Ran Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture,  etc. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Chapter 1 / 3 3000 words fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI You told him it was a bad idea. That it was going to be loud. Luckily, he has somewhere to run too.
Y/N looks up at the sound, quirking her brow as she catches Barnes peering around it’s edge. She thinks, it looks like he’s afraid of a scolding, so she’s careful to offer him a smile, as soon as he meets her eyes.
Some of the tension drops from his shoulders as he registers her expression, as he sees her, safely on the bed he shares sometimes, when he really needs to sleep.
She doesn’t say anything to beckon him further towards her, just opens her legs, keeping her knees bent, and closes her laptop, slipping it over to the far side of the mattress.
Nervously, he steps into the space, nudging the door shut behind himself, waiting for the click of the lock before he starts to pad over to the bed.
“Hey, sweetheart” her sweet voice coos, as he finally climbs up, over her comforter, to settle himself between her thighs, “You doin’ okay?”
It’s clear he’s not. But still, Y/N likes to ask, partly, Bucky assumes it's so he has to acknowledge it himself, without relying on others to tell him how he’s feeling.
He doesn’t really want to answer. He doesn’t really know, anyway.
His head falls to her shoulder, as he ignores the ache in his bent knees.
Gentle hands, that are warm, and familiar slip over his back like water, palming the taught, over worked muscles with ease, as the man they belong to settles himself in her embrace.
Y/N kisses at the top of his head, and tries to ignore the way she can feel his pulse hammering through his body. He smells like adrenaline, like fresh air and panic.
“Wanna talk about it?” she offers calmly, nodding when he instantly murmurs out a no, that is absorbed by her throat.
She assures him that that’s okay, too. That he doesn’t have to tell her a thing, that he can just be, for a while, if that’s what he wants.
It’s all I want, he decides, all I want is to stay with you, where it’s quiet.
Her legs card his body protectively, as she lets him continue to hide against her front.
His hands are in the front pocket of his hoodie. His metal fingers tugging at the flesh ones anxiously, as he fights the urge to hold on to her waist.
The way he’s breathing is shallow, it’s the raspy kind of panting that can only be conditioned by years of enforced stillness, and Y/N finds herself deepening her own inhalation, hoping he’ll adapt, and try and match her slower, more even rhythm.
He doesn’t. He can’t. Not yet.
She rubs a small circle between his shoulder blades, noting the way he’s starting to soften against her. It’s a good sign, she thinks, it means he’s letting himself relax, even a little.
“Cold?” Bucky hears her ask-
“A little” he whispers back, voice dry and cracking.
His cheeks flush red at the admission, they only continue burning when she tells FRIDAY to crank the heat up.
He’s been colder. He's just being stupid- he probably shouldn’t have come here, he scolds internally, he shouldn’t be wasting her time, ruining her day like this-
“Stop that” Y/N murmurs, lips ghosting his temple, “I can feel you being hard on yourself.”
Bucky stops breathing for a second. The quick, shallow bursts of air he’s been managing to swallow catching in his throat.
“I’m sorry” he chokes quickly, not wanting to her upset her, somehow, “I-“
“You” she interrupts sweetly, “are very tense, all of a sudden.”
He nods in agreement. He is tense. Every muscle of his body is cramping and locked in place. He tries to relax them, making a conscious effort to let his shoulders sag, even if it’s only for a moment.
“I ran” he confesses next, ashamed eyes staying closed, against her skin, “I was with the others, and I- I couldn’t take the shoutin’- I- I just ran”
That’s not a surprise. It’s game day, and most of the towers occupants had decided to go and watch the match together in the home cinema Tony had built into one of the lower suites.
They’re rowdy, at the best of times, and things had been… tense, since Barnes’ arrival.
Months had passed, by now, but the atmosphere is still malleable. It fluctuates, depending on the day, on the mood of the people within it.
Adding a competitive sport, where people supported differing teams, usually lead to boisterous play fighting, at the very least.
Y/N had declined the invitation, along with Wanda and Bruce.
“Who was winning?” she asks gently, feeling his chest gives a meagre attempt at a tremor.
"No idea" Bucky murmurs with a weak attempt at a shrug, “Everyone was yellin’, doll”
She nods, and pulls him a little closer towards her front.
“They do that” she says, “I warned ya’, I said it might get a little loud in there-”
I told you so, isn’t what Y/N is trying to say, not exactly, but, it doesn’t change the fact that she had. She had warned him that going down with Steve might not be the best idea, not when he hasn’t been sleeping, not when the seasons are changing to winter, and he can barely get through the day without disappearing for hours at time.
