emma

The Tower was silent, eerily so.

Bucky liked it that way sometimes, when the others were off on assignments or out enjoying the city. Silence gave him space to think. Or not think.

Today, he’d planned on the latter.

A few days ago Sam, being the same and usual Sam, had slipped him some modern help laughing as he tossed a bottle into Bucky’s lap and winked. “You're a hundred years old, Barnes. Might as well try what the rest of us use now and then.”

Bucky had scowled, rolled his eyes but yet shoved the little bottle into his drawer with no intention of touching it.

That morning was different.

His mind was too loud, his body tenser than usual, and thoughts of her hadn’t stopped plaguing him.

Y/N.

She was everything he wanted and nothing he thought he deserved. Y/N was fierce, loyal, funny in a way that disarmed him, and way too good at dodging his awkward flirt attempts.

He tried so hard not to stare at her when she trained. Tried harder not to listen too closely when she laughed but most days, he failed miserably.

When he woke up he was already hard and aching, tons of thoughts of her were already tormenting his mind, he remembered Sam’s stupid joke and he gave in. “Just to get it out of my system,” he muttered, swallowing the damn pill and dragging himself to the showers like a man on a mission.

No one else was supposed to be in the Tower anyway.

“What could go wrong?” He muttered to himself at the empty room.

Y/N stood in the kitchen in leggings and an old Stark Industries hoodie, barefoot with her hair damp from her own shower, sipping coffee and scrolling on her tablet. She had stayed behind from the latest op to recover from a minor sprain, nothing serious, but Tony had made a fuss and ordered her to “take a break or face the wrath of Black Widow.”

The quiet was nice and peaceful.

She rinsed her mug and went back to her room. Until she heard a deep, muffled groan echo down the hall. Her head tilted. That was… definitely a male groan. Her brows furrowed. Only a few of the guys had voices that deep, and only one of them lived on the same floor as her.

“Bucky?” She called.

Silence.

Then another low, frustrated sound almost like pain. Or…

Her eyes widened. “Oh my God.” She muttered.

In the privacy of his room, Bucky gritted his teeth and gripped the edge of the bathroom counter. This was not what he expected. He was used to… control. Training, pain tolerance, discipline. But this? The moment he wore his underwear, there was fire under his skin. But it wasn’t due to the hot shower he just took.

The pill was working far too well and his body was strung tight, aching desperately. He leaned over the bathroom counter, sweat beading on his brow as he tried to breathe through it. He cursed. “I’m gonna kill Sam,” he muttered under his breath, palming himself through his boxers as another wave of heat rushed through him. “Stupid, cock-”

He barely made it to the bed, panting as he laid back against the sheets, metal hand gripping the sheets while his flesh one wrapped around his cock. Underwear around his ankle but it wasn’t working. Not enough. Not the person he craved. Not the skin to skin he really wanted.

He stroke himself fast and hard, precum dripping down his shaft, muscles tense and abs flexing with every thrust of his hand. His lips parted as low, desperate groans filled the room. “Fuck… can’t… fuck… not enough…”

Knock knock.

He froze.

“Bucky?”

A voice.

Her voice.

Just outside the door.

His stomach dropped. Blood rushed to all the wrong places, the same wrong place. He scrambled on his feet jumping from the bed to the door, holding it closed. Boxer rushed on, painfully tight on him. “Y/N—what are you doing here?”

“I live here? What are you doing?” She paused. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he groaned, forehead hitting the door. “I mean, yes. I mean—please don’t come in.”

There was silence for a beat. Then her voice, lower. “I thought I heard something. Are you sure?”

“Mmff… yeah… I’m fine,” he murmured, voice barely audible. Hearing her voice was killing him. Keeping his forehead against the door, his hand slid down his body inside his boxer. He gripped himself again, tightening the pressure.

Outside, Y/N frowned biting her lip. “You don’t sound fine.”

He swallowed hard, frustrated that he couldn’t speak clearly. “Just… wait a sec,” he said, trying again, voice cracking. His metal hand pressing on his lips, trying to muffle the noise coming out of his mouth.

He tried so hard to calm himself. He moved toward the bed, sitting on the edge of it. Legs spread open and hand moving faster on his cock.

“I’m okay… I swear…”

The door opened a crack. He’d forgotten to lock it. Bucky didn’t even try to lung forward or pushing it closed again.

She was already peeking in, eyes wide and lips parted and then she saw him.

Flushed, shirtless, wearing only a pair of very thigh underwear. Hair damp and sticking to his neck and very clearly… affected.

His hand was still around his cock, she glanced down smirking. He winced like you’d just caught him watching porn at work. “This is not what it looks like.”

“And what does it look like, Bucky?” She asked, voice soft but tinged with something sharper. Teasing. Dangerous. He hesitated, sitting better on the bed.

She raised a brow. “…Did you take something?”

His face flushed red, ears burning and eyes on the floor, too ashamed of looking at her face. “…Maybe.” He growled. “Yes, okay? Sam gave me a damn pill days ago and I thought I was alone, so I—”“Why?”He swallowed. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” He snapped, embarrassed beyond reason.

She didn’t look disgusted. Or scandalised. She looked… intrigued? A little smug?

The blue pills weren’t meant for someone like him. Not officially. Not for a super soldier with an already enhanced everything, strength and reflexes and stamina and… libido. “You look like you’re in pain,” she said softly.

“I am,” he grit. “I didn’t think anyone was here. I wasn’t gonna… hell, I don’t know what I was gonna do.”“Well,” she said, locking the door behind her, “you’ve got a few options.”

He blinked at her. “What?”

She leaned against the wall. “You could wait it out. Could take a cold shower. Or…” She moved toward Bucky, he flinched a little once she sat on the bed near him, brushing against his hip. “…You could let me help.”

His breath hitched. “Y/N… don’t tease me.”“I’m not,” she said, voice suddenly serious. “I’ve wanted you for a long time, Bucky. If this is how the truth comes out… so let it be.”

The look in her eyes nearly undid him. Heat but softness at the same time. There was lust and even something else he didn’t get immediately. It was something that burned even hotter than the pill in his system.

“Say the word,” she whispered.

He leaned closer, metal hand cradling her jaw, the human hand trembling slightly as it rested on her waist. His forehead pressed against hers. Sitting near each other, his fire rise. “You’re sure?”

She nodded. “I want you.”

Then his lips were on hers, hungry and desperate holding many months of tension snapping like a live wire between them. She gasped into his mouth, fingers digging into his back as he backed her up against the mattress in a second.

He hovered her, grinding against her. Bucky kissed her like he was starving. Not rushed but yet devouring her. Lips slanting over hers, tongue sliding in with a low groan. His metal hand firm around her hip while the other roamed her skin like he couldn’t decide what to touch first. Her neck, her waist, the swell of her breasts under her hoodie.

All of it was his to explore.

Y/N felt the weight of him between her legs as he pressed her back against the mattress, hips grinding with purpose. He was hot and hard and heavy against her, and there was no mistaking the effect of that little blue pill. “Fuck,” she breathed as he kissed down her neck, nipping just beneath her jaw. “This isn’t going to wear off anytime soon, is it?”

His chuckle was low and rough. “No. You’re in for a long day, sweetheart.” She pulled his mouth back to hers, kissing him deeper this time, moaning when his fingers dipped beneath her waistband.

He found her soaked, already slick and swollen, and he hissed through his teeth. “Jesus, you’re wet. For me?”

“All for you,” she whispered, rocking into his touch.

“Gimme a little show doll… strip for me,” Bucky ordered her.

She didn’t wast a second. Rushing up from the bed, Bucky laid down resting on his metal arm. The flesh hand goes directly to his cock as he removed his boxer. Bucky was now fully naked, stroking his cock.

Y/N stood at the end of the bed, mouth open as he saw Bucky in his glorious state. She began playing with the edge of her hoodie, letting him seeing some skin. She lifted the hoodie, no bra nor shirt under it.

Her boobs peaked out and Bucky stroke himself faster. “Good, perfect boobs doll.”

He moaned the last word.

Not wanting to tease him more, she slid leggings and undies in a swift movement.

“Come here now.”

She knelt on the bed and crawled up to him. He slid his hand on her waist and pulled her down on the mattress. His finger circled her clit slow, deliberate and teasing. She tried to grind harder, closing her legs but he gripped her thigh and spread her open wider.

“Patience,” he growled into her ear. “Wanna feel you come apart on my hand first.”

He sank two fingers inside her. Her head fell back, a choked moan escaping her lips as he curled them just right, finding the spot that made her hips buck involuntarily. “There,” he murmured, thumb rubbing tight circles against her clit while he pumped in and out with slow, merciless rhythm. “That feel good?”“Yes,” she gasped, nails digging into his shoulders. “God, Bucky…”

He kissed her again to swallow the sounds she made, fingers never slowing. The metal of his other hand gripped her thigh, holding her open, strong and unyielding. She was about to came with a gasp, trembling, clenching around his fingers as her legs shook. He stopped and she grunted but he didn’t even give her time to whine. He dropped to his knees in front of her on the floor, pulling her on the edge of the bed.

“Wait… what are you…”

His mouth latched onto her soaked pussy before she could finish the sentence. She nearly screamed. He licked her like a man possessed. Slow at first tasting her, then with more urgency. His tongue flicking over her clit in sharp, wet strokes. He groaned against her, hands gripping her thighs, keeping her open as he feasted on her like it was his goddamn job.

“Bucky… fuck… I can’t…”

“Yes you can,” he growled, mouth shiny and wet. “Give me what I want.”

She came with a cry, hips twitching and thighs squeezing around his head as her vision went white. He stood quickly after that, lips slick and eyes blown black with lust. She could see how hard he still was as the pill hadn’t worn off in the slightest.

His cock straight in the air, thick and flushed, leaking at the tip. “Condom,” he muttered, rifling through the drawer.

“I’m clean,” she panted, pulling her hair off her face. “And on the shot.”

His eyes darkened. “Fuck,” he muttered. “You sure?”

She nodded, kneeling on the bed close to the edge, wrapping her hand around his cock and stroking it slowly. “I want all of you. Nothing between us.”

Bucky jumped on the bed, just as she slid in the middle of it. She spread her legs, Bucky saw her pussy still glistening from his saliva. He took his cock in his hand, playing with her folds with his tip.

“Bucky…” she whined.

“What?” Bucky replied smirking. His cock now slapping on your pussy. “Don’t you like a little teasing first?”

You shook your head no.

Bucky looked at you. Eyes closed, hair tousled on the bed.

The first thrust stole both their breaths. He slid in deep, stretching her wide and they both moaned at the contact, at how good it felt. Raw and bare, heat against heat.

He paused only a second, breathing hard against her neck. “You feel like heaven,” he whispered. “So tight, fuck… so perfect.” Then he started to move.

Deep and smooth strokes, slow enough to make her feel every inch of him. His metal hand gripped her waist, holding her still while his hips snapped forward again and again, hitting that spot inside her that made her cry out.

“Wanted this for so long,” he muttered, lips against her throat. “Thought about you every damn night. Touching myself, wishing it was you.”

She whimpered, wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. “You should’ve said something,” she whispered, clenching around him. “I wanted you too.”“Don’t say that,” he growled, fucking her harder now. “I’m barely holding on.”

But she wanted him to let go. So she clenched tighter, dragged her nails down his back, whispered filthy things into his ear and when she came, crying out his name, he lost it. He cursed, pulled her flush against him, and came with a growl, buried deep inside her. His hips jerked as he filled her with thick, pulsing heat.

For a long moment, they just breathed. His head dropped to her shoulder, her arms wrapped around his neck, and the world felt still. “Better than your hand?” she teased after a while, voice breathless. He chuckled, kissed her cheek. “You ruined me.” Then, something softer. “I think I love you.”

She smiled, brushing his hair back. “Good. Because I think I love you too.”

Bucky was still hard.

Even after blowing his load deep inside her, hips trembling with release, he hadn’t softened in the slightest. “Jesus,” Y/N mumbled with a dazed smile, her legs barely working. “That pill really doesn’t quit, huh?”

“It’s not just the pill,” he muttered, holding her close. “You’re in my head. You’ve been there for months.”

She kissed his jaw, flushed and glowing, skin sticky with sweat. “Well, maybe you’ll finally sleep after this.”“I wouldn’t count on it,” he muttered, brushing a hand between her thighs. “Still hard as a damn rock. You’re lucky I’m not bending you over the sink right now.”

She shivered from the pleasure. “Why don’t we compromise?”

He looked at her, and lifted her in a second.

The bathroom was already fogged up from the earlier shower but now the steam was rolling thick again, curling around their naked forms as the shower sprayed hot against their skin.

Bucky stepped in behind her, arms snaking around her waist, cock already nudging against her ass.

“I should be tired,” she murmured, eyes fluttering shut as he nuzzled the side of her neck. “But I’m not.”“That makes two of us.” He turned her slowly, pressing her back against the tiled wall.

The water ran down her curves, glistening across her chest as she looked up at him. His soaked hair sticking to his skin, lips parted, chest rising and falling in anticipation. “You look like something out of a dream,” he muttered. “And I’ve had a lot of dreams about you in the shower.” She smirked, trailing her fingers down his chest, over the lines of his abdomen, until she was gripping his thick and still aching cock again.

“Like this?” she asked, stroking him slow under the water.

He growled low in his throat, eyes closing for a second. “Exactly like that.”

Then she dropped to her knees.

The water cascaded over his shoulders as she licked the head tasting him. Her tongue teasing the tip before her mouth went down over him. He hissed, one hand bracing against the wall, the other threading through her wet hair.

“Fuck, Y/N… your mouth…”

She hollowed her cheeks bobbing her head slowly. Her tongue was dragging along the underside. Bucky’s thighs tensed, groans echoing in the tile chamber but he didn’t stop her. He didn’t dare, not until he was twitching in her mouth, dangerously close again. “Baby,” he gasped, pulling her up before he could lose control. “I wanna come inside you again. Please.”

She leaned in, kissing him deep. He picked her up and she wrapped her leg around his waist as he pressed her back to the wall. He lined up and thrust in her deep enough to made her clench.

Her moan was broken and breathless against his lips as he filled her again, sliding home to the hilt.

“Still so tight,” he growled, thrusting slow, grinding against her. “Can feel you clenching already.”

She clung to him, nails raking down his back. “You feel so good, Bucky…so big…” He fucked her slow and wet, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the shower. His mouth moved over her throat and her collarbone, biting and sucking marks into her skin. “Mine,” he whispered between thrusts. “You’re mine now.”

“Yours,” she panted. “Always was.”

That broke him.

He slammed in harder and faster, arms flexing as he pinned her to the wall. Her cries grew louder, water running down their bodies as he fucked her through another climax. Y/N felt her legs shaking, as her nails digging deep inside his back. He came with a groan against her neck, hips jerking, cock pulsing inside her for the second time.

They stayed like that for a while letting the water wash over them. Bucky finally pulled back, brushing soaked hair from her face, his expression softer now. “You okay?”

She smiled, resting her forehead against his. “Better than okay. You?”

He nodded, though his cock still hadn’t gone completely soft. His body was high on her. At this point it wasn’t just the pill, it wasn’t even just the sex itself.

It was her. It always had been.

“Round three,” he teased with a tired grin. “Eventually.”

“God help me,” she whispered with a laugh. “You’re insatiable.” He kissed her gently, sweet and slow this time. “Only for you.”

She should have been tired, really tired, but Bucky’s cock still semi hard for her along with his eyes absolutely stuck on her made her less tired. They dried themselves and got back in Bucky’s room. He let her pass first, as a gentleman but also taking a look at her ass.

“Feeling his eyes on me,”

“Can you blame me?”

She turned around. “Do you have something in mind?”

He took a look at the floor, then at her.

“Barnes do you wanna fuck me on the floor?”

“Would you let me?” He looked down, almost shy.

“I’d let you do anything you want,”

Bucky smiled as he moved closer, then kissing her. At last he knelt. He kissed her stomach, then her thighs. “You’re addicting…”

She lowered on the floor, lips to his ear. “How do you want me on the floor?”

“Laying down,” a kiss. “On your stomach,” another kiss. “Spread your legs a little…” one last kiss.

She rushed turning herself on the floor. Her ass fully in sight. Bucky let his finger slid on her body, then he lowered and kiss her back thighs. He gave her ass a little slap, kneading her cheeks with both hands. He spread them a little, licking her pussy. He positioned himself better, cock in his hand. As he did before, he tapped her pussy with his cock. He slid inside her. Her core still warm and welcoming. He grabbed her hips as he moved his weight on his knees. He pounded in her hard and deep.

“Buck,” she moaned as she tried to move her arm behind. “Come closer… crush me please… I need it…”

“Are you sure?” He snapped his hips once more.

As she nodded, he lowered on her. His chest against her back. His hot breath in her ear. He licked her neck, nibbled at her lobe. He lifted her torso, just enough to grab both her boobs. His weight completely crushing her.

“Fuck me harder Bucky…”

He removed his hands from her chest, letting her down on the floor. He yanked her hair in a fist, pulling her head behind. As his hips snapped harder. Precise thrusts hitting her spongy spot inside.

“Oh my god,” she moaned breathless, her nails on the floor like cat claws. “Just like this… don’t stop please… don’t stop…”

He didn’t, in fact he pounded more and more in her pussy. He felt a cramp but didn’t stop. He knelt completely pulling her up with him. She was now on all four, exposed and sweaty. As he slapped her ass once more, she came. Her legs trembled, as her pussy clenched on him just as she wanted to keep him in there forever.

He followed her second later. Another flush of him inside her. He remained there hands on her hips, cock inside her and forehead on her back.

On the other hand, Y/N’s knees threatened to break the balance but she stayed there feeling his weight on her.

Once their breath were calmer, he stood up. She lost balance and felt on the floor. Bucky immediately picked her up again.

He opened the shower, turning on the hot water. Sensing the heat he entered with her clinging on him like a koala.

“Can you stand?”

“If you hold me yeah…” she muttered, face crushed into his chest.

He kissed her head, picking the shampoo. He washed her hair, then his with the remaining foam. It was now time to take the body wash. He picked the bottle and squeezed some on his hands. Y/N was in a sleepy state, against Bucky’s massive frame. He slid his hand on her body, massaging and cleaning her. Her skin so soft.

“I can get used to this,” she said, caressing his hair once he lowered himself to wash her legs. “It’s nice,”

“I want you to get used to this,”

He stood and stole another kiss from her. He got out the shower first, picked a robe and put it on. Then he took the other robe and slid on her body. He stroke his hand on her clothed body, then circled her waist. She found again her spot on his chest, standing there in the foggy bathroom.

The tower was still empty when they eventually finished and they finally went to bed, cleaned and satisfied. Y/N laid on his chest, hand on his heart. Bucky felt her weight on his torso, as his arm circled her body protecting and keeping her there.

The morning after Bucky was whistling, actually whistling, as he padded into the kitchen barefoot. When he woke up, he kissed Y/N’s lips first.

“We’re gonna have to face the other… especially Sam…” he said, looking down at you.

“I’m gonna thank him so much. Best sex I’ve ever had,” she looked at him noticing an almost sad expression on him. “Bucky… I know it’s not only the pill. I’ve dreamt about it for so long…”

He smiled. “I’ll let you know it was not the pill… 100% you…” She corked her eyebrow up. “Alright 80% you and 20% the pill,”

When you got up, he threw on a hoodie over his bare chest. He picked something from his wardrobe for her.

He was smiling like he hadn’t done in months, maybe longer.

They both entered smiling and holding hands seeing the only one Bucky didn’t want to see.

Sam Wilson.

He was seated at the breakfast bar eating his cereal and froze mid-spoonful. He blinked, lowered the spoon. Then slowly turned to look at Y/N, who trailed into the kitchen, wearing Bucky’s hoodie. “…No fucking way,” Sam said, deadpan.

Y/N paused. “Morning, Sam.”

“You,” He pointed his spoon between the two of them. “You did not. You seriously?”

Bucky walked right past him to the coffee machine, not bothering to hide his grin. Sam dropped his spoon. “When?!”

“Yesterday,” Y/N said cheerfully, grabbing a mug. “In his bed. Then the shower. Then the floor.”

“The floor?” Sam covered his ears. “Stop. I don’t need a play-by-play!”

Bucky chuckled, sipping his coffee. “You did give me the damn pill.”

“I gave it as a joke!” Sam shouted, now half-laughing, half-horrified. “I didn’t expect you to actually use it!”

“Well, you gave a super soldier a pharmaceutical-grade sex drug,” Y/N said, raising an eyebrow. “What did you think was gonna happen? The tower was empty.”

Sam slumped over the counter like a man in defeat. “I thought maybe he’d get a little action. Not that he’d break the fucking foundation of the building.”

“C’mon,” Bucky said, smirking. “You should be happy for me.”

“I was until I realised I was gonna hear about your Olympic-level sex marathon over my Cheerios.”

Y/N leaned in, lowering her voice dramatically. “You should’ve heard him moaning… best sound in the world… I have to thank you, Sam.”

“OKAY!” Sam stood up, backing away. “That’s it. I’m moving out. I’m done. I can’t live like this.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Bucky said, sipping his coffee.

Sam stared at him. “You barked at me the other day for breathing too loud while you were watching The Crown and now you’re here walking around like it’s Valentine’s Day morning in a goddamn Hallmark movie.”

Bucky shrugged. “I’m relaxed.”

“Too relaxed.” Sam snorted.

Y/N was giggling now, leaning into Bucky’s side as he wrapped a lazy arm around her waist.

Sam gave them both a long, unblinking look. “Fine. You guys are cute together,” he looked at them. “But stop with the sex Olympics…”

“Can’t promise you anything,” Y/N said laughing.

Sam smiled, seeing his best friend happy.

Once they were alone again, Bucky picked her up on the counter. She spread her legs and Bucky positioned himself between them. She circled his neck with her arms, pulling him closer.

“I love you, Bucky. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, doll.” He kissed her. “I’m sorry for this… this wasn’t how I meant to let you know about my feelings.”

“I like how you let me know about your feelings…” she kissed her ear, the space on the neck above the ear. He flinched from pleasure, even tho the pill’s effects were completely washed out of his body.

“I’m gonna spend my life letting you know that…”

“I’m gonna be here waiting every time.”

“Hi guys, this is Y/N and we’re gonna use some new makeup products I’ve just received…”

That’s how you begin your videos, like every time you set the camera up. You started a YouTube channel somewhere a year before and now your followers were always expecting new content you were so happy to share. This day you stand in front of some new foundations and concealers.

“I’m gonna make a quick skin prep and then let’s get started…”

You apply your cream and primer and then right when you take the concealer, the door of your studio opens. Your boyfriend Bucky Barnes enters.

Six feet tall, metal arm and blue eyes.

Your followers of course love him.

You meet randomly in a cafeteria near the avenger’s tower bumping into each other and since he bumped into you, he spilled your coffee on your bag. No big problem until he looked at your face. He always proposed to buy you another one and you accepted. Of course you already knew him, and after you spent almost an hour talking he asked you for a date the following day.

After almost two years, you were now living together and things were amazing. You explained to him about your passion for content and makeup and he was the one encouraging you to follow your dream. You never used his status to gain followers but one day you decided to post him on your instagram and people went crazy.

“Hi baby,” he says whispering, noticing the camera on.

You decide to prank him with a challenge you saw on TikTok some days before.

“Hey handsome,” you reply still applying your concealer. “Sorry guys…” you smile, looking down. “Here’s my current boyfriend…”

Bucky stops immediately, his boots scratching the floor. You fight the urge to laugh.

“I love this texture,” you look in the camera. “It’s very light but it’s giving the right coverage…”

You hear him moving behind you. He stops behind your chair, his massive figure cut and not fully visible.

“May I help you?” You ask, batting your eyelashes looking up.

“Have I heard it right? Current boyfriend?” He says, accentuating the word current.

“Well,” you put down the concealer and rest your back fully on the chair. “You’re my boyfriend right?”

“Apparently.”

“And we’re currently dating, right?”

“Also right.”

“So makes sense…”

He snorts, looking down at you and then made something that made you shiver. He takes your chin delicately but also firmly with his hand, his metal hand, tilting your head up.

“I may be your current boyfriend,” he says before dipping down kissing you. “But I’m gonna be also the last one.” He presses lightly your cheeks between his fingers. You involuntarily pout with your cheeks squeezed. He kissed you once more, keeping hold on your face. “Have I made myself clear, doll?” You nod quickly.

He moves to the door, while you try to regain your breath.

“Oh and by the way,” he turns a little. “I’m only accepting this current situation,” he air quotes the term. “Just because I’m gonna by your future husband.”

And then he laughs seeing your mouth wide open.

Once he gets out the room, you turn off the camera saving the footage. You take off the makeup you have on, sending the clip to your phone.

“The tutorial can wait…” you say out loud in the empty room.

You spend the day waiting for Bucky and check your emails and contents you record after lunch.

At night as the sun goes down, you don’t hear the door unlock.

Just because I’m gonna by your future husband.

This is the thing Bucky hears once he enters. He gets to the living room, where you were. He sees you on the couch, phone in your hand replaying over and over the morning footage.

“Your current boyfriend’s here, doll.”

You flinch a little hearing him, jumping up from the couch.

“Buck,” you run to him. “You’re home.”

“Indeed I am,” he says, taking a look at your face with the makeup still on. “You’re gorgeous. I like the green on your eyes.” He says, kissing the tip of your nose.

You both remain there for some time, hugging each other. Your face crushed in his chest, while his arms circle your waist.

“Did you mean what you told me this morning?”

“Every word,” he hugs you tightly. “Since the day I met you.”

What started as a joke, become the reassurance and the knowledge of him being the love of your life.

“You better start thinking about the makeup then,” he says nonchalantly.

As he untangles from you to put his bag on the floor, which no one of you cared about when he got in, you mr face became red. Cheeks burning and a silly but real smile on your lips.

You couldn’t have asked for better.

“Is this Mr. Barnes?” You ask, smiling.

“Is this future Mrs. Barnes there?” He replies, snorting.

You sit on the couch in the hotel room number 239, looking at yourself in the mirror. Your body almost completely engulfed by the tons of tulle’s layers and diamonds.

“You know I kinda want to see you now,” Bucky exhales, sitting himself too on the couch of his room, the 240. “I can hear your movements… stop tapping the foot on the floor, it’s gonna be perfect…”

Damn his super hearing, you thought indeed stopping with the foot.

“I hate that you heard that…” you say, looking toward the door separating you two.

“I don’t,” Bucky replies, loosen the tie. “You know how much I love hearing you, doll.”

“Yeah… I know…” you exhale.

“Are you okay, doll?” He asks, slightly worried.

“Yeah… I mean I can’t wait to marry you and spending our life together,” you say as you hear Bucky exhaling relieved on the other side of the line. “But… you know I don’t like so many people…”

“400ish people, doll… I mean that’s a little party for Tony if you think about it…”

You laugh, real and relaxed.

“I love how you always relax me, Buck,”

“And I love you. It’s gonna be good and perfect.”

You stand and move around the room, looking at the view. New York laying under you, as the sun goes down. A sunset as frame of your wedding. You move toward the door, toward Bucky. Phone still against your ear.

“Are you moving?”

“Yeah. Come to the door…”

“Doll,” you heard him moving. “You know it’s bad luck…”

“I don’t wanna see you,” you rest your back against the door. “I wanna feel you. Just feel you. Keep talking.” You turn, now back against the door.

“I know you’re gonna be beautiful. White dress… long veil and hair…” he stops.

“Up. My hair is up.” You reply while your hand begin tracing the edge of your chin, then your cheek.

“Up. I should have probably guess it…”

You feel the door trembling a little. He was resting against the door just like you, mirroring your pose.

“Your neck so exposed… you know how much I like it… I can’t wait to kiss it,” he exhales. “Your skin is always so soft… so sweet…”

“Buck…” you say, as your hand move down on your chest.

Your nipples are already hard, pressing deliciously against the corset. Your breathe hitch, just for a second, and then you close your eyes.

You slide down on the floor sitting, door still supporting your back. “Sit, Buck… please sit on the floor. Back to the door…”

He does it immediately. “Done. Doll… are you alright?”

“I’ll be in a minute… talk to me…” you say quickly.

Your hand now moves freely on your body. Spreading your legs, you sit better on the floor. The dress now against your face, as a white and soft cage.

“I’m wearing the stocking you like so much… the transparent one… tell me what you’re gonna do after the ceremony…”

Bucky now was understanding the situation.

“Doll,” he begin sitting more comfortable on the floor with this legs spread too. “I think I’ll kiss the part of your thighs not covered in the stocking…”

His cock twitching in his pants, so he covers it with his hand massaging it and trying to ease the pleasure. “You like so much when I kiss you there…” he needs to press more on his bulge, pants too tight.

“Then? B-Buck?” Your fingers begin to trace the edge of your underwear, a white and lacy set you choose for Bucky’s eyes only.

“Then I think I’ll slide them off your legs with my mouth… do you remember that night-”

“YES! I remember…” you pant more as you feel your body burst. “Then what?”

“Then,” he pauses. “I’ll spread your legs a little bit more,” he grits his teeth. “Your always so shy when I do that…”

As he controlled you, you spread indeed more your legs. You index dive into your warm core. “F-fuck… Bucky… keep talking…”

“I don’t know if I can resist, doll…” his cock now out, after quickly unzipping his pants.

