#captainamericafic

Until this moment, this split of a second you never realized how meaningless your life has been. Sure, you have joined the Avengers, you have saved the world along them more than once, but you never meant something in someone else’s life. Just an ordinary young woman, with extra abilities and a training that most of people would not survive.

But, not even once, have you heard that you mean something.

And up until now, you didn’t think you would want it. Up until now, being ordinary woman working with the Avengers was enough. It was something.

But it wasn’t it.

______

When Bucky arrived, it all changed. Everyone else tiptoed around him, was gentle and cautious, even Natasha. But not you. You didn’t bother yourself with too much sickening, exasperated kindness and carefulness. You treated him like any other member of the team, not afraid to criticize or tell straight away when you didn’t like something.

It seemed to be exactly what he needed. Not taking it easy on him, as if he would broke at any given moment, but treat him as an equal, regular guy. With a metal arm, but hey, who were you to judge? Sam had removable wings and it was quite a normal thing around there.

Ironically, you never even talked to Bucky longer than few sentences. When you walked onto him in the morning in the kitchen, we’d ask how did you sleep, you’d ask the same and both of you would lie that it was well. Neither of the Avengers wanted to talk about their nightmares, really. It was something you all avoided.

But there wasn’t an uncomfortable, hostile tension between you and Bucky. You worked well together. Every mission you two went on was a success and one time you overheard Steve complaining to Nat that he was jealous that you and Bucky completed each other on missions better than him and Bucky. Nat just laughed it off.

You knew the secret behind it.

Neither you nor Bucky meant a thing to one another. Of course, you were teammates, of course you felt at least a bit of sympathy to each other but that was it. No deeper feelings were involved.

Or were they?

______

A split of second. It’s enough to change one’s life. You always thought that life-changing decision are well-thought, long and tough, fateful and irreversible.

Well, it that case, only last two words are a match.

Time seems to slow down but only for you. You can see Bucky eyeing the other side of the room, his back turned to you. You can hear water leaking from a faucet in an adjacent room. You can smell a stench of rot, of stale air, of a space that hasn’t been properly cleaned in ages.

There is a metallic taste in your mouth, your blood pumping in your ears, your body tensed and ready.

Bucky thinks that he’s safe, that you’re safe, and if you do nothing, he will die with that conviction.

The attacker moves noiselessly and you have noticed him only by some kind of miracle. If it wasn’t for that, both of you would surely be dead in a heartbeat. But luckily for Bucky, you saw the man sneaking up on him, with his gun pointed directly at Bucky’s head.

And you don’t hesitate as you jump to cover your partner when the attacker pulls the trigger.

You hit the ground with a loud thud, air being punched out of your lungs, a piercing overwhelming pain spreading from your stomach. You hear a gunshot and the attacker’s body hits the floor. Then, a call of your name and a sound of somebody next to you, a cold hand pressed to your belly.

Your eyelids feel heavy, too heavy to keep them open and the darkness seems so alluring, promising, without pain.

“Stark, send a medic, or somebody. Y/N’s shot. No, I can’t do it on my own. Just send that damn doctor!”

“Y/N, stay with me, hey, don’t close your eyes,” Bucky says softly, too softly and so you will your head to turn to the side. You try to frown but a jolting ache courses through your body and you arch your back, stifling a scream.

“Help’s gonna be here any moment,” he assures but you don’t believe in it. It’s impossible for anyone to arrive at time and lord, can someone take that pain away? It’s too much to handle, too much to consciously bare, and so, ignoring Bucky’s words, you close your eyes.

And greet the darkness with a relief.

_____

The room is filled with an electronic ticking of machines. A harsh light of halogen lamps attacks your eyes as you try to open them, squeezing them shut in an instant.

You moan as your mind comes to consciousness, numbed by the dose of meds that are pumped into your system by the tubes attached to your body.

There’s a sigh of relief coming from your left and with great effort you slide your head to the direction and open your eyes slightly.

