I’m Just A Mess

On field, the former Winter Soldier and the most efficient ex-Hydra spy.

Two of the most feared names in the field. In the Avengers’ tower just Bucky and Y/N.

Tony, Steve, Sam, and Natasha were proud to fight alongside them.

More than teammates.

A family.

Y/N charismatic and confident. The heart of the team, the one who made everyone feel like they belonged. She lit up every room she walked into, without ever trying to outshine anyone. Stunning and effortlessly magnetic she turned heads sure, but no one ever called her a pick me or fake. She was real and kind and unforgettable. Y/N knew she looked good. She wasn’t shy about it either.

She liked the curve of her hips, the cut of her jaw, the shine in her eyes when she pinned her hair back in the morning. The world might’ve whispered “attention seeker” when she walked into a room with her head held high and her eyeliner sharp enough to kill, but the Avengers? They knew better. She wasn’t just pretty. She was lethal. Sam once joked that she could dismantle a nuke and flirt with the enemy at the same time and he meant it as a compliment.

Bucky, on the other hand, had grown quieter more thoughtful and a little reclusive. He hid behind silence, but those who truly knew him saw the warmth he guarded so carefully. Fortunately, the HYDRA days were long forgotten and he was still in every way a super soldier with a broad and muscular body but got soft over the years. No more exhausting training sessions, some late snacks he allowed himself and delicious food. That's why, a small belly formed one he often tried to conceal beneath hoodies and crossed arms. He sometimes felt ashamed of it, even though everyone around him insisted he was still just as strong and just as attractive. Just a normal life, living with superheroes and fighting aliens, but still a normal life.

If Bucky was the dark quiet night, Y/N was the golden light of dawn.

Opposites in so many ways, but that was why they had always fit together so well.

Bucky watched her with a sort of reverence as if each time she walked into the common room in leggings and a crop top, she was rewriting the laws of physics just for the hell of it. He never said much, not directly, but she caught the way his gaze lingered especially when he thought no one was watching.

The way his lips parted when she smiled not even at him, just in general. The way his whole face softened when she laughed. And God, she was gorgeous.

Y/N noticed. Of course she did. She noticed everything.

Like the way he brought her coffee just the way she liked it. The way he grumbled about Tony being an idiot but never missed a single mission debrief she led. The way he froze when she leaned too close.

That morning, she caught him mid-stare while she stretched after a workout. He looked away so fast, he almost gave himself whiplash. Bucky used to watch her from a distance. He never said anything when Y/N walked into the room looking like she belonged there, like the Tower was hers just by the way she moved. She could quiet a boardroom with one glance and laugh like she hadn’t been through hell to earn her place on the team. She was loud when she wanted to be, soft when it mattered and completely out of his league. So, he watched quietly and hopelessly. A stupid ache in his chest every time she ruffled Steve’s hair or stole fries off Nat’s plate or leaned against Sam’s shoulder during movie nights. She deserved someone whole. Someone who looked like he belonged next to her in magazine spreads. Not a worn-down ex-assassin with broad shoulders, a soft stomach and nightmares that left him shaking in the shower.

That day, Lexi Connor came into their life.

Tony hired her through SHIELD.

Shiny resume, sharp clothes, the kind of smile that came with calculated sweetness, first in class in SHIELD Administration.

Bucky didn’t pay her much attention at first. He was used to new faces passing through the Tower. But then he overheard her. “So, I’ll be just there coordinating?” Lexi asked Tony, gesturing toward the lobby.

Tony raised a brow at the tone. It was dipped in something that wasn’t quite disdain, but damn close. He didn’t like it. “You’ll be there to help directing operations, making sure nobody unauthorised steps foot into our building, and help keep things running smoothly.”

Lexi gave him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Right. Got it.”

Tony plastered his most, fake, charming smirk but inside his sensors were already blaring. He knew that look. He worn it himself in boardrooms when he was twenty-four and thought everyone around him was an idiot. Lexi thought she was better than the job. That was clear.

Helping to direct the operations in the Avengers’ Tower? Still a front desk girl, and Tony swore himself she didn’t like it.

Still, he gave her the benefit of the doubt. For now.

Tony, leaned one elbow on the sleek desk and sunglasses perched smugly on his nose, showing Lexi something on a tablet. “So, mission coordinator means you keep tabs on who’s punching what galaxy-level threat and make sure they’re not late for the daily debrief,” he said, flicking through holograms with casual flair.

Lexi didn’t blink. Her eyes scanned the interface, her fingers already rearranging mission schedules, rerouting field agents, and uploading encrypted codes before Stark had even finished his spiel. “I’ll triple the efficiency in a week,” she said, voice smooth, almost bored. Tony raised an eyebrow. She leaned forward, lowering her voice with a smirk. “Let’s just say coordinating missions is a nice warm-up. But I’ve got bigger plans, Stark. Avenger-level plans.”

“Right,” Tony muttered. “I’ve seen that look before. Usually ends with someone building a killer robot or trying to rewrite reality.”

The hum of servers filled the quiet control room. Lexi sat alone, tapping commands into the console with eerie precision. She began a couple of hour ago, but she was already at ease. Multiple mission feeds flickered across the screens; agents in action, crises unfolding, enemies slipping through shadows.

Later that evening, completely unaware of Lexi, Y/N found Bucky on the roof looking out over the city with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. “You okay?” She asked, joining him.

He gave her a small smile. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

“About?” She said, voice light. His ears turned pink. “I can tell there’s something.” She murmured, stepping closer.

He turned to her, eyes wide.

About you, Bucky thought.

Y/N smiled at him. He didn’t answer her question.

Two weeks after Lexi’s arrival, Y/N strolled through the Tower after training. Sharpie ponytail, leggings and oversize hoodie.

Gorgeous as hell.

A vision.

Lexi looked up from her desk and blinked. Then her gaze narrowed, just for a second. It didn’t go unnoticed.

Bucky was, totally coincidentally, near the gym when he caught the exchange. Y/N smiling, saluting Lexi like she saluted everyone.

Lexi blinked at her like she couldn’t quite figure her out. When Y/N started to walk away, Lexi muttered under her breath, “Wow. Must be easy getting away with anything when you look like that.”

Bucky froze. His super hearing was a bless just as much as a disdain. Something cold settled in his chest. But Y/N too heard her. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t falter. She stopped mid-step turning around slowly and tilting her head. She wasn’t angry but kept a calm grace that made her so terrifying.

“I don’t get away with anything,” she said, voice steady, sweet like honey with a razor underneath. “I earned every ounce of respect in this place. You want to talk about my looks? Fine. But don’t mistake it for weakness, or my face for my worth.”

Lexi opened her mouth, then closed it again, visibly shrinking. Y/N offered her a smile sharp, polite and utterly untouchable then turned on her heel and walked away with shoulders squared and head high. Bucky stood there for a beat longer jaw tight, something protective and proud churning low in his gut.

God, he loved her fire. He swore himself to marry that girl one day, even just in his dream.

Bucky didn’t go straight to the gym. Instead, he turned and reached Lexi. “Hey,” he called out, voice calm but firm.

Lexi looked up, trying not to look flustered. The handsome super soldier surely caught her attention the very first day she met the team. “Bucky. Everything okay?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “About what you said… to Y/N.”

Lexi shrugged, feigning confusion. “Did I say something wrong? It was just a comment.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “Y/N’s more than how she looks. She’s one of the best people on this team. Stronger than most, smarter than all of us on a bad day. She’s earned everything she has, and she doesn’t deserve that kind of disrespect.”

Stunning as the sun, he added in his mind.

Lexi blinked, the corners of her mouth twitching like she was fighting the urge to smirk. “Of course,” she said, nodding with mock understanding. “You’re right. I didn’t mean anything by it.” But her eyes said otherwise. “I don’t even know her.” She already pieced it together. The way his shoulders stiffened, the way his voice softened just slightly when he said her name. She found the chink in the Winter Soldier’s armour... Y/N.