It springs free in a second, awakened by the mere sound of your voice.

“I don’t want you to resist…”

He grabs his cock at the base, metal hand slowly moving up and down. With his thumb he plays a little with the tip of his cock, almost leaking.

“Alright,” he exhales deep. “Now it’s time for your little slutty undies…” he says as he hardened the press on his cock. “But I think I’m gonna slide them… you know just as you like… just as you prefer when we’re too needy for each other…”

On the other side of the phone, you plug two fingers into your pussy after sliding your undies. “Yeess… Bucky keep talking…”

Bucky resist the urge to end the call and burst inside the room. He heard all the moans and whispers, even without the phone thanks to the serum. He hears you moving more.

“Doll?” He asks, panting.

You move, kneeling on the ground and back still against the door. You dress is now all around your upper body, as your fingers keep playing with your core.

“Are you coming Buck?” You ask suddenly. “You haven’t finished undressing me…”

He snorts as he rises his hips slightly up. “Cheeky little menace… I’m gonna pound in your little needy pussy with your dress still on…”

Your fingers press on your clit now, circling it and pinching it. “God… I want to be with you Buck…”

“Me too, doll…” He moaned as his orgasm rises. “Fucking smell your scent in the air… your so wet don’t you?”

“Yes… so wet… for you… always you…”

He bumps his head against the door as you flinch excited hearing the bump. He was so close but yet so distant.

“I wanna come Bucky… let me come…” you beg as you move your fingers faster.

“Come, doll…” he orders you. “Come on your fingers… with my voice… I’m gonna make your scream so much after…”

He fasted his hand too, keep tighten his hand on his cock. He pictures you in the room. Legs spread, sit in a white cloud of tulle and fabric.

“Buck… fuck… I’m coming…”

You lunge forward, right before backing up with your back on the door. You fingers keep circling on your clit as you feel the orgasm reaching your stomach.

Hearing you moan, Bucky grunts and comes too.

It take a couple of minutes on the phone for the both of you to calm. He hears your breaths, just as your hear his grunts.

“Thank you Bucky.” You say, as you breath get back to the normalcy.

“Don’t mention it, doll.”

“Are we getting married for real?” You ask laughing and laying on the soft room’s carpet floor.

“Of course,” his breath now calm like yours. “I can’t wait.”

You stay there, he remains sit against the door until you hear Steve knocking on his door.

“Hey groom, think it’s time to go…”

“Coming, pal…” he answers Steve. “Doll I can’t wait to see you…” his tone dark and deep but reassuring as only Bucky Barnes can do.

“Am I gonna recognize you?” You ask joking.

“I’ll be the one waiting for the most beautiful woman on the planet earth…”

You smile, ending the call. Standing, you move toward the mirror. In the meanwhile, Nat knocks on the door. “Bride? It’s time.”

“Coming Nat.”

Escorting as it was her personal mission, you take momentary her arm to keep you steady. At the start of the aisle, Tony waits for you. “You’re beautiful… Barnes is lucky.”

“Thank you Tony,” you say as he kisses your cheek.

The little orchestra begin to play the wedding march and you and Tony begin to walk. Entering the aisle, you see Bucky.

His hair pulled back with a gel, his blue eyes sparkling and fighting with the tears. He taps the foot on the floor, sign he is nervous as you are.

Once you reach the altar, Tony lifts your veil and kisses your forehead.

“Stop tapping the foot…” you whisper low.

He smiles at you. “Your cheeks are a little red still… I like it…” you fight yourself to not burst into a laugh. He gives you a last look, smiling.

You reciprocate the look, mind already at the after ceremony with your new and hot husband.

One month later, the gym smelled of sweat and aggression. Y/N had Bucky in a chokehold that would have made any other man tap out three moves earlier. He didn’t. Instead, he twisted, rolled, and threw her flat on her back.

She let out a grunt, glaring up at him from the mat. “You’re slipping, Grandpa.”

He smirked, panting slightly. “Still put you on your ass.” There wasn’t any venom in her voice anymore, not like there used to be.

And he noticed especially during the quiet mornings, when they ended up grabbing breakfast at the same time in the compound’s shared kitchen.

No snarky comment, no sass. Just… talking. Even if she’d let him take control that night, breathless and aching and entirely his, they hadn’t crossed that line again.

Not physically, just the memory of that night was enough.

Until he messed up.

It was a Friday, late afternoon, and the common area was crowded. Sam, Natasha, and even Steve was lounging around, enjoying the rare lull between missions. Laughter echoed off the walls, a movie played softly in the background, and the scent of popcorn lingered in the air. Bucky strolled in, smug as ever, a faint swagger in his step. He looked freshly showered, hair still damp, a towel slung casually over his shoulder. Y/N walked in just behind him, sipping coffee, cheeks still flushed from the treadmill. She wore a loose tank and joggers, earbuds hanging around her neck, completely unaware of the shift that was about to happen.

“You and Y/N still playing rough in the gym, huh?” Sam teased, nudging Bucky with an elbow, his grin wide and playful. Bucky smirked, cocky and careless, barely glancing back at her.

“Yeah, well… some things we’re good at keeping physical. Someone’s gotta keep her ego in check.”

The room went dead quiet.

Y/N froze mid step. Her cup lowered slightly, hand tightening around the ceramic mug as if it grounded her. Sam’s smile dropped. He gave Bucky a sharp look.

“Dude.” Bucky’s smirk faltered a beat too late. His brow creased.

“What? I meant sparring. Jesus.”

But it was already too late.

The implication had settled into the air like smoke. Natasha raised an eyebrow, unreadable but clearly unimpressed. Steve glanced down, lips pressed in a thin line, avoiding eye contact. Sam muttered something under his breath and walked out of the room without another word. Y/N’s jaw clenched. She didn’t speak, didn’t lash out, didn’t correct him. She just turned on her heel and walked away silent, controlled, but burning from the inside out. And Bucky felt it. Every step she took away from him stung more than he expected.

“Great,” Natasha muttered.

“You really nailed that one, Barnes.” Bucky opened his mouth. Closed it. The smirk was gone, evaporated like it had never been there.

Later that night, she found him in the training room again, punching the heavy bag like it had personally insulted him. His fists thudded against the leather, repeatedly, until he sensed her presence. He stopped when she entered, chest rising and falling with laboured breath.

“Y/N,” he started, guilt already flickering in his eyes. “I didn’t mean…”

“You think this is funny?” Her voice was low and sharp, cutting through the silence. “You screw me once and think that gives you the right to turn it into a joke for the whole team?”

His eyes darkened. “That’s not what I was doing.”

“Then what were you doing, Barnes? Because from where I stood, it looked a hell of a lot like you threw me under the bus for a cheap laugh.”

“It wasn’t like that,” he said, stepping toward her.

“I panicked. They were teasing me and I… I didn’t mean to make you feel used.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “That’s the thing. You didn’t even think about how I’d feel, did you?”

“Jeez. You’re so sensitive, Y/N,” Bucky said, words spilling out fast and defensive like they might shield him from the damage already done. He regretted them the moment they left his mouth. Her expression didn’t shift right away. That was the worst part. She just blinked, like the words had hit her midbreath. Then something in her eyes changed subtly, but completely. It wasn’t anger. It was colder. Detached.

“You know what, Barnes?” Her voice was quiet and level, too calm. “That’s low. Even for you.”

Bucky’s stomach dropped. “Wait, Y/N”

“No.” She cut him off with a raised hand. “Don’t. Don’t walk it back now. You said what you said. You meant it enough to say it in front of the team, and now you’re doubling down?”

His jaw clenched. He wanted to tell her he didn’t mean it. That he was lashing out. That vulnerability sat on his chest like a loaded gun and sometimes he said stupid things because it scared him how much she mattered. But that would have been too honest. And Bucky Barnes hadn’t figured out how to be honest with her yet. So, he said nothing. And she stepped back like he’d physically shoved her.

“Whatever this was,” she gestured vaguely between them, “It’s done. You can go back to your brooding and your locker room jokes. I’ll go back to not giving a damn.”

“That’s not fair,” he finally said. She gave a short, humourless laugh.

“You know what’s not fair? Trusting you with something real. Letting my guard down when I never do. Not for anyone I work with. Not even for people I like, let alone-” She stopped herself, swallowed hard. “Forget it.”

He took a step forward, desperation starting to crack through the silence. “Just let me explain.”

“To what end?” Her voice shook, but only slightly. Her eyes were glassy now. “So you can call me sensitive again when I expect basic respect from someone, I was stupid enough to trust?”

“Damn it Y/N,” he snapped, frustration bleeding through. “I messed up. I know I did. But I wasn’t trying to hurt you”

“Too bad. You did hurt me,” she said quietly, but with a steely certainty that left no room for argument. “So, congratulations. Go win your next sparring match. Or whatever the hell helps you sleep at night.” She turned and walked away without looking back.

That night between them changed everything.

They pretended to hate each other again, sharp words, careless teasing, brutal sparring matches, as if nothing had shifted. As if the walls had never come down. But beneath the surface, the memory of that night lingered, raw and unburied. That night, he had taken her body, and she had let him.

For the first time in a long while, she had let her defences fall. And he hadn’t just been rough or passionate, he had been present, focused entirely on her in a way that both unsettled and awakened something deep inside her. Tonight, the distance between them felt heavier than ever.

She wanted to snap back, to joke like she always did. To play it cool and pretend none of it mattered. But all she could do was sit with that sting in her chest and wonder.

Was she just sensitive? Or had it meant something more?

Two weeks after, Bucky noticed it immediately.

Y/N wasn’t mean to him, not anymore.

He missed even her snarky comments. They started being enemies, then had one of the best night of their life and now they were almost as strangers. Y/N stopped showing up at the gym during their usual time.

No more shared breakfasts. No more sarcastic jabs tossed over shoulder pads or sparring gear. She was still going on missions still sharp, still efficient, still deadly. But now, she was cold. Clinical. Like he was just another operative on the roster. And it ate him alive. Because once you’ve had someone, truly had them, felt their skin under your hands, heard the sounds they only made for you, seen their eyes go soft in the dark when they thought no one else was watching, it was impossible to go back. Impossible to pretend they didn’t exist. But she was trying. Every time he walked into a room, she found a reason to leave.

During briefings, she addressed Steve or Sam, never him. If she had to acknowledge him, it was with a curt nod, a clipped word, a strictly professional tone that left no room for anything else. It hurt. More than he expected it to. Because she wasn’t yelling. She wasn’t rolling her eyes or throwing barbs at him like she used to. No, this wasn’t anger, it was absence. An emptiness that wrapped around her like armour, one he had helped weld into place with his own damn hands. And Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about how her mocking laugh used to sound before all of this. Before he messed everything up.

On a thursady, everyone was gathered in the conference room. Y/N sat at the far end of the table, well away from the seat Bucky instinctively dropped into. She didn’t glance his way once. Halfway through the meeting, Bucky cracked. Just a little.

“Y/N,” he said, after Tony finished rattling off the next mission assignment. “Can we talk?”

Her eyes flicked to him. Calm. Blank. “We’re in a briefing, Barnes.”

“I know,” he said, ignoring the eyes on them. “But after?” She didn’t answer. Just stood when the meeting ended and left the room without a word. Steve gave him a pointed look on the way out.

“Whatever this is. Fix it before it ruins your teamwork.” Like Bucky didn’t already know that.

That night, in the gym she was there again alone, or so she thought. Running drills, sweat glistening on her skin, focus sharp and unrelenting. Bucky stepped into the doorway.

“Y/N.”

She didn’t stop moving. “You are stalking me now?”

“No. I just… I needed to see you.”

“You already did enough of that,” she muttered, throwing a vicious punch at the bag. It swung hard, the chain groaning under the impact.

He winced. “I didn’t mean to cheapen what happened. I just… I get scared when things start to matter.” She stopped. Turned to face him. And God, the look on her face.

“You’re scared?” She said, her voice trembling, though her posture remained strong. “I gave you a piece of me I don’t give to anyone. I gave you control over me. And you turned it into a joke because you’re scared?”

Bucky had no answer. He stood frozen, silent.

She stepped closer. “I let you in. Do you get that? How many man do you think can handle me like you did? I let you see me. Not the soldier, not the assassin, not the one who always has her shit together. Me. I let all that go, for one goddamn night, and you ruined it.” Her hands were shaking now, and Bucky felt like he couldn’t breathe. “I know we used to pretend to hate each other…” she continued, voice cracking, “…or maybe we actually did. Maybe that hate was real once. But then came that mission. The house. That night.”

He still wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“I couldn’t stand you. You couldn’t stand me. We were both too angry, too stubborn. But that night… that fucking night changed something.”

The silence that followed felt like a scream.

“You touched me like I was something you needed,” she whispered, eyes burning. “Like I was the only thing anchoring you to this world. You looked at me like I mattered. And it was rough and raw, let alone messy as hell, but it meant something.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. Still, he said nothing.

“That joke in front of everyone,” she spat, her voice splintering, “like it was a throwaway line like none of it meant a damn thing? It broke something in me.”

Finally, he looked at her. “I’m sorry,” Bucky said quietly. And this time, he meant it. But she shook her head.

“That’s not good enough.” She brushed past him, her shoulder grazing his chest, and walked out with her eyes forward, heart locked down.

Days later, the tension was no longer subtle. Whenever Y/N and Bucky shared a space, the air seemed to drop ten degrees. And the rest of the team? Yeah, they noticed.

Natasha was the first to say it out loud. “You two broke up or just trying to kill each other with silence?”

They were mid mission planning when she said it, and the room went dead quiet. Y/N didn’t even blink. Bucky clenched his jaw.

“We weren’t together,” Y/N said flatly, eyes on the mission report.

Natasha glanced at Bucky. “Barnes?” He didn’t look up.

“Doesn’t matter.” Steve sighed, rubbing his face like he was reconsidering his entire life.

“Okay, seriously. What the hell is going on?” Sam leaned back in his chair. “Normally I’d enjoy the drama, but this is getting painful. You two are a walking HR violation. Either make out again or start throwing punches. Just do something.”

Y/N stood abruptly. “If this is how you run debriefs now, I’ll pass.” She walked out, leaving Bucky staring after her.

Tony, coffee in hand and smirking like the devil, shook his head. “So… that night wasn’t just tactical?”

“Tony,” Steve warned.

“What?” Tony shrugged. “The body language is screaming ex-enemies with unresolved tension and catastrophic emotional baggage.”

Sam raised a brow. “That’s oddly specific, man.”

Tony sipped. “I watch a lot of HBO.”

Later that night, Steve corned Bucky. “Buck,” Steve said, leaning against the wall outside the gym.

“I’m not in the mood, Steve.”

“Too bad. You and Y/N are bleeding all over this team, and it’s killing our cohesion. You’re distracted. She’s gone ice cold. It’s like watching two magnets trying to rip themselves apart.” Bucky let out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck. Steve stepped closer. “What’s going on?” Bucky didn’t respond right away. His fists, especially the metal one, twitched at his sides. “At least before, you two yelled,” Steve said. “Now she won’t even look at you. And you walk around like she’s destroying you.”

“She is,” Bucky muttered. “I screwed it up. Said the wrong thing. She shut down. Started avoiding me.”

“Then fix it.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is,” Steve said firmly. “If you care, you fight. Not on the mat. For her.”

Bucky looked away. “What if I already lost her?”

Steve’s gaze softened. “Then remind her what she meant to you that night, and every damn day after.”

He didn’t press further. He didn’t need to. He already knew the truth. The “hate” Bucky felt for Y/N? He saw fake money well designed.

Meanwhile, Natasha and Y/N had the same encounter. “Barnes is moping,” Natasha said casually, leaning in Y/N’s doorway like she hadn’t been keeping tabs the entire time.

Y/N didn’t look up from cleaning her sidearm. “Not my problem.”

“Oh, please. You’re walking around here like someone carved your heart out with a vibranium spoon. Something changed between you two. And now you’re pretending like he’s a stranger.”

Y/N’s hands stilled. “He made me feel like I was just something to scratch an itch.”

Nat moved into the room, sitting beside her. “And yet you’re the one doing the avoiding.”

Silence.

“Y/N,” she said gently, “I’ve seen a lot of guys fall for you. None of them looked the way Bucky did when you walked out of that kitchen.”

Y/N swallowed hard. “I really thought he could be different. He broke something in me. And i don’t even know what…”

She stood there, silent. “Then tell him,” Nat said quietly. “Let him earn fixing it.”

Steve and Natasha, the next morning, exchanged a subtle nod as they handed out assignments. “Y/N, you’re with Bucky on recon,” Steve said.

Y/N immediately looked up. “There’s no one else?”

“Nope,” Steve replied with a straight face. “Only one who matches his range and combat profile.”

It wasn’t completely a lie.

Bucky and Y/N clearly demonstrate to operate excellently together, but now there was another reason. Bucky glanced at her, and for a second, just a flicker, she met his eyes.

No anger. No hate. Just something haunted. And maybe, just maybe, something left to fight for.

“It’s an easy one, guys. Recon and download file on this USB.” Steve said, sliding the pen drive on the table. Y/N and Bucky nodded.

So, they were again together.

A mission, two person, one brain.

Rocks crunched under their boots as Y/N and Bucky climbed the ridge toward the outpost perimeter. Visibility was low due to the fog. Winds were brutal, radios off and just a hand of signals now. 

She didn’t look at him once. Bucky watched her through the flurry. Same sure steps. Same sharp posture. Same silence as a wall he couldn’t scale. Every now and then, she motioned a command but never spoke. It drove him mad. They had been moving together for over two hours. Perfect sync. Their bodies remembered each other, even if their hearts pretended not to. She slipped through the trees like a shadow, scoped out patrols, gestured for him to flank. He obeyed without hesitation, covering her with a sniper shot when she silently took down two guards. Flawless teamwork. Just like before. But when the last sentry dropped and they ducked behind a rock outcropping, waiting for the patrol rotation to change.

Bucky cracked. “Y/N,” he whispered. “Say something. Anything.” She didn’t turn. He edged closer. “I know you’re still angry. You should be. But you’re in my head every second of the day and you won’t even look at me.”

Y/N in front of him, back facing him, winced slightly but didn’t stop.

The cold wind howled between them, but he barely felt it anymore. Just the ache in his chest.

“I miss you,” he said, quieter now. “I miss how you used to roll your eyes when I said something stupid. I miss you punching me too hard in sparring. I even miss you stealing the last of the damn strawberries in the fridge.”

At that point, Bucky didn’t care about the power games anymore.

The sarcasm.

The battles of will.

It all felt meaningless now. He would’ve begged. Hell, he would beg, if it would make her look at him even like she did in the past.

“Steve I would prefer her as an enemy again, rather than her not talking to me.” Bucky said to Steve one night, during a sparring.

Not like a teammate. Not like an obligation. Her shoulders shifted, almost imperceptibly.

“And I know I made you feel like it meant nothing,” he went on, voice catching, “but that night, it wrecked me. It still does. I’ve been trying to protect something I already lost.”

She finally turned. Looked at him. Just for a second. Before she could speak, a sharp crack rang through the trees. A gunshot. Bucky tackled her to the ground as a bullet shattered the rock behind where her head had been. They rolled. He shielded her with his body, heart pounding. She shoved him off once they hit cover behind a fallen tree.

“I had it,” she hissed, eyes blazing.

“Yeah? Well, I wasn’t taking any chances.”

Another round whizzed past. A sniper. Hidden. Y/N peered through her scope. “Northwest ridge, forty meters. You flank. I’ll draw fire.”

“No,” Bucky said. “I draw fire. You end it.”

This time, she didn’t argue.

Minutes later, they stood over the body, breathing hard and with the snow falling like ash around them. Still, she didn’t say anything else.

Bucky stared at her. “You’re shutting me out, but I’m still right here.” Her jaw clenched. She turned away, brushing past him and heading toward the outpost. They entered through the west wall breach, silent as ghosts. Inside, the corridors were dim and flickering with backup power. Alarms hadn’t gone off yet. But it was only a matter of time. Y/N took point, slipping through the shadows with the same grace he remembered fire and silk wrapped in skin. Deadly. Beautiful. Unreachable.

Her body brushed his as they squeezed into a narrow passage. Too tight. Too close. He inhaled sharply and caught the scent of her sweat, snow, gunmetal, and something softer beneath it. The memory of her fingers digging into his back, her voice breathless, her legs around his waist, it hit him like a punch to the ribs. That night lived between them now. But so did something else. Not lust. Not just anger. Something aching. They reached the server door. Keypad sealed. Y/N crouched to override it, fingers flying over the panel.

“Cover me,” she whispered.

Her voice wasn’t cold this time. It curled into his chest like smoke. He stood above her, gun raised, eyes on her. She was focused. Locked in. But she was trembling. Not much. Not enough anyone else would notice. But he did. Because he knew her body now. Knew what it looked like when she was pretending not to feel. The door clicked. Unlocked. She stood, brushing past him again. Her breath hitched when her arm grazed his.

Inside the server room, it was cramped and hot from the machines. Y/N inserted the USB and began the download. Bucky stood by the door, but his focus wasn’t on the mission anymore. It was on her tight jaw. Her shoulders. The way she refused to face him. The silence pressed in. Too much. He broke it.

“Y/N,” he said. “That night,”

“Don’t,” she snapped. But her voice cracked.

“You’re pretending it didn’t happen, but I know you feel it. Every second.”

“I can’t afford to feel it. Not when-” She turned then, eyes burning.

“Not when, what?” He asked, stepping closer.

She didn’t answer. The download finished. She yanked the USB out and turned away again. But he caught her wrist. She froze.

“It wasn’t just about your body,” he said, voice raw. “I should’ve told you sooner. But I can’t stand this silence, like I didn’t see you fall apart in my hands and beg me not to stop. You weren’t just a night. You’re the only thing that’s made me feel in years. Punch me. Shoot me. But don’t ignore me.”

She didn’t look at him. But she didn’t pull away. Their breathing matched again. And then footsteps echoed in the corridor. They snapped back into mission mode. 

“Time’s up,” she muttered, voice hard but shaken. They ran.

They moved side by side through the narrow corridor, sweat sticking to their backs, adrenaline pounding. The palace shook. Someone must’ve triggered a failsafe. Lights flickered. Sirens wailed. Without thinking, Bucky grabbed her hand. Not romantic. Instinct. The instinct that told him he couldn’t lose her. She didn’t pull away. She gripped his hand as they sprinted down the tunnel, green exit lights pulsing like a distant promise. Then, a sharp noise.

BOOM.

The tunnel exploded behind them. Concrete cracked. Smoke surged forward. “Y/N!” Bucky shouted. Her hand ripped from his. Gone. His hand closed on air.

“Y/N!” He roared, spinning in the smoke. Nothing. He stumbled through the haze, coughing, heart racing. Rubble rained from the ceiling.

“Y/N!” He yelled again, desperate.

Still nothing. He shoved debris aside. Pipes. Dust. Chunks of metal.

“Please, Y/N! Answer me!”

Then he saw it. Her comms earpiece, half buried in ash.

“No no, no Y/N, come on,” he whispered, grabbing it with shaking fingers. Then a voice. Male. Calm. Cold.

“We will take care of her, Soldat.” Bucky froze. The blood drained from his face. That voice. German. Precise. Familiar. HYDRA.

“No…” he whispered. “No, no…”

The walls tilted. His mind slid into memory, metal restraints and commands, pain, drills, Russian echoing in the dark.

Soldat.

His vision blurred. They had her. They knew what she meant to him. And they took her anyway.

The quinjet landed with only one onboard. Bucky stormed off the ramp before it fully lowered, eyes wild, hair tangled with ash and blood. Steve ran to meet him. Sam was right behind.

“Where’s Y/N?” Steve asked immediately. Bucky didn’t answer. He dropped her comms piece into Steve’s hand. His jaw locked. His chest heaved. Sam’s eyes narrowed.

“What the hell happened?” Bucky looked up, face pale and cold.

“They took her,” he said, dropping to his knees.

“Who?” Steve demanded.

“Bucky, who took her?” Bucky’s lips parted, but for a moment, nothing came out. Then he said it. One word. One name.

“HYDRA.”

Hours after detonation, the air was thick with urgency. Bucky paced back and forth, every step echoing the turmoil inside him. His metal arm swung by his side, fingers twitching in frustration. Sam, Tony, Natasha, and Steve stood in a loose circle, eyes fixed on him, waiting for answers.

Sam broke the silence, voice steady but sharp. “What do you mean HYDRA took her? When did this happen?” Bucky stopped mid step, jaw tight. His voice was low, strained, almost brittle.

“During the explosion. We were running out of that compound, and then she was gone. One moment I had her hand… the next, nothing. Like she vanished.”

Tony frowned, arms crossed, stepping forward. His gaze flickered over Bucky’s as he processed the weight of the confession. “You lost her? On your watch? How the hell does that happen during a mission like that?” Bucky’s eyes snapped to Tony’s, cold and sharp.

“It wasn’t my fault. HYDRA planned this. They were watching me, waiting for the perfect moment. They knew what Y/N means to me. Knew I’d do anything to protect her.”

Sam’s brow furrowed, disbelief clear in his voice. “Wait, what do you mean they know how much Y/N means to you? Don’t you guys hate each other?”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, and you never explained that whole joke about being all ‘physical’ and Y/N giving you the silent treatment. We knew something happened on that mission.”

Bucky froze for a beat, then let out a slow breath. The room went quiet, all eyes on him. He looked down, jaw tightening as memories rushed back. “Yeah… we hate each other. At least, we used to.” His voice was rough, vulnerable in a way the team rarely heard. “We couldn’t stand each other. Mocking, sparring… brutal fights that never really ended. But then…” He hesitated, then finally said the words that still caught him off guard. “That night, in that little house… everything changed.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened, a flicker of something more tender slipping through. He ran a hand through his hair, looking uncomfortable under the team’s curious and slightly amused stares.

“Some kind of dominance show of mine…”

Everyone blinked.

Steve’s eyebrows shot up. Natasha raised an amused brow. Sam smirked. Bucky held up his hands quickly, as if warding off their silent judgments. “Guys, it was all consensual, okay?”

Tony snorted quietly, trying not to laugh.

Bucky pressed on, his voice softer now, a bit more vulnerable. “I used to say I couldn’t stand her yelling orders at me, but it wasn’t the truth.” He looked down, then back at the group. “In that house… something hit us. Something shifted.”

Sam nodded, eyes thoughtful. “Sounds like it wasn’t just a fight for control. It was real.”

Steve gave a small smile. “Sometimes the hardest walls are the ones you build yourself.”

Bucky’s gaze hardened, determination returning. “I thought I was past all that. But now… I realize how much I screwed up. And I won’t let her down again.”

Natasha clapped her hands together quietly. “Good. Because right now, you’ve got a team ready to bring her back.”

Tony grinned. “And no more dominance games, metal man. This is a rescue mission.” Everyone laughed softly, easing the tension. Bucky allowed himself a brief, tired smile, but the situation was anything but funny.

Natasha’s tone was calm, but sharp as a blade. “So, it was a trap. They used her as bait.”

Steve nodded grimly, stepping closer. “They’re counting on that. Using her to break you. And if they succeed with her, they’ll break you too.”

Bucky’s fist slammed onto the table, making the room jump. “I won’t let that happen. I swear I’ll burn every single one of them to ashes if it means getting her back.”

Tony’s expression softened suddenly. He took a step closer, voice quieter, more understanding. “Buck… it’s not your fault.”

Bucky blinked, confusion flickering in his eyes.

Tony shook his head. “You were caught in an ambush. HYDRA are experts at this kind of psychological warfare. Anyone could’ve lost her there.” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “We all know what you’re dealing with. And none of us blame you.”

Sam nodded in agreement. “We’ve seen how far you’ll go for the people you care about. We’re not here to judge. We’re here to help.”

Natasha’s gaze was steady.

“The important thing is our next move.” Steve’s voice was calm but resolute. “We don’t have time to waste. We need to find where they’re holding her. HYDRA’s not just going to sit on this.”

Bucky’s eyes burned with renewed determination. “I want a full tactical sweep on every HYDRA facility within reach. I want every available asset. We’re pulling every string, whatever it takes.”

Tony gave a curt nod. “Alright. Consider it done. We’re going to find her. And we’re bringing her home.”

While the Avengers were looking for a plan, Y/N woke up. Everything was cold. Her body felt heavy. Numb. Y/N’s mind surfaced slowly, like being dragged from deep water. Her throat was raw, her head pounded like she’d been hit with a sledgehammer. She tried to move. Her arms wouldn’t budge. Neither would her legs.

Restraints. Metal. Tight.

Her eyes snapped open. The room was shadowy and sterile. A single light buzzed overhead, flickering. There were no windows, except for a small one high on the wall. White tile floor. Steel walls. The stink of bleach lingered, with something sour beneath it. She knew that smell.

HYDRA.

The realization sank into her like ice in her lungs. She looked down. Boots and pants still on. No knife, no gun, no strap. Just black pants. On her upper body, the plain white t-shirt she always wore under the tactical gear. Her bra was still on.

Thank god, she though

A mechanical hiss sounded behind her. A door opening. She didn’t turn, couldn’t, but she listened. Soft footsteps. Measured. A voice followed. Familiar in a distant, sickening way. “You’re awake. Good.” She twisted her head toward the sound. A man stepped into view. Lab coat. Surgical gloves. His hair was slicked back, and his German accent was faint but unmistakable. A white mask on.