Your vision is blurry but you can’t mistake the messy brown hair and ocean eyes for anybody else.

“You’re dumb, you know it?”

“Nice to see you, too,” you croak, your voice harsh, your throat filling as if it’s full of broken glass.

Bucky sighs again, but in next moment you feel a lip of a plastic cup pressed against our mouth as he helps you take a sip of water. It tastes delicious.

You blink a few times, adjusting to the lights.

“How bad is it?”

“You’ll pull through.”

“Why do I have a feeling it’s not good?” you jest but Bucky doesn’t smile. His expression is hard to read, emotionless almost.

“Natasha said she’d kill you if you died. Steve hadn’t slept since you were brought in here.”

“Had you?”

“No.”

A silence falls between the two of you, both of you only staring at each other, trying to figure out what to say next. Your mind is racing. Was it not a right thing to do, to take a bullet for your partner? Did they blame you for trying to save Bucky?

“He’d kill you if I didn’t do it.”

“So you decided to die for me?”

“I decided to save you.”

“Why?”

“Bucky, does it matter?”

“It does to me.”

You take a breath, your chest aching a little as you do so.

“You mean more to them than me.”

He lets out a surprised scoff.

“That’s the biggest bullshit I’ve ever heard. And believe me, I heard plenty.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“Y/N, I don’t get it.”

“Which part you don’t get?”

“The one when you decided I mean more than you. Why? Why am I more important?”

“Didn’t you see the lengths Steve went to get you back?”

“He’d do the same for you.”

“Natasha won’t admit it, but she’d kill anybody that threatened you.”

“And she wouldn’t if you were in danger? Y/N, every single one in the team would-“

“Would what? Miss me if I’ll die?”

“Yes,” he states firmly, the sureness in his voice and certainty in his eyes making you speechless. This time you don’t think he’s laying. This time it’s genuine and it strikes you just how recklessly you acted. And how blind you were.

“I, for that matter, wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if you died saving me. So don’t do it again. Ever.”

“But what if-“

“No what-ifs, Y/N. Next time we’re on a mission, I will make sure you don’t do something that stupid.”

“Bucky-“

“No, listen to me,” he leans in and reaches for your hand, taking it gently into his bionic one. He knows you’re not repulsed by it.

“I am not letting you die while trying to save me, or anyone else. You do not deserve it, okay? We have our backs but you’re not allowed to risk your life.”

“And you’re going to make sure of it.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t bear losing you,” he admits quietly and as his words sink in you finally realize why he seemed to be so angry with you.

The tension in the room is heavy, almost palpable and Bucky hangs his head low, pursing his lips. He messed up. He should’ve waited, shouldn’t have thrown it that fast, that unexpectedly.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“You said you didn’t sleep for quite some time.”

“Yes, why?”

“Do you think-“ you swallow a lump in your throat and gaze shyly into his eyes. “Do you think you can lay with me for a while? I think I’m gonna fall asleep soon, too much sedatives.”

He freezes only for a few seconds, and then he stands up and walks to the opposite side of bed. You gingerly scoot to the left to make him more place and he cautiously climbs into the bed, laying still, waiting for you to get comfortable.

You reach back for his arm and wrap it around your waist as you carefully press your back to his side. He rolls onto his side, and you feel his warm breath fanning over your neck.

You mean something. You finally mean something to someone. And that someone means something to you, too.

Late evening finds you in the kitchen area, making yourself yet another cup of tea. It’s your pick-me-up drink – green tea with honey and you usually make it when your mood is down.

Which is almost every day lately.

You’re ordinary. And it wouldn’t be that bad if you were surrounded by similar ordinary non-special people. But you, being a Maximoff, are living with a team of skilled, gifted people, the Avengers, which makes you feel like a not needed obstacle at times.

Wanda and Pietro never did anything to make you feel unwanted. When you were at Strucker’s base, during the experiments, you were fairly convinced that you, too, would show a sign of mutation, just as they did.

