Top Posts Tagged with #crazyinlove

Crazy in Love

So, it’s been a hot minute since I posted anything. I was having trouble with my external hard drive and even now I have to use my old, slow as shit laptop to post this. This one came from a story prompt given to me by @everythingisoverrated I hope you like it.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 8,681

Summary: An attack is coming from outer space. Big surprise. Another day, another dollar. Team Cap and Team Iron Man are joining forces, but Steve calls in someone from Bucky’s past to help with this particular mission. And Bucky isn’t happy about it at all.

Warning: Smut, anger, angst, violence, deadly injuries, and obviously swearing because it’s me.

IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, DON’T READ ANY FURTHER

“I dunno, Steve. This is crazy, even for you.” Bucky mutters, rolling up his scouting maps.

“That’s why I’ve brought in help.” Steve has a wicked glint in his eye and Bucky doesn’t like it one bit.

“By help you mean... Natasha? Or Wanda?” He asks, tucking his maps away.

“Uh, close.” Steve focuses on someone behind him. Bucky half turns and groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You have got to be kidding me.” He starts to turn back to his best friend. “Steven-“

Shockingly, Steve is nowhere to be seen.

“Damn it, Rogers,” Bucky mutters. You approach and Bucky isn’t sure if he wants to take a swing at you or push you against the wall and kiss you like his life depends on it. You always have that effect on him.

Completely infuriating, but stupidly attractive.

“Hey, Buck.” You grin, your eyes dipping down over his body slowly before coming back up to his face.

“Y/N.” He replies through clenched teeth. Better to just stay stock still before his body does something his mind doesn’t approve of.

See, he knows you’re crazy. He knows that being around you is bad for his health, you’re gonna kill him one of these days. Either through stress or just straight putting a bullet in him. But that doesn’t stop him from wanting you every time he sees you. He had to end your relationship months ago when he realized that while his mind said ‘stay away she’s nine pounds of crazy in a five-pound bag’ his body said ‘but the sex is amazing. She’s everything you want.’ You can’t have that kind of conflict in a healthy relationship.

And so he ended it.

And regrets it every day since.

“Looks like we’re gonna be work together.” You say, leaning against the table next to him. Your arm is touching his and he can feel the electricity between you two.

“Look, you just stay on your side of the field and I’ll stay on mine.” He grumbles. He doesn’t want to be any closer to you than he has to. He can already feel his willpower crumbling. “

If that’s how you want to play it.” You shrug and he feels a trap coming. He can feel it hanging in the air, he’s not sure what it’s going to be yet, but he just knows you’re going to trap him, you love your games.

“Great. That’s settled.” He turns and stomps away, making his escape before you can trick him.

“Any spare long-distance rifles I can borrow?” You ask, appearing right next to him. He tries not to flinch, to keep control at least outwardly. You don’t need to know that you startled him.

“In the armory,” Bucky mutters, having no intention of taking you there. You can find your own way.

“I love the armory.” You hum, stretching your arms above your head so your stomach is exposed.

Damn it, he’s not supposed to look.

He snaps his eyes forward.

“Remember the first time you took me there?” You purr, your fingers creeping up his metal arm. “You bent me over the table in the middle-“

“Stop.” Bucky clenches his jaw. His blood is simmering in his veins and he doesn’t want to remember that day, how fucking good you felt all wrapped around him, panting and crying out his name.

Shit.

“What will you give me?” You tease and his heart skips a beat in his chest.

“To stop talking? An-“ he cuts off, knowing he has to be careful with his words. “What do you want?”

“A little contest.”

There it is.

He fucking walked right into it and didn’t even see it coming.

“A contest?” He repeats.

“Yeah. We’re going to be killing alien bad guys all day, might as well make it interesting. Whoever kills the most wins.” You shrug like it’s the simplest thing in the whole world.

“And the winner gets what?” Bucky sighs.

“Anything he or she may want. Within reason, obviously.” You amend and he knows you threw that in for his benefit.

Once you win, and he has no doubt you will, you know he’ll be putty in your talented hands. He could just say no, walk away and that’s the end of it. He opens his mouth to say those little words, but what comes out is so fucked up, he can’t believe his brain actually allowed it.

“You’re on. May the best man win.” Bucky says confidently, already hating his life.

“I’m sure you will.” You purr, rising up on your tiptoes, kissing his cheek and opening the door to the armory.

How the fuck did he end up walking you here? The silver table in the middle is empty, so very empty. He knows where the camera switches are, he could easily disable them and show you once and for all just how dangerous it is for you two to be together, just like he tried showing you that first day in the very same room.

But it’s like you have no sense of fear or self- preservation. He’s not sure if he loves that about you, or if it terrifies him. He watches you walk into the room and you slide up onto the table, lithe and graceful like a cat and god damn it, he has to walk away before he bends you over it again.

He marches off to find Steve. What the fuck was he thinking? Inviting you here? He could just punch him in his perfect stupid face.

“Rogers!” He shouts, spotting his friend up ahead.

“Shit.” He hears Steve mutter, but the big blond knows he’s been caught. “Hey, buddy.” Steve smiles widely.

“Why her?” Bucky demands.

“Because next to you, she’s the best. And I need the best for this.” Steve says calmly. “You’re both adults, you can get along.”