“Who the hell are you?” She rasped.

He smiled gently, like a teacher humouring a student. “You don’t need to know my name. Just know that you are important. To us. To him.” Y/N’s jaw clenched.

Bucky. 

Her heart twisted. “What do you want from me?”

The man walked slowly around her, his gaze clinical behind the mask.

“Leverage. Pain is fleeting. But memory?” He leaned close. “Memory is what makes the Winter Soldier obedient.”

Y/N’s blood ran cold.

“You think hurting me is going to bring him back?” She spat. “You don’t know him.” His eyes twinkled. Not with malice. With certainty. “He hates me. If he could he would strap me on this chair too.”

“Don’t I?” He held up a small remote, and pressed a button.

Behind her, machinery stirred. She couldn’t see it, but she could feel the energy shift in the room. A low humming. Mechanical clicks. Electrodes charging. And then, a recording.

Audio only.

A voice.

His voice.

“Please, Y/N! Answer me!”

Bucky’s voice.

Shouting.

Frantic.

It pierced through the cold metal, the restraints, the haze in her mind. Her heart broke in two. She closed her eyes, trembling.

He was calling her. “In case you forget…” the doctor muttered, turning up the volume. A mechanical click. A slight crackle in the speakers. Then Bucky’s voice broken, panicked filled the room like a scream from another world.

“Please, Y/N! Answer me!”

Y/N flinched, her whole body tensing against the restraints. She knew that tone. The rawness of it. She could still feel the echo of it from the moment the explosion went off. The moment he lost her hand in the smoke and called her name like he was losing his mind. And now it was looping.

“Please, Y/N! Answer me!”

Over. And over. And over again.

The cruel realization sank in like ice. HYDRA was using Bucky’s voice as a weapon, a form of torture meant to break her mind. They wanted her to hear his desperation, his fear, repeatedly, amplifying her isolation and guilt.

“They’re going to leave it on,” she realized, muttering as she was alone in the room. Her stomach twisted. Her pulse quickened. The doctor didn’t need to say it, she could see the sick pleasure in his eyes. This wasn’t just about hurting her. It was about breaking her with him.

“You recognize that voice, don’t you?” He asked, falsely gentle. “That desperation. That pathetic loyalty.” He leaned down next to her, whispering like it was a secret between friends. “He will come for you. But not fast enough.” He said, getting out of the room. The audio looped again. The doctor exited the room. Leaving her and Bucky’s voice alone.

“Please, Y/N! Answer me!”

Tears stung her eyes. Not from fear. Not from the pain in her ribs or the ache in her wrists where the restraints bit into her skin. But from the way Bucky’s voice sounded so real, like he was right there, just inches out of reach. She remembered that night. How he whispered her name with reverence, not panic after consuming her body.

And now? Now that same voice was being weaponized against her.

“Please, Y/N! Answer me!”

The tape looped like a knife scraping bone.

Y/N swallowed hard and forced herself to sit up straighter, despite the screaming pain.

No.

She wouldn’t let them use him to break her. Not like this. She bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood, a tether to herself. To whom she was. To whom she’d always been.

She whispered under her breath, barely audible beneath the recording. “I’m still here, Bucky.”

And as the tape played on, she began to count the seconds between each repetition. She would survive this. She had to.

There were no clocks. No voices, except for the ones they played to torment her but Y/N found something else, the small window.

It sat high above the concrete floor, too small to escape through, too distant to touch. But it gave her something far more precious, light. It became her calendar, her tether to reality.

Every morning, pale gold spilled through it, cutting through the sterile gloom. Every evening, shadows crept in and let her know the sun had set.

She started counting.

One sunset.

Two.

Five.

Seven.

Each one was a mark of survival.

By the eighth day she began to understand.

Sunrise. Sunset. Sunrise. Food.

Every 36 hours, a full day and half of the following, the doctor brought her something.

It wasn’t real food, something resembling a protein shake. Enough to keep her alive but not enough to keep her fully awake. She spent this first eight days like this. Barely sleeping, eating every two days, Bucky’s voice now a background noise, four protein shakes.

The light, however, reminded her that the world was still turning. That somewhere beyond the cement and steel, the sun still touched the earth. Maybe even touched him. And though HYDRA’s psychological warfare continued.

Bucky’s voice echoing relentlessly in the chamber, twisted into torment, but they never took the window away.Some days, it took everything just to breathe. Her muscles ached, her limbs were still bound, or numb, or weak. Her mind frayed at the edges. But she never stopped looking up.

Sometimes, when the pale light struck the wall just right, she imagined what Bucky would say.

“That all you got, sweetheart?”

“Sunsets don’t mean a damn thing unless you’re standing in them.”

“Come home. I love you.”

She would close her eyes and whisper back, not to the speakers, not to the ghosts but to the sky itself.

“I’m trying Bucky.”

She didn’t know how long it had been. But she would keep counting.

9 days without Y/N

The room was not bright, just lit by the glow of holographic projections and scattered monitors. HYDRA bases. Communications logs. Grainy footage of the explosion that stole Y/N from them. Bucky stood rigid, arms crossed, jaw clenched so hard it looked like it hurt. He hadn’t slept. Not really. Not since the explosion.

“There’s nothing here,” Tony muttered, flipping through surveillance feeds again. “Whoever took her covered their tracks. No digital trail. No comms chatter.”

“Someone always talks,” Natasha said quietly, eyes sharp. “No one gets taken like that without a whisper somewhere.”

Steve looked over at Bucky. “Any detail you remember? Anything different about the area before the explosion?”

Bucky barely blinked. His voice was low and hoarse. “We were running. Hand in hand. I lost her for two seconds in the smoke. Then she was gone.” He slammed his metal fist on the table. The wood cracked under the force, coffee sloshing from a forgotten mug nearby. “Damn it. It’s been nine days!” Bucky barked, voice rough and ragged. “I can’t imagine what they’re doing to her…”

The room fell silent. Steve stood by the window, jaw clenched, but even he flinched at the rawness in Bucky’s voice. Natasha leaned forward, fingers steepled, eyes locked on him. Calm, but not cold. “She’s strong.”

“Yeah, she’s strong,” Bucky snapped, pacing now. “But she’s not invincible. And she’s alone.”

No one corrected him. Because they all knew, if Y/N had been taken, there was no comfort in empty reassurances.

Sam finally spoke, quietly. “We’ll find her.”

“When?” Bucky spun, eyes wild. “When there’s a body? When it’s too late to.”

His voice cracked, the words choking off.

He turned away, running a hand through his hair, flesh fingers trembling, the metal hand still clenched so tight it groaned.

Natasha rose slowly from her chair. “She wasn’t on a solo op. No one saw this coming.”

Bucky didn’t respond.

Because he did. He saw her pulling away.

Saw the mornings grow colder. Saw her mask slip just enough to know she was angry, maybe even hurt. And he hadn’t fixed it. Hadn’t said the thing she probably needed to hear. Now she was gone. And all he had left was nine days of silence, and the sound of his own voice screaming inside his head.

He began pacing, fists clenched, the buzz of failed leads and HYDRA’s silence pounding in his head. Each second that passed without news felt like another nail in her coffin. His breathing quickened. They took her.

A flicker of her face smudged with dirt, lips trembling, eyes searching for him in the smoke flashed behind his eyes.

And his voice.

“Please, Y/N. Answer me.”

It was his last begging before the voice. That bloody voice that took her away from him. 

His knees buckled. He braced a hand against the wall, the cool metal of his vibranium arm trembling violently. His other hand fisted into his shirt, as if he could claw the guilt out of his chest.

His breath hitched.

Once. Then again.

Rapid, shallow gasps.

The world tilted.

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice came from behind him, concerned. But Bucky didn’t hear it. Not clearly. The walls were closing in.

“It’s my fault,” he choked, voice breaking. “They have her because of me because I didn’t hold on…I let go…I let her go”

“Hey hey, Buck look at me,” Sam said suddenly in front of him, hands gently gripping his shoulders. “You’re having a panic attack. Breathe. You’re okay. We’re here.”

Bucky tried to shake him off, but he was shaking too hard. His legs gave way, and he dropped to his knees. “I should’ve told her,” he gasped, chest heaving. “I never told her. I just let her walk away from me and now she’s-”

“Bucky, you didn’t let her go,” Steve knelt beside him, a steady hand on his back. “She was taken. And we’re not going to stop until we bring her back.”

Natasha crouched next to him, her voice firm but calm. “You want to fall apart? Fine. You’ve earned it. But don’t you dare think you’re alone in this.”

“She’s not gone,” Tony added, kneeling across from him, unusually quiet. “Not until we say she is. Not while you’re still fighting.”

Bucky’s breathing slowed, still ragged, but steadier. His eyes began to focus. He felt the grounding weight of Sam’s grip, the familiar presence of Steve’s hand on his back. The team was around him. Holding him together when he couldn’t do it alone. He buried his face in his hands, teeth gritted. “I just want her back.”

“Then we find her,” Steve said gently. “Together,” Natasha added. And for the first time in days, Bucky let the tears fall.

Y/N had now counted ten sunrises.

Ten times the weak winter light had filtered through the tiny slit of a window high above, carving a line across the wall like a promise. A thread connecting her to the world outside. To him. But today, the light didn’t bring comfort. Today, there were footsteps.

Slow. Purposeful.

The sound of rubber soles against concrete echoed down the hall and slithered beneath the door before it opened with a mechanical hiss. She didn’t flinch, but her pulse jumped. The doctor entered, same man with the white mask on and slight German accent.

Always calm. Always cold.

He put near her lips the straw and she drank the shakes. Five shakes, ten days. He then put the now empty packed in his pocket. This time, he carried two things. A water pipe around his arm, roughly two feet long stained and heavy, and a white towel neatly folded, draped over the other. Y/N’s body tensed in the chair, despite how drained she felt. Her muscles ached, her wrists chafed raw against the restraints. Her mouth was dry. The air stank of chemicals and stale metal. She said nothing. The doctor stepped into the center of the room and looked at her with mild curiosity, as if she were a puzzle he’d grown bored of solving.

“Ten days,” he said softly, almost admiringly. “Ten sunrises. Ten sunsets. You’re still watching the sky.” Y/N’s jaw clenched. He set the pipe down on the floor with a clang, then placed the towel beside it. Slowly. Deliberately. “You’re strong, fräulein. I’ll give you that. But strength is like glass.”

He straightened, eyes gleaming behind his mask. “Eventually, it cracks. Eventually, it shatters.” He began walking behind her silent. Predatory. She could smell the gloves again. That sterile, rubbery stench that always made her stomach turn. Her heart pounded, but she refused to show it. She stared ahead. Focused on the sliver of sky. The doctor’s voice slithered into her ear.

“You’re waiting for him. For the soldier.” He chuckled. “He doesn’t even know where you are. Do you really think he’s coming?”

Y/N didn’t answer. Because if she opened her mouth, she didn’t know whether it would be rage or fear that came out, and she wouldn’t give him either. She stayed silent. But her eyes flicked toward the light on the wall. Because that light meant time was still passing. And if time was passing, then Bucky was still fighting.

The click of the pipe sliding into place echoed like a lock slamming shut in her chest. Y/N’s eyes snapped to the corner of the room, where the doctor had crouched, attaching a long metal pipe to a spout she hadn’t even realized was there. It hissed slightly as pressure built, a quiet growl from the walls themselves. The hose unfurled on the ground like a serpent cold, silver, coiled with intent. Her heart started to race. She pulled instinctively against her restraints. Too tight. No give. The doctor rose, his expression calm. Clinical. The way one might prepare for a routine medical procedure. He walked back toward her, towel now unfolded, his hands moving with practiced ease. Y/N’s breathing quickened.

Waterboarding.

“Don’t.”

But he didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. Just raised the towel. “You’ve held out long enough. I admire it, truly. But we both know everyone breaks.”

He pressed the towel firmly over her mouth and nose. Y/N’s body thrashed, her survival instincts screaming as she tried to shake her head, but the straps bit into her limbs. And then, the water came. A burst of cold, suffocating force slammed through the towel. She couldn’t breathe. The water invaded everything her nose, her throat, her lungs screaming as instinct fought to suck in oxygen but found only wet panic. It felt like drowning in place. Trapped in her own body. Flooded by fear and helplessness. She kicked against the chair, muscles burning. The sound of water, gushing and spraying, was deafening in her ears. Then it stopped. The towel pulled away. Y/N gasped. Coughed violently. Her head fell forward as she choked on air and water. Spit ran down her chin. Her vision swam.

The doctor crouched beside her, eyes level with hers. “Where’s our Winter Soldier?” He asked gently, like a teacher posing a question to a child. Y/N dragged in breath after breath, her voice broken and ragged.

“I. Don’t. Fucking. Know.”

He tilted his head. “Wrong answer.”

He stood.

The towel returned to her face. The water hit again. The water surged again. Y/N’s body arched against the restraints. Her lungs begged for air but got none. Her head felt like it might split from the pressure. Her throat ached from choking on nothing but panic. The towel remained a wall between her and oxygen. Between her and herself. Every second stretched like wire, pulling tighter across her soul.

The doctor’s voice returned so soft, so maddening. “Where is he?”

No answer.

“Where is your soldier?”

Still no answer.

“He will not come for you.”

She heard it between the streams. Between the gasps and the coughs when he gave her seconds to breathe, just enough to survive. Just enough to start the cycle again. But Y/N refused to give them what they wanted. Not because she knew where Bucky was. But because she knew who he was.

Inside her mind, she was in that house again. The one from the mission. The one night that changed everything. Snow outside. Bucky’s hands rough on her skin. His mouth urgent against hers. Not tender but not cruel. Just hungry. Like he needed her to exist in that moment to survive. And she let him. She’d wanted to hate him but that night, she’d let him have her. And he’d taken her like a man clinging to his last piece of humanity. She remembered how he’d held her after. Even though neither of them admitted it out loud. His voice had been low then, too. It clung to the burn in her chest. Clung to the memories that couldn’t be drowned.

Not by water.

Not by HYDRA.

The towel came off again.

She gasped, spluttered. Her lips were cracked. Her arms ached. Her head pounded. But her voice, though raw, held a rasp of defiance. “You think… I’ll break for you?” She coughed. Water tinged her spit.

“You’ll need more than water and a towel.” The doctor stared down at her.

Not amused. Not angry. Just… disappointed, almost annoyed she wasn’t break. He stood without a word. This time, he didn’t walk toward the spout. He simply left the pipe, still attached to the spout on the ground, then walked to the door. Paused.

“Very well,” he said quietly. “Next time, we’ll use something worse.” And then he was gone. The door sealed shut. Y/N slumped in the chair, shaking. Wet. Broken, but not destroyed. She looked on the ground where the still connected pipe laid.

He’s gonna use it again she though.

The sky, through the sliver of window, was there again. Sunset number ten. Still here. Still fighting.

Come find me, Buck. She thought.

The next day, the door creaked open again. Y/N’s breath caught before she even saw him. She had begun to anticipate the doctor’s footsteps. Every sound in that place was memorized now but this time, they were slower. Heavier. Bucky’s voice now was a background noise. When he stepped into view, her stomach turned.

A camera. A tripod. And a knife.

The glint of the blade caught the fluorescent light, stainless steel. No rust. Clean. Prepared. The doctor said nothing at first. He moved silently, methodically, setting up the tripod across from her precisely in the center, ensuring the camera would have a full, clear view of her in the chair. Still bound. Still chilled from yesterday. She inhaled sharply through her nose, her ribs tight with unease.

“What the hell is this?” She rasped, her throat still raw.

The doctor didn’t answer. He turned the camera on. The red light blinked to life. He adjusted the angle slightly. Zoomed in. Focused. Then, at last, he looked at her. “They need to see what happens when you take something from us.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. No. They weren’t just trying to extract information anymore.

They were making a statement. A message. For him.

“You want to break him,” she said quietly more realization than accusation.

“And you’re going to help us do it.” He smiled faintly, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves. “Hello, Soldat,” the Doctor said, his voice smooth and deliberate, eyes fixed on the camera. “I’m sure your Avengers friends are there with you. Watching. Listening.”

He steps aside, revealing Y/N tied to the chair dishevelled, but alive. “As you can see, I have the missing piece.” He places a gloved hand gently on Y/N’s shoulder, mockingly tender. “You’ve been searching. Tracking. Sacrificing. For what? This?” He leans closer toward to the lens.

“You always knew it would come to this.” He straightens, slowly circling the chair like a predator. “I want you to understand something, Soldat. You belong to us.” He tapped his temple. “You’re playing my game. And you’re already three moves behind.”

He walked to her side and laid the knife gently on her shoulder. Y/N’s throat closed. “Tell me where he is.” She didn’t answer. “Tell me what he’s planning. Tell me what he means to you.” Still silence. She locked her jaw, looking up into the camera’s red dot like it was a lifeline.

If this is being recorded… maybe it’s being watched. Maybe Bucky will see this. Maybe he’ll know I didn’t give in.

The doctor leaned in close. “Very well,” he whispered. “Let’s give him something to lose sleep over.”

He turned the knife. And the camera kept rolling. Y/N’s breath trembled, but she didn’t look away from the camera. If they wanted to record her, if they wanted to send a message to Bucky… Then let him see her unbroken. Let him see her fight. The doctor stood just beside her now, the camera capturing every second. The blade gleamed in his hand as he turned it slowly examining the edge, admiring it.

“You should told us.” He said calmly. “This doesn’t have to be personal.”

But it was personal.

She could see it in his expression, the only thing she could still see. There was no cold detachment, just satisfaction. Purpose. Hate. And that knife wasn’t just for information anymore. It was punishment. For her loyalty. For Bucky’s defiance. For the hope they both refused to kill. The first cut wasn’t deep, but it was intentional. A thin line across her collarbone not shallow enough to kill, but sharp enough to ignite pain. Her breath hitched through her teeth, jaw locking tight.

The doctor watched her closely, like a scientist observing a test subject. He didn’t look at her face, he watched her reactions.

She didn’t scream. He made the second cut lower. Slower. Across her ribs just under her bra, cutting even the light t-shirt she still wearing. Still nothing. Only her fists clenching. Her eyes burning. The red light of the camera flashing in the corner of her eye.

“He’ll come,” she whispered, voice hoarse. It wasn’t a plea. It was a promise. The doctor tilted his head, almost amused.

“That’s the point, dear.” He moved behind her again. Y/N’s whole body flinched when she felt the tip of the knife drag up the length of her arm not slicing, just gliding. A thin line of blood on her arm. The threat of pain becoming almost worse than the pain itself.

“You want him to see you like this?” The doctor asked. “Bloodied? Weak? Helpless?”

Y/N’s head lolled back slightly, her lips chapped and stained with blood, since she bite her lips so hard. “I want him to see I didn’t tell you a fucking thing.”

For the first time, the doctor’s expression faltered. And the next cut was much deeper. The doctor lowered the knife on her thigh, and slice it. Her scream echoed, strangled from her raw throat but it was the scream of a fighter, not a victim. Tears burned her eyes, but they didn’t fall.

As her blood hit the floor, Y/N’s mind went back to that night. That one night of peace. Of chaos, too but chaos with meaning. With connection. Bucky’s hands on her body had burned, yes, but not like this. They had made her feel real. Visible. Not like a ghost strapped to a chair in hell. She clung to that. To him. To the way he had looked at her afterward, silent and stunned. Like someone who realized too late that he’d fallen. She clung to the idea that maybe he still remembered. That maybe he was already on his way. That maybe he’d burn the world for her. And so, as her blood stained the floor, Y/N whispered into the red blinking eye of the camera.

“Don’t stop looking for me, Buck.”

It was early morning when the encrypted message came through. FRIDAY flagged it instantly unknown sender, military grade cipher. Natasha and Tony were already in the control room reviewing surveillance when the alert hit. “Incoming data packet. No metadata. Just a video file,” FRIDAY reported, her voice flat, almost cautious.

“Play it,” Bucky said from the doorway.

His voice was sharp. Tired. Barely human from lack of sleep. The shadows under his eyes had darkened by the day. His fists hadn’t unclenched since Y/N disappeared.

Sam glanced at Steve. Steve gave a tight nod. The screen flickered. A loading bar. And then, the video started. Static at first. A dim room. Metal restraints. A single chair. And in that chair, Y/N. The room went silent. Tony almost dropped the tablet he’d been holding. Steve’s jaw tensed so hard it cracked. Bucky didn’t breathe. She was strapped down. Filthy. Her hair hung limp and still wet around her face. But her head was up. Her eyes were open. She was looking directly into the camera. They watched the doctor step into frame.

“Hello, Soldat,” he said. “I’m sure your friends are there with you…”

Silence fell across the room.

Every Avenger stopped in place, eyes locked on the monitor. Bucky stood dead still, fists clenched tight enough his gloves creaked.

“…I have the missing piece.”

The image of Y/N tied to a chair, eyes tired but defiant. Bucky’s jaw flexed. Behind him, Sam muttered a curse under his breath.

“Son of a bitch,” Natasha said coldly, arms crossed, though her posture had gone rigid. Steve said nothing, but the storm in his eyes was clear.

As the Doctor continued circling Y/N, weaving his poisonous words, Bucky’s breathing grew heavier.

The words “You’re already three moves behind.” struck a nerve.

“He’s taunting you,” Steve murmured, stepping forward. “He wants you angry. Reckless.”

“He’s getting it,” Bucky growled, barely above a whisper.

Watched him adjust the mask. Set the knife in his hand. Calm. Precise. And then they watched what he did. The first cut made Natasha flinch. The second made Sam swear under his breath. The third, Bucky stepped backward, like he’d been physically hit.

Collarbone, ribs, thigh.

His metal hand gripped the edge of the table until the steel creaked. Her scream tore through the room like shrapnel. Steve couldn’t look anymore. Tony didn’t blink.

But Bucky? He watched every second. Watched the blood. The pain. The cruel, methodical way HYDRA showed what they’d done. Not just to her but to him. Because this wasn’t interrogation. This was a message. And then, near the end, came the moment that destroyed them all. Y/N, breathless, bloody, barely holding her head up, looked directly into the camera and whispered.

“Don’t stop looking for me, Buck.”

The video cut to black. No one spoke for a long time. The silence was suffocating. And then Bucky turned slowly, methodically and slammed his fist into the wall hard enough to leave a crater. His voice was low. Guttural. Barely human.

“We find her. We find her now.”

Five more day spent in that room.

Another day.

Another recording.

The doctor lifted a hand and reached toward her face but didn’t touch. Just hovered there. Gloved fingers, inches from her cheek. She flinched.

“Look at your Soldat,” he said, pointing to the camera.

When she didn’t respond, he knelt right there in front of the chair. His gloves rested lightly on her knees, not quite gripping but there.

Physical. Present.

“You’re not afraid,” he said quietly.

“I am,” she replied, staring straight at him.

He studied her face for a long moment.

Then his thumb shifted, barely, brushing along the fabric of her pants. It wasn’t overt. Not invasive. Just intentional. Controlled. Measured. Like everything he did.

“You’re calm when you lie,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Most patients tense when they’re cornered. But you… you stay still.”

She felt heat crawl up her spine. “You think I’m a patient?” She asked, voice brittle.

That earned a response, the faintest curl at the edge of his mouth. Not quite a smile. “You’re in the chair,” he said. “That makes you the subject.”

His right hand slid up just an inch now on her thigh, just above the knee. Where the third cut sting. She stiffened. He felt it. And stayed there. His thumb moved again barely grazing, higher.

Then he stepped closer into her space, past the barrier of professional distance.

One gloved hand reached out and tilted her chin up with two fingers, weirdly gentle but firm. “You want him to see this?” He asked quietly, nodding toward the camera. Then he turned and waved at it, looking straight into the lens.

“Fuck you,” she snapped, spitting at him.

He turned back at her, eyes flaming behind the mask. And then his hand moved not away from her chin, but down. Sliding lightly along her neck. His thumb traced the hollow of her throat. The camera’s red light blinked.

A silent witness to the dangerous game unfolding.

Then, he slapped her. “I’ll let him watch everything,” he said.

Her heart skipped. Her breath caught. He stepped even closer, the sound of his gloves brushing softly against her skin like a secret. His fingers traced the line of her collarbone. His hand moved with deliberate certainty sliding up from the rim of her pants to cup her breast, still covered in a bra, reading every reaction in her eyes.

The red light blinked steadily above them.

Silent. Impartial.

“I think it’s time to end it here,” the doctor said, voice calm but edged with command. She breathed again, the release sharp and sudden like waking from a long, tense hold. Her hands and legs remained bound to the cold steel chair. Still caught in the echo of his touch. Still trapped in the weight of the moment. Still wondering why he didn't touch her more. What was his plan?

“Let’s see if Soldat will like the show,” he murmured, nodding toward the camera. She swallowed hard. The words hung between them like a secret promise or a threat. The red light blinked steadily, capturing every pulse of the silent aftermath. For now, the game was paused. But neither of them doubted it was far from over.

The moment the Doctor’s footsteps faded down the hall, Y/N’s breath hitched shaky and shallow at first, then slowly deeper.

His hand on her skin left a cold, sick ache twisting in her stomach. It wasn’t just the violation it was the betrayal of trust, the sharp reminder of how far from safety she really was. She closed her eyes, aching for something familiar, something real. A heavy question settled over her, dark and unwelcome.

Could she ever let anyone else touch her again?

Could she ever trust like that?

Was the only intention let Bucky believe he did something?

The Doctor’s touch lingered like a poison beneath her skin cold, invasive, and utterly unwelcome. Y/N’s body trembled uncontrollably, every nerve on edge, as if she were trying to wake from a nightmare that wouldn’t end. She barely recognized the reflection in her mind anymore fractured, scarred in ways she couldn’t yet name. The woman who used to stand tall, fierce and unbreakable, now felt fragile like glass, cracked and trembling. Her own skin felt foreign, a landscape marked by something cruel and violating. Tears burned behind her eyes, but she swallowed them back, clinging to the last shards of herself.

Who am I now? The question haunted her, sharp and hollow. But beneath the fear, a faint ember glowed a stubborn will to reclaim what had been stolen, piece by piece. She was shaken. Scarred. But not defeated. Not yet. The silence around her felt endless, but inside, her mind was a storm. Fear, pain, and a fragile flicker of hope fighting to survive. For now, all she could do was breathe, and hold onto that small, trembling spark.

“Please, Y/N! Answer me!”

The voice rang out again, slicing through the stale air like a blade dulled from overuse. It was no longer comforting. No longer haunting. Just infuriating. Y/N’s eyes snapped open, bloodshot and raw from sleep she hadn’t had in days.

“Stop saying it,” she whispered to no one. Her voice was barely audible. “Stop asking if I’m here.”

Because she was there, chained and bruised and tired and bleeding and he wasn’t.

Not at the door. Not in the vents. Not even in the damn walls. And with every damn phrase that echoed from the speakers, it felt like he was apologizing for not being there, without actually showing up.

“He’s not coming,” she muttered through gritted teeth, hot tears welling. “Not fast enough.”

She hated that voice now, not because it was his, but because it wasn’t his real one. It was just a recording. A version of him frozen in panic while she sat here, counting sunsets with wrists too raw to move and lungs still burning from water torture.

“I let you in,” she hissed, staring at the blinking red light on the camera. “I gave you something real, Barnes. I chose you.”

Another loop.

“Please, Y/N! Answer me!” She screamed this time. She heard her own voice, repeating Bucky’s words.

Raw. Short. Violent. Like something tearing out of her throat.

Her body shook with rage and for one sharp second, she wasn’t afraid of what they’d do next.

“I don’t need you to ask if I’m alive, Bucky. I need you to fucking get me out.” She spit toward the floor, the motion weak but defiant. No more crying. No more hoping. Just rage. And she’d hold onto that, because that’s what would keep her breathing.

“You need to move you ass, Y/L/N.” Bucky said.

“I’m trying dickhead. Do something…” Y/N replied.

Then she saw Bucky left the room.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, hidden high in the ceiling above the flickering lights, another camera remained active 24/7.

Small, recessed, and silent.

She never noticed it. No one ever did.

The doctor watched every scream, every tremble, every quiet show of resilience.

But this… this was different.

She wasn’t just enduring now, she was angry. Her voice raw with fury as she yelled at the voice of the man who’d once broken down her walls, only to vanish when she needed him most. The doctor leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on the table, a gloved finger tapping thoughtfully against his lower lip.

“How fascinating,” he murmured, replaying the footage with clinical precision. “She is seeing him with her, in the room.”

He watched her eyes, how they burned. Watched the flick of her jaw when she spit toward the floor. Listened, again and again, to the trembling words.

“Fraulein thinks her soldier is there in the room. Good girl.” He said softly to the screen.

Then he stood and walked toward the editing station, fingers flying over keys.

A new file began to render, no cuts nor torture.

Then he sent it to the encrypted channel the Avengers had no idea they were being monitored through.

In the compound, the room was thick with tension. The team had gathered around the holographic display, the second video flickering in the dim light. Bucky’s jaw clenched tight as he watched the cold precision of the doctor gloved hand cupping, controlling, owning. The second the doctor’s gloved hand slid over her neck, a sharp, collective intake of breath filled the room. Bucky’s face went ice cold, eyes narrowing to hard slits. His fingers twitched, fists clenched like steel traps. Every muscle in his body screamed to move, to stop it but he was frozen, forced to watch.