It turned out that the scepter did not affect you in a way it did your sibling, making you nothing more but a rubbish. Only Wanda’s angry protests resulted in you being kept there. Strucker was ready to get rid of you when an occasion occurred, since you were useless, having manifested no mutation.

You had no idea why you failed at it. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Wanda and Pietro were twins, maybe it was because they were older. Nobody knew.

And since the day the Avengers came and destroyed the base you were only proven that you were only Wanda’s and Pietro’s sister and only because of it they allowed you to live with at the compound.

Sure, you were clever and sometimes helpful, especially during an emergency rescue missions when everything had to be settled immediately, within a few minutes. You knew how to stay focused and organized and there were times when Tony didn’t even touch anything because you had everything handled within seconds.

Still, you were not irreplaceable. If you left, they would surely do well without you.

Heaving out a sigh, you take the cup and make to the living area. You plan on watching a comedy or something of that sorts, in hopes that it will cheer you up.

You have the entire place to yourself – the rest is on the mission. Only Bucky, Steve’s friend, was left at the compound. Usually, the two of you would just mind one another’s business, even while being in the same room; sometimes you’d spent hours on talking. You wouldn’t call it friendship but you enjoyed being around him. He was quiet, but once he opened his mouth,  you could be sure he’d throw a joke here and there or tell you something he had recalled about 40s.

But today you want to be alone. You don’t want to talk to anybody, don’t want to see anyone, just you and your tea. And maybe a movie.

Once you reach the living area, you carefully place the cup on the table and reach for the remote while making yourself comfortable on the couch. You curl up in the couch’s end, your knees almost touching your chin. You are aware that you look miserable but it’s not like anyone will notice. Maybe Wanda, if she was here, would sense that you were upset.

Shuffling through the channels you have yet to find anything interesting and because of the noise the TV makes you don’t hear Bucky entering the place. You notice his presence only when he lets out a small huff while sitting down.

You jerk your head, quite startled and Bucky smiles softly.

“Sorry, Y/N, didn’t want to scare you.”

“It’s okay,” you say, shrugging and turn your attention to the screen. Finally, you find a Friends marathon and decide to watch it.

Frankly, you don’t pay too much attention to what is happening in the show. You just stare at the screen blindly, your mind occupied with the thoughts of being in the way, of being unneeded and useless.

You tug on sleeves of your sweater. It’s oversized, so you’re able to cover your entire palms, which you do, hugging your legs to your chest. You don’t see it but Bucky’s glancing at you every now and then, he’s face concerned. Yes, he noticed that you were out of sorts pretty often but usually a bit of jesting would make you smile and you were always up for a conversation. But not today. Today you seem oddly detached, unsure and utterly sad.

“Y/N,” he calls your name quietly, not wanting to prod too much. You don’t seem to hear it so he calls again, a bit louder this time.

“Hm?” you absentmindedly answer, not even looking at him and Bucky shifts a bit closer.

“I’m wearing Sam’s boxers.”

“That’s cool,” you say emotionlessly, like a robot and for a moment Bucky fears that something really bad happened to you. You sound almost like him while he was under HYDRA’s control.  

“Y/N, can you look at me?”

“No, I’m busy. I’m watching the show.”

“Commercial break is on right now,” he states and you blink. When did it happen?

“Oh,” you pant and turn your gaze at him. Was he so close before or you didn’t even notice when he scooted closer?

“You okay?” he inquires, his voice soft, his eyes sympathetic and you find yourself unable to bottle it up any longer.

“No, Bucky. What am I even doing here?” you whine, tears filling your eyes and you bite at your lower lip to prevent them from falling.

“Right now we’re sitting in a dark room, watching ice cream commercial. But that’s not what you meant, is it?”

You shake your head and sniffle. Bucky reaches to the table to give you a tissue box before you start crying. You can’t hold it back anymore – the insecurities you kept hidden have clawed their way out and you can’t do much about it now.

“I’m useless,” you stutter between cries and Bucky knits his brows, a look of disbelief clear on his face.