She’d offered to join him in the end, hoping that she might keep an eye on things, step in if he needed an escape. Compromise, sweetened with a lovely smile. But he’d declined, with a chaste kiss against her lips, and a beer in his hand, and told her to go and get some work done without him bothering her for once.
"You never bother me, sweetheart", she’d told him honestly, palm stroking his cheek, "I promise, but go, have fun with Steve, and remember where I am, if you want me for somethin’"
His head shakes the memory away. He feels his metal fingers digging into the bed of his flesh thumb until it starts to sting.
Stupid, he scolds silently, gritting his teeth against the tension of his tight metal fist, It was stupid to let Sam talk me into it.
“Doesn’t matter anyway” Y/N soothes, “nobodies yellin’ here”
No, he thinks, please don’t yell at me.
He couldn’t take that, Y/N is safe, she’s gentle, and kind, and she loves him, even if he doubts she could possibly love him as much as he loves her, he believes her when she tells him that she cares, and she tells him all the time-
“I love you” she whispers, as if on cue, “You’re okay, nothin’ bad’s comin’”
Bucky knows he’s starting to shiver, now, he can feel the way his body is trembling against the steady surface of hers.
He makes a poor attempt at stilling it as he nods, stubble grazing her shoulder.
Nothing bad’s coming, he repeats to himself, desperate to believe it.
“We should let Steve know you’re with me” Y/N suggests gently, “Don’t want him turnin’ round and you havin’ vanished-”
“He saw me go” Bucky tells her, voice still awfully low, “I ran- I- I just bolted, Y/N/N-I-”
“That’s fine” she’s quick to assure him, “As long as he knows you’re okay, you know how he worries-”
“I’m not” he murmurs, the tragic admission slipping past his lips before he could swallow it down, “I- I- I ran, like- like a fuckin’ animal I-“
“You” Y/N cuts in again, “are being too hard on yourself, as usual.”
Her hand sweep down his spine, making his back arch in response to the gentle trail of heat.
“I-“ he tries to insist, “I-"
He lets himself fall silent, not knowing how to express the intense well of self-loathing that’s heavy in his chest.
It’s been a fixture of his being for so long, now, along with guilt and bitter, un-relenting fear that he doesn’t remember what it’s like to be completely without it.
This newer, shame driven anger is still jarring, though.
He’d run away like a child, he’d slammed the door so hard it had cracked down the centre, and despite the way he’s safe, now, with no one shouting anywhere he can hear, he still can’t make himself settle, he still doesn’t trust that nobodies going to burst into the room, and tear him away by his hair, to bark orders in his face, and torture him some how.
That thought makes his fingers knot together again. He tries to breath, to remind himself that he’s not there anymore, that he’s somewhere where he’s allowed to run away, now.
Y/N feels his back heave, she feels him steady it, bracing himself to either defend against a blow that is never going to come, or to stop himself from crying.
She sighs gently, reaching up to stroke the long, tangles of hair that are sitting heavy and sweat dampened at the base of his neck.
He tenses at the contact, still expecting something crueller.
“It’s just me, Buck” Y/N reminds him quietly, trailing her fingers through the mess of brown, “Here, just me, see?”
She can feel his muscles twitching again, so when he relents to her suggestion, and starts to sit back on his haunches, eyes wide as he stares at her face, she can’t help but reach out to cup his cheek-
His head snaps sidewards in a frantic bid to protect his face.
Her heart strings tighten as she realises that he’s expecting a slap.
Bucky feels his blood thrumming through his veins, his arm whines pitifully, and his eyes stay screwed shut, even as he starts panting a little more heavily.
“Oh, Sweetheart… no…”
His heart only speeds up at the prospect of being chastised, some how.
But then, he feels the warmth of her palm on his cheek- he flinches, not able to stop the reflex.
Y/N just hushes him, a slow, easy breath melting in the air between them as her fingers ghost his cheek.
He looks terrible, really, the hollows under his eyes are dark, and there’s a graze above his brow from training that morning, she knows his flesh knuckles are still bruised, too- even if he’s hiding them in his pocket. His chapped lips look sore, and his jaw is locked, the muscle bulging under her thumb, as she sweeps it across the skin.
“That’s it” she praises lightly, seeing him relenting to the kindness of the interaction, “You’re tired, aren’t you?”
Bucky lets himself hum, enjoying the affection he’s being treated too.
He’s like a cornered stray, Y/N thinks, like any wrong move might cause him to bolt.
Except he's already bolted. He ran away, and kept running until he'd found her.
She keeps her tone soft, and her movements slow, as she reaches over to his neck with her other hand.