Bucky stared at her for another beat, trying to read her. But Lexi just smiled and tilted her head. “I’ll be more careful next time,” she added, turning her eyes back on the screen like she didn’t just step on something fragile.

Bucky, still fuming, reached for the gym. He didn’t realise it yet, but Lexi wouldn’t have forgotten the look in his eyes. And she certainly wouldn’t missed the weakness she saw. She didn’t say anything then. She didn’t have to. Not yet.

She was sick and tired of hearing her name and her actions. Even before joining the Avengers, just as mission coordinator even if in her head she was already a member of them, she heard about how great and brave Y/N Y/L/N was. For the SHIELD was a role model, for the Avengers the bravest one and for Bucky… oh stupid, handsome Bucky. He thought of her like the hanger of the moon and stars. The heroine who sacrifices herself for the others. She was just a pretty girl.

Did he really think a girl like her, would ever put her eyes on a guy like him? Pathetic.

She saw the chaos of heroism and believed she could do better. Fix the flaws, remove the unpredictability, command outcomes like a chess master and maybe taking Y/N’s place in the Avengers and into Bucky’s heart.

She remembered the day Y/N turned her down. Calm, collected and merciless in her honesty. “You don’t have enough preparation, Connor...” She had said during recruitment.

Words sharp but clinical like a doctor diagnosing something terminal. There had been no cruelty in her voice, and somehow that made it worse. No anger, no disdain. Just a quiet certainty that she wasn’t enough. But preparation wasn’t just brawn, and strength was discipline. Vision. Willpower. “Please, Y/L/N. Give me another chance.” Lexi said, breathless, frustration barely veiled beneath her words.

Y/N looked down at her, eyes unreadable but steady. There was no smirk, no malice just expectation. “Get up then, Connor.”

Lexi scrambled to her feet, the ache in her ribs ignored. She stepped back onto the mat, determined, fists raised in front of her face like she’d rehearsed a hundred times. She didn’t flinch when Y/N mirrored her stance calm, balanced and effortless.

This time would be different.

Lexi told herself like a mantra. She learned from last time. Timing, footwork, patience. She’d studied every move Y/N made, practiced counters in her dreams. But dreams didn’t fight back. Y/N moved first. One step. One faint shift of weight. Lexi blinked and then, humiliation.

Again.

Before she could react, she was on the mat, back slamming hard, air punched from her lungs. A clean sweep. A lesson. Another reminder. Y/N offered no hand this time. Just a quiet look as she stood over her. “Told you, Connor,” she said, voice low but firm. “You’re clever but not field prepared.”

Lexi stared up at the ceiling, jaw tight, chest burning. It wasn’t just pain she felt, it was the weight of never being enough. And Y/N never even raised her voice. She would prove that. She would show them all. Y/N, the Avengers… Bucky. There was more than one way to be a hero. And this time, she wouldn’t need anyone’s permission.

Bucky had always trusted his instincts. But ever since Lexi showed up, those instincts felt clouded, not wrong, just… off. She didn’t say much at first. Just little things. Comments he would normally shrugged off, if they wouldn’t have been about her.

“Wow, she’s confident, huh?” Lexi had said one afternoon, when Y/N walked through the common room still in her tactical gear.

Boots heavy on the floor, lipstick bold against her smile, a streak of dried blood running down her cheek like it belonged there.

“Must be exhausting always needing to be the center of attention like that.” Bucky frowned but didn’t reply. “Why putting make up on a mission?” He didn’t agree. Y/N has never needed attention. Lexi hadn’t pushed. She just smiled and moved on like she didn’t say anything at all.

“She humiliated me,” Lexi said during another break with Bucky, her voice soft but charged as she leaned back against the railing of the Avengers training deck.

The late afternoon’s light cast sharp angles across her face, the shadows falling just right.

Vulnerable, but not weak.

Y/N was resting after a tough mission, while the other in the tower were monitoring the outside. “Right there on the mat. No hesitation, no mercy. Just… took me down like I was nothing.”

Bucky didn’t look at her right away. He stood nearby, arms crossed over his chest, gaze fixed on the skyline. But she knew he was listening. He always listened.

Lexi went on, letting a shaky laugh slip through. “She didn’t even help me up. Just stood there and said I wasn’t field prepared. Like I was some intern who wandered into a war zone. You know what she called me? ‘Clever.’ Do you believe it?” Her mouth twisted slightly. “Like that was a consolation prize.” Bucky’s jaw clenched just a little, barely noticeable if you didn’t know him. Lexi noticed. “She made it personal. Always did. I think… I think she was threatened. I worked hard. I studied tactics, psychology, combat theory. I wasn’t handed anything. But it didn’t matter. Because I wasn’t her. I didn’t have her little reputation or… whatever she had with you guys…”

That last part hung in the air like smoke. Bucky finally turned to look at her, his eyes unreadable. “Y/N is tough,” he said, his voice low. “But she wasn’t cruel.”

Lexi blinked, caught between offense and panic. “I didn’t say she was cruel, just-”

“You said she humiliated you,” Bucky cut in gently, but firmly. “Sounds more like she did her job.”

Lexi’s stomach turned. She hadn’t expected that. “She never gave me a real chance,” she whispered, dropping her gaze to the floor. “…maybe I never needed her approval anyway.”

Bucky didn’t respond this time. He just looked away again, his silence louder than any defence. Lexi felt the weight of a story that didn’t quite land the way she wanted it to.

The next time, Lexi was more careful. More casual. “She’s always touching people.” She muttered to herself, leaning on the desk, skimming the security footage like she was bored. “Flirty…”

Y/N, passing behind her just in time to catch it, didn’t even slow down. She raised an eyebrow, offered a calm smile, and said, “It’s called being affectionate, Lexi. Some people call it emotional intelligence.”

Lexi began to say something, but Y/N was already gone. Hips swaying, voice echoing back down the hall.

Or that time during lunch, “Oh, I didn’t realise she was that close to Steve. No wonder she got promoted so fast.” She said to Bucky.

Bucky noticed. He noticed all of it.

He tried to shake it off at first, tried to convince himself Lexi just had a rough edge, and it got harder every time. That time Bucky felt something sharp in his stomach, something ugly. Because he noticed the way Y/N tugged playfully on Tony’s tie when she teased him, how she leaned into Sam’s side when they laughed at game night. The casual affection she spread so easily. But then he noticed that Y/N treated Natasha the same way, kinda flirty.

Once Bucky started remembering his moments with her, the way she used to pull him into dance-offs in the common room ruffling his hair when he brooded too hard or when she put her head on his shoulder during movie nights.

Y/N did it with everyone. Not just the guys, but something in his chest sank no matter what.

“She’s just friendly,” Bucky mumbled.

“Sure,” Lexi replied, smiling just enough. “If that’s what you want to believe…”

And that was it. Nothing outright cruel. Nothing too bold. Just suggestions. Innuendos. Enough to plant seeds. And Bucky hated himself for letting any of it fester. But once they were there, those seeds took root. He found himself watching Y/N differently not in awe like before, but… guarded. Maybe Lexi had seen something he hadn’t.

Was Y/N really flirting with everyone?

Was that special look she gave him just… her being nice and flirty with everyone?

Could she really have even ever flirted with him?

Surely, he mistaken her being nice to something deeper. Y/N Y/L/N would never, ever, have flirt with him.

One evening, Bucky watched as Y/N threw her arms around Steve’s neck after a sparring match, laughing breathlessly. Steve beamed, strong arms around her waist as he twirled her once in the air before setting her down. Bucky’s heart twisted.

Lexi’s words in his head, “Told you.”

And he said nothing. Y/N noticed his change.