“That’s bullshit, doll.”

“No, Bucky. I don’t do anything here. There’s nothing special about me.”

“You’re wrong, Y/N.”

“I’m not. I’m just a girl who’s here because my sister can do stuff with her mind and my brother runs super fast.”

“Maybe that’s what special about you, okay? That you didn’t let the scepter change you?”

“Bucky, that doesn’t make sense,” you protest as you wipe at your cheeks and Bucky smirks.

“No, it does. Just hear me out. You’re so wonderful and strong inside that the scepter couldn’t break you.”

You frown, not really following his logic. Is he really suggesting that you sibling was too weak to fight back the scepter’s power but you succeeded? How could he even think of it that way?

“Look, the only special person around here is Thor. He’s a God, like a legit, real God, but the rest? We’re all just a bunch of people who were given a serum or something. Tony’s a genius, nothing very special about it –“ you snort and Bucky gives you an amused look. “- Sam’s got his wings but without them he’s just a regular guys. Nat was trained since young to be an assassin. Steve and I got a super-soldier juice. Bruce, well… Bruce is, uhm, different.”

“He’s a green mountain of rage,” you say, your voice playful and Bucky cracks a grin.

“If you put it this way… But you know what I mean? You’re the most special from all of us. You wanna know why?”

“Yeah.”

“Because even though you don’t have ‘super powers’ you put up with all this madness which is living with us and without a word of comply you give your time to bake us cookies or read Clint a book when he’s beefing that he’s so very tired after a mission. You listen to my rumbling. You always say good stuff about Steve’s sketches. Nat told me that you’re best when it comes to picking an outfit for a night out.”

“No, I’m not,” you try to protest but Bucky taps your nose which makes you wrinkle it.

“Don’t downgrade yourself, doll. We’d be lost without you, really. I know I would!” he assures and cup your cheeks, suddenly feeling bashful. You never looked at it the way Bucky just presented. To you, it seemed your presence was bothering everyone and they were nice only out of courtesy.

“I’m really that important?”

“Hell yes! Remember when you told Tony he should turn the project upside down to look for faults? He actually ended up making it that way because it was better. And he stated, out loud and in front of witnesses, that you’re smarter than him.”

“Shut up, Bucky.”

“Do I see a blush there?” he teases and you hide your face in your hands to cover it. He damn sure saw you blushing very clearly.

“Y/N, doll, please, don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you mumble from behind your hands and Bucky chuckles airily as he reaches to uncover your face. You shiver slightly at the contrast of temperature of his hands but it’s not unpleasant. You always found it fascinating.

“That’s better,” he says and smiles brightly when you look at him, your hands squeezed in his. It’s hard to not smile while Bucky’s face is lit up and so you do, readily throwing yourself in his embrace when he opens his arms for you.

He quickly scoops you up his lap, his arms wrapped around your frame, his thumbs rubbing small circles on your back. You feel so at easy, so peaceful that you nuzzle your face into his neck, almost melting into him.

He doesn’t seem to mind, his arms tightening slightly around you. You sigh contently, closing your eyes as Bucky tilts his head to press a quick kiss to your forehead.

Paradoxically, the man who was the most distant and quiet, was the one to pick you up and help you look at yourself in a totally new light. And with a newly gained confidence about yourself you decide to say something you buried so deep that even your sister couldn’t find it.

“I like you, Bucky,” you state simply and you feel Buck’s lips curl up in a smile.

“I like you, too, Y/N.”

You have been on countless missions, easy and difficult ones, short and long, dangerous and exhausting.  You were paired up with all of the team, yet nothing could ever prepare you for what you have been faced with now.

A god-only-knows how much time, locked in what looked like storage, with your very good friend. Sure, you wouldn’t be panicking if it was somebody else, but Bucky… Bucky makes your blood boil every time you’re near him.

And no, not in a bad way. He doesn’t annoy you and heavens know you are not scared of him because of what HYDRA made him do. You have met him when he was recovering, trying to regain his memories. You, Sam and Steve had traveled to Romania to save Bucky and you weren’t thinking about anything else than to get everybody somewhere safe.