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, her fists tightening at her sides. “He’s toying with her,” she muttered.

Her jaw clenched so hard, and her knuckles turned white.

Steve’s voice was low but fierce. “We’re running out of time. Every second she’s in that room, he’s breaking her down.”

Sam’s fists clenched at his sides, breath shallow. The image of the Doctor’s hand tracing the hollow of her throat burned behind his eyes.

Tony slammed a fist onto the table. “We need to get to her. Now.”

Sam paced, frustration burning behind his eyes. “How many more videos is he going to send before we do something? This… this is torture.” He stared at the screen. Sam’s voice dropped to a harsh whisper, eyes scanning the room. “Do you think… he’d actually hurt her like that? You know… really cross that line abusing her?”

The room fell heavier.

Bucky’s face went stone cold, his hands clenched so tight the veins popped. Bucky finally spoke, his voice cold and deadly calm. “We’re going to find her. And when we do, he’s going to wish he’d never laid finger on her.”

The team exchanged determined looks, their resolve hardening.

The moment the video ended, the weight of it settled like a storm in the room. Bucky’s eyes burned with something darker than anger, something fierce and desperate. The thought of Y/N’s skin under that bastard’s touch, the cruelty she was forced to endure, ripped through him like fire. Without a word, he moved to the war room table, slamming his fist down. “We move faster. Harder. No more waiting.”

Sam nodded, voice tight with urgency. “We can’t give him any more time with her. Every second counts.”

Natasha’s gaze sharpened, scanning the data streams flooding in.

“I’m running every lead through the network. We’ll find him.” Steve’s steady presence anchored them all, but even he couldn’t hide the edge in his voice. “No mistakes. We bring her back safe.”

Tony’s fingers flew over the keyboard hacking into surveillance grids, satellite feeds or anything that could pinpoint the Doctor’s location. “He thinks he can break her. We’re about to break his world instead.”

“I’m running simulations on possible safehouses, predicting his next moves.” Bucky’s stare never left the screen.

The image of Y/N, trapped, vulnerable, haunted him. But it also fuelled him. “He touched her. He crossed the line. And now, he’s going to pay.”

The room was now silent again.

Tony stood by the monitor, jaw tight, eyes scanning the encrypted file that had just hit their firewall like a bullet through glass. “Another one,” he muttered grimly, dragging the file into the isolated viewer he’d built specifically for this sick game. “No code. No trap. Just raw feed.”

Bucky stood behind him, arms folded, shoulders rigid. Natasha sat in the corner, eyes half lidded but alert. Steve hovered by the wall, pacing slow. Sam leaned against the table, chewing on his knuckle.

The file opened, just her. Y/N.

“I don’t need you to ask if I’m alive, Bucky. I need you to get me out.”

Then she spit toward the floor. And the screen held on her expression fury, betrayal, heartbreak, before cutting to black.

“I’m trying dickhead. Do something…”

The room stayed quiet. Steve finally broke it. “They’re trying to break her.”

Nat crossed her arms. “Making her think he’s already abandoned her.”

“She doesn’t know we’ve been searching,” Sam added quietly. “She probably thinks we gave up.”

Bucky looked like he couldn’t breathe. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides. His voice cracked when he finally spoke. “I did this,” he whispered. “I pushed her away before they ever took her. And now she thinks I’m still gone.”

Tony didn’t look up from the screen. “You’re not. We’re not. So unless someone here is planning to give up, I suggest we triple our grid scan and reroute the satellites.”

Bucky’s eyes stayed locked on the monitor. On the last frozen frame of her face tired, furious, strong. “No more waiting,” he said, turning away.

No one moved for a second.

Then Sam slowly stood up straighter, frowning as something clicked in his head. “Wait,” he said, breaking the stillness. “She’s in isolation, right?”

Tony nodded.

“Far as we can tell. No sound of guards, no other voices… nothing in the recordings except her and that freak who sends the messages.” Nat added.

“Right,” Sam said slowly, piecing it together. “So, who is she talking to?”

That caught everyone’s attention.

“What?” Bucky said, confused. “She wasn’t.”

“Yes, she was. She called your name.” Sam turned to him. “That message wasn’t just anger. It was a direct response. She was talking to you, Buck. Like she was arguing with you.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed. “But he’s not there.”

Tony’s screen pinged.

A hidden background audio track, low frequency looping beneath the footage. Tony pulled it up, isolated it, cleaned it and pressed play.

“Please, Y/N! Answer me!”

Everyone froze.

Then again.

“Please, Y/N! Answer me!”

Again.

Bucky’s heart dropped.

Sam’s shoulders fell.

Natasha muttered something sharp in Russian under her breath. “Oh my god…”

Steve said under his breath. “They’re using him.”

“They’ve been playing that voice on loop,” Tony confirmed, eyes flicking across the audio levels. “Over. And over. Probably 24/7. No wonder she cracked.”

Bucky stepped back like he’d been punched. “They… they made her hear that? Every day?”

Sam looked at him, soft but steady. “She thinks it’s you, Buck. Begging her, maybe even mocking her. Over and over again.”

Bucky’s voice was barely audible. “No. No, she wouldn’t think I’d do that-”

“She thinks you’re gone,” Natasha said gently. “Or worse… she thinks you’re pretending to care while leaving her there.”

“She’s turning against me…” Bucky whispered.

Tony stood, his expression hard. “Then we give her the truth. We hijack their feed. Let her see us. Let her see you.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. He finally looked up, a new fire burning in his chest.

“Then let’s make damn sure the next voice she hears is mine, for real this time.”

She lost count of the days, of the sunrises or the sunsets.

The days were just a mix between a poor protein shake and a little sleep. That fucking “Please, Y/N! Answer me!” as a soundtrack.

The room was quiet, except for the steady drip from a cracked pipe in the corner, now a steady presence. Y/N sat slumped in the chair, wrists red and raw from days of restraint. Her body ached, but it was nothing compared to the weight in her chest. She didn’t know how many days had passed. Only that the voice, his voice, kept echoing.

Again.

Again.

Again.

She had screamed back at it. She had cried. She had tried to block it out. But it never stopped. So she stopped fighting and screaming.

Today, the door creaked open. The doctor stepped in. No gloves this time. Just a file in one hand and a chair in the other. He sat across from her, calm as ever. Too calm. The little camera in the ceiling blinked red. Recording.

“You’re quieter today,” he said, placing the file on his lap. “No screaming. No fight. That’s good.” Y/N didn’t answer. Didn’t look up. She would see only that stupid white mask. He leaned forward slightly, voice low and oily. “They won’t come, you know.”

She didn’t move.

“They would have found you by now. Stark’s satellites can pierce through half the planet. Rogers would have torn down cities. But they haven’t. Have they?” Still, she said nothing. “And him?” He added, softly now. “Your Soldat?”

Her eyes twitched just a little with the smallest flinch and the doctor saw it.

“He’s not in love with you,” he said matter of fact. “He was never in love with you. You were a convenience. Heat of the moment. A body. That night in the safehouse?” He smiled. “You know, he told me about it.”

That broke her stillness. She looked up sharply, eyes wild. “You’re lying.”

“He’s a soldier. He was always a soldier. Trained to perform. And you? You were part of that moment. Useful. Tactical. Temporary.”

She shook her head, but slower now.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” The doctor said. “The truth settling in. The silence around you. The voice that was once comfort is now just noise.”

“Please, Y/N! Answer me!”

She swallowed. “I-he… he wouldn’t…” But doubt seeped in like poison.

“You were never his partner,” he said, turning to go. “You were just there for the mission.” The doctor, proceed. “You told me the first day he hated you. Do you remember?”

And then the door shut behind him, the recording light blinked on. The ceiling camera captured it all. Her cracked stare, her trembling lip, the breath she tried to hold in.

“Please, Y/N! Answer me!”

Still playing. Still taunting. And for the first time, a small part of her quiet, desperate, exhausted started to believe it.

Was now three weeks of Y/N held prisoner.

The Avengers all were tired and need a full rest, but Y/N was still the priority.

Tony lived glued on his tablet searching signals. Bucky wandered in the room, not being able to help. Natasha was mentally preparing a list of torture for the doctor. Steve and Sam coordinated everyone. The quiet hum of the Avengers Compound felt heavy almost sacred. The team sat clustered around Tony’s holographic projection table. Screens flickered with data streams, blueprints, and encrypted maps.

Tony’s fortress of hope.

Tony’s eyes were sharp, alive with that familiar spark that had never left him, even in the darkest times. “All right, here’s what I’ve got,” he began, tapping the projection until a 3D map of a remote facility flickered into view. “It’s a compound deep in the mountains, heavily fortified with top tier tech and security. There’s one way in an old, forgotten service tunnel not listed on any modern blueprints. I found it through satellite feeds and intercepted communications.”

Steve leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “How do we know she’s still there?”

The alert came like a whisper a soft ping that echoed too loudly in the silence of the Avengers Compound command center.

Everyone stilled.

Tony Stark’s fingers hovered above the console. “Another one,” he muttered, voice tight. “Incoming transmission. Looks like another damn message.”

Nat was already moving, scanning for threats. “Running it through quarantine now… No embedded code. No malware. It’s clean.”

“Play it,” Bucky said, his voice low almost a growl.

He hadn’t moved from where he stood, arms crossed, jaw locked, eyes fixed on the screen.

She pressed the key.

The screen flickered and Y/N appeared.

Her body was slumped in the same metal chair, bound at the wrists, bruised and exhausted. The light in the cell was harsh, casting shadows over her pale skin. Her eyes, once sharp with fire, were now dull and distant and beneath it all, that same voice played on a loop. Now they began to hear that too.

“Please, Y/N! Answer me!”

“Please, Y/N! Answer me!”

Again. And again. And again.

No one said a word.

Steve exhaled sharply through his nose. “They’re still playing that?” But it was more than that now. She wasn’t just enduring it she was starting to believe it.

Then, the doctor walked into frame. Bucky’s stomach turned. The man moved slowly, deliberately, with a calmness that twisted the scene into something colder than violence. He pulled a chair in front of her and sat, folding his hands over a file on his lap like this was a therapy session. Y/N didn’t look at him. She didn’t speak. That was the worst part.

“You’re quieter today,” the doctor said. “No screaming. No threats. That’s good.” She didn’t flinch. “You know they’re not coming,” he continued. “Stark. Rogers. All of them. If they cared, they’d be here by now.”

Bucky’s nails dug into his palms. Natasha stood beside him, watching the screen with narrowed eyes.

“And him,” the doctor added. “Your Soldat.”

Y/N’s head jerked slightly. Just enough. The doctor leaned in.

“He’s not in love with you. He was never in love with you. You were just… convenient. Tactical. distraction on a cold night.”

“No,” Bucky whispered.

Tony shot him a glance but said nothing.

“Heat of the moment,” the doctor continued smoothly. “He told me about that night.”

“Bullshit,” Sam hissed under his breath. But none of them looked away.

“You were just part of the mission.”

The camera caught it all every tremble in her lip, every flicker of doubt behind her tired eyes.

“He used you,” the doctor whispered. “And then he left.”

When the man stood and exited the frame, the screen remained locked on Y/N. She didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just sat there, shaking, breathing in shallow gasps. The voice kept echoing.

“Please, Y/N! Answer me!”

Over and over. And she looked like she might be breaking. “You told me the first day he hated you. Do you remember?”

Bucky said nothing.

Everyone looked at Bucky.

His chest rose and fell unevenly, his fists clenched at his sides. “They want her to hate me,” he said. “They want to make her think I left her behind. That I didn’t care. That it was all… fake.” He blinked once, slow and deliberate. “It wasn’t fake.”

No one dared interrupt him.

“I don’t care if I have to tear down the entire continent,” he said, voice barely above a whisper but filled with the weight of a promise. “I’ll find her. And when I do, I’ll make sure that bastard never touches another person again.”

Another ping echoed through the command center.

Bucky spun around, fists clenched. “Stark, I swear- if it’s another video, I’ll lose my goddamn shit!”

His voice thundered through the room, hoarse from sleepless nights and too many false hopes.

Tony didn’t even flinch. His eyes were already scanning the screen, fingers flying over the keyboard. “No…”

The tone in his voice changed, and everyone knew instantly that wasn’t another taunt. It wasn’t another twisted broadcast meant to unravel what was left of them. Tony’s voice sharpened. “Goddammit! No, it’s not a video. It’s a signal.”

“What kind of signal?” Steve asked, stepping forward.

“A ping. Weak. Barely there, like something’s trying to get through, but it’s jammed.”

Tony’s fingers danced across the console, pulling up live feed snippets, thermal imaging, and encrypted video streams. “There’s a signal. It’s weak, but it matches the signature from the last video we got. She’s there.”

Natasha crossed her arms, her voice tight. “What about the guards? Security protocols?”

Tony smirked, a hint of his usual cocky charm returning. “I upgraded your gear. Sam, you’re getting a new stealth suit adapted from Wakandian tech. It’s designed to blend with any environment.”

Sam nodded, already absorbing the plan. “What’s Bucky’s role?”

Tony looked at Bucky, whose expression was a mix of steel and raw emotion. “You’re the extraction leader. You’re the one she’s waiting for.”

Bucky’s breath hitched. His eyes glistened with unshed tears.

Steve placed a steady hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Tony flipped the display to a detailed schematic of the compound’s interior, highlighting cameras, patrol routes, and the exact room where Y/N’s last signal had been traced. “We move fast. Precision is key. The tunnel entrance is heavily guarded, but with Sam’s stealth tech and Natasha’s infiltration skills, we can get through undetected.”

Natasha nodded. “I’ll handle the guards inside. Steve, you and Bucky get Y/N out. Sam, cover our exit.”

Tony’s fingers paused on the final part of the plan. A remotely triggered EMP device. “If things go sideways, we cut power and scramble their comms. It’ll buy us minutes, maybe enough.”

The room fell silent for a beat, the weight of the moment pressing down on them.

Bucky wiped a tear away, his voice raw but resolute. “I’m ready. I’m going to bring her home.”

Tony smiled, a brief flicker of warmth in his eyes. “Then let’s get to work. Y/N must be with us at the end. No matter what.”

No one argued.

The tunnel was damp and silent, carved from old stone and forgotten infrastructure.

The air hung heavy with the scent of mildew and rust.

Sam led the way, cloaked in near invisibility, every movement precise, every breath measured. Natasha followed close behind, disabling the last of the interior motion sensors with swift, practiced ease. Her eyes flicked around the shadows, alert for any signs of trouble. Steve moved like a shadow himself, shield strapped to his back, eyes burning with quiet, unyielding purpose. Bucky trailed just behind them heart pounding, fists clenched, every muscle coiled tight like a spring ready to snap. He hadn’t spoken much since the plan began. He didn’t need to. His focus was singular. One name on his mind.

Y/N.

Tony’s voice crackled through their earpieces, a tense edge breaking through the usual banter. “All right, kids. You’re in the window. Thirty seconds until the next patrol rounds the corner. Move.”

They slipped silently into the inner hallway. Shadows seemed to swallow their figures as they moved like ghosts. Two guards appeared ahead unaware, vulnerable. Natasha’s movements were a blur, precise and silent as she incapacitated them without a sound. Natasha stepped forward to the heavy door, fingers flying over the keypad. The lock disengaged with a soft, almost reverent click. Bucky was the first through. The room beyond was dim, flooded with a low yellow light that seemed to suck the warmth from the air.

There, strapped to a steel chair, was Y/N.

Her wrists were bound. Blood dried at the corners of her mouth and smeared along her temple. On her tight, on her ribs. Her shirt was torn, clinging to her battered frame. Her breathing was shallow, ragged, almost mechanical. One eye was swollen shut, bruised deep purple. Dried tears had left tracks down her pale cheeks. She didn’t move. Didn’t even look up. Then, before he could even speak, Bucky heard his own voice, loud and desperate.

“Please, Y/N! Answer me!”

Bucky’s hands trembled as he reached toward Y/N again, her resistance fierce but fragile. Tears blurred his vision, heart aching at the sight of her broken spirit. Steve stepped forward quietly, voice low but cutting through the tension like steel, and smashed the recorder. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Bucky stepped forward, voice breaking as he spoke aloud now, breaking the silence.

“Y/N… oh my God.”

At the sound of his voice, her head jerked up suddenly, eyes wide but empty. Lost somewhere far from here, distant and terrified.

“Get away from me!” She snapped, voice sharp and panicked. She twisted, pulling against her restraints, muscles straining. “You’re not here to help me! He told me…he told me you’d never come. You’re the same as them!”

Bucky froze, the sting of rejection like a physical blow. “It’s me,” he said, voice hoarse, barely more than a whisper. “It’s Bucky. It’s Buck, doll it’s me.”

Her eyelids fluttered rapidly, confusion and panic swirling in her gaze. Her body trembled violently, caught somewhere between present and the hellish memories clawing at her mind.

The Doctor’s voice echoed again, faint but insidious. “You belong to me. No one will save you.”

Sam stepped inside cautiously, his tone gentle but firm. “Y/N, we’re here to get you out. You’re safe now.”

Her eyes darted wildly between them, panic rising like a tide, muscles taut and shaking.

“Safe?” She hissed, fighting against the invisible chains holding her mind captive. “Safe? He doesn’t care about me.” She said looking at Bucky. “You think I’ll believe you?”

Natasha was already at her side, carefully cutting through the restraints while Y/N struggled fiercely, muscles flaring, body twisting in desperation. Steve stood guard at the door, shield ready, alert for any last threats.

Bucky dropped to his knees in front of her, reaching out with trembling hands, trying to catch her gaze. “I’m here,” he said, voice steady despite the ache. “I came for you. You’re not alone anymore.”

She recoiled sharply, jerking away from him as if his touch burned. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Panic clawed in her eyes, wild and desperate.

“Please, don’t touch me,” she whispered fiercely, pushing his hands away with surprising strength. “I don’t know if I can trust you.”

Bucky swallowed hard, pain flashing through his eyes. But he didn’t give up. Slowly, carefully, he tried again gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch light as a feather.

“Y/N, listen to me,” he pleaded softly. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe. You’re coming with us.”

Her body tensed even more, trembling violently. She shook her head, fighting against the pull of his voice, the warmth of his hands. Her own voice was a broken whisper, shaky and raw. “No. No, you don’t understand. He’s still here in my head. I hear him. I feel him. He’s always watching. Always waiting. He told me… he told me you wouldn’t come. That I’m his now. He needs me here.”

She tried to kick him, but she was too weak. Bucky gently stopped her ankle. His big hand around her fragile leg. Bucky’s heart cracked at the sight of her torment, but he held steady.

“You’re stronger than he ever imagined. You’re not alone anymore. We’re here. We’ll fight him. Together.”

Her breath hitched, tears spilling down her bruised cheeks. Her fists clenched tight, fighting the invisible chains tightening around her mind. Bucky moved even closer, lowering his voice to a soothing murmur.

“I’m here. I’m not leaving without you.”

For a long moment, all that existed was the battle raging inside her the war between fear and hope, between captivity and freedom. And Bucky waited, patient and unyielding, ready to catch her when she finally let go. Bucky’s breath hitched as Y/N’s trembling fingers hesitated, then slowly, almost painfully, reached out and took his hand. Her grip was weak uncertain but it was there.

Their hands stayed clasped, fragile lifelines tethering two souls battered by pain and fear. She didn’t say a word. Her eyes searched his, filled with doubt and terror and a flicker of something else. Hope, maybe.

Bucky squeezed gently, voice soft and steady. “I’m here. You don’t have to fight alone.”

Her chest rose and fell, still uneven, but a small breath escaped less like a sob, more like a tentative step toward healing. Steve watched silently, the weight of the moment pressing down on them all. Y/N’s fingers curled around Bucky’s hand, weak but real.

For a brief moment, it felt like a lifeline like maybe she could believe them, maybe she could begin to let go of the fear. But then her eyes flicked downward and caught sight of the guns holstered at their sides, and the knife strapped to Bucky’s thigh, the cold steel gleaming faintly in the dim light. Her breath hitched. Panic surged like wildfire.

“No,” she whispered fiercely, pulling her hand back like it burned. “No weapons. No guns. No knives. You’re just like him.”

Her body tensed again, muscles coiling, and she twisted sharply in the chair, struggling against the restraints with renewed desperation. Bucky’s grip faltered, but he held on, voice pleading.

“Y/N, we’re not your captors. Those weapons are for protection. To keep you safe.”

She shook her head violently, eyes wild and desperate. “You think those guns and knives protect me? He used that knife against me. You’re just another nightmare.”

Her legs kicked weakly again, trying to push away the nightmare she believed them to be. The room seemed to close in around them, the flickering yellow light casting long shadows on her bruised face.

Bucky’s heart broke all over again. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly. “We’ll find a way through this. Together.”

But for now, the fight was far from over.

“Bucky I got it,” Tony’s voice came softly near him, almost a whisper. He held up a small syringe, needle gleaming faintly in the dim light. “It’s just something to calm her down. Don’t worry.”

Bucky gave a slight, tense nod. There was no other choice. Tony moved quickly but carefully, slipping the needle into Y/N’s arm.

At first, she fought, jerking and struggling against Bucky, panic flaring like a wild flame. Her breath came in quick, sharp gasps but slowly, the tension in her muscles began to ease.

The wild panic softened into a fragile stillness. Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment. Her breathing was less ragged, her body sagging as if finally giving in. She leaned forward, resting her head weakly against Bucky’s chest. Bucky wrapped his arms around her carefully, holding her gently, afraid to press too hard but desperate to be her anchor.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, voice steady and low. “You’re safe now. I’m here.”

Her trembling slowed, the storm inside her calming just enough to let a flicker of trust seep through the cracks. He lifted her in his arms, and proceed to exit.

It was all too easy, but no one cared in that moment.

The briefing room hummed with quiet tension and fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead. There was a weird light in there as the main screen lit up with surveillance images grainy aerial shots, infrared blips and blurred faces in the snow.

The Hydra outpost was a remote fort almost invisible to satellites.

Tony leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin. “This isn’t just a weapons depot,” he muttered. “Hydra’s cooking something nasty in there. Biotech signatures don’t lie.”

Natasha crossed her arms, eyes fixed on the screen. “Two names flagged from the old Red Room and Winter Soldier files. If they’re there, this isn’t a recon job this is a clean sweep.”

Steve nodded grimly. “Agreed. We don’t just need precision. We need people who can get in, eliminate the targets, and get out without leaving a trace.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Sam groaned. “You’re thinking Bucky and Y/N, aren’t you?”

“They’re the best,” Natasha said without hesitation.

“They also hate each other,” Sam countered, raising a brow. “Last time they shared airspace, I thought she was going to strangle him with her own belt.”

“They don’t hate each other on the field,” Steve said but his tone wasn’t confident.

Tony snorted. “Right, they hate how much they understand each other. It’s worse.”

Sam cleared his throat. “Can they at least pretend to cooperate? Or are we deploying World War III with stealth camo?”

“They’ll manage,” Steve said firmly, ignoring the look Tony gave him. “They’ve both led black ops. Both trained to compartmentalize. Whatever’s between them they’ll bury it for the mission.”

Natasha gave a small, knowing smirk. “Or they’ll use it to get the job done faster.”

Tony flicked to the next slide; blueprints of the Hydra outpost. “High-altitude drop, full winter gear. Satellite blackout zone. And if they’re compromised-”

“They’re ghosts,” Steve finished. “No rescue. No trace.”

Silence fell again.

Finally, Tony exhaled. “Guess we’re betting the mission on gritted teeth and sexual tension.”

Sam muttered, “This is gonna be a shitshow.”

No one disagreed.

In the meanwhile, in the compound’s gym grunts echoed off the padded walls. The rhythmic slap of fists on mats, the crack of limbs colliding sharp and clean but focused.

Y/N ducked under Bucky’s swing, sweat-slick and breathing hard. She twisted, leg sweeping toward his ribs but he caught it with a grunt, tossing her off-balance. She rolled, came up in a crouch and smirked. “Slowing down, Barnes.”

He wiped a bead of sweat off his brow, metal fingers flexing. “I’m giving you a chance to keep up.”

They circled each other again, bodies coiled like springs.

Neither pulled punches.

Neither gave ground.

Outside the gym, behind the reinforced glass of the briefing room, the other were still talking abou them.

Steve folded his arms. “You’re sure about this pairing?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, glancing at the sparring match. “They’ll get it done. They always do.”

“But they’ll kill each other doing it,” Sam muttered, sipping coffee.

Tony leaned back in his chair and turned on the camera from the gym, watching Y/N shove Bucky back with a palm to the chest. “Or they’ll finally screw and get it out of their system.”

“Tony,” Steve warned.

“What?” Tony grinned. “Tell me you haven’t noticed the tension. I’ve seen less eye contact in war zones.”

Sam chuckled. “Still… it’s Hydra. Deep recon. Snow, low visibility, unstable terrain. This op needs the best.”

“And that’s them,” Nat said simply. “Like it or not.”

Steve sighed, watching Bucky catch Y/N in a hold and pin her against the wall.

She elbowed him in the ribs he grunted and she slipped free.

“They’ll fight it,” Steve said quietly. “Each other. The mission. Everything.”

Nat’s eyes narrowed, but her voice was sure. “Then they’ll survive it.”

Y/N’s breath came in short bursts, sweat glistening on her skin as she twisted into a takedown. With a sharp grunt, she hooked Bucky’s arm and shoulder-rolled him clean off his feet. He hit the mat hard, the thud echoing through the gym and the microphone of the camera but before his back fully met the ground, his boot swept out low and fast nailing her ankle just right. She yelped as her balance gave out and a heartbeat later she was sprawled beside him, face-first on the mat.

Both of them groaned, tangled in exhaustion and bruises. Neither willing to admit the other got the last hit in.

It was a draw. Again.

Tony turned the camera off and proceed to reach the gym. The others following his steps.

The door opened with a hiss of hydraulics.

Steve entered first arms crossed and expression unreadable. Behind him, Nat, a now worried Tony who let pass Steve first and Sam filtered in observing the sprawled pair with thinly veiled amusement.

Steve arched a brow. “Kids,” he said mocking them. 

Both Y/N and Bucky raised their heads. 

“Shower then briefing room. Now.” Steve was now less confident. 

Y/N flipped onto her back, breathless. “You calling me a kid, Rogers?”

Bucky snorted. “He meant me, obviously.”

Tony smirked. “Sure, grandpa. C’mon, before you two make it weird.”

Y/N and Bucky exchanged a competitive glance, lingering and electric but neither said a word. They both stood, brushed themselves off, and silently made for the locker rooms.

Nat leaned into Steve as they left. “They’re going to love what’s coming next.”

Steve just sighed. “They’re going to hate it.”

Y/N now showered stood near the window, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Eyes locked on the frost-streaked glass. She didn’t even flinch when the door opened. Bucky entered with that same grim tension he always carried before a mission jaw tight, shoulders squared and gaze already wary the moment it landed on her.

Steve followed a second later, holding a tablet. Nat, Tony and Sam lingered by the doorway, exchanging a glance that practically screamed this is gonna be fun.

Steve didn’t waste time. “Hydra’s back in motion. Remote outpost in the Carpathians. Two or three high-value targets confirmed on site. We need them taken out, clean and quiet.”

Y/N arched a brow without turning. “You’ve got half a dozen field agents who can do quiet. Why call us in?”

“Because it’s not just about infiltration,” Natasha said, stepping forward. “They’re building something. Biotech. Red Room adjacent. You both have history with the programs involved.”

Bucky’s tone was flat. “Who’s the lead?”

Steve paused for half a beat. “Joint op. You and Y/N.”

The silence hit like a thunderclap.

Y/N turned slowly, her eyes cold. “No.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “I work alone.”

“Yeah and I work with people who don’t get me shot,” Y/N snapped.

Steve held up a hand. “We don’t have time for this. You two are the best options. You know Red Room and Hydra’s playbook better than anyone else.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “She doesn’t follow protocol.”

“And he doesn’t listen when someone smarter gives him orders.” Y/N shot back.

Natasha sighed. “Look, no one’s asking you to hold hands and braid each other’s hair. We’re asking you to eliminate a target and survive.”

Sam added under his breath. “And preferably without killing each other before extraction.”

Steve stepped between them, calm but firm. “You’ve done this before. You don’t have to like it… you just have to finish the mission.”

Y/N stared at Bucky for a long, silent moment, something unreadable passing through her eyes. She scoffed and looked back at Steve. “Fine. But I’m not babysitting him.”

Bucky’s voice was low. “Wasn’t planning on needing it.”

Steve nodded, handing them both comm devices and the mission tablet. “Gear up. Wheels up in two hours. High-altitude drop, sub-zero conditions. You’ll be alone out there.”

As the others filed out, Y/N and Bucky lingered behind tension thick enough to cut with a knife. “You stay out of my way,” she muttered, strapping the comm to her wrist.

He didn’t blink. “Only if you don’t get yourself killed first.”

“Wouldn’t give you the satisfaction,” she said, brushing past him.

He watched her go, eyes narrowing slightly. Not for the first time, he wondered if she was the only person on the planet who could get under his skin and still make his blood run hot. This mission was going to be hell. But he was already in it.

The metallic clatter of weapons and gear echoed faintly as Y/N adjusted the straps on her tactical vest. The cold metal of a knife sheath slid into place along her thigh.

