired smile on his face meant to hold up his facade while he hands you a glass of water.

“I thought you might need this,” he offers before taking a seat across from you.

“Are you here to question me?”

“No, I’m here as a friend. I don’t think you should be locked away in a room like this on your own.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” you offer bluntly. You don’t mean to be crass, but you’re beginning to become fed up with constantly having your life uprooted without any consideration of your feelings or autonomy. You didn’t choose this life for yourself or plan for it to be this way, yet it seemed you were always being punished for loving a tortured man who was trying to do better.

Despite your brashness, the air is void of tension and instead filled with the happy babbles of Rosie who continuously tries to reach across the table for Steve. She has Bucky’s eyes and his smile, and Steve feels a sense of protectiveness wash over him every time he looks at her. He has a duty to you and to Rosie to help prove Bucky’s innocence, and he hopes you’ll be able to see that he is on your side no matter what.

“Would you like to hold her?” You ask him after noting the way he eyes her so intently. He happily obliges, and you’re filled with a sense of ease to see your baby being coddled by Captain America. At the very least Rosie has a super powered support system, and this fact helps alleviate some of your stress.

“She’s gorgeous,” Steve compliments, allowing the girl to press her hands against his face in exploration. “This is all I ever wanted for Bucky. A chance to have the life that was taken from him, to start a family with a nice girl who loved him despite all he’s endured. I just wish it could have happened differently.”

“I know,” you reply solemnly before casting your gaze to your hands resting in your lap in order to hide your welling tears. “I do too.”

Steve opens his mouth to reply only to be interrupted by the blaring sounds of an alarm. The interrogation room is coated in red, and Rosie begins to shriek at the assaulting noise. You look to Steve with wide and fearful eyes when he quickly rises from his seat and hands you back your daughter. The alarms are reminiscent of the ones at the Hydra base, and it takes everything in you not to fall apart for the sake of your baby. Steve rests a gentle hand on your shoulder and provides you a reassuring squeeze before instructing you to stay put.

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” he avows before bolting out of the room. Your breathing comes in quick gasps as you press yourself to the furtherest corner of the wall and slowly sink to the floor with a crying Rosie to the floor. Your mind attempts to retrieve the therapeutic techniques you’d been taught to help you deal with such episodes, but none of them come to fruition fast enough for you to settle. You feel like you can’t breathe, and the blaring alarm has turned into a distant ringing as you curl in on yourself with the baby pressed tightly to your chest.

You don’t know long you’re stuck waiting in that room, unable to differentiate between minutes or hours, but you’re finally freed from your prison when the door swings open and Natasha rushes to your side.

“We gotta go,” she urges you whilst helping your trembling figure off the ground.

“Natasha, what’s going on?! Where’s Bucky?!” Your press for information falls on deaf ears as she uses one arm to keep you close to her form while the other holds out her gun for potential attacks. “We can’t leave him!”

“Someone activated the Winter Soldier,” she finally answers you after ensuring the area is secure and urging you forward. “It’s not safe for you or the baby.”

“No…” you breathe out before stopping in your tracks, “no, that’s not right.”