Lexi never wanted to be a superhero. She wanted control. “Let’s start from Barnes.” She thought that day back when she had her first encounter with Y/N.

“Oh Y/N, how gorgeous is Y/N”

“How brave is Y/N”

“She took down a HYDRA base alone”

Blah, blah, blah

Deep down, Lexi wasn’t looking to destroy the Avengers. She just wanted to replace them. Or at least one of them.

Her plan? Build a covert network of operatives and digital tools that could neutralise threats before they ever reached Earth.

No capes. No explosions. Just precision.

But to prove herself, she’d need to test her system, maybe even sabotage a few heroic missions to show how vulnerable they really were.

That night, he ignored Y/N’s knock on his door.

He didn’t see the way her smile faltered when he didn’t answer.

Didn’t hear her whisper through the wood. “Everything okay, Buck?”

Didn’t see her stand there for a minute longer waiting and hoping, before she walked away.

One month.

30 days since Lexi entered the tower.

From day one, Lexi and Y/N clashed.

Y/N, a skilled field agent, respected by the Avengers and trusted with high-risk missions saw Lexi as cocky and untested and too comfortable behind her desk.

Lexi, on the other hand, saw Y/N as reckless, too reliant on muscle and instinct and blind to the strategy that saved missions before they even began.

Every meeting was a silent battle of eye rolls and sharpened remarks.

“Sorry, I thought we were solving this with intelligence not throwing fists,” Lexi would say, coolly adjusting her headset.

“Funny. I thought saving lives meant showing up, not sitting behind six screens” Y/N would fire back.

Tony found it hilarious. Steve tried to mediate. Natasha mostly stayed quiet watching the storm brew.

Y/N wasn’t the jealous type. At least, that’s what she told herself. She’d fought gods. Faced death. She wasn’t going to let a pretty coordinator in four-inch heels and a shiny French manicure rattle her. But she noticed.

That morning, she noticed the way Lexi seemed to be there, always there.

In the hallways, in the break room, outside the gym with that coy little smile and just the right amount of lean whenever she spoke to Bucky.

And Bucky? He used to light up when Y/N walked in the room. Used to meet her eyes across the table during debriefs and smirk at her sarcastic remarks. Used to bring her coffee without being asked and always saved her a spot on the couch. Y/N was careful, always. Not just with missions, not just in battle, but with feelings.

Especially this one.

She loved Bucky Barnes, for longer than she cared to admit. But she didn’t let herself believe he could love her back. Not like that. She wasn’t the one people chose. She was support, not the story.

She always made dinner. After missions, after meetings, after days the world felt too sharp and heavy. It had become a quiet tradition neither of them ever named, but both kept returning to. It grounded them. Gave them something normal. Some excuse to spent time with him.

After a tough mission, some months ago, they came back frozen and bruised too tired to speak more than a few words on the flight. The cold had settled in their bones. The silence had weight.

So, after a super hot shower, Y/N cooked. She moved through the kitchen with quiet precision, sleeves rolled up.

Bucky watched from the other side of the counter, the scent of her lasagna already warming the room. When they finally sat down, he ate three portions. She hadn’t said a word about his body nor his size. She didn’t comment at first, just watched him with that small and amused smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth. “This lasagna is to die for,” he said through a satisfied exhale, leaning back slightly in his chair. “Seriously, Y/N, I think I’d betray the whole team for another bite.”

She raised a brow at him, half-laughing. “Didn’t know you liked it that much, Barnes.”

“You kidding? I’ve been thinking about it since we got on the jet.”

Y/N’s heart did something traitorous in her chest. He said it so casually, so fondly.

Like the idea of coming back here, with her, was part of the mission plan. Like this mattered.

She swallowed it down, hiding it behind a sip of wine and a well-rehearsed smirk. “Well. Noted. I’ll keep a tray on standby in case you ever have to flee the country.”

Later, they ended up on the couch, not from some grand plan but because they were tired, full and comfortable.

He’d fallen asleep first, head tilted slightly toward her, lips parted in a rare kind of peace. And she’d watched him for a long time, tracing the scar on his temple with her eyes, not her hands. So she slept beside him.

Close, warm, unaware. And she stayed still, pretending it was enough. Because for now, it had to be.

Nights like that were now long forgotten. Now he barely looked at her. And when he did, there was something different in his eyes, something wary like he didn’t trust what he was seeing any more. It made her stomach twist.

Y/N knew, of course, that Bucky wasn’t in love with her like she was with him.

She would have sworn to not feel anything for the super soldier, but then in her room at night closed her eyes and thought about holding his hand during a walk. She just liked the idea of him being in love with her not because she needed attention but just because the reality of him not being interested was killing her inside. She used her cockiness as a shield, just as a fantasy of her and Bucky dating.

Bucky Barnes, the Bucky Barnes, in love with her? Absurd.

She should have never get her cockiness, her facade, between them. She went to the gym.

Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor of the training room, idly wrapping and unwrapping the tape around her knuckles. Her voice was low when she finally spoke. “Nat… do you think I’m too cocky?”

Natasha, perched on the bench nearby tilted her head, one eyebrow rising. “That’s dramatic even for you.” She laughed but stopped when she saw Y/N’s expression.

“I’m serious.” Y/N didn’t meet her gaze. “I know I can come off a little… too confident.”

Nat let the silence stretch a beat, watching her closely. Then she stood, walked over, and crouched beside her. “Confidence isn’t a crime, Y/N. Especially around here. You’re sharp, capable, and yeah… maybe a little mouthy sometimes. But hate you? No. Not even close.”

Y/N gave a half-smile, still not quite convinced. Natasha narrowed her eyes slightly, something sharp and familiar behind them. That subtle tilt of the head. The look she gave when she’d already solved the puzzle but wanted to hear you say it anyway. “Is this about someone in particular… or are we pretending it’s a general observation?” She asked, casual but with precision. Y/N hesitated, too long. “Is this about Bucky?”

The colour bloomed immediately in Y/N’s cheeks, soft but undeniable. She looked away, fingers fussing with the roll of medical tape in her hands, suddenly too focused on wrapping her own wrist.

Nat sighed, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Right. Thought so.”

Y/N didn’t answer, but her fingers stilled completely on the tape.

That was all Natasha needed. Her expression shifted, the teasing edge fading into something more careful. “This have anything to do with Lexi?”

Y/N finally looked up. Her voice was quiet, words slipping out with more honesty than she intended. “She’s always around him. Like, always. And I’m not trying to be that girl who gets weird about it. He’s not my boyfriend, but…” She trailed off, letting the sentence dissolve under the weight of her thoughts. “It’s hard not to notice.”

Nat leaned back slightly, crossing her arms. “You’re not imagining it. I’ve seen it too.”

Y/N blinked. “You have?”

Nat just nodded, her expression unreadable now. Calm but alert. “Lexi knows exactly what she’s doing.”

Silence fell between them for a beat. The kind of silence where everything was understood but not everything had been said. “What do you think?” Nat asked quietly.

Y/N looked down at her hands again. “I don’t know, Nat,” she whispered. “If Bucky wants Lexi… then it’ll happen, I guess. And I’m not going to get in the way of that.”

Her voice broke just slightly at the end. Not enough to cry. Just enough to reveal the truth she kept buried. “I mean, why would he choose me?” Y/N added with a breathless laugh. It wasn’t bitter, just tired. Worn thin around the edges. She rubbed at her wrist absently, her voice growing quieter. “Lexi’s calm. Quiet. She says what she wants. Maybe Bucky needs someone like that.” She paused, eyes flickering toward the floor like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear herself say the rest. “I’m not like that. I’m… cocky. Too confident. Loud when I should be quiet. I speak before I think. I fight hard, and I love harder, and sometimes I wonder if it’s just…too much for someone like him.” Y/N exhaled. “Bucky needs someone calm…”

There was a long silence. The kind where it felt like the air shifted. Natasha’s expression didn’t soften like most people would. She didn’t reach for Y/N’s hand or offer some delicate reassurance. That wasn’t how she loved people. Instead, she straightened a little, voice low but solid. “Bucky Barnes doesn’t need someone like Lexi. He needs someone who makes him feel safe.” Y/N looked up, startled. “And for the record?” Nat continued, eyes locked on hers. “You’re not too much Y/N. You’re real. And real is rare around here.” Y/N swallowed, her throat suddenly tight. “And if he can’t see that,” Natasha said, rising to her feet and tossing the tape roll onto the table, “then that’s his mistake. Not yours.”