Focused. Silent. Tense.

A soft footstep behind her didn’t make her flinch she already knew who it was. “I know it sucks, working with him,” Natasha said, leaning casually against a locker with her arms crossed. “Trust me. I’ve done it.”

Y/N huffed. “Wasn’t planning on letting him slow me down.”

“You won’t,” Nat said easily. “But you should know… he respects you. Even if he shows it by growling like a rabid dog.”

Y/N smirked, despite herself. “Charming.”

Nat pushed off the locker and walked over, voice lowering. “Look I know it’s complicated. He gets under your skin. Pushes every button. But in the field? You two work like a loaded gun. Clean. Precise. Lethal.”

“That supposed to be comforting?” Y/N muttered, adjusting the clasp on her gloves.

“No,” Nat replied. “It’s supposed to remind you don’t have to like him but you can trust him especially when it counts.”

Y/N didn’t reply right away but her jaw unclenched, she knew Nat was right.

On the other side of the armour, Bucky sat on the edge of a bench. Metal fingers worked methodically loading his gun, but his face was far from calm.

Steve approached quietly, offering a small nod. “You packed?”

Bucky slid the mag in with a sharp click. “Almost.”

“You don’t have to like her Buck,” Steve said carefully, resting a hand on the back of the bench. “You just have to get the job done.”

“That’s the problem, Steve,” Bucky said, not looking up. “I do like her… pn the field. She’s reckless, sharp and brutal. Like she knows exactly how far to go and then goes two steps past it.”

Steve raised a brow. “Sounds familiar.”

Bucky gave a dry laugh. “Yeah, well. Guess that’s what pisses me off.”

Steve studied him for a beat. “You think she’ll be a liability?”

Bucky finally looked up. His eyes were clear. Certain. “No. She’ll have my back, even if she wants to shoot me right after.”

Steve gave a faint smile. “Then that’s all that matters.”

As Bucky stood sliding a knife into his belt and slinging a rifle over his shoulder, his gaze shifted to the snowy sky through the high windows. “She doesn’t know how dangerous she is,” he muttered.

Steve clapped his shoulder. “Maybe that’s why you’re both still alive.”

Ready to move, the hangar was dark and lit only by the floodlights lining the floor and the sleek silhouette of the quinjet idling on the tarmac. Y/N walked in first, boots echoing sharply against the concrete. Each step steady and unbothered. Her gear was tight, efficient. A second skin molded to every curve and angle of her body. It wasn’t for show and yet it had the effect of one.

Tactical, precise, and effortlessly lethal.

She didn’t look at Bucky as he approached from the other end of the bay, but she didn’t need to as she felt him like always.

The weight of him and the quiet storm that trailed behind her in silence.

Bucky almost faltered.

His eyes locked onto her, tracing the lines of her frame. The way the combat vest hugged her torso, the smooth stretch of her sleeves over lean but powerful arms. He told himself it was reflex, muscle memory from a lifetime of watching for threats and assessing allies.

But it wasn’t that.

Not really.

It was her.

She moved with purpose like a loaded weapon unaware, or maybe fully aware, of how every calculated movement pulled him in.

Bucky knew better than to let his guard down but around her, the lines blurred.

Watching her… wanting her had become a habit he couldn’t break.

He clenched his jaw and forced his eyes elsewhere, pretending to check his gear but they always drifted back.

Just a glance.

Just one more.

It was a facade, the way he acted around her. The cold nods and the rude impersonal words. He wore indifference like armor, because it was safer that way. None of it was real.

What he wanted, truly wanted, was her.

Not just the version in combat boots and Kevlar, but all of her. The fire behind her eyes, the quiet strength and the way she never flinched around him, even when others did. He wanted to touch her like he wasn’t afraid of breaking things anymore.

But for now, he just watched pretending it didn’t burn.

Neither of them spoke.

The rear ramp of the jet lowered with a hiss. Steve stood at the edge arms still crossed, watching them both like a parent sending his problem children off to boarding school. “You’ve got coordinates locked,” he said. “No comm chatter unless necessary. Target recon first. Elimination second. Extraction window is tight.”

Y/N nodded once. “Copy.”

Bucky just grunted checking his sidearm as they reached the ramp at the same time.

Steve gave them a look half warning, half faith then stepped back. “Don’t die,” he muttered.

Y/N smirked. “I’ll try not to kill him.”

Bucky didn’t respond but the corned of his lips slightly moved up as he just walked past her up the ramp with heavy boots thudding against the steel. Each step a measured beat in the silence between them.

It was Y/N’s turn to look.

She hadn’t meant to, told herself she wouldn’t but her eyes followed him anyway.

The broad set of his shoulders beneath his jacket, the way his muscles moved under the fabric like coiled wire.

Controlled and contained, always on the edge of snapping loose.

There was something about the way he walked, like he carried centuries of weight in his spine and didn’t trust the ground not to give out beneath him. That same quiet tension that radiated off him when he stood too close. Like lightning in the air before a storm.

She swallowed.

He wasn’t looking at her and yet she still felt seen exposed, somehow.

The way his silence said more than most men ever did with a full sentence or the way he kept his distance but never really left her orbit.

It was easier when he looked away, easier to pretend none of it mattered or that her mind didn’t remember the sound of his voice or the rare and barely there smile that threatened to undo her completely.

Watching him climb the ramp, back rigid and jaw tight, Y/N felt something twist inside her because she knew the truth, whether he said it or not.

He wanted her and that was clear but, god help her, she wanted him too. 

Want was dangerous.

Want got people killed.

So she kept her hands to herself and her feelings locked behind walls even he couldn’t break through. At least, not yet.

Inside the jet, the atmosphere was colder than the sky outside. She slid into a seat strapping herself in, while he took the bench across from her.

Their knees almost touched.

She didn’t look at him.

He did.

The engines roared to life as the jet lifted off into the night.

For a long moment, nothing but the hum of flight and the quiet rasp of breathing filled the cabin.

Then Y/N finally spoke, voice low and calm. “Let’s get one thing straight.”

Bucky arched a brow. “Go on.”

“I don’t like you.” Her eyes cut to his, sharp as glass. “But I trust what you can do.”

His jaw twitched and a muscle ticked in his temple. He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. “Good,” he said. “Because I don’t like you either.”

A pause, then the faintest curve at the corner of her lips. “Perfect.”

The roar of the jet engines hummed low beneath the silence that had settled over the cabin.

Mountains of white sprawled endlessly below them, wind currents buffeting the Quinjet like a steady heartbeat.

Snow. Ice. Silence.

Y/N sat strapped in arms crossed, eyes fixed on the endless whiteness outside the small window. She hadn’t said a word since takeoff. Bucky sat across from her, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor like it might open up and swallow him whole. He finally exhaled, slow and deliberate. “Listen, if…”

Her head snapped involuntarily toward him. “If what, Barnes?”

He looked up and met her eyes. For once, there was no heat behind his stare. No sarcasm, no challenge just… sincerity and something wounded.

“If you see something about the Red Room… memories that trigger you or files or… whatever,” he said quietly before pausing, looking for the rights words. “Remember you’re not a Widow anymore.”

The silence stretched.

She blinked once, then again. The cold edge in her gaze softened, just barely. “Same for you,” she said after a moment, her voice warmer now. “You were never him.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile or a grimace. Just something real. “I know.” he said.

They both knew it was never that simple.

The Quinjet rumbled on, slicing through the storm and for the first time in a long time, they didn’t feel entirely alone with the weight they carried.

They stared at each other.

Steady. Electric.

Two weapons locked in the same box, waiting to explode.

Outside, the clouds swallowed the jet whole, and the mission began.

The quinjet touched down with a low hum, its engines cutting through the frigid mountain air like a blade. Snow drifted in thick, blinding sheets, settling in every crease of Bucky’s tactical gear as he stepped into the whiteout, rifle slung over his shoulder and jaw clenched tight. Y/N followed just behind him, checking her weapon one last time before pulling her hood over her head. The cold bit through everything, even their high-grade suits, but neither of them flinched. They weren’t here to get comfortable they were here to kill.

“Target compound’s half a klick northeast,” she muttered glancing at the tablet in her gloved hands.

A grainy satellite image flickered on the screen squat buildings hidden beneath camouflage netting, high fencing barely visible beneath the snowdrifts. “Hydra’s ghosts are nesting again. Intel says two of the names on the watchlist are confirmed inside.”

Bucky gave a tight nod but didn’t look at her. “We get in, eliminate the targets and get out. No heroics.”

She scoffed. “I wasn’t the one who tried to play human shield in Jakarta.”

“And I wasn’t the one who ignored backup protocol in Prague,” he shot back, voice clipped.

They fell into silence, trudging up the slope through the snow both too stubborn to acknowledge the sting behind each other’s words.

They didn’t like working together.

Never had.

Too much alike.

Too much history.

But they were the best and when the mission was this delicate.

Hydra wasn’t just regrouping they were testing limits again.

Quiet, hidden cells scattered across the globe, rebuilding what was lost, piece by twisted piece and the two assets best equipped to erase those pieces? Y/N and Bucky.

They reached the ridge twenty minutes later, breath fogging the air, snow clinging to their gear. The old compound lay below, barely visible through the storm a few scattered figures moving between buildings, heat signatures glowing faintly in their goggles. Y/N dropped to her stomach behind a jagged outcrop of rock, pulling her sniper rifle into position.

Her heartbeat slowed, and focus narrowed.

They took different paths.

“Three tangos out front. Two near the east gate,” she whispered into the comms. “Looks like shift change. This is the window.”

But before she could take the shot, Bucky’s voice crackled in her ear low, firm, and already laced with tension. “You’re too exposed on that ridge,” Bucky’s voice crackled through the comms, rough with tension. “Pull back, now.”

“Negative,” she replied, crouched low behind a jagged outcrop of stone. Snow whipped across her face like razors. “Targets in the open. I can take the shot.”

“Not with those thermals scanning the perimeter. They’ll spot you before your finger touches the trigger.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

There was a pause. “Copy that.” Bucky said clipped.

She adjusted the scope, heart pounding. She could feel him fuming through the comms, but this was her op. She had led it from the beginning reconnaissance, planning, infiltration.

Bucky was only there for backup, and his presence had been a thorn in her side from the first briefing.

Too intense and too observant. Still, she trusted her instincts until everything went to hell.

The second her finger squeezed the trigger, the world lit up in red sensors flared. Alarms screamed and within seconds, a flood of heavily armed guards swarmed the compound. She dove for cover, adrenaline crashing into her system like lightning. “Fuck! I’ve been made-”

“I FUCKING TOLD YOU!” Bucky growled over the comms. “Fall back to point Zero. Now.”

“I can still-”

“No.” His voice snapped like a whip. “You stay and fight, you die. Move.”

She hesitated just a second and that second nearly killed her. A blast tore up the snowbank beside her, spraying ice and debris across her face. She scrambled to her feet and ran, sprinting toward the treeline, heart thundering. Shots rang out behind her. They weren’t aimed at her. She skidded into cover just in time to see Bucky all muscle and fluid brutality drop from a ledge and take out three guards before they could follow. His movements were precise, lethal, beautiful in the worst possible way.

“We’re clear,” he muttered. He eliminated all the guards, alone. He grabbed her arm and hauled her into motion without waiting for thanks. “You compromised the op,” he said through clenched teeth as they ran. “We improvise now.”

“And what? You’re in charge suddenly?”

He stopped abruptly, backing her into a tree, his breath misting hot between them. “I don’t give a shit about rank. I care about getting us out alive. So yeah I’m in charge unless you want to bleed out in the snow.”

She hated the way her heart jumped. Hated that she couldn’t argue because he was right. And when he turned and took off again, she followed without another word.

“You good?” He asked, voice lower now but rougher.

She glanced at him. Nodded. “Yeah.”

But she wasn’t. Not really. Because even now standing in a battlefield of snow and blood and broken bodies she felt it.

The tension. The pull. The urge to slam him against the nearest tree and scream out every unsaid thing with her mouth, her fists, her hips.

And worse? She saw it in his eyes, too.

He stepped even closer. She didn’t move. His voice was quiet, unreadable. “You disobeyed a direct order.” Her lip curled, defiant.

The snow crunched beneath their boots as they moved through the shadowed trees, the cold biting through their layers but doing nothing to cool the fire simmering between them. The moon hung low, casting pale light over the frozen landscape, every breath visible in the icy air.

Neither spoke. Words felt useless. Too sharp and too vulnerable.

Y/N’s mind raced, every nerve alert, every glance at Bucky’s rigid posture a reminder of how close they were to the edge of the mission, of each other. He led without looking back, silent and sure, like a predator confident in his path. She kept pace, matching his steps but keeping a careful distance. Their breaths rose and fell in uneven rhythm and every so often, their eyes would meet. Brief, charged flickers before darting away like startled prey.

The extraction point came into view, no quinjet waiting.

Bucky paused, scanning their surroundings once more before turning toward her. All that remained was a twisted, smoking wreck shattered by Hydra’s ruthless strike while they’d been occupied. Y/N’s breath hitched as she took in the ruined craft, the blackened metal glowing faintly in the cold night.

Bucky cursed under his breath, fists clenched tight. Without hesitation, he pulled out his comm and dialed Tony.

The static crackled before Tony’s voice came through, strained but calm. “Bucky, we saw the attack. The quinjet’s a total loss.”

“What’s the plan?” Bucky asked, scanning the dark tree line.

Tony sighed. “Weather’s worsening. Visibility’s dropping fast. You’re stuck there for the night. Find shelter, stay low. I’m sending reinforcements at first light.”

Y/N swallowed hard, the weight of their predicament settling like ice in her stomach.

Bucky’s jaw tightened. “Copy that. We’ll hold position.”

He ended the call and looked at Y/N. His voice was low, clipped. “No extraction tonight. We find cover, keep watch. This just got a hell of a lot more complicated.”

She nodded, heart pounding not just from cold or danger, but from the way his eyes held hers. 

Dark, fierce, and raw.

The night was far from over.

The wind howled through the trees, slicing cold air through their layers as they trudged deeper into the woods. Snow crunched beneath their boots, every step echoing in the stillness around them. Bucky scanned the darkness ahead, muscles tense and eyes sharp for any sign of danger or refuge.

Y/N’s breath came out in frosty clouds, her fingers numb despite the gloves. The chill wasn’t just from the weather anymore. After what felt like hours, a faint light flickered through the trees warm and steady, a beacon in the cold night. They exchanged a quick glance, silent agreement.

Moving cautiously they approached the source and saw a small, weather-beaten cabin tucked among the pines, smoke curling gently from its chimney. The house looked abandoned but sturdy, just enough to shield them from the storm. Bucky reached the door first, pressing his ear against the wood before turning the handle slowly. The hinges creaked, but the door gave way.

Inside, the air was stale but dry. Dust motes danced in the weak glow of a lone lantern hanging from the ceiling. Y/N stepped in, closing the door behind them, shutting out the storm and the world outside. Bucky dropped his pack with a thud and locked the door behind them.

“We’ll make it,” he said, eyes already searching for firewood or anything useful.

Y/N nodded, muscles still taut but a flicker of relief warming her.

For now, they had shelter but the night was still young and so was the storm between them.

Inside, after the door slammed shut behind them, Bucky turned slowly to face her. “You’re welcome,” he said, voice low and bitter.

“I didn’t ask you to save me.”

“No. You didn’t,” he said. “That’s the fucking problem.”

She stared at him, chest heaving. Rain dripped down her face but her blood burned hotter than ever. “I don’t need you.”

He stepped closer. “Yeah? Then why’d you listen when I told you to run?”

She said nothing because the answer was simple. She did trust him. Even when she hated him for being right. Even when she wanted to push him against the nearest wall and…

The silence cracked between them like thunder.

The storm outside hadn’t even started yet. The power flickered twice then died, leaving the place in a cold, humming silence.

“You’ve gotta be kidding,” she muttered, soaked through and scowling.

Bucky locked the door closed behind him, shoulders tense and eyes already scanning the dark with soldier precision.

“No power. No signal. We’re stuck until morning.” She blinked. “There’s only one bed.”

“And no heat,” he said, jaw tight. “This high up in the mountains? We’ll be hypothermic by dawn.”

She pulled off her soaked jacket, biting back a shiver. “What, no generator in your fancy arm?”

“No,” he said, stepping closer. “But I’ve got body heat.”

She scoffed. “Wow. Original.”

“I’m serious.”

He always was too serious.

In the dimness, she peeled off her boots and gear, teeth clattering. Bucky shrugged out of his gear with more force than necessary, metal arm clanking as he yanked his harness free and dropped it to the ground. He looked at her and his jaw was tight, twitching like he was trying very hard not to say something he’d regret.

They watched each other intently as they slowly peeled off every piece of clothing. Fingers trembled slightly with anticipation, eyes tracing every curve and line revealed with each discarded layer. The air between them thickened with heat and unspoken desire, every glance speaking louder than words as they bared themselves completely, standing vulnerable and exposed before one another. He watched as the tactical pants slid slowly down her legs, the fabric slipping over smooth skin.

She watched how his metal arm moved deliberately, unclipping and pulling the belt free with quiet strength. Their eyes met, the small moments charged with something electric between them.

When she removed her bra, Bucky kept his eyes fixed on her face. Inside, he was dying to touch those delicate breasts, to suck on the nipples now fully erect but he also knew she’d probably shoot him if he tried.

“You always think you’re right,” she snapped, pacing across the floor. “Like your instincts are the only ones that matter.”

His head jerked toward her, blue eyes sharp. He stopped undressing, his shirt and boxers still on. She looked at how tight the boxers were, the fabric stretched against his skin.

“I was right,” he growled. “If I hadn’t pulled your ass out, you’d be cooling in a body bag.”

Her ass, Bucky thought, now bare except for a tiny pair of underwear clinging to her skin.

She stepped in closer. “You don’t get to throw that in my face.”

“I do when you nearly got both of us killed.”

Her pulse spiked. “I had it handled-”

“Bullshit. You’re too reckless.”

“And you’re too cautious.”

“I’m still alive.”

“I made the call-”

“AND IT WAS THE WRONG ONE!”

That hit like a slap.

Her breath left her in a short, sharp exhale. The room felt smaller and tighter. Her hands curled into fists at her sides. “You think just because you’ve got a metal arm and a haunted past, you get to take over whenever you feel like it?” She hissed.

He stepped forward. “No,” Bucky said, voice low and dark. “I think I get to take over when you start making decisions with your fucking ego instead of your head.”

The silence after that was deafening. They glared at each other, the storm howling outside. Rain hammered the roof. Their chests heaved in unison her in just a tiny pair of underwear, him still in his shirt and boxers.

Then she laughed sharp and humorless. “God,” she said, her voice rough, “you are so fucking infuriating.”

He stalked closer. “Funny. I was about to say the same about you.”

She peeled off the last piece of clothing and grabbed a very light blanket she found. Curling under it on the bed, she settled in, the fabric barely shielding her skin. Bucky watched her remove the last piece of clothing, his breath catching as he took it all in. He inhaled deeply, the air thick with tension and something raw between them.

“This is stupid,” he said. “You’re freezing.”

“I said I’m fine.”

He stripped off his shirt and boxer slow, deliberate. His chest, all scars and muscle and too much perfection, caught her eye even if she didn’t want to look. Then he was beside her, sliding in behind her, his arm circling her waist like a steel band. “Bucky-”

“Shut up,” he said into her ear, voice low and rough. “It’s survival.” She tried to ignore the heat blooming under her skin. The sharp contrast of his bare chest pressed to her back. His breath on her neck. She was flushed too flushed and it wasn’t from the cold.

“You always get this worked up when a guy’s just trying to keep you warm?” He murmured.

She turned her head, eyes narrowing. “You’re enjoying this.”

He didn’t flinch. “I’m hard,” he admitted, blunt and brutal. “Doesn’t mean I’m enjoying it.”

She blinked. “You’re serious?”

“Fine. I’ve had dreams about you,” he said, voice like gravel. “Nights where I woke up panting and touching myself to the sound of your voice echoing in my head and you acted like you didn’t fucking notice.”

She turned fully and stared at him. Thunder cracked overhead. “I noticed,” she said, just above a whisper. “I just wanted you to beg for it.”

“I’d never beg for you,” Bucky said.

A long, heavy silence filled the space between their bodies, broken only by the pounding storm outside and the way his chest heaved beneath her.

“Oh?” she said, tilting her head, voice all silk and steel. “You sure about that, soldier?”

His jaw clenched. “Dead sure.”

She wasn’t supposed to lose control.

In the past out in the field, she was the one barking orders dragging Bucky out of fire, running point with steel in her spine and fire in her eyes.

But now? Now it was Bucky who’d saved her life and that shift sudden, jarring left her off balance in a way she couldn’t explain.

Now, he was on top of her in a second.

Now, his hand was curled around her throat with just enough pressure to remind her that she was his at least for the night. “You don’t know how long I wanted to see you like this,” Bucky rasped, voice low and thick in her ear. “All bark, all orders… but look at you now.”

She was naked beneath him, thighs spread wide, breath caught in her throat as he pinned her wrists above her head with his flesh hand.

“Bucky,” she whispered, writhing beneath him, desperate and aching.

“No,” he growled. “Tonight you listen. No control. No orders. Just me. You just love pushing me, don’t you?” He growled, metal hand clamped around her throat unyielding, cold and terrifyingly precise not choking, but firm enough to pin her there. “Out there, you love giving me orders like I’m some fucking lapdog.”

Her lips parted. Breath shallow.

“You gonna do it again?” He asked, eyes blazing. “Or are you finally gonna learn what happens when you make me feel like I don’t have any power?”

“Get off me,” she said but her voice shook, not with fear… but anticipation.

He smirked. “Oh, we’re playing that game tonight,” he murmured darkly. “Good.”

She wanted this. She wanted the loss of control. She wanted to be taken.

“You act like you’re in charge,” Bucky hissed, grinding against her. “But look at you now. Shaking for it.”

“Don’t stop,” she whispered.

“I wasn’t going to.”

The moment he flipped her over, she knew she was in trouble. Not just because of the bruising grip on her waist, or the way his cock slid between her folds with maddening precision but because of the way he smiled when she whimpered.

Like he had won.

“Look at you,” Bucky murmured, dragging the blunt head of his cock through her slick folds but refusing to give her what she wanted. “Acting like a big-shot in the field… but needy as hell the second I get my hands on you.”

She clenched her fists in the sheets, growling. “Just fuck me already.”

He paused. “We stop the second you say the word. Always.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Then crack a sharp slap landed across her ass. She gasped, hips jolting forward. “Bu-Bucky…”

“You gonna boss me around again?” He asked slapping her ass, then gripping the bruised flesh. “I don’t remember giving you permission to talk to me like that. I saved your fucking life before… do you remember?”

She lifted her head slightly, breathless. “Maybe I like being punished.”

“That’s right,” he rasped. “Because this body? It’s mine now. You only get to act like you’re in charge.”

His chuckle was dark and low and filthy.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he rasped again leaning over her, pressing his cock along the seam of her pussy without entering. “You have no fucking idea what that does to me.”

Before she could reply, he pushed in hard stealing the breath from her lungs.

She cried out, pain and relief at the same time, arching her back to take him deeper.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned. “So desperate for it and still you act like a brat.”

He started thrusting deep, slow, punishing strokes each one knocking her further forward on the bed. His hand gripped the back of her neck, holding her in place like a doll. “You wanna act like a mouthy little thing?” He growled into her ear. “Then I’ll fuck the attitude out of you.”

She gasped, grinding her hips back just to spite him. “Maybe I want you to try.”

Another slap this one harder, across the curve of her ass, the sound echoing in the tiny room. “Careful,” he warned. “I’ll break you in half.”

She smirked into the mattress, panting. “Big words from someone already close to coming.”

That did it.

Bucky grabbed both her wrists, pinning them behind her back with one strong hand. His other hand tangled in her hair, yanking her head back as he slammed into her, over and over, faster and rougher until her moans turned to ragged screams. “Say it again,” he demanded, sweat dripping from his brow. “Tell me how bad you want it. Beg me like the needy little brat you are.”

She was too close and too full and too wrecked to keep her defiance intact. “I want it,” she gasped. “Fuck, Bucky I need it-”

Another slap. Another sharp, blissful sting. She moaned, shaking. “‘Need isn’t good enough,” he growled. “Tell me you belong to me.”

“I’m yo-” She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. She was unravelling. “I belong to you, Bucky. I’m yours. Just please let me come.” He shoved deeper, hips grinding against her ass, the wet sound of their bodies colliding filling the room, obscene and perfect. “Say it louder.”

“I’M YOURS!”

That broke him.

His rhythm turned feral, his fingers bruising against her hips as he fucked her hard and messy and deep, chasing both her orgasms like a man starved. Her legs shook. Her walls clenched. She screamed his name as she came, her whole body tightening like a bowstring then snapping apart beneath him. She felt him pulse inside her moments later a raw, guttural noise tearing from his throat as he came with her, collapsing forward, keeping her caged beneath his body as he filled her.

They both lay there, breathless, soaked in sweat, marked in each other’s prints.

She was still shaking when Bucky pulled out slow and thick and wet making her moan at the loss. Her body was boneless, wrecked, trembling in the aftermath of her orgasm, but he wasn’t done. Not even close. Because this wasn’t just about heat. This was about power. About payback.

And she saw it in his eyes the second he turned her onto her back his pupils blown wide, chest heaving and jaw clenched tight with the restraint he hadn’t yet dropped.

“You think you’re done?” He growled, crawling over her, sweat-slick skin sliding against hers.

“I-”

He grabbed her jaw, forcing her eyes on him. “All those times you gave the orders. Made me wait. Treated me like a subordinate instead of a partner.” She whimpered as he lined himself back up, her body already aching, still sensitive and leaking from the last round. “You liked teasing me in the field, didn’t you?” He said, voice low and dark. “Bossing me around. Making me watch you walk away.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He slammed back into her with a brutal thrust, ripping a gasp from her throat.

“Bucky…” she cried trying to squirm or to adjust but he was relentless deeper than before, fucking her harder now.

“You wanna act like you’re in charge?” He hissed into her neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark. “Then take it.”

She clawed at his back, nails dragging down muscle. “Please don’t stop…”

“Oh no baby,” he snarled. “This is just the beginning don’t worry.”

He sat up on his knees, grabbing her thighs and folding her in half forcing her open. Her hips trembled, overstimulated and exposed.

“You’re gonna lie there and take it,” he said through clenched teeth. “Every. Last. Drop. Until you forget how to boss me around.”

She moaned like she was falling apart, her body shaking with every thrust. Her legs touched at his shoulders so he just grabbed her ankles, pinning them back. His metal hand wrapped around her throat again firm, not tight just enough to make her gasp.

“You’re mine now,” he said, hips snapping mercilessly. “You understand?”

She tried to nod, words gone.

“Say it,” he growled.

“I’m yours,” she gasped, tears prickling in her eyes. “I’m yours, Bucky…fuck…”

He fucked her through it, another orgasm as she didn’t know when the begging started. She just knew she couldn’t stop shaking or moaning.

By the time he flipped her over again face down, ass up, back arched and marked with bruises her voice was wrecked. Every sound she made came out hoarse and breathless, her body trembling from the overstimulation and rough praise he’d dragged out of her.

He settled behind her, kneeling between her thighs. His hands smoothed over the curve of her hips, fingers tracing bruises like they were battle scars he was proud of. Then, without a word, he leaned in and spread her open, dragging his tongue through her soaked folds with slow, deliberate pressure. She gasped high and broken her thighs trying to close instinctively, but his hands kept her wide and vulnerable for him. The flat of his tongue pressed against her clit, flicking, circling, teasing. He moaned into her like he was drunk on her, the vibration of it sending jolts of pleasure straight through her spine.

“Fuck…Bucky,” she cried into the pillow, voice muffled but desperate.

He didn’t stop. He didn’t even slow down. His mouth was relentless tongue plunging deep, then retreating to flick her clit again and again until her hips were shaking. His metal hand gripped her ass tightly, holding her still while his other hand slipped between her thighs, two fingers sliding inside her with ease. He fucked her with his mouth and hand like he meant to break her all over again.

She clawed at the sheets, sobbing out broken curses as he devoured her. Every time she thought she might come down from the edge, he sucked her clit hard enough to make her scream, dragging her higher all over again. Her body wasn’t her own anymore not with the way he worshipped her, wrecked her. Her legs trembled violently, barely holding her up. He moaned into her cunt like he belonged there, like this was exactly where he was meant to be.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he muttered against her, lips slick and voice ruined with heat. “I could stay here forever.”

She sobbed into the mattress, her body shaking uncontrollably, every nerve on fire. And when the yet another orgasm finally hit, it shattered her like lightning. Bucky kept licking her through it, through the aftershocks savoring every drop of her release like it was the only thing that could satisfy him.

Y/N tried to speak, to form a single coherent word maybe a protest, maybe a plea but the pleasure was too much. Her mouth opened, a sound barely escaping nothing more than a whimper caught in her throat. Her mind was fogged, drowning in sensation, every nerve lit up and thrumming like live wire. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe all she could feel was his mouth on her, his fingers deep inside her and the overwhelming heat crashing over her in relentless waves.

“B-Bucky-” she managed to gasp.

Her fingers clawed at the sheets desperate to anchor herself, but her body refused to obey. Her thighs shook, her back arched, and she let out a strangled cry.