But then, as the conflict was, more or less, solved and you were staying at Wakanda, you and Bucky have become more than just teammates. You had been supporting Steve where Bucky was in cryo, and then when he was awoken, you had helped him readjust.

Quickly, Bucky and you become friends. Hours spent on talking strengthen the bond between the two of you gradually, and much to your happiness, there were times when Bucky favored your company over Steve’s.

Still, you made sure than two old friends were around each other frequently enough, more often than not ending up as the third participant of movie nights, pranking Sam or simply reading books while cuddling.

Yet, somewhere along the way, when your mind was at ease, when there was nothing threatening, you noticed that Bucky has become significantly more important. You couldn’t imagine not seeing him, even once a day. You had waited for him to knock on your door where a nightmare woke him up in the middle of the night. When something happened, Bucky was the first person you wanted to tell.

It happened quietly, as if you were always meant to fall in love with him, you just needed time to grow to it, just as Bucky. It was easy to be around him and forget about all your worries when he started to joke or sing a song from his past. It wasn’t hard to lose yourself in his stories about old times, or when enthusiasm lit up his ocean-like eyes when he kept rambling about a new thing he discovered.

Of course, you read about soulmates in many books. However, it never occurred to you that the term might be real, might be reflected in your own life. It seemed impossible to feel something that strong, something that fulfilling and earth-shattering to other person.

It all changed when you got to know Bucky. When you realized that you truly thought that his and yours soul were the same.

Or, because to you Bucky’s mind and soul were as rich and beautiful as a galaxy, you and him were made from the same star.

You didn’t utter a word to anyone. Although you were sure that Nat knew (she always knows, nothing can be a secret for too long around her), nobody was to know about what you truly felt for Bucky.

Simply because you did not think he would feel the same way about you. What else could you be to him but a supportive, kind friend?

“Y/N? You okay?” Bucky whispers close to your ear, bringing you back to the present moment. Your situation is problematic, to say the least.

The two of you were supposed to sneak in to a probable HYDRA facility and retrieve the Red Notebook, which somehow got into their hands again. Bucky’s brain was fixed, but better safe than sorry, right?

Well, sure, it was going perfectly until you stumbled upon a room, filled with dozens of armed HYDRA soldiers, looking as if they were waiting for a certain someone to come in. You assumed it was most likely Bucky they were waiting for.

So, you and Bucky did one thing you could at the moment. You ran to a nearest empty place which happened to be a storage. You have sent a message to T’challa, asking for help and now you are stuck in a small space with your crush, who is pressed in a weird position against your back. His arms are propped on a wall in front of you, just above your head, his feet on the floor between your slightly parted legs. And for some reason he’s been trying not to touch the opposite wall, but you didn’t have time to sneak a peak of what’s there.

You rest your forehead on a cold wall, heaving out a sigh.

“I’m fine, Buck. You?”

“You don’t seem fine,” he remarks seriously but you can hear concern in his voice.

“I’m very much fine, really. I just don’t like this place.”

“Yeah, me neither. How long Kitty King said it would take him?”

You roll your eyes, happy that Bucky can’t see you. No matter how long he and T’challa spent with one another, they couldn’t stop picking on each other. The bickering seemed to their way of communication and various sarcastic nicknames soon subbed for their real names.

“An hour, more or less. I’m counting on less.”

“Same here, doll. I don’t think I can bear much.”

“What, you’re not happy to be in my company?” you tease, glancing at his over your shoulder. You can hardly see more than his jaw and his lips, which are curled up in a smirk.

“Nope, that’s a huge perk of being stuck here. It’s just that- you won’t panic, will you Y/N?”

A cold shiver runs down your spine but you brace yourself and shake your head.

“Good, ‘cause there’s a loaded grenade launcher behind my back.”

“A what?!” you shriek, suddenly very fond of the wall as you press yourself further into it, folding your arms on your chest. You place your palms flat onto the wall, your head resting on them.