She started to walk away but paused at the doorway, glancing back with a knowing look. “But between you and me? I think he already does.”

Y/N gave a short, humourless laugh. “So, I’m not just being paranoid.”

“No. You’re just jealous” Nat said softly. “And I don’t like it. Lexi’s… calculated. She plays sweet, but she watches people like she’s gathering intel. And I don’t like how close she’s getting to Bucky especially when you’re involved.” She said, intending something else.

Y/N let out a soft laugh and shook her head. “Nat… you’re exaggerating. Bucky doesn’t feel anything for me.”

Nat raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Yeah.” Y/N gave her a tired smile. “He’s nice to me… at least he was.”

“So, you’re the only one with the gigantic crush?” Nat said, rushing to the gym’s exit.

The same afternoon, she walked into the lounge and froze. Lexi was perched on the arm of the couch close, too close to Bucky. He was saying something quietly, and Lexi laughed like he’d told the funniest joke in the world. Her hand brushed his forearm as she leaned in. Y/N felt something inside her snap.

Nat, who had followed her in, raised an eyebrow. Lexi was still touching his arm. It did bother her. It bothered her more than it should’ve.

“Why she’s never at her desk?” Y/N said.

Nat snorted. This wasn’t just about Lexi, this was about Bucky acting like Y/N had done something wrong. She waited until Lexi finally left the room swaying her hips before she approached.

“Hey,” Y/N said, standing in front of the couch.

Bucky blinked up at her, surprised. “Oh. Hey.”

“Got a minute?”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah.”

She sat beside him but not too close, not like Lexi. “You’ve been… distant.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. “Just been busy.”

“With Lexi?” That surprised him.

He turned to look at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Y/N shrugged, casual. “She’s always around you. Didn’t know you two were close.”

Bucky looked away. “She’s just easy to talk to.”

Ouch. That landed sharper than he probably intended.

Y/N stared at him. “Am I not?” He didn’t answer. And that silence said everything.

The next day, Lexi stood by the projection screen, flawlessly presenting the team’s plan. Her voice was calm, clipped, and deliberate. “Y/N, you’ll take Rear Sector 7,” Lexi said. “It’s the least active quadrant, but you should be comfortable there.”

Y/N blinked. “I usually lead recon.”

Lexi smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yes. But we had to adjust after… last time.”

Last time.

Yes, last time when Lexi rerouting the mission almost killing the avengers. “My system projected a 78% success rate with the alternate route. It was statistically right.” She said, defending herself. Lexi learn on her skin that 78% success rate it’s not 100% success rate.

Now, a quiet murmur rippled through the room. Natasha shot Y/N a look. Bucky frowned.

Y/N crossed her arms, jaw tight. “That ambush happened because of you reroute.”

“But you save everyone, right?” Lexi replied, sliding her finger across her tablet. “Mistakes like that usually prompt a shift in responsibility.”

Tony leaned back in his chair, watching, eyebrows lifted. “Easy, Lexi. It was still your mistake, not Y/N’s.”

Lexi didn’t break stride. “I just misread the date. We all want what’s best for the team.”

Y/N locked eyes with her, voice low. “Don’t confuse team with agenda. Don’t worry Tony, I’ll take sector 7.”

The team got up toward the locker room, suiting themselves.

Y/N and Nat, on the bench were talking both strangely attentive. The mission went obviously well.

Lexi wasn’t stupid. She saw the way Y/N looked at Bucky. The way her smile faltered every time she walked into a room and found her already there, chatting with him or touching his arm just a little too long. She saw the jealousy and she thrived on it.

Bucky was sweet. Quiet. Easy to read once you knew where to look. He flinched at attention, softened at kindness, and was desperate for someone to choose him. And Lexi was more than willing to play the part.

Especially if it meant knocking Y/N down a peg or two. So, she waited. She let the tension simmer. Let Bucky feel increasingly distant from the woman he clearly adored. Let the doubts she’d planted bloom into something painful.

Then, after they got back from the mission where Y/N did took sector 7 and won, so she made her move.

She caught Bucky in the hallway, back from the mission, reorganizing the supply crates with quiet diligence. He’d pulled his hair back, a few strands still slipping loose, and his hoodie was slightly oversize. He looked more civilian than super soldier. He looked tired. Vulnerable. Perfect.

“Hey,” she said, with a soft smile playing with her tower’s pass, wrapped around her neck. “Can I tell you something? Kind of… personal?”

Bucky blinked, wary but polite. “Yeah. Sure.” Lexi bit her lip, hesitating just enough to make it seem like a confession. “I overheard something. In the locker room, just before getting on the jet. Between Y/N and Nat.”

Bucky straightened, already tense. “What kind of something?”

Lexi lowered her voice. “Y/N was talking about you. About how she knew you had a thing for her, and how she was letting you hang around because it was cute... her words, not mine.” Lexi said, holding her hands up. Bucky went completely still. Lexi tilted her head, softening her voice. “She said you were sweet. But not really her type. That she liked guys who could keep up with her, you know? Guys who looked like they belonged on the front of magazines… like Steve”

Bucky’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.

“I mean first she almost dismiss an order and now talking bad about teammates behind their back?” Bucky didn’t hear how Lexi was still rambling about Y/N not taking order, he just listened his heart crushed in his chest. “…it’s not a good thing to do.” Lexi stepped closer, hand brushing his arm like it was nothing. “I just thought you should know. Because you deserve better than being someone’s backup. You deserve someone who sees you.”

Bucky gave a tight and quiet nod, eyes on the floor. Lexi smiled to herself. And down the hallway around the corner, just out of sight Nat had stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide, having heard everything.

In her room, dim light from her monitors casting eerie shadows across her desk. Her fingers danced over encrypted systems, patching into a classified black-ops satellite. “She did actually take sector 7,” Lexi said looking at her screen. In her room, she felt like a real avenger free to do whatever she wanted. “Y/N outperformed expectations again,” she muttered, pulling up combat data. “Typical…” she took a sip of tea. “Let’s see how she performs when intel fails.”

With a few keystrokes Lexi made some change into the mission lead. Y/N’s next op came alive on the screen and she inserted a false threat profile. The team would head in under-prepared, just enough to cause chaos. Not to kill… just to rattle. If Y/N stumbled, if Bucky stepped in, the narrative could twist in Lexi’s favor.

The briefing room buzzed with quiet conversation and the shuffle of data pads as the team filtered in. The lights were low, the air stale with too much recycled coffee and not enough sleep. Y/N sat near the center, her hands folded over the mission file she’d already read twice.

Another mission, the day after. Weird.

Something was wrong. The threat profile on the screen didn’t match what she’d prepped for. The satellite data. The ground intel. The enemy strength ratio off, just slightly. Sloppy enough to be overlooked, smart enough to be dangerous. She frowned, flipping through the digital brief again. This wasn’t just an update. It had been restructured.

“Command recalibrated after a late intel sweep,” Lexi said from the corner, too casually. “Minor adjustments.”

Y/N’s eyes flicked up to her across the table, narrowing for half a second. But then she looked at Bucky... instinct and habit and... hope.

He was across the room, arms folded and gaze on the screen.

Not on her.

Not even a glance.

No warning.