He knew.

Of course he did.

He could feel her tightening, hear the breath hitch in her throat, see her hips trying to pull away even as she ground herself against his mouth.

“You gonna fall apart again, sweetheart?” He murmured against her soaked flesh, lips brushing her clit like a tease. “You trying to tell me to stop?”

She shook her head violently, breath catching. “No…please…don’t stop… give me more Bucky… please…”

He growled and then his mouth was back on her harsher, deeper as if he wanted to break every bit of control she had left.

Y/N sobbed into the mattress, trying to say his name but her voice failed her again as pleasure took over.

All that came out were helpless moans, wrecked and breathless.

Her body went limp beneath him, trembling violently and tears pricking at her eyes from the sheer intensity of it all. Bucky just kissed the inside of her thigh, slow and reverent, like he hadn’t just dragged her through the edge of oblivion.

By the time he finally pulled back her thighs were soaked, her body boneless and her breath coming in shallow trembling gasps. He just smirked lips glistening, eyes dark. His palm came down on her ass, sharp and fast. “Pretty little brat,” he grunted. “Finally shut the fuck up.”

She didn’t even know how, but now he owned every inch of her.

Bucky hovered above her, hand stroking her thigh, now gentle. “You still with me, doll?” He asked softly, brushing sweat-soaked hair from her face.

She nodded, eyes half-lidded and body trembling.

He kissed her temple, her cheek, the corner of her lips. “Good,” he whispered. “You did so fucking good for me.”

And this time, when he pulled her into his arms, she didn’t fight it.

She curled against his chest, his warmth sinking into her bones and let herself be held safe and undeniably his.

Y/N had loved Bucky from the beginning with the quiet persistence that didn’t demand anything in return, yet made itself felt in every glance and every small gesture. She was there when he needed her, even when he pretended he didn’t. Maybe that was the problem. To him, her presence had started to feel constant like a shadow at his side. He told himself it was too much, that he needed space. So when the moment came, the words left his mouth before he could stop them. “Look, you’re great. You really are. But you don’t have to be glued to me all the time. I’m not-” “I’m not interested, Y/N.” The silence that followed was deafening. She didn’t fight him, didn’t argue. She just nodded and left, holding herself a little higher than usual. After getting back into his room, that night, Bucky exploded. “Not interested…greatest load of crap I’ve ever said.”  Days turned into weeks and Y/N didn’t hover anymore. Then came the men she dated just for the sake of forgaving him. Little by little, she laughed with strangers and sometimes disappearing for an hour or two before returning hair messy and lipstick smudged. Bucky told himself it wasn’t his business and that she could do whatever she wanted. She didn’t belong to him. One night, she came back with another man. He could picture her smile and hear her soft laugh. He saw her hands on someone else someone who wasn’t him. And the worst part? He had pushed her there. He’d told her he didn’t want her, and she’d let him see just enough to know it. Bucky dropped his head into his hands, chest hollow yet heavy. “She’s not yours,” he whispered to the empty room but when he closed his eyes, all he could see was that look in hers the one that used to feel like it belonged to him. Somewhere deep inside, Bucky Barnes died a little. Then he found a new mission. Not from Fury or Steve. Not weapons or intel. Be forgiven by Y/N. Quietly and patiently and present without pressing, he let her see he wasn’t going anywhere. Slowly piece by piece, her walls lowered. Polite smiles turned real. Short answers became conversations. Sidelines glances grew warmer. Finally one night, she stepped into his arms, face pressed to his chest trusting and alive and still loving him. Bucky closed his eyes, breathing her in, and the quiet truth settled over him like a balm. He was the happiest man alive.

Now they were happy.

Truly and completely happy.

Bucky and Y/N moved through their days like two halves of the same whole in the chaos of missions and training and the endless hum of the world around them.

They found a constant… each other.

Mornings were quiet and soft, with shared coffee and lingering touches before the day fully began. Even small routines of brushing hair from faces, stealing bites of each other’s meals, laughing at jokes that only they understood became anchors in a life that had once been fractured.

Bucky, who had once paced alone in his room whispering apologies to the dark, now fell asleep to the warmth of Y/N in his arms. He felt her heartbeat beneath his hand and finally understood a peace he had spent years chasing.

They fought sometimes about old insecurities and stubbornness didn’t vanish overnight. Every disagreement ended with an understanding and unspoken promise that neither would ever let the other go. Even missions no longer felt as heavy knowing Y/N was waiting for him. When Fury assigned the two of them different mission, she believed in him even when he doubted himself or gave him a strength he hadn’t known he possessed. When the day was done and the world’s noise faded, they returned to their shared space. It was a quiet and private universe of laughter, gentle teasing and the simple joy of being together.

Bucky would hold her close, arms wrapped around her like a shield, while she rested her head against his chest listening to the steady rhythm of a life rebuilt.

No more pushing away.

No more lies to protect himself from the risk of feeling too much.

No more not interested echoes.

Now there was only this love that was patient and kind. A love that endured everything they had been through and still thrived.

Together. Always together.

And Bucky, who had once thought he would never be enough, finally understood that he had been exactly enough all along because she had stayed and they had found their way to each other.

One day, Diane reappeared.

Bucky spotted her first in the training hall. Tall, precise and sharp angles moving like she owned the space. It wasn’t just her posture or the way she carried herself, it was the aura around her.

Top-tier agent now fully trained. Every motion controlled and every glance calculated.

Impeccable. Tough. Severe.

For a moment, Bucky froze.

His hand brushed the edge of the counter he’d been leaning on and he could almost feel the old pull the temptation to get caught up in that easy, fleeting thrill she had always offered. He reminded himself she was nothing compared to Y/N.

Nothing.

Diane’s eyes found him across the room, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. The kind that had once made him feel like he could disappear into her world for a night and forget everything else.

Now there was no warmth in that look, only assessment.

“She’s still good,” Bucky muttered under his breath, not taking his eyes off her.

“She’s dangerous,” Steve said quietly beside him, reading his tension like a book. “Don’t let her shake you.”

Bucky clenched his fists, jaw tight.

Diane had been a distraction before a convenient escape. But now? Now, she was a reminder of what he had once chosen poorly, of a path he had rejected for Y/N.

Y/N appeared beside him, hand brushing his arm lightly, grounding him. Her presence was effortless, natural. She didn’t need to assert dominance or impress anyone. She simply existed and in that existence, she owned him more completely than Diane ever could.

Bucky’s lips pressed into a thin line, a mix of old tension and fresh determination. Diane might have power, prestige, and precision, but Y/N had his heart and that… that was untouchable.

“Let’s not make this awkward,” Y/N whispered, a teasing softness in her voice though he could feel the underlying steel.

Bucky exhaled slowly nodding, feeling the familiar weight of relief settle over him.

Days later, Y/N’s voice drifted from the small corner where she sat with Natasha. Her words soft but weighted with worry.

“What if she’s the one for him?” Y/N asked biting her lip as her hands twisting in her lap.

“Who? Diane?” Nat replied eyebrow raised, tone easy but not unkind.

Bucky froze outside the room, leaning against the doorway invisible but not unheard.

The words hit him like a punch he hadn’t expected, twisting something in his chest. He could hear the faint tremor in Y/N’s voice. She tried to hide the insecurity, the fear and the jealousy. He wanted to step in, to tell her there was nothing she needed to worry about but a deeper and sharper part of him hesitated.

Diane had been dangerously alluring once. She fit a part of him he had never fully understood.

Now Diane was back, polished and lethal, exactly the type of woman Bucky might have fallen for if he weren’t already tethered to Y/N.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, jaw tightening. He hated that she was questioning herself, even in a whisper. Y/N had fought through so much, loved him patiently despite his mistakes and yet here she was, wondering if he’d ever really see her as enough.

He took a slow breath, trying to steady the storm inside him.

Y/N was real. She was the one who had stayed. The one who had forgiven him when he didn’t deserve it. The one who loved him beyond caution or calculation. Bucky’s fists clenched at his sides. He had been so foolish once, pushing her away. He would never do it again.

From the doorway, he whispered almost to himself. “Y/N’s the one. Always has been. Always will be.”

The sound of his own voice startled him. He realized he hadn’t meant to speak aloud and he froze, torn between leaving and revealing himself. He wanted Y/N to know that, wanted her to hear it directly from him, but he also didn’t want to intrude on a conversation that wasn’t meant for his ears.

Instead, he just stayed there as a silent guardian, watching the woman he loved wrestle with her own fears and silently vowed that no Diane, no mission and no distraction would ever pull him away from Y/N again.

He made mistakes.

He chose wrong before.

But now? He knew exactly where he belonged and no shadow from the past would ever change that.

The same night, Bucky’s heart thudded in his chest as Y/N stepped into their room. Her presence both grounding and unnerving. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say a dozen times in his head, hoping to calm the storm between them. “I… I heard you talking with Nat,” he began, voice low, careful. “And I just… I want you to know… you don’t have to worry…”

Y/N cut him off, eyes flashing, hands clenching at her sides. “Be honest with me, Bucky,” she said.

Each word measured but sharp, striking him in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

“Would you be with me... if your relationship with her had been different?”

She stopped. Tears already fillingher eyes.

“You always say I'm the one… that you were blind… that you denied reality but… would you have realized you truly loved me if she hadn’t rejected you? You know you wouldn’t have. You’d still be with her… you’d love her and you’d be happy with her. I'm sure you wouldn’t feel a shred of remorse or shame for everything you’ve said and done to me if she loved you as much as you love her!” 

Bucky was silent, not because he doubted his love for her.

God, no.

He knew deep down, with every fiber of himself, that she was the one.

She was, always had been.

But the words? The right words to make her truly understand? They didn’t come out from his mouth.

He swallowed hard and the weight of her accusation pressing against his chest.

She was right.

If Diane had wanted him, he might have taken the easy path. He might have chosen her, just as he had once convinced himself he wanted. The knowledge of that the memory of his own weakness made him ache with regret so sharp it took his breath away.

“I…” he started, but the sound caught in his throat. His hands clenched into fists at his sides and he paced a small circle.

The room suddenly became too tight and loud with his own failure. Bucky’s silence stretched between them like a canyon and for Y/N it wasn’t comfort or thoughtfulness, it was a wall.

Every second he didn’t speak felt like a confirmation of her worst fears, like maybe she had been right all along.

“You’re quiet,” she said, voice tight, eyes searching his. “And that is what scares me, Bucky. I can’t… I can’t just pretend everything’s fine when you’re standing there like nothing matters.”

He opened his mouth, wanting to reassure her and tell her the truth. His silence wasn’t doubt nor distance from her but, again, the words wouldn’t come.

Y/N’s jaw tightened. She took a step back, the distance between them suddenly feeling necessary, like a shield she had to hold up to protect herself from being hurt again. “I… I think I need some space,” she said whispering. The words trembling but firm. “I can’t keep standing here wondering if you’re really with me or if you’re just… trapped because I’m here and not her.”

Bucky felt his chest tighten, the world narrowing to the space between them.

Her words were fair.

Brutally fair.

They cut deeper than any physical wound he had ever known. “Y/N” he began, but she shook her head.

“Please, Bucky,” she said softly, almost pleading, “You didn’t speak for an entire minute. I need to think and I need to figure out if I can trust what you say or… if I’m just convincing myself of something that isn’t true.”

Her hands shook slightly as she gathered herself, then she turned and walked toward the door.

Each step felt like a punch to him, a reminder of every misstep. Bucky’s fists clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms.

He wanted to run after her, to explain and beg for just a few more seconds but he also knew she needed space even if it was the hardest thing in the world to give.

He sank onto the edge of the bed, head in his hands, letting the silence press down on him. His chest ached with regret and love. Each beat a reminder that he had to find a way to fix this.

To earn her trust again.

To show her, in actions if not words, she was the only one.

Somewhere deep inside, a stubborn and unyielding thought took root. He would wait and fight for her patience and her forgiveness because no matter the silence or the distance she demanded, Bucky Barnes would never stop being hers.

Days passed, each one stretching longer than the last.

Bucky had kept his distance, honoring Y/N’s request for space but every hour apart felt like a weight pressing into his chest.

He didn’t dare call or text, not wanting to push her further, yet the silence gnawed at him like a phantom limb he couldn’t ignore.

Y/N, meanwhile, wrestled with her own emotions. She never doubted the depth of her feelings for Bucky. She knew, with a certainty that hadn’t wavered since the beginning, that he was hers but her mind refused to stay quiet about Diane The woman who had once captivated him, even if fleetingly.

On top of that now there was someone new, or rather someone who had stepped into her world more directly.

Agent Grant Ward.

He had arrived at SHIELD earlier that week, assigned to work directly with her on a sensitive mission. He was competent, charming in a measured and precise way. Relentless in his attention. Y/N had worked with plenty of agents before but there was something about Ward’s focus, that set her nerves on edge. Maybe the way he watched her when she briefed the team or the subtle ease with which he seemed to slip into her space.

It wasn’t that she wanted him. She didn’t, but she couldn’t stop the creeping doubt whenever Bucky’s name surfaced in her mind.

If he hadn’t been so far away giving her space that now felt endless, maybe she wouldn’t feel so… fragile, so insecure.

Grant, of course, didn’t know any of this. He assumed her reserved reactions were just part of her professional composure and Y/N didn’t correct him nor explain herself. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t because no one else could understand what Bucky meant to her, how he anchored her heart even in his absence.

Bucky heard about Ward from mutual contacts and small snippets during missions he couldn’t avoid.

Each time, a flicker of unease lit his chest not because he feared Ward’s competence or charm, but because he couldn’t reach Y/N. Couldn’t tell her, in person, that Diane was nothing. That no one could ever touch what they had.

Y/N, juggling Ward’s professional presence with her own spiraling insecurities, found herself growing quieter and more hesitant in ways that didn’t escape Bucky’s careful observations.

He wasn’t there, but he was always watching and waiting. Every laugh she shared with Ward or every shared glance over briefing documents, carved a pang into him he couldn’t name.

And still, through all of it, Y/N’s heart whispered the truth she tried not to voice.

Bucky was hers.

Always.

Her mind, haunted by the ghosts of Diane and shadowed by Ward’s proximity, refused to let her trust completely.

Bucky knew that the coming days would test them both in ways far deeper than any mission.

Ward’s presence was impossible to ignore. He was always close, leaning just a little too casually over Y/N’s shoulder during mission briefings offering comments laced with charm, laughter that lingered a beat too long. He was shameless in his attention, and Y/N, despite herself, felt the familiar prick of unease whenever he was near.

Bucky, hidden just out of sight on a nearby mission or in the training wing when their paths crossed, felt his jaw tighten every time he caught one of Ward’s smirks aimed at her. He told himself to stay calm and to be patient, to respect the space she had asked for but every careless touch, every sly compliment, felt like a spark to the powder keg of his own insecurities.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath one evening as Ward laughed a little too freely at something Y/N had said. Bucky gritted his teeth, flexing his hands until his knuckles ached. “Stay calm, Barnes. She’s yours. Stay the hell out of it until she’s ready.”

The instinct to protect and to claim making sure no one dared cross the invisible line he and Y/N shared, roared louder with each passing day.

He watched Ward brush a strand of hair from Y/N’s face, heard his low, teasing comment that made her laugh softly. The sight twisted something in Bucky’s chest jealousy but also fear.

Fear that her mind, unsettled by his silence, might start to question what she already knew in her heart.

He fought against it. He reminded himself of the distance she wanted, of the patient mission he had taken on to earn her trust back. He forced his fingers to unclench, forced his feet to stay planted instead of storming over and forced his mouth to stay shut.

Ward, confident and sly, misread Y/N’s professionalism as potential interest.

One evening, while they were alone reviewing mission data, he leaned closer letting his hand brush hers accidentally or so he claimed. His words carried that low, calculated charm he wielded like a weapon but Y/N didn’t flinch or blush.

She didn’t entertain him for even a second. Her sharp eyes met his, steady and unwavering and a quiet unspoken warning burned there. “You really think you have a chance?” She asked softly, almost to herself, but with enough edge that Ward caught it. “My heart isn’t something you can take. It’s not for anyone. Certainly not you.”

Ward’s confident smile faltered, just for a moment, because in that look he saw the invisible line he couldn’t cross the line Bucky had already drawn without being present.

“She’s mine,” he whispered to the empty room later that night, pacing his small bedroom alone, the words tasting bitter. “Always has been. Always will be. Just… don’t screw it up, Barnes. Don’t push. Let her see it herself.”

Even as he whispered it, Bucky knew the battle wasn’t just against Ward. It was against his own impulsive, possessive instincts. Against the fear that he had already lost her trust once, and that one careless moment now could undo everything he had spent weeks rebuilding. So he stayed silent and patient. He stayed near enough to see and know, but far enough that Y/N could breathe.

He decided to release some of his tension. The sound of leather hitting leather echoed around the empty room, but it did little to drown out the pain in his chest.

The door opened.

He stopped mid-strike.

Diane.

She stepped inside, completely naked and unashamed.

Every movement deliberate.

She didn’t hide herself or pretend innocence.

It wasn’t about seduction. It was about control, about daring him to react.

Her presence filled the room in a way that no weapon or barrier could.

“I saw you broke up with the little girl,” she said voice low and measured. “Didn’t you used to call her clingy?”

Bucky’s hands clenched into fists not around the bag this time, but around his own restraint.

The sight of her was meant to provoke and to test him and yet, he felt nothing but the sharp edge of annoyance and the deep unwavering certainty of where his heart truly lay. “You’re not going to get to me with this. And we didn’t broke up.” He said firmly, his voice steady despite the tension in his muscles.

Diane smirked, circling him slowly, like a challenge made flesh. “You say that now… but I remember how easily you fell for me. Don’t tell me you’ve really changed.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. He thought of Y/N; her laugh, her kindness, the unwavering devotion in her eyes.

Diane could throw herself at him, strip away the layers of past temptation, but it didn’t matter. Y/N was his anchor.

“I made my choice a long time ago,” he said quietly, but with steel in his tone. “And it wasn’t you.”

Her smirk faltered, just slightly, but her challenge remained. “Are you sure about that? I may be ready to take the next step, Barnes…”

“That’s the point. Y/N was already ready for the next step,” Bucky replied, unflinching. “Completely. I’m done with the past. I’m with someone who matters. That’s final.”

For the first time Diane hesitated, realizing that her nakedness and her boldnesswas powerless against what Bucky had chosen.

Bucky let the silence stretch. He didn’t need to raise his voice or make a scene. In the calm that followed, the message was clear.

No matter how provocative and how daring Diane could be, she could never compete with Y/N.

Diane was circling Bucky, her presence audacious and deliberate, when a flicker of movement caught her eye.

Someone was coming down the hall.

Her eyes widened slightly as they landed on Y/N, who had stopped just outside the gym, watching the scene unfold.

For a brief, instinctive moment, Diane’s body language shifted she almost lunged toward Bucky, still completely naked.

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock.

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest because she saw exactly what Diane intended, to force Bucky into a reaction and to claim a psychological victory.

Fear and panic and jealousy flooded through Y/N. She couldn’t stand to watch, couldn’t bear the thought of seeing Diane on himeven if it was only a provocation. Without thinking, she spun on her heel and rushed out of the gym, her footsteps echoing down the hall.

“Y/N!” Bucky yelled immediately, his voice breaking through the space between them. He dropped the straps he’d been using and sprinted toward the doorway. “Wait! Don’t go!”

But she didn’t stop.

Her chest heaved as she kept moving, trying to put distance between herself and the tension that Diane had so deliberately created. Bucky froze for a split second, anger and concern mixing in his chest. Then he ran after her, knowing he had to reach her before panic took over completely. His mind spun with frustration at Diane’s audacity and guilt that Y/N had even seen that moment.

“Y/N, listen to me!” He called again, his voice firmer this time, full of command but also care. “It’s not what it looks like. You know me! You know where my heart is!”

Outside the gym, Y/N leaned against the wall trying to calm herself. She could hear Bucky’s voice behind the door, steady and demanding but she couldn’t bring herself to look back yet.

Bucky’s hands gripped the doorframe as he came up beside her. “I’m not going to let her play with us,” he said, voice low but intense. “I don’t want her. I don’t want anyone but you.” Y/N finally turned, tears threatening to spill and Bucky stepped closer. “You’re the one I love. You’re the one I’m with. You’re the only one I want. Do you understand?”

“Doesn’t… doesn’t seem like you want me,” she whispered, her voice small but sharp with hurt.

Before Bucky could answer, she turned on her heel again and sprinted down the hall, heading for her room. The sound of her rapid footsteps echoed like a warning.

“Y/N, wait!” Bucky called, panic rising in his chest. He ran after her but she had already slammed the door behind her. He stopped outside, his hand frozen in the air, knuckles brushing the frame.

Inside Y/N leaned against the door, her chest heaving trying to catch her breath while tears pricked the corners of her eyes. Her mind raced, picturing Diane’s audacious provocation in the gym and despite knowing her heart belonged to Bucky, insecurity and jealousy clawed at her.

Bucky’s voice came through the door, steady but tinged with urgency. “Y/N, look at me. Please. It’s not what it looked like. You’re the one I want. Always you.”

There was silence for a moment, heavy and tense. Y/N shook her head biting her lip, unsure if words could bridge the sudden chasm of doubt Diane had tried to create.

“I… I just…” she whispered, voice cracking, “I can’t… I need… space.” She said through the door. 

That word.

Space.

Again.

Bucky’s chest tightened, every instinct screaming at him to reach her. “I get it,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “I’ll give you space but don’t forget this… I love you, Y/N. No one else matters.”

Outside the room he sank to the floor, leaning against the wall. His mind replaying Diane’s presence and Y/N’s reaction. He had never felt so aware of how fragile her trust could feel and how fiercely he wanted to protect it.

The next morning was waird, but not like the night before when panic and adrenaline had propelled her from the gym. This was quieter, slower, but heavier.

Y/N woke with a tightness in her chest, her mind unwilling to release the image of Diane’s naked body, the way she had moved so deliberately and the way she had gripped Bucky’s arm as if trying to claim him. The memory gnawed at her, despite knowing, deep down that Bucky’s heart had never wavered.

She sat on the edge of her bed in the Avengers compound, sunlight spilling through the window but doing nothing to lighten the weight on her chest. Her fingers absently twisted the sheets as she tried to calm herself.

Even surrounded by her teammates and the hum of the compound, she felt isolated and trapped in the turmoil Diane had stirred.

Noticing the time, she knew Bucky was training. She could hear the sound of the punching bag thumping echoed faintly through the corridors, as a rhythm that matched the tension in Y/N’s chest.

The compound should have felt safe.

It should have felt like home, but in that moment it was just walls and doors and the echo of her own insecurities, amplified by the previous day’s events.

She closed her eyes, taking a shaky breath. “It’s ridiculous,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. “He’s my boyfriend… I know it. He’s mine.”

The mental image lingered stubbornly, unrelenting. Diane had intended it that way, she realized a provocation.

Y/N’s chest tightened again from the vulnerability of knowing how easily someone could try to shake them apart. Somewhere deep down, she knew she needed to confront the fear rather than let it fester but now, she sat in silence letting the weight of the morning settle around her.

She could hear the distant hum of the compound coming to life the clatter of training, footsteps in the halls, voices of her teammates.

Bucky’s presence was felt even when he wasn’t there. She knew he was in the gym, that he was working through his own frustration and lingering guilt over Diane’s intrusion. They were connected, even across the halls and even in silence.

She took another deep breath and whispered to herself. “I have to trust him. I have to.”

Even in the compound surrounded by friends, the morning was rough but it was also the start of something. It was the quiet reaffirmation that, no matter what shadows tried to enter their lives, Bucky was a man of words and his words were only for her.

By mid-morning, Diane finally appeared in the kitchen, fully dressed and impeccably put together as if the previous night’s audacious display had never happened. Her presence was magnetic commanding every movement.

She didn’t just walk in, she entered owning the space giving orders. Her tone clipped and efficient, to someone who looked more like a secretary than an agent. Y/N watched from across the room, jaw tightening with every command Diane barked.

The confidence, the control, the way people obeyed her immediatelyit all ignited a bitter heat in Y/N’s chest.

She hated her.

That wasn’t confidence, that was arrogance.

Diane was exactly the kind of person Bucky might have been drawn to before, before he had realized what or who he truly wanted. He spent 70 and more years circled by people like that. 

Y/N’s fingers clenched around the edge of the counter, nails digging shallow crescents into her palm.

She told herself to breathe and to not let Diane’s presence rattle her but every instinct screamed at her.

Diane glanced casually in her direction, as if aware of the scrutiny and Y/N felt herself shrink under the calculated calm of those eyes.

Diane didn’t smile or approach. She just stood there, poised and untouchable, as a reminder of all Y/N feared.

Y/N hated Diane, yes. That was the only thing she knew in that moment.

More than that, she hated the fear Diane had planted along with the self-doubt that now clung to her like a shadow.

Bucky entered the kitchen, his footsteps quiet but purposeful. He immediately spotted Y/N across the room, standing stiffly by the counter, jaw tight and eyes flicking toward Diane.

His chest tightened.

He could feel the tension radiating off her like heat from a furnace.

“Y/N,” he said softly, stepping closer careful not to crowd her. “Hey… you okay?”

Y/N didn’t turn to face him right away. She gripped the edge of the counter, her knuckles white. “I’m fine,” she muttered, though the sharp edge in her voice betrayed her.

Bucky sighed, leaning against the counter beside her. “I know it’s… difficult,” he said carefully. “But I’m right here. You don’t have to let her get to you… please let me help you… I miss you so much…” he begged.

Y/N finally met his gaze, eyes wide and conflicted. “It’s not just that,” she admitted. Her voice softer now but laced with unease. “It’s everything. Last night, this morning… it’s like she’s everywhere… like she’s trying to prove something.”

Bucky reached for her hand, gently brushing his fingers over hers. “I get it and I hate that she made you feel like that, but… none of it changes anything. You’re the one I want. You’re the one I’ve always wanted.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered down to their hands, then back up at him. Her chest heaved slightly. “I know my heart belongs to you,” she whispered. “But it’s hard… seeing what she represents.”

Bucky squeezed her hand, his voice steady and low. “Then let me fight for you… with you. Not anyone else, not anyone pretendingjust us. You and me. Always.”

Y/N’s lips trembled into a small, uncertain smile but it was enough for Bucky to know she needed reassurance and enough for her to know he wouldn’t let Diane or anyone take her from him.

Diane noticed the subtle closeness between Y/N and Bucky as they stood in the kitchen. The way their hands touched, along the quiet focus in Bucky’s gazeit irked her, challenged her.

With a sly, almost predatory smile, she stepped closer. Her voice light but loaded with implication. “Bucky,” Diane purred. “We should talk about last night. You seemed… unsettled. I can help you unwind.”

Y/N’s head snapped up, eyes blazing.

What a bitch, she thought.

She had held her composure for too long, swallowed her insecurities and let Diane’s presence intimidate her far more than it deserved.

Not anymore.

“Back off, Diane,” Y/N said, her voice sharp and unwavering. “This isn’t about you. You think you can just step in and… what? Claim him? That’s not how it works. He’s mine.”

The words hit Diane like a wall, her confident smirk faltering for just a second.

Bucky, still holding Y/N’s hand, gave her a small and reassuring squeeze letting her know she wasn’t alone in this.

Y/N’s chest rose and fell rapidly, the fire in her veins turning her fear into anger. “I’ve been patient. I’ve been quiet but I’m done letting you or anyone else make me doubt myself. Bucky loves me and I don’t need to compete for him.”

Diane straightened, regaining her poise but the challenge was clear in Y/N’s eyes.

There was no hesitation, no uncertainty but only the fierce assertion that Bucky’s heart belonged to her and no one else.

“You had your chance with him, Diane. You chose to walk away when it didn’t suit you. And now? Now I get to be with Bucky, the man you thought you could toy with. I had to watch him flirt with you… laugh with you… hold your hand and I survived it. You? You lost him. You always lose.”

Diane opened her mouth, a sharp retort on her lips but Bucky’s hand on her shoulder stopped her mid-word.

His voice broke the tense silence, calm but resolute. “That’s enough, Diane. I care about Y/N. She’s the one I’m with. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”

Diane’s lips pressed into a thin line. She nodded once, silently acknowledging the truth she couldn’t touch, and backed away.

Y/N’s anger didn’t fade immediately but it turned into something steadier like stronger ownership and confidence. The knowledge that she had finally drawn the line.

Bucky pulled her gently into his side as they saw Diane getting out the kitchen, letting her lean against him. “See?” He murmured. “Nothing to worry about.”

Y/N exhaled, her anger melting into relief and for the first time since Diane had reappeared, she felt entirely safe in their spacetogether.

Bucky froze catching just now Y/N’s words, his hand tightening slightly around her.

What she said hit him like a thunderclapsharp, raw and impossibly real. He hadn’t expected that fire from her, that unwavering clarity. He was used to her attentions and her not so subtle hesitations, but this was a force he couldn’t ignore.

For a moment, he simply stared. His mind scrambling to catch up.

Y/N, angry and resolute, had drawn a line so clear that Diane’s presence seemed almost laughable in comparison and Bucky felt a pang of awe and pride, mixed with that familiar ache of regret for all the times he had failed to recognize her strength.