He doesn’t recoil, this time, but she can’t quite tell if that’s because he’s calming down, or if it’s because he’s scared to risk the movement.
“I know” she murmurs sweetly, “I know you like that, it’s alright”
Her thumb and forefinger have slipped up to stroke the marred skin behind his ear. There’s a deep, old, scar there, and he’s told her before, about how much he likes it when she soothes it for him.
It’s endearing, really.
The way his eyes flutter open, nervous and muddled before recognition and affection fill them.
Y/N beams at him, nodding encouragingly as he leans back into her touch, exposing his throat for her.
“Come on now, sweetheart” she purrs, “No more shoutin’- I promise”
Bucky offers her a jerky nod, as he sniffs in through his nose.
“I- I love you” he murmurs, because it’s true, and he feels like he should tell her, “I- I’m just… I-“
“I know” she tells him calmly, “It’s alright, you’re exhausted”
“I’m scared, doll” he alters anxiously, “when… When I- When I was there… it felt like everyone was always shoutin’ at me…”
Y/N doesn’t stop him, even though he’d said he didn’t want to talk about it earlier, she just continues the way she’s stroking his face, letting him collect his thoughts the best he can.
“I-I don’t remember a time when someone spoke, to me, like- like a person… it- It was always, someone yellin’, givin’ me my orders, or- or tellin’ me where to go. They’d talk about me, with each other sometimes, but…”
He quiets for a moment, shaking his head a fraction, nuzzling into her wrist.
“Sometimes when it’s quiet I hear screamin’ in my head…” he confesses, “… sometimes it’s my own, from… from when they’d…”
Y/N hears the crack in his voice, it makes tears sting behind her eyes- she brings her fingers up, over his lips to quiet him.
He kisses at her skin, before sighing sadly.
“Sometimes it’s… sometimes it’s the people I killed- I- I hear them cryin’ out- beggin’ me to stop-“
Her head tilts, she drops her palm back to his jaw, to let him continue, since it seems like he wants to keep speaking, and she has no intention of discouraging his openness.
“I think… sometimes, it’s the officers too” he continues sadly, “I- I hear them shoutin’ orders at me, givin’ me my missions or- or just… fuckin’ screamin’ at me…”
It’s clear he’s slipping, now. His head shakes a fraction, as though that might clear what ever memories he’s uncovered with his admission.
She stills him with her hand, before leaning in and pressing a gentle, careful kiss against his lips.
Bucky feels his chest relax as soon as his mouth meets hers. He exhales long and slow, and relishes in the sweetness of the affection he’s receiving, in the feeling of the woman he loves stroking his jaw as she settles his nerves with a kiss.
By the time he lets Y/N pull away, he’s back to shivering. He’s drained, and clearly embarrassed by the weakness he’s displaying.
but none of that seems to matter, not with the way the woman he loves is watching him, with her warm eyes shining with affection.
He’s exposed like a nerve under her consideration, but as always, her attention only serves to make him feel delicate… to make him feel small and vulnerable.
Those are qualities that HYDRA have spent the better part of a century ripping away from him, piece by piece.
He shudders, when her hands fall away.
“C’mon, handsome” Y/N coos, reluctantly slipping away, back towards the mound of pillows behind her, “Lie down with me?”
The lilt in her velvet tone reminds him that it’s not a command. That she would never command him to do anything, not even something as lovely as laying down between her legs.
He slips into position easily, head settling against her upper thigh, in the bend where it joins her torso.
Y/N smiles approvingly, reaching down to touch his cheeks again, knowing how much he relishes in the luxury of touch.
Because it is a luxury to Bucky, especially now, after… everything.
The trembling of his muscles only intensifies now that his posture is leaning more, and more towards relaxed. His own legs are still bent, but his upper body is pliant, and heavy against his lover, his head lolling over to her fingers.
The air is thick between them, the heating was on before Y/N asked for it to be intensified, and now, the warmth in the room is palpable.
He likes it, he likes how it reminds him that he’s not outside in some god-awful blizzard.
Y/N is still tracing the edges of his face with her fingers, caressing every dip and curve with total adoration, and he can feel the tenderness in the action.
“You’ve got to take it easy, Bucky” She murmurs, thumb finding the graze above his eye, again, “Let yourself rest up a little”
I don’t know how, he thinks sadly, not able to bring himself to say so, out-loud, feeling that that might be one tragic confession too many.
“I know it’s difficult” her soft voice promises, “I know it doesn’t feel right, sweetheart, I know you want to keep movin’, but you’re human, serum or not- and you have to let yourself get better”
“I want to be better” he murmurs, turning over a little to stare up at her face.