No softness.

Just distance.

The silence rang louder than anything Lexi could’ve said. Y/N’s pulse picked up. Her lips parted, the beginnings of a protest catching in her throat. She could raise a flag. Call it out. Her mind wandered.

“I’m cocky. Too confident.”

“Maybe Bucky needs someone like her.”

She blinked, her shoulders tightening subtly. Maybe this wasn’t sabotage. Maybe she was just reading too much into it. Paranoid. Overcompensating. Trying too hard to prove herself. She pressed her mouth shut and sat back in her seat.

“Understood,” she said flatly.

Lexi glanced at her, just briefly. The smallest curl of satisfaction behind her eyes.

Natasha, on the far end of the table, raised an eyebrow barely perceptible, but it was there. She caught Y/N’s eye for a flicker of a second. Saw something wasn’t right. The meeting moved on. Slide by slide. Order by order. But under the table, Y/N’s fingers dug hard into her palm. And in her chest, the doubt bloomed like a bruise.

The locker room hummed with quiet motion. The click of gear locking in place, the shuffle of tactical boots, the low murmur of voices down the corridor. Y/N adjusted the straps on her vest not quite focusing on her reflection in the narrow mirror above the bench.

Natasha walked in, checking her sidearm with a swift, practiced flick. She didn’t say anything at first, just leaned against the row of lockers beside Y/N, arms folded. Watching. “You’ve triple-checked your gear,” Nat said finally, voice low.

Y/N didn’t look at her. “Just being careful.”

“You’re always careful,” Nat replied. “But this?” She tilted her head. “This is different.”

Y/N paused, fingers tightening around the edge of her glove. “I’m fine.” Nat was quiet for a second, then pushed off the locker and stepped closer. “No, you’re not.” Y/N hesitated, breathing shallow. “I saw your face in the briefing,” Natasha continued, voice softer now. “You knew something was off. Then you swallowed it.”

Y/N finally met her eyes. There was a flash of emotion there; doubt, frustration, something raw trying to surface but held back. “I didn’t have proof. And I’ve been wrong before.”

“When? Back in third grade? Since when that has stopped you?” Nat pressed gently.

Y/N looked away again, jaw clenched. “Bucky didn’t even look at me. He always looks at me when something’s off. Today…” She shook her head. “Maybe I am reading too much into it. Maybe Lexi just… knows better than me. Maybe she should be leading.”

Nat’s expression darkened. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

“But what if I’m not cut out for this?” Y/N whispered, barely audible. “What if everything I’ve done, everything I’ve tried to be- what if it’s not enough for him? Or the team?”

Nat’s reply was firm. “This isn’t about being enough. This is about something not adding up, and you trusting your gut.” She paused, eyes narrowing slightly. “And I trust your gut.” Y/N blinked hard and nodded once, but the weight didn’t leave her chest. Nat reached forward, rested a hand briefly on Y/N’s arm. “Stay sharp out there. And if anything feels wrong, anything, you say it.”

Y/N looked up, something steadier flickering back into her. “Yeah.”

And as they walked out together, neither of them said it aloud since they both knew Lexi had just made herself a problem. The final checks were underway. Armor sealed. Comms tested. Weapons calibrated. The air was thick with adrenaline and quiet urgency, that strange kind of calm just before insertion.

Lexi hovered close to Bucky, too close, if anyone had cared to look. She was tightening the strap on her sidearm when she leaned toward him, her voice light, but loaded. “I’ll be here if you need me,” she said, fingers brushing her comms as if to underline the point.

Bucky gave a short nod, distracted. His eyes flicked across the room to where Y/N stood, silent and sharp-edged as she checked her loudout.

No banter.

No quick-witted comments.

No offhand remarks about his over-polished knife or Sam’s endless gum chewing.

Just… quiet. Too quiet.

Something tugged at him.

Lexi followed his line of sight and gave a little tilt of her head. Then, in a low voice meant only for him, she added, “See how Y/N’s like a well-trained puppy now? Isn’t it better without her constantly snapping at me?”

Bucky’s brows furrowed immediately. His head turned slightly in her direction, the shift in his expression subtle, but clear discomfort. Disapproval. He opened his mouth, about to say something.

“Buck!” Steve’s voice rang out from across the hangar. “C'mon, we need to go!” Bucky glanced toward him, then back at Lexi. Steve paused just a beat, eyes cutting toward the two of them. “Lexi,” he said, sharp now. “No mistakes this time.”

Lexi stiffened, lips pressing into a flat line. “Copy that.”

Bucky stepped back, his gaze lingering on her for a second longer before he turned and walked toward the jet. Y/N was already up the ramp, silent but alert, her jaw tight as she checked the interior lockers. She didn’t look at him as he passed. But Bucky did. And for the first time in days, he really saw her. The storm hadn’t hit yet. But it was coming.

The mission had gone south fast. Too fast. Y/N crouched behind the wreckage of a flipped transport, her breathing ragged, heart hammering against her ribs. Bullet casings rang like bells around her, and the sky overhead churned a cold, steel gray. She’d known it the second they landed. The silence wasn’t right. The heat signatures were too consistent, the response time too fast.

Hydra wasn’t just here. They were ready.

“This isn’t recon,” she muttered under her breath. “It’s a setup.” Her fingers flew across the small console clipped to her forearm. Incoming data… scrubbed. Rewritten. Artificially trimmed. Then it hit her. This wasn’t an intelligence failure. It was manipulated intel. Her blood ran cold.

“Lexi,” she growled into the comms, slipping between broken cover. “We need extraction. NOW!” There was a long pause. Too long. “LEXI!” Y/N yelled.

Then Lexi’s voice came through, detached and cool. “I’ll reroute available units… standby.”

“Standby?” Y/N snapped. “We’re boxed in with no high ground and zero exit coverage-”

An explosion cut her off.

The blast was close. Bucky didn’t hesitate. He moved like instinct, like muscle memory. Threw himself in front of her, his metal arm raised just in time as a grenade burst nearby. Shrapnel tore through the air. His body caught most of it.

“Bucky!” She screamed, catching him as he staggered. Blood stained the edge of his gear. Not fatal, since he was a super soldier, but bad.

They hit the dirt together behind a concrete slab. Y/N pulled his arm around her shoulder, dragging him to better cover. Her hands were slick, her breath coming fast but her mind was clear. And something snapped. Forget caution. Forget self-doubt. Forget whatever fake modesty she’d wrapped herself in since the briefing. Her voice cracked through the comms, sharp and commanding.

“This is Y/N. Mission parameters are compromised. Intel is fabricated. We walked into an ambush. HYDRA units are embedded and waiting. This was never a recon sweep. This was staged.”

She didn’t care how it sounded. She didn’t care if she was wrong. She wasn’t. She looked down at Bucky, who was clutching her side, but almost conscious. He was watching her.

Y/N switched frequencies. “Red? This is Widow-Two. Confirming op breach. Requesting immediate extraction and medical for Sergeant Barnes. Repeat. Hostiles overwhelming. Mission integrity compromised.”

For a moment, silence. Then Natasha’s voice came in, crisp and fierce. “Widow-One here. Copy that, Widow-Two. We’re en route. Hold position.”

Y/N’s lips pressed into a hard line. And this time, she wasn’t staying silent.

The compound was too quiet. The storm still lived in Y/N’s chest, even after the jet had landed, even after the medics had rushed Bucky to the infirmary, even after Natasha gave her a nod that said I’ve got him, a nod that let Y/N move.

Now, her boots echoed down the corridor like warning shots. She spotted Lexi in the common room. Calm. Alone. Tea in hand, like she hadn’t just nearly gotten them killed. Y/N didn’t hesitate. She stormed across the floor, anger simmering just beneath her skin. Her voice cracked like a whip. “You doctored the data.”