“Y/N…” he breathed, voice low almost reverent. His chest ached, not with fear or frustration but with the overwhelming realization of just how much she mattered to him. “I…wow… you don’t know how much that means.”

She looked up at him, eyes still fiery but softened slightly as she saw the vulnerability in his expression. “You should know, Bucky. You’ve always known deep down.”

He pulled her into his arms, careful and deliberate, as if holding her could somehow make up for every moment of doubts and missteps. “I don’t deserve you sometimes,” he murmured against her hair. “But I promise… I’m here. Always.”

Y/N relaxed slightly into his embrace, letting the anger fade into the reassurance that Bucky’s words offered.

For the first time since Diane’s reappearance, he felt entirely present and devoted and utterly stunned by the strength and certainty of the woman in his arms.

When she reached their bedroom that night, he was already there leaning against the dresser arms crossed. His hair was mussed, jaw tight and eyes dark and feral.

Y/N noticed the shift in the air.

After she snapped at Diane in the kitchen, they both didn’t fully talk about the gym incident, so the anger got stuck in her all day long. 

“Hey,” he started softly despite his darkish look in his eyes. Her not immediately reply, told him what he already knew. He was already sensing the storm inside her. The linger anger and the image of Diane in the gym.

“Don’t,” she snapped, voice trembling. “Don’t start with your so soft fucking tones. Don’t try to calm me before I even get to calm myself. I stood up for us… it’s true but I didn’t forget the gym…” she said deep breathing. 

Her eyes stood up, lining with his. She looked at him, anger quickly raising inside her. She threw herself onto him, pushing him.

“HAVE YOU THOUGHT ABOUT WHAT I FELT SEEING YOU THERE WITH HER?” She yelled.

Her tiny but strong fists on his chest. She was a trained Avenger, but he was a super soldier. He could have stopped her in a second, but the hurt look in her eyes told him something he sensed. She needed this, she needed this kinda of violence. Needed to let it out all. He was more than willing to accept it.

“I SAW MY FUCKING NIGHTMARE COMING TO LIFE… WHAT THE FUCK WAS SHE DOING NAKED? WHY THE HELL DIDN’T YOU MOVED? GOT OUT? WHY BUCKY?” 

Her hands now grabbed the collar of his shirt. She pulled him toward her face, his nose touching hers. “Why, Bucky? Please tell me…” she left his shirt, and moved far from him. 

He streched his shirt back, and Bucky’s metal hand hovered near his face then flexed in the air in frustration. “Y/N…” His voice was low, strained as he was keeping himself from snapping. A quiet growl under the surface. “I… I didn’t want her to…”

She stood in front of him. “Yeah, I noticed you didn’t want that but I still didn’t like it. I didn’t like that part of me that twisted just thinking about it. I didn’t like the way she stood there fucking naked circling you as a predator. She touched your fucking arm as she intended to fucking bring you in her fucking bed…”

“I don’t know why she did that…” Bucky said, looking down.

His fist were closed, long arms near his hips. He wanted to touch her, feel her and kiss her. She was so angry yet so beautiful. Her full lips yelling every kinda of shit she tought about him. He didn't care.

“TO LET YOU SEE HER NAKED, MAYBE? YOU DUMBASS…” She yelled, then pause. “I know you already saw her naked… but in that fucking gym you could have done something… instead you were there… frozen… looking at her…” she finished, teeth gritted. 

Bucky stepped closer, each motion measured but impossible to ignore. “YOU THINK I WANTED THAT?” Now it was his turn to yell. His eyes, shining with a heat that made her knees weak, held hers. “YOU THINK I LOOK AT HER LIKE I LOOK AT YOU…” 

After everything happened between us, Bucky thought.

“You know what?” Bucky moved, now closer to her. “I don’t know what I should do to make you believe me… I’m willing do anything,” he spit her anger toward her, quickly became a beg for the woman he loved.

He towered over her and her breath stuck into her throat but the anger burned despite the embarrassment. “You were distant,” she explained. She held her arms up as she wanted to distancing. He remained there, in front of her smelling her scent and stairing into her eyes. She didn’t oppose when he didn’t move nor her was able to move a six feet tall super soldier.

“Yes, I know… I asked you space… but it was like you were gone Bucky… and now she-”

“Shut the hell up,” he growled, cutting her words.

He was willing to do anything for her, except being there listening this load of crap. He slid his arm on her shoulders and pushed her until her back touched the wall. He caged her head, both hands on the sides of her face trapping her with his presence. She looked up at him. His breathe hitched, his chest moving and his hand bracing her. 

Bucky’s chest touched hers and she felt his muscles under the shirt. He moved his flesh hand, caressing her cheek. His thumb reached for a tear escaping her eye. He then kissed the spot before positioning the hand where it was. The other hand, the metal one, brushed a loose strand of hair from her face.

“No one else. No one but you. You hear me? There’s literally no fucking else on this fucking planet,” he said. 

He took her hand, tiny and fragile into his, and put on his chest where his heart was beating. 

“Do you feel this?” He asked her, looking into her eyes. “This heart beats for you. Only you and no one else,” he pressed your hand more, as he wanted you to touch is heart under the shirt and flesh and skin. “I am so fucking sorry for how I treated you. I love you Y/N… do you get this? I am no one without you.”

The raw intensity in his voice made her stomach clench. He lowered his mouth to hers, lips brushing teasing and testing like he could feel the tension coiled inside her. She didn’t resist, desperate for some sort of grounding.

“Been on my mind, doll,” he murmured against her lips, tone dark and feral. “All this space… all this distance… I’ve wanted you. Missed you. Needed you.” His hand gripped his chin, forcing her to look at him. Her heart hammering. “I don’t want to share my time with anyone. Not her, not anyone else.”

“Then don’t.”

His lips finally fully crashed onto hers, angry and possessive. His metal hand tangled in her hair pulling her closer, forcing her back more against the wall.

“You’re mine, Y/N. Mine and I’m not letting anyone, anyone, take you from me.” He growled. His eyes dark.

The pressure of his body, the dominance in his stance, the possessive gleam in his eyes made the knot of frustration in her chest snap. Heat flared low in her stomach.

She was wet just from the intensity of his claiming, and from the way his hand roamed with deliberate attention.

“C’mere,” he growled, dragging her closer to his body.

She crushed on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under his hard muscles. His fingers slipped under her shirt brushing over her ribs and belly, teasing. He quickly rolled it up until it was completely off. Then, he quickly removing her pants and underwear. She stood there in front of him, naked a waiting.

“You are a fucking vision, Y/N.” He kissed her neck, then lick a long stripe till her lobe which he bit a little. 

He lowered his lips grabbing a nipple, already hard, with his teeth. He bit and licked it, as Y/N was beginning to lose her mind. His warm and welcoming tongue made her back arched into his chest. He left it and took the other nipple in his mouth, granting it the same treatment. Once he was satisfied, he grabbed her boobs and crushed his face into them. He kneaded your chest, licking every part of your skin.

When he stood, towering again over you, his had wandered down. He grazed her belly button and lower stomach first, then found her slit. The first touch was like fire. His thumb circling her clit while his fingers pressed inside her hole.

“Worked up over me already, huh?” He murmured, lips brushing her ear. “Little jealous thing… can’t stand the thought of someone else having me. I like that. I like knowing how much you need me.”

Her knees buckled, hips arching into his touch following his rhythm.

He smirked. “Good girl… taking my fingers. You’re so wet for me, Y/N.”

His metal fingers curled inside her just right. His thumb rubbing again, faster this time, while his other hand gripped her hip keeping her trapped there. She whimpered and her body trembled. He chuckled low in her ear. “Still think she matters?” He whispered, voice husky. “Still think that matters? Because all I see is you… mine… begging for me.”

He knelt on the floor, in front of her. He looked at her through his long lashes, licking his lips. He kissed her tight, then the other one. He lift her leg, securing it on his shoulder. Taking a deep breathe of her scent, he devoured her. His tongue slid into her folds, already wet from his finger. He reached again for her boobs, grabbing them both with his hands. As he pinched her nipples, she grabbed a fist of his hair. He growled into her pussy. 

“Keep me lock here, doll.” He muttered against her. 

She tightened the fist feeling her orgasm came out. A warmth inside her, rising till her brain completely shut down. Her legs trembling, the one on his shoulder menacing to fall. He grabbed it keeping it there. 

“You will come now on my tongue.” He ordered.

She did. 

He lifted her effortlessly, once she finished trembling. He set her on the mattress and stood for a second looking at her. A moaning mess, legs spread and chest rising. He moved his metal hand behind and took off the shirt from his collar, then boots and pants and boxer. He remained there, naked in all his glory. 

Y/N licked her lips looking at him. 

“Like what you see?” He asked her, hand already on his cock.

“You know the answer, soldier.”

He smiled, dark and promising then began stroaking his cock. He did it for her, thinking at her and looking at her. His eyes never once lose her. She rose on her elbow, trembling a little. She was now used to see him naked, but a part of her was always a little intimidating by the strenght and beauty of this man. 

In a rush of adrenaline, she sat fully on the bed then turned and knelt in front of him. Standing on the matress, she reached his chest so she had to look up at him. Her hand went down, as she kept his gaze on him knowing he loved it. The moment his fingers grazed his cock, Bucky closed his eeys for a second but quickly opened them again as she squeezed his lenght. 

“Sorry, doll.” He moaned. 

“Much better,” she purred.

His now fully hard cock slid into her closed fist. She was playing with him and he let her do it. Her thumb pressed on his tip and as she sqeezed more and more he growled and moaned harder. A guttural sound coming from inside. 

She moved closer, if that was still possibile, and looking up at him she rested her chin on his chest. Her big and dark eyes met his as he looked down. He grabbed her face with both hand and kissed her. He dove his tongue in her mouth, clashing teeth and bited lips. 

Once he felt his pleasure rising, he stiffened. She knew the signs and pressed on his cock more. Now her other hand went directly to his balls, playing with them. He felt her squeeze him and came on her hand. It was an instant. No other woman made Bucky felt that way. 

Not even Diane was able to. 

Once she was satified with that, she left his cock and laid down on the bed. She then perched his foot on his tight, he grabbed it by her ankle and massage it. As much as she knew what he liked it, he knew what she liked it too. His fingers, both metal and flesh, pressed more into her leg. She felt a coil of pleasure rising her, just from his touch. 

He was never satisfied when it came to her, so her moved his hands higher to her core, still sensitive and throbbing. She relaxed more on the bed, spreading her legs more giving him the permission he needed. With swift and practiced movements, he pushed his finger again into her smirking and dominating her with both praise and primal taunt. “You’re so tight, doll. Did you think for one second I’d let her… touch me again?”

His words drove into her as her hips slammed. 

“Look at me,” he growled. “See me. Feel me. You’re jealous? Good. Makes me feral. Makes me wanna fucking you as you belong to me.”

Every movement was deliberate and possessive and praising. She gasped whining, clinging to him and pulling him down to her as he played with his finger into her. Her previous orgasm still lingering in her. The combination of his domination and raw reassurance melting her jealousy into urgent need. By the time she came again for the overstimulation, shaking and breathless, he was groaning deep in her ear holding her tight and whispering against her temple.

His voice was now the thing keeping her grounded. “See? All mine. Only you. Always.”

She was still whining, breath ragged and body sticky and sensitive but Bucky wasn’t done.

He shifts over her, metal hand pressing firmly against her throat not to hurt but to claim, grounding her. “You feel that?” He growled, hips nudging against hers, feeling the wetness still dripping between her thighs. “Still think about her? Don’t, you’re and mine. Every fucking inch of you.”

She whimpered, arching into him. “I need you… Bucky please fuck me…”

The words are breathless, desperate. Her hands fumble over his chest clutching him.

Bucky smirked, low and primal. “You’re such a little brat when you’re jealous… I fucking love it. Makes me want to fuck you harder then take you again and make sure you remember exactly who owns you.”

He moved down lips tracing a hot line along her collarbone, over her breasts teasing the nipples under his tongue. One hand slid down again pressing his fingers into her slit, curling just right, while the other pinned her hip.

“God, look at you… still dripping for me… needy little thing,” he growled. “You love this, don’t you? Love being reminded that you’re mine?”

“Yes,” she cried, bucking against him. “Please…”

Bucky laughed, dark and deep. The sound vibrating through her. “Oh, I will. But this time? I’m not holding back.”

He positioned himself at her entrance, teasing her slick folds with the tip of his cock. He dragged it slowly over her sensitive skin. “All this time, all this jealousy… it’s making me feral, Y/N. You have no idea what you do to me.” 

She whined more as he pressed the tip of his cock but not pushing inside it. “Bucky,” she started shaking. “Fuck…” 

“Needy… I see…” he smirked, then he pushed in full and hard, filling her completely.

Her cry of pleasure was immediate as her body trembling against his. She jolted up, arms around his neck and her hips grounding and rolling following his movements. He didn’t give her a moment to adjust. Not this time. He started moving, powerful but relatively slow thrusts at first but faster. Each one deliberate, claiming her with every inch. His hands kept her thighs spread open for him. He poundered into her needy and warm core. 

“You’re mine,” he growled into your ear, teeth grazing her earlobe. “Say it. Say it like you mean it.”

“Y-yes! I’m yours! Only yours!” She cried nails digging into his shoulders. Her body trembling under his control.

“Good girl,” he praised first then smirks, lips brushing her jaw. “Mine… and I’m going to fuck all this tension and jealousy, right out of you.”

His thrusts became a relentless rhythm, part punishment and part worship, every motion taunting and praising. Flesh fingers now digging into her hips, metal hand tangled in her hair as he leans down pressing hot and demanding kisses to her neck. “Feel that?” He hissed, voice low and primal. “All this heat, all this wetness… for me. Just for me. You’re mine, Y/N. Mine.”

He paused, gaze darkening, and leans closer. His teeth grazed her ear. “If that Agent Ward…” He stopped for a second sensing her clenchin and watching her reaction, a smirk tugging at his lips. She whined, breath catching. “…comes near you again, I’ll fuck you in front of him.”

“Move Bucky… please…” she begged. 

“I love when you beg,” he said rolling his hips lighlty. “Say you understood…”

The words hit her like fire. Her thighs trembling around him as his hands tightened on her hips. 

“YES YES YES… NOW MOVE PLEASE… I’M COMING… BUCKY PLEASE…”

“Mine,” he growled again, punctuating the claim and the warning and the promise all at once. He moved his hips once more, catching again the rhythm. She clenched around him, feeling her third orgasm hitting harder.

Suddenly, wave after wave of trembling pleasure, he followed her groaning deep as he kept her pinned riding her through every shudder.

Afterward he collapsed on top of her, holding her close. His forehead pressed to hers. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, fingers tracing lazy circles on her back. “Mine. Always. Don’t let anyone make you doubt it ever again.”

You laid tangled in the sheets, chest heaving trying to breathe normally again.

Bucky was still hovering over her, metal hand brushing stray hair from her damp forehead. His lips pressed soft lingering kisses along her jaw. “You okay?” He murmured voice low, rough from exertion.

She let out a shaky laugh, tail end of her arousal still pulsing through her veins. “I… I’m not totally against that thing in front of him, you know?” She teased. A mischievous glint in her eye as her hand drifted over his chest.

Bucky’s eyebrows rose and he smirked, dark and amused. “Oh? You trying to make me feral all over again?” His thumb traced lazy circles over her hip, making her shiver.

“Maybe,” she admitted voice soft, breathless but playful. “Depends on how feral you get…”

He chuckled, pulling her closer, forehead pressed to hers. “Depends on how jealous I can get… but no matter what, you’re mine. Always.”

She smiled against him, chest rising and falling with his and for a long moment, the room was just the two of you tangled together.

The tension now replaced with warmth and laughter and lingering heat… and love.

The elevator doors slid open, and there he was.

Bucky Barnes.

Six feet of leather jacket, soft hair and the kind of smile that made Y/N’s knees wobble like Jell-O in an earthquake.

“Morning, doll,” he greeted warmly, holding the doors with one hand.

She stepped inside, plastering on her most dazzling smile. “If you keep calling me doll, I might just take it as a marriage proposal.

Bucky chuckled that deep, rumbling sound she adored but shook his head. “Pretty sure you’d want a better proposal than me holding elevator doors.”

“Not true. I’d marry you in an elevator right now if you asked,” she said, leaning casually against the wall, eyes sparkling with challenge.

He just smirked, pressing the button for the lobby. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not asking.”

She pouted dramatically. “You wound me, Barnes.”

“You’ll survive,” he replied, utterly unfazed, glancing down at his phone.

The rest of the ride was quiet, except for Y/N’s internal monologue screaming why is he immune to me?

Every compliment, every teasing remark, every accidental touch, he always just… sidestepped.

Not cruelly.

Not awkwardly.

Just… friendly.

Like she was his teammate, his buddy.

When they stepped out into the lobby, she tried again. “You know,” she started, falling into step beside him, “if you ever need a date for anything… wedding, gala, spy mission-”

“I’ll keep you in mind,” he interrupted with a polite smile. “See you tonight, Y/N.”

And then he was gone, disappearing into the morning crowd before she could toss another flirt his way. She sighed, watching him go. Head over heels for a man who didn’t even realize he was breaking her heart one smile at a time.

It had been a long day.

Too many missions, too many briefings and now the whole team was crammed into the training room while Steve droned on about tactical efficiency.

Y/N sat on the bench beside Bucky, leaning just a little too close and her shoulder brushing his.

She was tired but the habit was like muscle memory. She was now teasing and smiling and trying to get just one reaction out of him that wasn’t just polite warmth.

“Careful, Barnes,” she murmured as he adjusted his gloves, “one more sparring session with me and you might fall in love.”

Normally, he’d chuckle, shake his head, maybe give her one of those small grins that kept her up at night but this time, he froze. “Y/N,” he said, his voice sharper than she’d ever heard it.

She blinked. “Yeah?”

“Do you ever… stop?”

Her smile faltered. “Stop what?”

“This.” He gestured between them, exhaling in frustration. “The flirting. The jokes. The clinginess. I get it, you’re friendly but I just… I can’t breathe sometimes.”

The room felt suddenly too quiet, the air too thin.

Her heart thudded once, painfully, before she managed a small nod. “I didn’t… I didn’t realize I was bothering you.”

“You’re constantly in my face. The flirting, the little comments, the hovering... it’s exhausting. I can’t take two steps without you right there, like a shadow I can’t get rid of!” His voice rose, sharp.

Her chest tightened, but she tried to laugh it off. “Bucky, I’m just-”

“Just what? Playing some game? You think it’s cute? It’s not. It’s annoying. You don’t even give me a chance to breathe before you’re-” He stopped, clenching his jaw but the damage was already done.

The words hit her like a punch.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly worn thin. “Look, you’re great. You really are. But you don’t have to be glued to me all the time. I’m not-” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “I’m not interested, Y/N.”

It was silent for a moment, except for the dull thud of her heartbeat in her ears.

She swallowed, forcing her lips into a small, understanding curve that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Got it, Barnes.”

He frowned as if he realized he’d gone too far, but she didn’t give him the chance to backpedal. He wasn’t completely blind, he saw how Y/N was into him. In a weird and without any logical sense, he was interested in her too. He was looking at her from far away. A distance his brain imposed him to let her be safe. No Winter Soldier around a thing so graceful and delicate.

Y/N’s way of flying constantly around Bucky, was the first thing he noticed about her. She was witty and friendly and her mouth never closed. Everything she had in mind came out. He needed this kind of noise in his life, but he was too scarred.

She stood, keeping her chin up even though her chest felt tight. “Won’t happen again.”

And then she walked out of the room. Each step heavy, her mind echoing his words over and over. She’d always known he didn’t feel the same way. She just didn’t expect him to say it out loud.

That same night, in the dim light of his room, Bucky lay on his bed staring at the ceiling.

Sleep didn’t come.

“Not interested…” he muttered into the dark, the words tasting like ash. He sat up, rubbing his face. “Greatest load of crap I’ve ever said.” He paced. “She’s clingy? Really, Barnes? That’s your excuse?”

His voice dripped with disgust.

“She wanted to be around you and you push her away. Genius move.”

Bucky was fully talking by himself.

The only person who would listen him, now far away.

The compound cafeteria was unusually alive that afternoon, voices blending with the clink of mugs and plates. Y/N had only wandered in for coffee, hoping to make it back to her room before anyone noticed her but she noticed him.

Leaning against the counter, talking to a tall brunette she didn’t recognize. The woman laughed at something he said, touching his arm lightly. He smiled with the smile that used to twist Y/N’s stomach into hopeful knots. She froze mid-step, the coffee line forgotten.

So that was it.

That’s why he didn’t want her hanging around.

Why her flirtations annoyed him.

Why he’d told her to back off.

Because someone else had his attention.

Someone he wanted close.

The brunette laughed again and Bucky’s eyes crinkled in the corners. It was so easy for him warm and relaxed not a hint of discomfort like there always seemed to be with her. Bucky leaned in, his voice low and easy, the kind of voice that made the brunette laugh like she’d just heard the best joke. Y/N stood a few feet away, heart pounding. She bit her lip, swallowing down the sting.

I wish that was me getting that smile and hearing that laugh meant just for me, she thought bitterly.

Y/N turned before either of them saw her. Her coffee could wait.

Over the next weeks, she was polite when she had to be.

No jokes.

No lingering glances.

No accidental brushes of hands.

She sat across the briefing table instead of next to him. She partnered with Sam in training instead of him. She answered him with short, neutral replies, her smile replaced with a professional mask.

If Bucky noticed, he didn’t say anything but she noticed.

She did notice every second she was around him and how it didn’t hurt as much when she kept her heart locked up.

How breathing was easier when she didn’t reach for something she’d never have.

It was better this way.

She just wished it didn’t feel like losing a part of herself and that was the moment she decided no more chasing. No more jokes aimed just to catch his attention. No more brushing against him by accident. No more lingering looks or playful nudges.

She folded herself away like a secret kept behind locked doors.

At first, Bucky really didn’t notice or maybe he did but was just busy with Diane, the brunette from the cafeteria.

It felt like a whirlwind.

Bold, fearless, and intoxicatingly easy to be around.

Bucky didn’t hesitate when she invited him over that first night.

The way she looked at him made his chest tighten like she wanted him in a way no one had before. They didn’t waste time. The night blurred into heat and whispered words, and for a while, Bucky thought maybe this was what he needed. But as days passed, the shine wore off.

She stopped answering his texts for hours and sometimes even days.

When they were together, her attention wandered, flickering to her phone or other things far away from him.

One night, after a particularly cold encounter, she shrugged and said bluntly. “I’m not here to babysit you or be your girlfriend, Bucky. I’m here because you’re hot and nothing more.”

The words hit harder than any bullet.

Bucky stared at her, numb.

He’d thought he found something someone who saw him, who wanted him but she only wanted his body. The parts of him that were easy and convenient, not the man who carried scars no one else could see.

That night, he left without a word as the cold creeping in deeper than the night air outside.

For the first time in a long while Bucky felt empty and somewhere, buried beneath his bruised pride, a tiny spark of regret sat inside his chest. Like a wish that maybe, just maybe, he’d never let himself get so close to anyone again.

Bucky thought he was the only one. That Diane, the brunette who’d swept into his life with effortless charm, was somehow his. That illusion shattered faster than he expected.

It started with a casual comment from Sam. “Hey man, seen Diane around? Heard she’s been hanging out with the general lately.”

Bucky blinked. “General?”

“Yeah, Commander Jones. Swears she’s just a friend... but you know how those things go.”

Then a late night in the pub near the compound the one with the dim lights and scratched bar tops Bucky stopped in for a drink.

There she was again, but not alone.

Diane laughed across the bar with a SHIELD agent, a guy Bucky barely recognized but knew was high up. Then, as if out of nowhere, the bartender slid her a drink their eyes locking with a familiar sparkle. She was living in three worlds at once; the SHIELD agent, the general commander, and for a brief moment, Bucky himself.

Bucky felt the cold twist in his gut. He wasn’t special, not to her at least... just one of many and every lie she’d told him, made painful sense. He shoved his glass down harder than necessary, the edges of his world cracking apart. Maybe, he thought bitterly, he’d been fooling himself all along.

So he called himself off. Diane didn’t even try to argue then next day when he told her.

Days later, when Y/N passed by him in the hallway, she looked straight ahead.

No “Hey, Barnes.”

No teasing smile.

Just silence.

When she stopped by the training room, where he always waited after missions, she quietly slipped out the other side.

Her friends noticed.

Sam gave her a worried look one afternoon. “You okay, Y/N? You’re kinda… ghosting Bucky.”

She shrugged, a fragile smile on her lips. “Giving him the space he asked for.”

Inside, she was a storm of loneliness and pride tangled together.

One evening, Bucky finally cornered her in the common room.

The usual hum of chatter and clinking cups faded as his voice dropped, softer than before but threaded with a sharp edge of confusion.

“Y/N, what’s going on? You’re… different.”

She met his eyes without flinching, steady and cold as ice. “I’m giving you space.”

His brow furrowed, frustration flickering in the lines of his face. “You don’t have to do that. You don’t have to-”

She cut him off, voice low but razor sharp. “No, Barnes. You really think I don’t have to? I wanted you. Wanted you so damn bad it almost killed me. But you? You didn’t want me. Not really.”

Her lips curled into a bitter smirk.

“So congratulations. Message received loud and fucking clear.”

He swallowed hard, jaw tightening, hurt flashing across his features.

She held her ground, arms crossed, standing tall like a fortress around her heart. “It’s not easy,” she admitted, voice cracking just for a moment. “Ignoring someone you love? It’s like ripping pieces out of yourself. But every time I think about letting you back in, I remember how you snapped at me… how you pushed me away. It’s a hell of a lot easier to believe some fairy tale, rather than you suddenly wanting me.”

Bucky’s gaze dropped to the floor, voice barely above a whisper. “Y/N…”

She shook her head, a sharp edge returning. “No. This space I’m giving you? It’s real. The distance? It’s not just in my head. It’s growing every single day. So maybe you should figure out why you told me you weren’t interested but now you’re looking for my attentions. You have Diane now... go to your girlfriend.”

Her words hit like a punch, leaving silence heavy between them. She took a deep breath saying her name.

Bucky’s fists clenched, pain flashing in his eyes but Y/N didn’t wait for a response. “She’s not my gir-” he tried to say.

But she already closed the door.

Days later, Y/N stared at her reflection in the mirror. Lips painted a bold red, eyes lined sharp far from her usual warm and playful self.

If she couldn’t have Bucky, well… then she’d have someone.

Anyone.

Not a substitute.

Not a replacement.

Just a defiant, reckless antidote to the ache in her chest.

The idea hit her like a sudden jolt just as a shock therapy. She’d been stuck on Bucky for too long, spinning in a circle of unrequited feelings and waiting for him to notice her.

No more.

Her first target was the polar opposite of Bucky. Loud and goofy and a bit awkward. Completely absent of that brooding intensity or mysterious charm. Their first date was a chaotic comedy of spilled drinks and terrible jokes and laughter that came easily but it wasn’t Bucky. Y/N caught herself staring at the ceiling one time, wondering what Bucky was doing. She pushed the thought away, focusing on the guy’s enthusiastic attempts to make her laugh.

Date number two was with someone taller, more athletic of the first one, who couldn’t stop talking about sports. The complete antithesis of Bucky’s quiet, thoughtful presence. Each new date was a slap in the face to the old Y/N who waited by the phone for Bucky’s text, who hung on every glance he gave her hoping for something more.

Her friends noticed the change Sam raised an eyebrow one night. “You’re dating everyone but him.” She shrugged, lips twitching into a bitter smile. “If I can’t have the thing I want most I might as well confuse myself with everything else.”

But no matter how many dates she went on, how many awkward conversations or goofy moments, the truth gnawed at her.

None of them were Bucky.

None of them made her heart race the way he did even if he didn’t know it and somewhere deep down that ache remained, sharper and louder than ever.

Y/N stood now by the door of her room, her expression calm but calculating. She caught Bucky’s eyes from across the hall as the man stepped inside behind her. Bucky’s jaw tightened, a flicker of protectiveness flashing in his eyes. But then, just as quickly as he came, the man slipped out quietly five minutes later, unnoticed by Bucky.

Y/N closed the door softly, a secret smile playing on her lips. She knew exactly what she was doing. Sometimes, to keep control, you had to let others believe what they wanted, without revealing the full truth.

Bucky sat alone in the dim light of the training room, swirling a half-empty glass in his hand. The truth hit him harder than any fight had.

Diane never cared, not the way Y/N did.

It wasn’t her clinginess that had driven him away. It was himself his fear along with his stubbornness and the inability to see what was right in front of him. He had pushed the one person who actually cared to the edge.

Anger flared inside him, sharp and bitter.

How could I be so blind? he thought.

Meanwhile as the days passed, Y/N’s world felt heavier than ever.

She sat across a cluttered table in a noisy bar, barely tasting her drink as the guy beside her rambled on about meaningless things. She forced a laugh, but inside, exhaustion gnawed at her.

Dating terrible men, pretending to be interested, was easier than facing Bucky’s confused eyes and his sudden interest.

She wanted to care less but every time she tried the image of Bucky, soft and kind and oblivious haunted her. She wondered if he’d ever realize what he’d lost and whether she could ever be the girl who waited, hoping for him again.

Once he saw she was back to the compund, the knock on Y/N’s door was gentle, hesitant. “Y/N, please, just… hear me out,” Bucky’s voice called softly through the wood.