Bucky shifts a bit closer to you, gaining a small, yet oh so important distance from the weapon.

“Why the hell is it loaded?”

“Dunno, Y/N.”

“Who keeps a loaded grenade launcher in a tiny storage?”

“Maybe they wanted to have it close at hand?”

“Bucky!”your voice rises an octave and Bucky shushes you.

“Just breathe, doll. T’challa is going to rescue us and we’re going to get out alive from here.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, promise.”

“Alright,” you smile softly as Bucky leans in and kisses the top of your head. Of course, dread doesn’t leave you mind, it skyrockets as you realize that Bucky would be the first one to het the blow.

Damn him and his gentlemanly manners.

“Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“If we get out of here, I’ll make you a pile of pancakes.”

“When we get out of here, Y/N.”

“Okay, when we’re out of here, I’ll make you pancakes.”

“Sounds great. With maple syrup and marshmallows?”

“Sure, whatever you want. By the way, how can you stomach so much sweetness it’s beyond me.”

He shrugs a little, a small movement that sends tickles over body.

“It’s yummy and I love it.”

“Super-soldiers,” you mumble with mocked disbelief, but there’s fondness in your voice and it makes Bucky chuckle soundlessly, his chest vibrating against your back.

You can’t stop a shiver from coursing through your body.

“You’re cold?”

“No, it’s nothing.”

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Buck?”

“This may be our last moment alive - ”

“You’re such an optimist, James.”

“Let me finish, doll. As I was saying, this may be our last moment alive, which is way I want to ask you something.”

His voice sounds oddly bashful and you want to turn around and look at him, but you know you can’t. The launcher could fire, depriving Bucky of a chance to say what he has in mind.

Bucky takes a deep breath and only now you realize how nervous he is. The jesting and lighthearted tone was only a façade, most likely meant for you to stop panicking. But the truth was – Bucky was beyond anxious, stuck in a small space with you, the girl who made him believe in love again, who made him want to share his every waking moment with her, who he wanted to see the first thing in the morning and the last at night.

Sure, for a very long time he only thought of you as a great friend and frankly, never even considered a possibility that you might want something more, yet now, when he was face to face with the possibility of missing his chance, Bucky decided that there he couldn’t wait anymore.

“Can I kiss you?”

Time freezes, for both of you. Bucky’s afraid that with that question he’s ruined your friendship and you frown, unable to believe your own ears.

Has your mind tricked you?

“W-what?” you cleverly ask, shifting a little to be able to gaze at him.

Bucky’s tongue glides over his bottom lip as his eyes drop at your parted mouth.

“I know I never gave you a sign, doll, but damn, now I know I should. I was a blind idiot, so forgive me for wasting so much time.”

“O-okay,” you mutter and Bucky nods.

“So, I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Sure,” you smile and tilt your head to the side when Bucky leans in. Your lips meet and even though the position is not very comfortable, you wouldn’t want it any other way.

The kiss is tender and chaste only at the beginning. It quickly turns into an intense, hungry one, both of you desperate to taste one another and you moan breathlessly when Bucky’s tongue rubs against yours in the second you part your lips.

His flesh hand lands on your hip, the metal one remains propped onto the wall as you reach to hold onto it while your other hand tangles into his hair, pulling him closer.

You only break the kiss for a short moment when the two of you need a breath, but as soon as your lungs are refilled with air, your lips are locked again, not having enough of each other.

The two of you are way too lost in one another to hear the sound of shooting, quickened footsteps and shouting in Russian. Surely, with your senses invaded and focused only on Bucky, you are too overwhelmed to fathom that the facility is very quiet.

Much to your surprise, the door to the storage is swung open and you pull away from Bucky with a yelp, covering your mouth with the hand you had in Bucky’s hair.

“They’re fine. Found them making out in a storage at the back,” Sam reports into his com, amusement evident in his voice and you wish that the Earth opened up and swallowed you.