Lexi turned her head slowly, utterly unfazed. She took a small sip of tea, one eyebrow raised. “Or maybe the enemy just got smarter. That happens sometimes.”

Y/N stepped closer, fists clenched at her sides. “You wanted me to fail.” Her voice wasn’t yelling. It was lower, more dangerous. Raw. “You sent us in blind. You knew we’d walk into a trap. You knew, and you did it anyway. You risked everyone just to-what? Make me look incompetent?”

Lexi stood, letting her cup clink gently against the saucer. She tilted her head, eyes cool and amused. “No one made Bucky jump in front of that grenade. He chose to protect you. He bled for you.”

Y/N’s face went still. Lexi stepped closer now, her voice softening, as if it was suddenly a private confession. “Just think how deep that guilt will run if you keep letting him get hurt.”

Y/N blinked, stunned still not by fear, but by the sheer calculated cruelty in Lexi’s words. Lexi smiled wider, slow and sharp. “Now tell me…” she whispered, “who’s really the dangerous one here?”

Y/N’s body stiffened like a pulled wire. For a second, the room felt like it might explode from the pressure between them. “You’re manipulating mission data,” Y/N said through gritted teeth. “That’s not dangerous, Lexi. That’s treason.”

Lexi’s mask didn’t crack, but her eyes darkened. “Careful. Big words make you sound hysterical.”

Y/N took a slow breath, forcing herself not to swing. Not here. Not yet. “You think no one will believe me?” She asked, voice icy now. “You think I don’t have people watching? Natasha was listening the second things went off-plan. She’s already running your logs.”

Lexi’s smile faltered only slightly, but Y/N saw it. “And Bucky?” Y/N added, stepping forward now, refusing to flinch. “He might not have seen it before. But he will now.”

Lexi tried to recover her smirk. “You think he’ll choose you after this?After you froze in that briefing room? After I held the team together while you sat there second-guessing yourself?”

Y/N’s eyes flared. “I froze because I was trying to be decent. Because I was trying not to turn this place into a battleground over ego. But make no mistake, Lexi if you try to rewrite the truth again, you will see exactly how dangerous I can be.”

They stood in silence, tension electric.

Later that night, Lexi leaned against the cold steel corridor outside the lower weapons vault, posture relaxed, one foot crossed over the other like she had all the time in the world. Her breath fogged faintly in the chill. Timing was everything. And sure enough, right on cue, Bucky emerged.

His jacket was half-zipped, fingers still tugging at the collar as he stepped through the security lock. His cheeks were pink from the cold. Or maybe something else. Lexi smiled. “Cleared for duty?” Lexi asked, her voice light with a practiced kind of concern.

Bucky glanced at her briefly. “Yeah. Just a couple cracked ribs left to deal with.” Lexi gave a low whistle and pushed off the wall, falling into step beside him. “Always playing the hero. You know, most people use recovery time to, I don’t know, recover.” He didn’t laugh. “I saw your mission report,” she said lightly, pushing off the wall like it was coincidence. “You really threw yourself into the fire for Y/N. Again.”

Bucky barely paused, but she noticed the slight twitch in his jaw. He tried to walk past. “She’s my teammate,” he said, low and short.

“Of course,” Lexi agreed quickly, falling into step beside him. “She’s smart. Bold. Beautiful. She knows exactly how to pull people in.”

That made him slow. Just enough. Bucky’s eyes flicked to her. “What are you trying to say?

Lexi tilted her head, kept her tone light, sympathetic. She clasped her hands behind her back like she was sharing something personal, something painful. “I just think… maybe you should ask yourself what she gets out of it,” she said softly. “You’re loyal. You’re kind. You’re protective. You’re…” Her voice dipped, almost reverent. “Safe.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “And?”

Lexi gave a little shrug. “She needs someone like that until she doesn’t anymore. Until the mission shifts. Until the stakes change. Until someone more super walks through the door and catches her eye.”

Bucky looked away. He shouldn’t have. But he did.

Lexi caught it. Pressed in. “She doesn’t talk about you when you’re not around, you know. Not really. Not like she talks about Steve, or Sam, or even Natasha. You ever notice that?” Bucky didn’t answer. His mouth had gone tight. “She doesn’t linger,” Lexi said, almost gently now. “Doesn’t stay. Doesn’t see you. Not really. Not when you’re not bleeding for her.”

There was a long pause. Her words echoed quietly in the sterile hallway, and Bucky’s silence only made them heavier. “You deserve more than that,” Lexi added finally, voice a little lower. “You deserve someone who sees you. Chooses you. Not just when it’s convenient. Not just when they’re scared.” She looked away for a beat, as if baring something vulnerable in herself. Then, “I see you that way.”

The words hung in the air between them like a stone dropped in still water. Bucky exhaled through his nose. His hands flexed at his sides. He didn’t look at her. Didn’t look away either. Lexi didn’t expect him to respond. That wasn’t how this worked. It just had to sit there. Long enough to grow roots. And in the silence that followed small, poisonous things started to bloom.

At the end of the week, Bucky didn’t say anything to anyone for the rest of the week. He trained until his muscles burned. Pushed himself harder than he had in weeks.

Every punch he landed on the bag echoed Lexi’s words in his head.

“She said you were sweet. But not really her type.”

“Letting you hang around because it was cute.”

All those late-night conversations. Her laughter when he said something sarcastic under his breath. She did talk to me outside work. Right? He almost didn’t remember the last time she had a conversation with Y/N, but the way she leaned into his side on the jet, falling asleep like she trusted him.

Had it all been pity?

Had he misread everything?

The more he thought about it, the more everything seemed to warp. Every kindness from Y/N felt like a performance in hindsight. Every compliment a setup for a punchline he’d never seen coming. By the time he got back to his room, his chest ached with something sharp and ugly. He stopped showing up to movie night. He skipped breakfast. He didn’t text her back. Y/N noticed. The messages started off light.

Y/N: You okay?

Y/N: Haven’t seen you lately. Did you get kidnapped or just hiding from me?

Y/N: Bucky, seriously. What’s going on?

He left them unread. Because what if Lexi was right?

What if Y/N was really laughing about him behind his back with Nat?

What if everything she did was just to make him feel wanted without ever meaning it?

He couldn’t face her. Not when he felt this raw. This stupid. He went silent. Detached. He even started spending more time near Lexi, not because he wanted to, but because she was safe. Predictable. She didn’t make him feel the way Y/N did. And right now, that felt like protection.

The rest of the team noticed. Steve tried to get him to open up. Sam gave him space. Nat watched him with eyes sharp as razors, saying nothing yet but waiting. Watching.

Y/N, meanwhile, was unravveling. He could hear her outside his door one night. The quiet sound of her voice. The hesitation.

“Bucky… please talk to me. If I did something wrong… just tell me. I’ll fix it.”

He sat with his back to the door, hands in his hair, breath shallow. He wanted to open it. He ached to. But Lexi’s words echoed again. “You’re not her type.”

So he stayed silent. And Y/N walked away heart bruised, fists clenched not knowing that Bucky Barnes was slowly breaking in the room behind her. If she didn’t like him, why she was begging him to talk to her? Was it a cruel joke? Someone was lying? He remained on the floor.

A couple of day later, Lexi found Bucky in the corner of the file room, flipping through old case logs, face drawn in quiet thought. She slid beside him with ease, placing a sealed report gently on the shelf. No reason to be here, except him.

“You read her latest mission debrief?” She asked, casually.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. She held her ground.”

Lexi tilted her head. “Held it. Took credit. That’s what she does.” He didn’t respond, but his grip tightened slightly on the folder. “She’s incredible, I’ll give her that,” Lexi continued. “But she’s polished. Political. She knows exactly how to use what she’s got. Even you.”

Bucky’s brows knit together. “Y/N doesn’t use people.”

Lexi stepped closer, her voice soft. “Then why does she always find herself at the center of everything? Every mission. Every spotlight.”