She stood on the other side, heart hammering, fists clenched tight. She wanted to scream and cry and tell him everything she’d bottled up.

The hurt, the loneliness, the nights she’d spent pretending not to care but instead, she took a deep breath steadying herself. “Bucky,” she said quietly, “I’m not interested anymore.”

“Let me explain...”

“No.” Her voice was firm now. “I’m tired. I tried and gave you all of me and you… you walked away. So now leave me alone... please.”

His footsteps shuffled, the weight of his silence almost unbearable.

Then, before he could say anything else, the door clicked shut.

Bucky stood outside for a long moment, the echo of the closing door louder than any words he could have said and Y/N leaned back against the door, tears threatening but held at bay, knowing some doors needed to be closed even if it broke them both.

Bucky got back in the training room and sat on the floor, staring down at his hands like they held the answers he couldn’t find.

That’s when Sam’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and unfiltered. “Man, you’ve been stupid.”

Bucky looked up, surprised to see Sam leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.

Steve appeared behind him, nodding. “Yeah. You’ve been blind, Buck.”

Bucky swallowed hard, the weight of their words settling heavy.

“She cared, man. Y/N cared. And you just… let her go.”

Sam’s eyes softened, but his tone stayed firm. “You think Diane was better? Someone who used you? Come on.”

Steve stepped closer. “You want her back? Then you’ve gotta stop running from what’s right in front of you. Stop being afraid.”

Bucky clenched his jaw. “I messed up.”

Sam grinned. “Yeah. Big time. But it ain’t over. Not if you’re willing to fight.”

Steve gave a small smile. “You know what to do.”

Bucky looked between them, the first spark of hope kindling in his chest.

Maybe it wasn’t too late.

Bucky’s footsteps echoed down the hallway as he approached Y/N’s door again. This time, determination steadied his nerves. He knocked gently, then louder. “Y/N, please. I’m sorry. I want to make things right.”

But inside, Y/N pulled back from her phone, her chest tightening.

She stared at the door like it was a barrier she wasn’t ready to cross.

She didn’t answer.

Days passed and Bucky’s messages piled up. Texts, calls, even a few hesitant notes slipped under her door.

Each one met with silence.

At the compound, when they crossed paths, Y/N’s eyes darted away. THe conversations cut short and her smile distant and cold. She started spending more time with others not because she wanted to, but because being with them was easier than facing Bucky’s gaze.

One afternoon, Sam caught Bucky watching Y/N walk away yet again. “Looks like she’s putting up walls,” Sam said quietly.

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just don’t get it. I’m trying.”

Sam shook his head. “Sometimes the harder you push, the more they pull away. She’s hurt... she gave her love you said you weren’t interested,” Sam paused. “Why the hell did you say that shit?”

“I was scared. She’s the first one clinging to me not for my body or something else... I got really scared but now I see how I messed up...”

Sam patted his shoulder.

Bucky stared after Y/N, the ache in his chest deepening. He wanted her back more than anything but the harder he tried, the more she slipped through his fingers.

A week later, Bucky sat on a bench outside the training facility, hands folded tightly in his lap. He realized that pushing for her only made her pull away.

So this time, he decided to try something different.

Not loud apologies or constant calls.

Not texts that begged for forgiveness.

Just quiet, steady presence.

He started leaving small things where she’d see them a coffee on her desk in the morning. Then a book she mentioned wanting to read with a simple note.

Here, if you need me.

When they crossed paths, he no longer reached for her hand or tried to start a conversation. Instead, he offered a small, sincere smile and a nod.

It was subtle, almost invisible but it spoke volumes.

Y/N noticed.

The tension in her shoulders eased just a little. Maybe this was the start of something new and not the loud, desperate chase she’d feared but a slow rebuilding of trust.

Bucky didn’t know how long it would take but for the first time in a long time, he hoped.

Y/N forced a smile as the man who looked like a twisted, bitter version of Bucky kept leaning in closer. “You should come home with me,” he slurred, breath heavy with cheap whiskey.

She stepped back, voice firm. “No.”

His grin twisted into something ugly. “Come on, don’t be like that.”

The bar noise faded as he started yelling, the words sharper, crueler.

“Why not? What’s wrong with you? You think you’re better than me?”

Panic bubbled inside her.

The warm, crowded pub felt suddenly cold and suffocating so without thinking, Y/N swung her fist hard connecting squarely with his jaw. She was an Avenger after all. He staggered back, stunned.

Heart pounding, she bolted to the bathroom, locked the door behind her. Her hands trembled as she pulled out her phone.

Without hesitation, almost as if on autopilot, she dialed one number.

His number.

“Bucky.” Her voice was shaky. “I… I need you.”

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

Her shaky voice broke through the silence. “I… I’m at the pub. Something happened. I need you.”

Without another word, Bucky was on his feet adrenaline surging. He grabbed his jacket sprinting out the door, every second stretching unbearably.

The usual weight of the world pressed on his shoulders but right now, all that mattered was her.

The police was already there, called by the pub owner. “There’s a girl in the bathroom. I guess she called you, man.”

Bucky rushed into the bathroom and hurried to her side, dropping to one knee. “Hey. You’re okay. I’m here.”

Y/N let out a breath, the first real comfort in days.

Bucky’s hand found hers, warm and steady.

No words were needed.

Right then, everything else faded.

The cold tile pressed against their skin as Bucky knelt beside Y/N on the bathroom floor, wrapping his arms tightly around her trembling frame.

Her sobs echoed softly in the cramped space, and for the first time, Bucky felt the full weight of his own fear. “I’m an Avenger, goddamn it,” he whispered fiercely, voice cracking. “I’ve faced down monsters and armies… but I froze when I heard you called my name like that...” He tightened his hold, as if trying to anchor them both to this fragile moment.

Y/N’s breath hitched. She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, pain raw and unguarded. “Why don’t you want me, Bucky?”

The question hung heavy between them a wound neither knew how to heal.

Bucky swallowed hard, guilt and regret swirling in his chest. “I do want you,” he said finally, voice barely above a whisper. “More than anything. But I was scared. Scared of hurting you… scared I wasn’t enough.”

For a long moment, silence held them two broken souls grasping for something real. The first step toward healing.

Bucky kept his arms wrapped around Y/N, their breaths mingling in the close, cold space.

She rested her head against his chest, voice trembling. “I was so tired, Buck. Tired of pretending the guys I went out with even mattered… tired of pushing you away just because I was scared of getting hurt again.”

He tightened his grip, voice low but steady. “I didn’t mean to push you away... well I thought it was what I wanted at first... I thought I wanted someone different,” he said, avoiding her name. “God only knows how much I need you in my life...”

She lifted her head, eyes shining with tears. “Pushing me away wrecked me.”

He swallowed hard, searching her face. “I’m sorry. For everything. For not seeing you… for being stupid.”

Y/N’s fingers traced lazy patterns on his jacket.

“I want us to try.” Bucky said, hope flickering.

“No more games.” She smiled weakly. “Maybe we’re both broken, but maybe that’s okay. Because I want you all of you.”

He brushed a stray hair from her face. “Then we start here. Together.”

In that quiet bathroom, with the world paused outside, they found the beginning of something real.

The days after that night felt like walking a tightrope for Bucky.

He knew trust wasn’t something he could demand or rushit had to be earned, step by careful step.

Each morning, he showed up with a quiet smile and a coffee just the way Y/N liked it.

When she hesitated, he gave her space without resentment.

When she spoke, he listened really listened without interrupting or trying to fix things right away.

In training, during downtime even in passing, Bucky’s eyes sought hers, steady and sincere.

He never pushed nor forced. Instead, he let his actions speak louder than words.

Slowly, the walls Y/N had built started to crumble, brick by brick. The love for Bucky was still down there, and now the love he felt for her was rising.

With every small moment of connection, the promise of something new and better, grew stronger between them.

They were sitting side by side in the common room, the quiet hum of the compound around them. Y/N’s fingers fiddled with the hem of her shirt, heart pounding like a drum. Then, without warning, she snapped voice trembling but fierce. “Okay, Barnes, I’m tired of pretending.”

Bucky froze, caught completely off guard by the sudden intensity. He immediately thought she was tired of faking with him and the hate she felt after his rejection was coming out, but he was wrong. So wrong.

She took a shaky breath, eyes blazing. “I fucking love you... and I can’t pretend to be angry with you anymore.”

Her words spilled out like a torrent, desperate and real.

“I’m sorry if I was clingy or desperate or… I don’t know, ridiculous... but I love you. I love you so much it hurts.”

The room seemed to still around them.

Bucky’s breath hitched and for once, he had no words.

All he could do was look at her, really look at her, and realize just how much he’d been missing.

Bucky’s eyes softened as he looked at Y/N vulnerability shining through the usual guardedness. He reached out, gently taking her hands in his. “Y/N…” His voice was low, almost breaking. “I’ve been so damn scared. Scared I’d hurt you, scared I wasn’t the man you deserved.”

He swallowed hard, searching her face for understanding.

“But hearing you say that… knowing how much you love me… it means everything.”

He pulled her into a careful, tentative hug, as if he was afraid she might disappear. “I love you, too. I have for a long time.”

For the first time, the weight on his chest felt lighter not because the past was forgotten, but because they were finally facing it together.

Y/N’s fingers traced lazy circles on Bucky’s arm as they sat close, the silence between them comfortable but heavy with unspoken truths.

Then she looked up, eyes searching his. “Bucky… why did you say you weren’t interested in me?”

He took a slow breath, his gaze dropping for a moment. “I thought if I admitted how I felt... I’d lose you or worse I’d hurt you. I wasn’t ready to be vulnerable. So I pushed you away before you could get too close.”

He met her eyes again, earnest and raw. “But that was the biggest mistake I ever made.”

Y/N’s lips trembled and she gave a small, understanding smile. “Thank you for telling me.”

Bucky nodded, squeezing her hand gently. “No more lies. No more hiding.”

She leaned into him, heart swelling. “Just us.”

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, his voice quieter than usual but still laced with that familiar grit. “I thought calling you clingy would make you go away.” He glanced up, eyes searching hers, a flicker of a shy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But it turns out… I freaking need clinginess in my life.”

Y/N laughed softly, warmth spreading through her chest.

He squeezed her hand gently. “Maybe I was scared to admit it, but I do. I need you.”

She leaned in, resting her head on his shoulder. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Bucky’s breath hitched, heart finally feeling like it belonged somewhere. Their lips touched soft at first, then deeper, more urgent. He pulled her on his lap, circling his waist. The world around them faded as their breaths quickened, hearts pounding in sync.

Finally, they pulled apart, foreheads resting against each other’s both gasping for air, cheeks flushed.

“Damn,” Bucky murmured, voice husky.

Y/N smiled, breathless. “Yeah.”

For a moment, nothing else mattered but the heat between them.

Y/N glanced at Bucky, a teasing smile tugging at her lips but her eyes serious. “Should I be scared of Diane coming out again?”

Bucky’s brow furrowed, then he chuckled low shaking his head. “No way. Diane’s a chapter I’m done with.”

He brushed a strand of hair from her face, voice gentle but firm. “You’re the one I want. No distractions, no ghosts.”

Y/N tightened her arm around his neck, finally happy.

The car was quiet except for the soft hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of your movements.

Bucky was focused on the road, hands steady on the wheel, eyes locked on the street ahead. You sat beside him, your fingers lightly tracing circles on his thigh, searching for some reaction. “Bucky,” you whispered, voice low and teasing as your hand slid a little higher. “You’re ignoring me.”

He tensed, his jaw clenching as his eyes flicked to you briefly before returning to the road. “I’m driving,” he said quietly, but there was an edge of distraction in his voice.

You grinned, leaning closer so your lips brushed just beneath his ear. “That doesn’t mean you can’t pay attention to me, too.”

His grip tightened, the mechanical fingers flexing with subtle strength as if restraining himself. His breath hitched, a subtle shake in his shoulders betraying his calm facade. He swallowed, metal fingers tightening ever so slightly on the wheel.

“Not here,” he muttered, voice rough and low.

You traced a finger along his jawline, your touch feather light. “Why not? We’ve got the whole road to ourselves. No one’s watching.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked to the side, avoiding yours, but his hand shifted to rest over yours on his thigh. “I just… don’t want to get distracted. It’s not safe.”

You sighed softly, your hand lingering. “You think I want to distract you? Or that I want to wait?”

His glance met yours.

Dark, conflicted and full of want.

“I want you,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “Just… not while I’m driving.”

You bit your lip, the challenge clear in your eyes. “So, what if I’m careful? Quiet? I won’t stop until you tell me.”

You loved messing with Bucky. He was not only your boyfriend, but even your favorite victim.

You played with the hem on the skirt you were wearing.

Bucky tried to not look, but you were irresistible in his eyes. “Doll,” he warned you.

“What?” You asked, faking confusion.

Your hand wandered on your bare tights. Your skin was already warm. You sat better in the seat and picked up your leg on the dashboard. You began stroking your own leg, fingers digging in your flesh.

“Doll,” he warned you again. His flesh knuckles gripped the steering wheel harder while his metal arm, resting on the door car, crackled.

A metallic and striking noise. He was getting worked up.

You smiled, sliding your ass on the seat. Your hand began to wander on your chest, the little dress doing nothing to hide your already hard nipples. You slid your panties, already soaking wet, and began circling your clit.

“Feels nice… you should try yourself…”

“Doll, please…” he moaned.

You had an idea and you were more than ready to fulfill it.

Your fingers began a dance in your core. Your clit pulsing already, not even for your fingers but for the attention you were now receiving from Bucky.

He knew the moment he’d turned his head would be over, so he preferred keep looking at the street but his enhanced senses made it very hard for him. His nose was already catching your smell, his eyes already noticed the leg tickling and his hand ready to move in your warm and welcoming pussy.

You took a step ahead and removing your fingers form your pussy, you spread your juices on his lips.

He had a shock and the car almost got off the road. He balanced the steering wheel and looked at you. His eyes dark and intimidating.

“Are you out of your mind?” He yelled, angry.

However you did notice the tent in his pant.

“Gave me no choice,” you said, keeping rolling your clit in your fingers. “Must do what I have to do…”

The tension between you thickened, heavy and delicious.

He gripped your hand and licked it clean. Bucky’s breath hitched again, but he nodded slowly. “Alright… but just a little.”

You smiled, removing your fingers from his mouth. You leaned in, removing your seatbelt. As you moved closer, your hand went to his neck. You gripped it and moved his head closer to you. He kept his eyes on the road, so you kissed his cheek first then the corner of his lips.

“Feeling my taste on you still…”

“Jesus Christ… doll you can’t say stuff like that…”

“I can and I will.”

You left him no choice if not nodding his head. He swallowed hard, the tension in his body making him stiff for a moment before he relaxed. “You sure about this?” He asked quietly, but you could hear the rough edge of desire in his voice.

The metal hand gripped the wheel again, stronger this time, as if anchoring himself against the storm of desire swirling beneath his calm exterior.

“Absolutely.” Your lips brushed against his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “Just a little. You drive, I’ll take care of the rest.”

Bucky’s eyes remained fixed on the road, but the grip on the steering wheel loosened. Keeping just his metal hand on the steering wheel, he caressed your cheek with the flesh one. In a second he stole a kiss from your lips, but before you had the opportunity to deepen the kiss, he turned to the road again.

“Be my guest then, doll.” His eyes now were serious and kinda dangerous.

You loved where this was going.

Without loosing time you stroked his clothed thigh and, moving to the zip, his breath hitched once your hand slipped inside his jeans. You wrapped your hand around him with a gentle but insistent squeeze. You bit your lip to keep from smiling, already knowing how badly he wanted this.

Slowly and carefully your lips found his neck first, trailing kisses down to the collar of his shirt. Your hand still gripping his length, as he rolled a little his hips on the seat.

“Need to behave, soldier.” You said, smirking.

“Need to put your mouth down there, doll.”

There was the filthy and little crazy Bucky you loved so much.

The car’s interior was filled with the sound of his breathing growing heavier, the occasional low groan slipping out as your fingers moved expertly.

You caught his gaze, watching the mixture of restraint and hunger in his eyes. “Look at the road, soldier,” you teased, voice low and sultry.

He obeyed, but the way his grip tightened on the wheel showed he was barely holding back.

Your lips moved lower brushing over the waistband of his jeans, and then you took him into your mouth slow and deliberate. You swirled your tongue on his tip, tickling his balls with your hand. Bucky’s breath hitched audibly, his metal knuckles tight as he gripped the steering wheel. You sucked gently, swirling your tongue around him, feeling his muscles tense and relax under your touch.

“Fuck, baby…” he groaned, voice strained but not stopping you.

The road blurred past, and your focus was entirely on Bucky. On the way his body responded to your touch, the way his breath caught every time you deepened your rhythm. You teased the tip again with your tongue but immediately took him deeper, careful and loving. His hips shifted slightly, trying to find relief without losing control of the car. He took the metal hand and gripped the steering wheel harder, while his flesh hand went in your hair. He kept his hand your head, keeping you down a little. The back of your throat, his favourite spot for his cock.

The tension between wanting to pull you closer and the need to keep driving was nearly unbearable. Your fingers slid up to brush over the sensitive bundle of nerves, sending a fresh wave of shudders through him.

“You’re amazing,” he gasped, voice thick with desire.

You smiled against him, feeling proud and powerful in this moment of shared intimacy. You didn’t stop nor slow down, even when Bucky’s breaths came faster.

The car gliding smoothly on the empty road.

Finally, with a groan that shook his whole body, Bucky tensed and released into your mouth, his grip on the wheel slackening for a moment. He rose his hips for a second, shacking.

You swallowed every drop, humming appreciatively as you pulled back, lips slick and satisfied.

Bucky’s eyes met yours again, filled with dark desire and gratitude. “That was… damn, Y/N.” His breath heavy. “Need to be inside you now.” He said, as you zipped his pants.

You didn’t oppose to that.

He found a little secondary road, an exit before your supposed one. He hit the jackpot when he saw a recess, covered by some tall and big trees. “Perfect.” He declared.

In a second, he parked and stopped the car. Your seatbelt was still off, so he grabbed your by your waist and, efficiently and effortlessly, pulled you on his lap. Every drop of confidence was gone the moment you straddled his lap. His pierce blue eyes keeping you there, he didn’t even need to talk.

His hands grabbed your ass, under the dress. He ripped off your panties and you flinched a little. “I’ll buy a thousand, don’t worry.”

You nodded, but quickly he kissed you. His tongue made his way in your mouth and your breath got stuck in your throat.

As he kept kissing you, you felt his metal hand stroking your tights. You jolted up when his cold fingers touched your clit.

“Bucky…” you moaned.

“What?” He pinched your clit in between his fingers. “Don’t you like it?”

“I like it… keep going…”

He plugged two fingers in your core, massaging points you definitely didn’t touch before. You arms sneaked around his neck, grabbing him harder and crushing yourself against his hard chest.

“Bucky please… I need it… please…”

“Need what?” He teased you, as his palm pressed on your clit.

“Your cock… please… I’ll be good…”

“I know damn well you won’t,” he said unzipping again his pants. “But I can’t say no to you…”

His again fully hard cock sprang free form his jeans. He lifted your hips, just enough to let his tip sliding trough your fold. “So damn wet for me…”

“Always wet for you,” you kissed him. “Alw-”

Words got stuck in your throat as he pushed his full cock in you. The stretch was deliciously stinging. He gave you a couple of second to adjust, ever the gentleman, but the moment you nod your head he went all for you.

His hips began to rose as he met your pussy, skin on skin, the tip of his cock reaching everything inside you. His metal hand grabbed your neck. “Who’s mine bad girl?”

“Me… I’m your bad girl… I’m always your bad girl.”

You bounced on him as the hand on your neck pressed a little more.

“Bucky!” You yelled.

“Come on my cock,”

You did just as he finished talking. You crumble on him, on his chest as his fingers tickled your clit. He bit your lobe and kissed your ear as you finish your release. He followed you in a second, emptying himself in you.

You stayed there for a second, feeling his release dripping out of you.

“What a mess…” you said, looking at his lap.

“Worthy, doll.”

You laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “Anytime, soldier. Next time, we find a less public place?”

He chuckled, the tension easing out of his muscles as he refocused on driving. “Yeah. Next time.”

The car was quiet except for the soft hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of your movements.

Bucky was focused on the road, hands steady on the wheel, eyes locked on the street ahead. You sat beside him, your fingers lightly tracing circles on his thigh, searching for some reaction. “Bucky,” you whispered, voice low and teasing as your hand slid a little higher. “You’re ignoring me.”

He tensed, his jaw clenching as his eyes flicked to you briefly before returning to the road. “I’m driving,” he said quietly, but there was an edge of distraction in his voice.

You grinned, leaning closer so your lips brushed just beneath his ear. “That doesn’t mean you can’t pay attention to me, too.”

His grip tightened, the mechanical fingers flexing with subtle strength as if restraining himself. His breath hitched, a subtle shake in his shoulders betraying his calm facade. He swallowed, metal fingers tightening ever so slightly on the wheel.

“Not here,” he muttered, voice rough and low.

You traced a finger along his jawline, your touch feather light. “Why not? We’ve got the whole road to ourselves. No one’s watching.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked to the side, avoiding yours, but his hand shifted to rest over yours on his thigh. “I just… don’t want to get distracted. It’s not safe.”

You sighed softly, your hand lingering. “You think I want to distract you? Or that I want to wait?”

His glance met yours.

Dark, conflicted and full of want.

“I want you,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “Just… not while I’m driving.”

You bit your lip, the challenge clear in your eyes. “So, what if I’m careful? Quiet? I won’t stop until you tell me.”

You loved messing with Bucky. He was not only your boyfriend, but even your favorite victim.

You played with the hem on the skirt you were wearing.

Bucky tried to not look, but you were irresistible in his eyes. “Doll,” he warned you.

“What?” You asked, faking confusion.

Your hand wandered on your bare tights. Your skin was already warm. You sat better in the seat and picked up your leg on the dashboard. You began stroking your own leg, fingers digging in your flesh.

“Doll,” he warned you again. His flesh knuckles gripped the steering wheel harder while his metal arm, resting on the door car, crackled.

A metallic and striking noise. He was getting worked up.

You smiled, sliding your ass on the seat. Your hand began to wander on your chest, the little dress doing nothing to hide your already hard nipples. You slid your panties, already soaking wet, and began circling your clit.

“Feels nice… you should try yourself…”

“Doll, please…” he moaned.

You had an idea and you were more than ready to fulfill it.

Your fingers began a dance in your core. Your clit pulsing already, not even for your fingers but for the attention you were now receiving from Bucky.

He knew the moment he’d turned his head would be over, so he preferred keep looking at the street but his enhanced senses made it very hard for him. His nose was already catching your smell, his eyes already noticed the leg tickling and his hand ready to move in your warm and welcoming pussy.

You took a step ahead and removing your fingers form your pussy, you spread your juices on his lips.

He had a shock and the car almost got off the road. He balanced the steering wheel and looked at you. His eyes dark and intimidating.

“Are you out of your mind?” He yelled, angry.

However you did notice the tent in his pant.

“Gave me no choice,” you said, keeping rolling your clit in your fingers. “Must do what I have to do…”

The tension between you thickened, heavy and delicious.

He gripped your hand and licked it clean. Bucky’s breath hitched again, but he nodded slowly. “Alright… but just a little.”

You smiled, removing your fingers from his mouth. You leaned in, removing your seatbelt. As you moved closer, your hand went to his neck. You gripped it and moved his head closer to you. He kept his eyes on the road, so you kissed his cheek first then the corner of his lips.

“Feeling my taste on you still…”

“Jesus Christ… doll you can’t say stuff like that…”

“I can and I will.”

You left him no choice if not nodding his head. He swallowed hard, the tension in his body making him stiff for a moment before he relaxed. “You sure about this?” He asked quietly, but you could hear the rough edge of desire in his voice.

The metal hand gripped the wheel again, stronger this time, as if anchoring himself against the storm of desire swirling beneath his calm exterior.

“Absolutely.” Your lips brushed against his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “Just a little. You drive, I’ll take care of the rest.”

Bucky’s eyes remained fixed on the road, but the grip on the steering wheel loosened. Keeping just his metal hand on the steering wheel, he caressed your cheek with the flesh one. In a second he stole a kiss from your lips, but before you had the opportunity to deepen the kiss, he turned to the road again.

“Be my guest then, doll.” His eyes now were serious and kinda dangerous.

You loved where this was going.

Without loosing time you stroked his clothed thigh and, moving to the zip, his breath hitched once your hand slipped inside his jeans. You wrapped your hand around him with a gentle but insistent squeeze. You bit your lip to keep from smiling, already knowing how badly he wanted this.

Slowly and carefully your lips found his neck first, trailing kisses down to the collar of his shirt. Your hand still gripping his length, as he rolled a little his hips on the seat.

“Need to behave, soldier.” You said, smirking.

“Need to put your mouth down there, doll.”

There was the filthy and little crazy Bucky you loved so much.

The car’s interior was filled with the sound of his breathing growing heavier, the occasional low groan slipping out as your fingers moved expertly.

You caught his gaze, watching the mixture of restraint and hunger in his eyes. “Look at the road, soldier,” you teased, voice low and sultry.

He obeyed, but the way his grip tightened on the wheel showed he was barely holding back.

Your lips moved lower brushing over the waistband of his jeans, and then you took him into your mouth slow and deliberate. You swirled your tongue on his tip, tickling his balls with your hand. Bucky’s breath hitched audibly, his metal knuckles tight as he gripped the steering wheel. You sucked gently, swirling your tongue around him, feeling his muscles tense and relax under your touch.

“Fuck, baby…” he groaned, voice strained but not stopping you.

The road blurred past, and your focus was entirely on Bucky. On the way his body responded to your touch, the way his breath caught every time you deepened your rhythm. You teased the tip again with your tongue but immediately took him deeper, careful and loving. His hips shifted slightly, trying to find relief without losing control of the car. He took the metal hand and gripped the steering wheel harder, while his flesh hand went in your hair. He kept his hand your head, keeping you down a little. The back of your throat, his favourite spot for his cock.

The tension between wanting to pull you closer and the need to keep driving was nearly unbearable. Your fingers slid up to brush over the sensitive bundle of nerves, sending a fresh wave of shudders through him.

“You’re amazing,” he gasped, voice thick with desire.

You smiled against him, feeling proud and powerful in this moment of shared intimacy. You didn’t stop nor slow down, even when Bucky’s breaths came faster.

The car gliding smoothly on the empty road.

Finally, with a groan that shook his whole body, Bucky tensed and released into your mouth, his grip on the wheel slackening for a moment. He rose his hips for a second, shacking.

You swallowed every drop, humming appreciatively as you pulled back, lips slick and satisfied.

Bucky’s eyes met yours again, filled with dark desire and gratitude. “That was… damn, Y/N.” His breath heavy. “Need to be inside you now.” He said, as you zipped his pants.

You didn’t oppose to that.

He found a little secondary road, an exit before your supposed one. He hit the jackpot when he saw a recess, covered by some tall and big trees. “Perfect.” He declared.

In a second, he parked and stopped the car. Your seatbelt was still off, so he grabbed your by your waist and, efficiently and effortlessly, pulled you on his lap. Every drop of confidence was gone the moment you straddled his lap. His pierce blue eyes keeping you there, he didn’t even need to talk.

His hands grabbed your ass, under the dress. He ripped off your panties and you flinched a little. “I’ll buy a thousand, don’t worry.”

You nodded, but quickly he kissed you. His tongue made his way in your mouth and your breath got stuck in your throat.

As he kept kissing you, you felt his metal hand stroking your tights. You jolted up when his cold fingers touched your clit.

“Bucky…” you moaned.

“What?” He pinched your clit in between his fingers. “Don’t you like it?”

“I like it… keep going…”

He plugged two fingers in your core, massaging points you definitely didn’t touch before. You arms sneaked around his neck, grabbing him harder and crushing yourself against his hard chest.

“Bucky please… I need it… please…”

“Need what?” He teased you, as his palm pressed on your clit.

“Your cock… please… I’ll be good…”

“I know damn well you won’t,” he said unzipping again his pants. “But I can’t say no to you…”

His again fully hard cock sprang free form his jeans. He lifted your hips, just enough to let his tip sliding trough your fold. “So damn wet for me…”

“Always wet for you,” you kissed him. “Alw-”

Words got stuck in your throat as he pushed his full cock in you. The stretch was deliciously stinging. He gave you a couple of second to adjust, ever the gentleman, but the moment you nod your head he went all for you.

His hips began to rose as he met your pussy, skin on skin, the tip of his cock reaching everything inside you. His metal hand grabbed your neck. “Who’s mine bad girl?”

“Me… I’m your bad girl… I’m always your bad girl.”

You bounced on him as the hand on your neck pressed a little more.

“Bucky!” You yelled.

“Come on my cock,”

You did just as he finished talking. You crumble on him, on his chest as his fingers tickled your clit. He bit your lobe and kissed your ear as you finish your release. He followed you in a second, emptying himself in you.

You stayed there for a second, feeling his release dripping out of you.

“What a mess…” you said, looking at his lap.

“Worthy, doll.”

You laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “Anytime, soldier. Next time, we find a less public place?”

He chuckled, the tension easing out of his muscles as he refocused on driving. “Yeah. Next time.”