He swallows, suddenly feeling very unworthy of the sight.
Y/N is beautiful, truly beautiful, Bucky has always known that, he’s always marvelled at her ability to be so effortlessly lovely-
Blush creeps up his neck when he catches himself staring, lips parted, like some kind of love-struck teenager.
He decides that he’s been far worse than that, before. So, he just blinks, and continues his internal monologue about how not only is the woman he’s lying on attractive, but also, unwaveringly kind.
He’s considering descriptors like etherial, and angelic, when she realises his eyes have fallen shut.
They open with a start, and he sucks in a frantic breath, afraid of how easily he’d slipped into a state of near unconsciousness.
Y/N shakes her head, hushing him again, as she brings her palm back to cup his cheek.
“See? that was good” she says, “You were relaxin’, what were you thinkin’ about?”
“You” Bucky croaks, adrenaline spiking, again, “I- I was thinkin’ about you, doll”
The laugh she gives him is gentle, it’s quiet and sweet.
He loves it.
He loves her.
“Only good things I hope” she teases, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his eyes, “I’d hate for you to be reliving that time that I broke your coffee mug, or somethin’”
Bucky scoffs softly, offering her a small lopsided smile.
“As traumatising as that was” he murmurs, “I think I’ve recovered”
Y/N chuckles again, and the upward curl of Bucky’s lips seems to be a good deal more genuine.
“I’m glad” she coos, “because I’m kinda, totally in love with you, Barnes, and I’d be pretty torn up about you bein’ hurt by somethin’ I’ve done”
“You’ve never hurt me” Bucky bursts quickly, eyes widening a little, “I- I was thinkin’ about how lucky I am, doll- about how beautiful you are- how- how you’re too good for me-”
“I’m not too good for you” she replies calmly, “and, I think you’re beautiful too, for what that’s worth”
His nose screws up a little at comments, Y/N thinks it’s more than a little bit cute.
“and you’re lovely” she drawls, taking the opportunity to shower him in kind words, “and funny, Buck- and brave, and strong and-”
“Stop?” he objects softly, still not feeling comfortable saying something that close to a command, even as a joke, “Please, Y/N/N- I’m… I’m not all that- I’m a damn mess”
Her head shakes, but he ignores the motion
“I’m a grown man who can’t even be in the same room as his friends watchin’ a football game” he continues sadly, “I’ve killed people, good people… I’m torn up- and I- I- ”
Frustration and pure, unbridled self-hatred making his throat tighten, making the words sound almost like sobs.
Her hand strokes his brow, gentle and loving.
“You’re perfect” she soothes, seeing his teeth tugging at his lower lip, “You’re perfect for me, alright? I love you, all of you”
“you dont understand” he murmurs, not knowing what else to say, “I did things-“
“Bucky” Y/N says, capturing his attention, “none of it, was your fault-you were drafted, and after that, all you did was your best.”
“I wanted to help” he says quietly, almost like he's remembering, “I… I never wanted to hurt anyone”
“I know that" she promises, “and you did, you did help, you helped Steve, you helped save all those people-”
“and then I fell” Barnes hears himself whisper, more to himself than to the lovely woman still stroking his cheek.
“and then you fell” Y/N confirms, “and nothing that happened after that, was anything to do with you.”
“It feels like it was” Bucky admits after a harsh swallow, “It feels like all of it was because of me”
He watches her head shake, brown curls cascading down her chest as she stills herself again.
“You’re a good person” she reminds him, “That some very bad things have happened too, but none of those things, make you any less good.”
After a beat of silence Bucky sighs.
“God," “I’m sorry, Y/N/N- I shouldn’t put so much pressure on you-”
She shouldn't have to spend her afternoons snappin' me out of nightmares from a lifetime ago, I couldn't even make it through a game-
“On me?” Y/N scoffs, shaking her head, “Bucky- you don’t put enough on me, you’ve gotta let me help you, at least until you’re feelin’ better”
He blinks, not understanding.
She thinks the blatant confusion on his face is utterly endearing.
“Love,” she says, “You never stop, you're constantly in fight or flight, it's no wonder your adrenalines shot. You haven't had nearly enough time to adjust - to any of this - if you need some peace and quiet then all you have to do is take it"
“Yes, ma’am” he murmurs with a gentle edge of apology in his voice.
Y/N beams at him, and places a kiss against the back of his hand, letting her lips linger against the calloused skin before she lowers their tangled fingers to her lap, by the side of his face.
It's quiet. It's warm, and he's totally in love. It doesn't take him long to pass out at all.
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