“You’re saying she-”

“I’m saying,” Lexi interrupted gently, “she’s smart enough to notice. And to know it makes you loyal. Protective. Maybe even a little… blinded.” Bucky’s expression fell, subtle and wounded. Her voice dropping to a whisper. “You think she could be with someone like you? Someone who’s broken, tired, carries scars she’s never had to face?” The silence hung like fog. “She needs someone perfect. Someone the press loves. Someone safe to love in public.”

She straightened slowly. “But you’re not public, are you, Bucky? You’re shadow. The Winter Soldier. Steel. Weight. That’s not a life she wants.” Bucky stared at the file, at Y/N’s bold signature on the mission report, his heart aching. “She’s only using you during mission. You should take credit for them, not her. You deserve someone more caring.”

A couple of hours after, Y/N stood now near the window in the file room, flipping through mission files. Sunlight streaming across her brow. She glanced across the room, instinctively searching for a particular figure in gray... Bucky still there at the far table with arms folded, deep in conversation with Lexi.

They weren’t close, physically. But Lexi leaned in like she belonged, and Bucky didn’t shift away. Y/N blinked.

Later, Bucky exited the file room without his usual nod. No shared smirk. No “stay safe.” Just silent focus.

Y/N pulled him aside, fingers brushing his wrist making him stop. “Hey, Bucky,” she said quietly. “You good?”

He hesitated. “Fine.”

“You haven’t spoken to me since…” God she didn’t even remember since when. “… after saving me from that bomb. And… yesterday, you gave Lexi a full smile. I’ve only ever seen you give that to dogs or Sam when he brings you coffee.” she tried to joke.

Bucky looked down, sheepish. “It’s nothing.”

But Y/N pressed, voice softer now. “Did I do something?”

He swallowed, jaw tightening. “No. You’re… great. You always are.” That was worse than silence.

Y/N stepped back, heart twisting. “Then why do you look at me like I’m not real any more?”

He didn’t answer, and proceed getting out the file room. And somewhere down the hall, Lexi watched.

The room was quiet, bathed in amber glow from a single lamp. Bucky sat on the edge of his bed, headphones nestled over his ears. The music playing was soft. A blend of vintage jazz and ambient hums that Lexi had recommended. Soothing, she’d called it. A nightly ritual, just for him. Underneath the saxophones and sleepy rhythms, buried below frequencies too subtle for conscious thought, was her voice coded, layered, undetectable. Whispered affirmations laced with distrust.

Y/N takes advantage of you…

She doesn’t see you…

She belongs to the world... never to you…

Trust is dangerous when it’s given to someone like her…

Bucky’s eyes closed, the tension in his shoulders softening. He never remembered falling asleep during the playlist, but he always woke feeling… detached. Clouded. A little colder toward Y/N each morning.

Bucky woke abruptly, sweat slicked across his neck, his heart racing. He couldn’t remember what the dream was, but Y/N’s name was tangled in it. Not her face just flashes, feelings, doubt. He reached for the headphones still on his pillow. The music was still playing softly. Familiar notes. Comforting. But lately, it felt hollow. Like something behind the melody was speaking through it.

Across the room, the mirror reflected dark circles under his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping well. Not since Lexi started curating his “mental wellness routine.”

In the morning, during sparring, Y/N reached out to help Bucky from the mat after a slip but he flinched. Pulled back too fast, like her touch stung. Everyone noticed.

“Sorry,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze.

She frowned. “You okay?” He nodded once.

But inside, something twisted. She’s controlling the narrative. She makes you feel small. She smiles when you’re broken. She’ll never choose you. Not really.

The whispers were always underneath the surface now, whispering before he could form thoughts. Lexi’s voice buried in the soundtrack replayed in his memory at odd moments before decisions, during arguments, after silence. He didn’t even realize he was humming one of her songs out loud.

That night, Lexi watched a neural pattern chart dance across her screen, confirming subtle changes in Bucky’s behavior; reduced trust, heightened emotional withdrawal, selective memory fragmentation. She kept trace of it like a diary. She smiled faintly.

“Not mind control,” she whispered. “Just better instincts.”

She cued up the next playlist for tomorrow night. Just enough suggestion to nudge him toward confrontation.

Toward suspicion. Toward her.

In the interrogation room, Y/N was reviewing surveillance footage in the dim file room, tracking a recent Hydra breach. Her fingers danced over controls, the glow lighting her face. The door slid open sharply.

Bucky.

He stepped inside, arms folded, eyes darker than usual not icy, just fogged. Distant. “You intercepted the intel on Sector Delta before I could access it,” he said. Flat.

Y/N looked up, surprised. “Because Lexi said it was corrupted. I was trying to cross-reference-”

“You always have an explanation,” he cut in. “Always one step ahead.”

She stood slowly. “Bucky, what is this?”

He took a slow breath, like he was reciting something he wasn’t sure he believed. “I don’t think I can trust you anymore.”

The words fell like glass. Y/N blinked. “You’re serious?”

“Too many things don’t add up. Timing. Positions. Intel flow.”

He paused. “Lexi thinks-”

“There it is,” Y/N said, voice trembling but sharp. “Lexi thinks. And now you do.”

Bucky hesitated, his fingers twitching like his whole body was arguing with itself. “You saved me on mission nearly a week ago,” Y/N whispered. “You held my hand during recovery last year when i got severely hit. That was real.”

“She sees more in me,” Bucky muttered. “She believes I’m more than what you think.” Y/N’s expression cracked, hurt pouring through.

“Then she’s brainwashed you better than Hydra ever did.” She said regretting almost immediately.

Bucky looked away. Her words definitely broke him. Bucky didn’t stay. He looked away and walked away. Y/N opened her mouth, heart thudding in her throat. Something rose inside her raw, quiet, desperate. A truth she’d never let herself say aloud until that moment.

“…maybe she sees you,” she whispered, barely audible. Bucky didn’t hear. “…but I love you.” Her voice cracked on the last word. But he was already too far.

Some days after, Y/N was sad. Very sad and upset.

Then she’s rewritten you better than Hydra ever did.

That phrase still vivid in his mind. Bucky didn’t mean for it to happen.

One evening, while Y/N was wandering into the common room, looking for her phone charger. Bucky was there. And so was Lexi. They stood near the window, just out of the main light, talking in hushed tones. Lexi’s laugh drifted out first soft, calculated and just a little too breathy.

Her shoulder touched his arm. Standing there like two lovers.Y/N paused near the doorway, half-shielded by the wall.

Lexi reached out, fingers brushing Bucky’s arm. “You know,” she said, voice low and intimate, “you’re not as unreadable as you think.”

Bucky gave a quiet chuckle but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Is that so?”

“Uh-uh.” She stepped closer, too close. They now stood one in front of the other. Bucky looked down at her face.

NO PLEASE DON’T KISS HER, Y/N though

“I notice things. Like how you always stay just a little distant… except around certain people.” Lexi briefly looked down, at the floor. Then she looked up again. Bucky’s expression shifted, guarded. Lexi took that as permission. “You don’t have to keep pretending,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “If you’re looking for something real… I’m right here.”

Y/N’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. Lexi brushing her hand against his. Her offering to grab him coffee during breakfast. Walking with him to the gym, laughing at his dry sarcasm like it was her favourite sound in the world.

All little steps that got Bucky slowly attached to Lexi. All little steps that brought them that night, near the window.

He didn’t kiss her at first. He didn’t even want to. But she was there. Steady. Warm. Always saying exactly what he needed to hear. “You deserve someone who really sees you. You don’t need to chase after someone who’ll never choose you.”

So when she kissed him, soft lips and tentative fingers curling at the collar of his hoodie he didn’t pull away. Because Y/N hadn’t knocked on his door in days. Because her texts had stopped. Because maybe he was just a joke to her.