“Y/n, we don’t have time-“

“He wouldn’t hurt me, Natasha. The serum, it-“

“I’m not taking any chances,” she states adamantly before forcing you along with her to the exit. You can only stumble after her quick pace and follow her to safety while Bucky wreaks havoc on the building. The next few moments are a blur once you’re shoved into the back of a military van and sped off to a secondary location. The building grows further and further away, separating you and Bucky once more.

~~~

A warm breeze brushes through the grass around you, serene and comforting while you stare pensively at the lake before you. You’d sat at a lake like this once years ago with your parents when they were still alive, and it brought you the same comfort then that it did now. The world is calm here in your bubble, and you think you can finally breathe.

Rosie sits a few feet away from you in the grass playing with two of the local girls from the nearby village. The children adore your toddler and flock to visit her nearly everyday, but you don’t mind. This is what you had always wanted for her, to see her play with other children and know a world of peace where no harm could come to her. This was the most relatively normal childhood she could have, and you were grateful to be here in Wakanda.

After the Winter Soldier had been activated that fateful day, Natasha had stashed you and Rosie into a safe house while she dealt with the aftermath. Days passed before Steve finally came to get you, and you were promptly taken to be reunited with Bucky in Wakanda where T’Challa had granted you both asylum. They would work to erase his programming while you were there, and you would get to raise Rosie without the fear of having to up and leave at a moment’s notice. You’ll be forever indebted to the King for his kindness towards your family, and you truly think this could be the end of all your worries.

Your rumination is interrupted by the shifting of the grass when a new presence joins your side, and almost by instinct do you immediately lean into his side and rest your head upon his shoulder. You sometimes still expect to feel the sensation of cool metal against your cheek, but his appendage is gone now along with the Winter Soldier. Time has healed your husband, and there is no chance of anyone using him as a weapon now.

“I never thought life could be like this,” he voices aloud, a small smile forming on his lips at the sound of Rosie’s echoing laughter.

“It’s nice here,” you agree quietly. “Peaceful. We don’t have to run anymore.”

There’s a pause of silence following your words before he speaks again. “I don’t think I ever thanked you.”

His comment has you turning to look at him in puzzlement, your brows furrowing with uncertainty at what he’s trying to convey.

“Thanked me?”

He nods before shifting his gaze to you. His face is melancholic and full of sincerity when he reaches for your hand to take in his own. His eyes are swimming with devotion and admiration, and it has your stomach doing a nervous flip at the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“For giving me this second chance, for giving me a family. Hydra brought our paths together and the serum bonded us to one another, but Banner could have removed it from your system so you could live a normal life in Manhattan without a connection to me. You refused it. And when I returned you followed me to Romania despite me trying to set you free. You loved me anyway despite all you’d been through with me, you never gave up on me. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

You smile up at him with complete adoration and devotion before resting a hand upon his cheek. He immediately melts at your touch, eyes fluttering shut as he releases a relaxed breath and savors the feel of your palm against his skin.

“You’ll never have to thank me for that,” you assure him with complete sincerity. “I will love you for the rest of my life with or without some stupid serum. We came into each other’s lives for a reason, and this is it.”

You pull him towards you for a passionate kiss that both of you ensure to savor before returning your gazes to the landscape before you. The sun sparkles on the water while the wind rustles through grass, and Rosie begins to make her clumsy ascent towards you both with hands outstretched for her father. Bucky is quick to pull her into his chest and hold her securely in his lap as your little family enjoys a peaceful afternoon in Wakanda.

Life is still and perfect, and for now you can continue to remain in your peaceful bubble blissfully unaware of the dangers yet to come.

I love Bucky 🥰

The Soldier and His Mission

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1K

Summary: When a trigger sends Bucky back into the grip of the Winter Soldier, he shadows you with an unyielding protectiveness that leaves the team on edge, though he doesn't harm anyone. After days of tension and careful steps, Bucky finally breaks through the icy barrier, returning to himself in a quiet, tender moment, finding solace in your presence.

You should’ve known something was wrong the moment Bucky went still.

One second, the mission was wrapping up—just another Hydra facility wiped off the map, just another set of goons taken down. The next, something triggered him. A phrase muttered in Russian over a radio, the faintest crackle of a long-dead handler’s voice. You saw the shift in his posture before he even turned around, the telltale tightening of his jaw, the blankness overtaking those usually warm blue eyes.