Of course, nothing of that sorts happens and you have to walk past snickering Sam as, with Bucky’s help, you squeeze yourself out of the small room. Before you close the door, you look in the opposite corner and your eyes grow wide, your blood boiling with not lust but anger.

“James Buchanan Barnes!” you growl, spinning around and marching towards the man.

“Y-yes, babydoll?” you got to admit, he tries to keep his cool, despite looking more than frightened.

“Are your eyes fine? I mean, do you maybe need glasses?” you sync your steps with his, being now at his side as you stare at him with feign worry.

“No, why are you asking, my beautiful angel?”

“Don’t sugar me, the launcher wasn’t loaded.”

“You told her it was loaded?!” Sam gives in to the laughter, cackling loudly as he pats Bucky’s back while passing him. Bucky gulps and tries to sport an innocent look.

“Y/N, please-“

“Stop with puppy eyes, you’re in so much trouble once we’re back in Wakanda.”

“But pancakes?” he whines and you throw your arms in the air.

“No pancakes for you. No cuddles and no Eskimo kisses either.”

“Y/N, doll, please!”

“No, Bucky,” you say sternly and climb into a quinjet, Bucky following  suit. Before you can take a seat next to Sam, who’s the pilot, Bucky drops onto his knees in front of you and wraps his arms tightly around your hips. You roll your eyes at him.

“I’m sorry.”

“You better be.”

“I’m a fool.”

“There’s no denying it.”

“I’m only a fool for you,” he murmurs and pouts adorably and you can feel yourself melting at the sight.

“You guys are so fucking sappy,” Sam mumbles, though he doesn’t sound disgusted. There’s an odd fondness in his voice. “Y/N, he meant well, he’s just incapable of showing his emotions without life-threatening danger looming over his head. He created favorable circumstances.”

“Is that true?” you quirk up a brow and Bucky nods his head fervently.

“Are you comfortable in this position?” you ask, spinning your finger over your lower half and Bucky.

“Yes, why?” he knits his brows a little although the sparkles in his eyes tell you that he knows what you meant.

“You’re gonna be in it a lot tonight,” you announce and laugh when Sam lets out a heavy sight, mumbling something about not being paid enough to deal with this shit.

You giggle when you feel Bucky’s head pressing against your stomach and you comb your fingers through his hair.

Even if the danger wasn’t real, what Bucky said was, and you think you can forgive the little antic.

You’re in the middle of preparing instruments for another patient when a barely audible knocking makes you turn your head towards the door to your room.

„H-hi, I was called for a check up,” a tall, dark-haired man speaks up, standing at the door as if he doesn’t know if he should walk in or run for his life.

You flash him a soft smile.

„Yes, please come in,” you encourage him, patting a settee on your left and, forcing out a tight smile, he slowly approaches it, sliding up on it. He lets out a shaky breath.

„My name’s Y/N, and as you probably figured I’m team’s nurse. It’s a standard procedure, just a normal check up. Nothing invasive, I promise.”

“Yeah, I know, Steve told me,” he mutters, watching as you take out a file and open it.

“Mister Barnes, yes?”

“Call me Bucky.”

“Alright then, Bucky, can we begin?”

He nods, rubbing his flesh hand on his sweatpants  as you gently put a barometer around his bicep.

“Try to relax, Bucky, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know, it’s just...” he swallows thickly, his gaze flickering to a trace with the instruments, focusing on a  syringe. “I’m not fond of needles. Been stung so many times it’s probably enough for a few lifetimes,” he tries to joke but it’s pretty evident that the thought of needles makes him nervous and anxious.

He’s not the first one to reach that way at the sight of syringe.

When you first came to work as a nurse for the Avengers you were prepared for a team of fearless people, who would not get scared by a prospect of taking blood samples. Contrary to your assumptions, most of them freaked out, more or less.

Natasha was always composed, she only wanted to be done with it as quick as possible. Thor and Vision were both fascinated and asked you a lot of questions about everything you were doing. It was a great occasion to revise your knowledge.