Y/N saw their first kiss from across the hall. She froze, hidden just enough to watch Lexi press a kiss to Bucky’s lips, linger at his jaw like she belonged there. Bucky closed his eyes. He just stood there near that window, letting it happen. He let Lexi kiss him again. And again. He was so tall, so she stood on his tip. Hands grabbing his hoodie. Y/N left before they could see her. Before seeing Bucky’s hands stayed still, along his body. Not on Lexi’s hips. Y/N’s hands were shaking.

“She kissed her, Nat,” Y/N cried that night in Natasha’s arms. “Bucky let Lexi kiss him.”

“What do you mean ‘let her kiss him’?” Natasha asked, her voice low and sharp.

Y/N buried her face deeper into Natasha’s shoulder, her voice cracking. “He didn’t stop her. He just… stood there.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened. Never, she saw Y/N like that. “Did he kiss her back?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N whispered. “I couldn’t watch any more.” There was a pause heavy, aching. “I feel so stupid,” Y/N whispered.

“No,” Natasha said firmly. “You’re not stupid. You love him. That’s not a mistake.”

Natasha held Y/N until her sobs softened into silence. Her thumb brushed gently over Y/N’s shoulder but her eyes were hard, focused on something far away. “I told him that she rewrote him better than Hydra ever did.” She remember crying. “Nat, do you realise how he must have felt in that moment?”

Nat swore to herself, right then and there, she was going to get to the bottom of this.

A week after, the team found out about their first kiss. Bucky and Lexi had been seen together again, the team’s reactions came quickly.

Steve was the first to say something, cornering Bucky in the hallway. “Tell me this isn’t serious,” he said, voice low but laced with disappointment.

In the common room, Sam muttered, “Lexi? Really?” under his breath as the two walked in. Tony just shook his head when he passed them, not saying a word but the silence said plenty. Nat silently judging.

Now the clink of a spoon against a ceramic mug was the loudest sound in the kitchen that morning. Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, making everything look deceptively peaceful. Y/N was perched on a stool at the island, nursing a coffee that hadn’t quite kicked in yet. Tony was poking at a croissant like it had personally insulted him, while Sam and Steve sat across from each other in the usual competitive silence that happened when both were pretending not to care who finished breakfast first.

Then there was Bucky. He was sitting at the counter beside Steve, hunched over a plate stacked high with eggs, bacon and toast moving with soldier-like precision. His metal hand made a soft clunk each time it tapped the counter top, but no one mentioned it. They never did. Y/N tried not to glance at him. She really did. Nat, beside her was preparing to see Lexi entering. The night before, was the first she actually spent in the tower with Bucky.

Lexi, dressed in Bucky’s Henley like it was a trophy, walked into the kitchen like she owned it. Nothing happened between them, but Y/N couldn’t be sure of this and she was sure Lexi was just acting like something did happened.

Her expression was all casual confidence and just a touch of morning superiority. The oversize shirt slipped off one shoulder just enough to be calculated. Her hair was still damp from the shower.

Bucky’s shower, maybe? Y/N’s stomach turned at the thought. “Hi,” she said breezily, not bothering to hide the smug little smile she tossed at Bucky.

Y/N forced a polite smile. She walked over to the island, standing behind Bucky and leaning her arm casually on his shoulder. He didn’t look at her, just kept chewing. The girl wrinkled her nose. “You eat like… that every morning?”

Everyone looked up.

“Like what?” Bucky asked, finally glancing at her.

She waved vaguely at his plate. “Just… all that grease and protein? No fruit? No carbs that aren’t… what is that? White toast? God. Don’t you ever detox?”

Sam tried very hard not to rumble into his orange juice. Natasha raised an eyebrow and took a sip of her black coffee, clearly not enjoying the scene.

Bucky slowly lowered his fork and turned to the girl. His voice was flat. “I was hungry.”

“Well, sure” she said with a small laugh. “I just figured you’d be more… I don’t know. Mindful?”

Y/N couldn’t stop the eyebrow that arched before she looked back down at her mug.

“Mindful?” Bucky repeated.

The girl nodded like she was being helpful. “Yeah. You know. Of your body. What you put into it. I mean… you’re still fit clearly but like… your arteries must be begging for mercy.”

Steve intervened first. “He’s got a metabolism you wouldn’t believe,” he said smoothly but upset, giving Bucky a subtle nudge under the table.

Sam, always a master of making things worse, grinned. “Yeah, don’t worry, sweetheart. The guy burns calories just by brooding.”

“Well, we’re starting a diet soon together. Right love?” Lexi said.

Y/N swore she said love looking at her. No one talked.

“Jeez. Was it something I said?”

Y/N set down her mug. Her heart beat a little too loud in her ears, but she spoke anyway quiet, cool, and clear. “Actually, yeah.”

Lexi blinked. “Sorry?”

“You said something,” Y/N continued, voice calm but knife-sharp. “You walked in here like you belonged, like you earned something. But all I see is a guest trying too hard to rearrange furniture in someone else house.”

The room went still. Lexi tilted her head, but the gleam in her eye sharpened. “Well, maybe someone needs to.”

Bucky… still hadn’t said a word. But he was looking at Y/N now. Not past her. Not through her. At her. Like maybe, for the first time in weeks.

Meanwhile, Nat was watching and she was done staying quiet. She hadn’t liked Lexi from the start. There was something too smooth about her. Too polished. Like someone always performing. And Nat didn’t miss much. She remembered the day she’d overheard Lexi whispering to Bucky, spinning her little story about Y/N mocking him.

At the time, she hadn’t wanted to believe Bucky would fall for it. But now… Now she saw the way he avoided Y/N like she was radioactive. The way Y/N’s bright spark had dulled to something brittle. The way Lexi always looked smug around both of them, like a cat who’d eaten the canary. It was all wrong. And the diet? Y/N could never.

The breakfast incident had become just a blip in memory. A forgotten detail, but now Lexi was pushing every morning green smoothies and lean protein on Bucky like it was her mission, smiling too sweetly while casually shaming the man who used to eat cheeseburgers on rooftops with Y/N after long missions.

Everyone began to notice that Y/N and Bucky were almost never parried for mission.

If Bucky had a mission in Europe, Y/N remain home.

When Y/N was sent to Russia, clearly expecting Bucky on the jet, she then faced Sam clearly confused as her.

That morning, Y/N got a text from Lexi. Cool and casual, just coordinates and the message.

“Intel said you’d want to handle this one yourself. Good luck 😉”

Y/N didn’t question it, in the beginning. It wasn’t unusual from Lexi, sending personal text for the mission. She should have. The building was supposed to be an empty safe house for recon.

What it was?

A trap.

Four armed men.

Two snipers.

One with tech strong enough to scramble her comms for nearly forty minutes, but Y/N was still Y/N.

Even bleeding, even outnumbered, she moved like a ghost and struck like lightning.

When she walked back into the Tower nearly two hours later, her knuckles were raw, her uniform torn, and there was a dried blood at the corner of her mouth. She didn’t say a word. Just walked through the lobby with that same terrifying calm that came before a storm. The security cameras caught the moment. She didn’t flinch, didn’t slow down. But Lexi saw it first. She was seated in the common room, on the couch, with her arm linked with Bucky’s one. She was laughing at something Tony had said, until she looked up and caught sight of Y/N entering.

Her smile slipped. Just for a second. Just a flicker of fear in her eyes.

And Bucky saw that too. His body tensed, not really knowing why.

He turned slowly, watching Y/N as she passed by, her eyes scanning the room landing on Lexi for a single, ice-cold second before continuing toward the medical bay.

No reaction. No words. Just that look.

And Lexi… She paled.

Not enough to draw attention from the others. Not enough to be obvious, but enough. to realised something in that moment.

Y/N knew.

And this time? She wouldn’t just let it go.