Bucky Barnes was gone.

The Winter Soldier stood in his place.

And yet—he didn’t hurt you.

Not when he turned to face the team, his body language bristling with danger. Not when Steve hesitated before stepping forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture. And certainly not when you cautiously called his name, your voice softer than the others.

Instead, the Soldier moved between you and everyone else.

A shield.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Back at the Tower, you thought the episode would pass. That maybe, after a few hours, after enough familiar sights and sounds, Bucky would shake it off like he always did.

But the Soldier wasn’t leaving. And he had decided you were his mission.

Not to eliminate.

To protect.

At first, it was just hovering. You moved—he followed. You sat—he stood at your back, ever watchful. The others gave him space, exchanging worried glances when they thought you weren’t looking. Steve was tense, obviously trying to figure out how to break through, while Tony was less patient about it.

“This is a problem,” Stark declared after the first few hours, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter. “I mean, I hate to be the one to say it, but we have a fully armed, brainwashed assassin in the Tower again, and we all know how that went last time.”

“He’s not attacking anyone,” Natasha pointed out.

“Yet,” Tony shot back.

You ignored the argument as best you could, focusing instead on cooking something for Bucky—something normal, something familiar, something that might ground him. His eyes tracked you the entire time.

Then you miscalculated the heat on the stove.

The oil in the pan hissed and spat, and a second later, you hissed too as a sharp sting bloomed across your palm. You barely had time to react before there was a sudden blur of motion.

Bucky was on you instantly.

His flesh hand gripped your wrist, his metal one hovering protectively over the stove, as if it had personally attacked you. His face was unreadable, but his grip was firm, his hold gentle as he examined the burn.

“I’m okay,” you assured him, but he wasn’t listening.

Instead, he took the cold pack you hadn’t even reached for yet and pressed it carefully to your palm, his jaw tight, his brows furrowed in focus. You exchanged a look with Steve over Bucky’s shoulder, and the Captain exhaled, something like relief flashing in his eyes.

He was still in there.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The Soldier continued shadowing you for the next two days, much to Tony’s frustration. But as Natasha had pointed out—he wasn’t hurting anyone.

Unless they posed a threat to you.

That was something Steve learned firsthand during a sparring session. You had barely landed a hit before Bucky, watching from the sidelines, had moved. The next thing you knew, Steve was on his ass, blinking up at the ceiling, while Bucky stood between you like a human wall, eyes cold and calculating.

“For the record,” Steve grunted as he sat up, rubbing his ribs, “I was letting her win.”

Bucky wasn’t convinced.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It wasn’t until you needed a medical checkup that things really came to a head.

“Barnes, I have to actually examine her,” Dr. Cho said patiently, eyeing where Bucky stood between you and the med bay’s equipment.

“No,” he replied flatly.

“Bucky—” you tried.

“The room is secure.”

“That’s not the—”

“She does not require assistance.”

“I do require assistance,” you corrected. “Because I burned my hand and twisted my shoulder thanks to a certain super soldier overreacting in the gym.”

Bucky didn’t move.

You exhaled slowly.

“Okay,” you said, shifting tactics. “Then stay.”

That got his attention.

“If you want to make sure nothing happens to me,” you reasoned, “then you can stay here. But you have to let the doctor check me out.”

His expression was unreadable for a long moment. Then, after what felt like an eternity—

“…Understood.”

Progress.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

When it finally broke, it wasn’t dramatic.

There was no grand trigger, no huge revelation.

Just a moment of quiet.

You had fallen asleep on the couch, exhaustion finally winning after two days of Bucky’s overprotective hovering. When you woke up, it was to warm hands gently brushing over your wrist—both flesh and metal, but softer this time, as if relearning the feeling of touching you.

And then you heard it—his breath hitching.

A tiny, barely-there sound, but one filled with something raw.

You blinked sleepily, looking up.

Bucky was staring at you. Not the Soldier. Bucky.

His face was pale, his jaw tight, his eyes wide—his real eyes.

“…Doll?” His voice cracked over the word, like it had been caught in his throat.

You smiled sleepily, shifting so your fingers curled around his. “Hey, Buck.”

His exhale was shaky. His shoulders sagged. And when you tugged him down to you, he didn’t resist.

He just buried his face in your neck and held on.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“You scared the hell out of me, you know,” you murmured later, your fingers absentmindedly running through his hair as he rested against you.

“I know,” he admitted, voice rough.

“You threw Steve like a ragdoll.”

“…Yeah.”

“…Kind of hot, not gonna lie.”

A laugh. Quiet, but real.

And just like that, Bucky Barnes was back.