Bruce knew it was necessary but that didn’t mean he liked it. He always flinched when you took his blood.

Only Tony and Steve were never stressed out. They walked in, chatted with you as you did your job, Tony usually trying to flirt with you. Apparently, they were used to needles, but given their life experience you weren’t surprised.

“Now, don’t talk for a while. This will vibrate a little.”

“I’m kinda used to vibrating stuff,” he says, waving his metal hand at you and you smile warmly before pressing a start on the barometer.

Bucky falls silent, yet you can still see how fidgety he is. His eyes wander every now and then on your tray and you wonder how to trick him and occupy him while you’ll be taking his blood.

An idea pops up in your mind when you remember Steve’s recent visit. He told about how he and Bucky used to kill time in the 40s, how different the world was and what improved since then. Maybe chatting Bucky up is a good way to take his mind off the needles?

The barometers makes a quiet ‘ding’ sound and so you quickly note the result down in Bucky’s file and remove it from his bicep.

“A bit quickened but let’s say it’s because of the serum,” you say confidentially and Bucky gives you a lopsided smile.

You move to the tray and, putting on latex gloves, ready the syringe after unwrapping a clean needle.  Bucky takes a deep breath and you began to feel sorry for him. God only knows what it does remind him of.

“So, Steve told me you were quite a charmer back in the 40s?” you say as you pour a peroxide on a cotton wad and then press it in the crook of his elbow.

“He can’t keep his mouth shut, can he?” Bucky laughs through his nose and you nod, throwing the wad into the trash can.

“He was such a chatterbox, little Stevie,” he muses and you smirk, hoping that your scheme will work just fine. You glance at Bucky, glad to see that his gaze is fixed on a window, giving you an opportunity to do your job, hopefully unnoticed.

You place a rubber tie above his elbow so that the veins become prominent, and dab below his elbow a few times, checking if he noticed. He seems to be lost in his thoughts as a fond smile appears on his face.

“He was constantly bubbling, getting all excited about stuff. New sketchbook? Stevie would give you a detailed review why was it good or bad. Same when he got new pencils. His mom used to joke that she wished Steve had an off switch. Sometimes, he was really too much.”

“Same around girls?” you ask, taking a syringe and when you press the needle against his skin, Bucky doesn’t even move. Points to you.

“No, that punk would stutter like an idiot near girls! He couldn’t say a word, couldn’t speak a sentence, I had to do all the talking for him. It was like his mouth didn’t cooperate with his brain,” he chuckles and you use that moment to sink the needle in his vein, taking the blood in no time.

“But the 40s were great, I guess. Though, Steve still gets into trouble way too easily. Back then, I used to tease him that he should’ve changed his middle name to ‘trouble’, ‘cause he always found it. It followed him like a shadow, really. Like he had this radar in his head that scanned the surroundings and always spotted a path with drunk guys or something like that on it.”

You dispose the needle into a trash can and quickly prepare a wad, which you press against the sting, unwrapping the tie and bending Bucky’s arm.

“Thank you for cooperation, Bucky. We’re done here,” you announce happily and Bucky blinks a few times, gazing at you.

“Wait, you did-? I didn’t feel anything!” he marvels, looking at his arms with disbelief. You grin as you take off the gloves and throw them as well.

“You’re not my first patient who’s afraid of needles. I know how to do my job.”

“Holy cow, you’re amazing, doll,” he says with wide opened eyes and you shrug. You’re happy that you managed to not cause him any pain, physical or mental.

“When do you finish your shift?” he asks out of sudden as he stands up, making you jerk your head to look at him, caught off guard.

“Err...In two hours,” you answer, excitement bubbling in your chest as you realize that he’ll most likely ask you out.

“Okay,” he nods his head, flashing you a wide smile. “I’ll pick you up then, Y/N.”

“I’d love that.”

He heads out, giving you one last bright smile and once he’s gone, you cup your cheek, not even surprised when you find it warm.