“You don’t understand-“

“Buck, it’s done. I’m sorry but I can’t back down on this. You’re just gonna have to deal with it. Now, I have to go see Natasha. Go play nice.” Steve turns Bucky around and pushes him back to the armory.

“Jerk,” Bucky mutters.

“I heard that, punk,” Steve calls over his shoulder.

Bucky grumbles under his breath and heads back to the armory, his stomach churning into nervous knots. He hates that you make him feel this way and he hates how much he still likes you.

He enters the armory to see you sitting on the table. You’re leaning back, swinging your shapely legs, eyes closed like you’re soaking up rays at the beach.

“I miss your cologne.” You sigh as he enters.

He grabs a duffle bag, loading his ammo of choice. He’s determined to ignore you, to keep his head on straight. He hears you slide off the table, the creaking bringing back memories and he squeezes his eyes shut.

You step up behind him, your slender arms wrapping around his waist and shit, if you don’t fit perfectly. You seem to mold to him from any angle and he shouldn’t like that as much as he does.

“Stop.” He huffs, grabbing your wrists.

“I miss you.” You hum against his back, your fingers curling into his shirt.

“Y/N,”

“No one can ever treat me the way you do. They don’t even come close.” You moan, burying your face in his shoulder. Your nails dig into his skin and god help him, he loves the sting of it. He shakes his head, pulling your hands away from his body.

“Where’s your rifle?” He snaps, moving away. He can feel the scratches you’ve left under his shirt.

“The cabinet is locked.” You pout. He sighs and pulls out his keys, unlocking the rifle cabinet. You hover behind him, a grin spreading wide across your beautiful face. "Oh, look at these sweet babies!” You gasp, pushing past him and pulling out his rifle. He takes it from your hands, a scowl crossing his face.

This is the problem with you, no sense of propriety. “Can you please stop talking about assault rifles like they’re puppies?"

“How many can I have?” You beg, turning to him and grabbing his shirt.

“You can only use one at a time, babe.” He says, the pet name slipping out before he can stop himself. You don’t even argue and he knows he’s gonna regret that.

“I think I’ll go with the ArmaLite AR-50.” You say, lifting the massive thing out of its holding bracket.

“Are you kidding? That thing’s a cannon! Look at the fluted end.” Bucky scoffs.

“That end minimizes the recoil.” You say pointedly, but setting it back in its brackets. “You’re thinking too much about stealth. This mission isn’t about stealth, it’s about defending a city.”

“That’s a fair point. Well, what about the Barrett Model 98B?”

“The Bravo? Yeah, I like that one.” You lift it up and brace it against your shoulder. “Yeah, I like the way this one fits.” You say with a look at him.

“Don’t go there.” He turns his back on you, just as difficult this time as it was when he said goodbye to you the first time.

“Why?” You snap and he turns around. “I don’t get it, Bucky. I let you go before, thinking you’d get over your little tantrum and come back to me. You know it’s the right thing. But it’s been months. You can’t tell me you don’t miss me. No one can understand like me. Even Steve can’t.”

Bucky clenches his jaw, working the muscles there as he struggles to maintain some sort of semblance of control. He can feel it disintegrating as you speak. He knows you’re right, fuck, he knows it. It sits heavy in his chest, prickling at his nerves. And he can’t deny it anymore. It was easy to pretend he didn’t care, that he was mad at you while you weren’t here in front of him.

Fuck it.

He sets his rifle down at moves to the door. He hears you sigh loudly as he locks the door, disabling the cameras at the same time. He turns back to you and you’re right in front of him.

“Coward. You can’t even admit the truth to yourself!” You shove him back a step. Something inside him snaps, as it always does when you fight him. He shoves you back against the cage and, not giving you a chance to recover, kisses you. His lips are harsh and hungry against yours as he grabs your arms, keeping you in place. He growls low in his chest as you kiss him back fiercely.

You tug against his shirt, pull it off over his head, breaking the kiss for a split second. More clothes are discarded, your hands pull at his hair and he grips your thighs, lifting you up easily. You wrap your legs around his hips as he sets you on the table, kissing down your neck. One of your hands is braced against the cold table and the other is knotted in his hair.

You breathe heavily in his ear and the sound drives him crazy. He was stupid to think he could just walk away from you. He pulls you off the table and spins you around. Your hands brace against the table, your bare ass pushing back against him.

“Such a tease.” He snarls, pushing on the back of your neck and bending you over the metal table. He gently kicks your feet apart and lines his throbbing cock up with your slit. You bend your arm behind your back, grasping for his hand. He laces his fingers with yours and slams home. The table creaks loudly and you moan, arching back off the table. Damn it, you’re still so tight and fit perfectly around him. He holds still for a moment, adjusting to your grip and giving you a chance to adjust. You squeeze his hand, ready to keep going. He pulls his hips back and snaps forward, bottoming out.

You groan, resting your cheek on the table. He picks up speed, thrusting faster and faster. Your tight, silken walls spasm around him and he groans.

Fuck, you feel so good. A perfect fit.

“Harder.” You gasp, squeezing his hand hard.

Just like him, you like the pain, need it even.

He leans forward a little, his other hand fisting in your hair and pulling your head back. Your soft moans drive him insane.

The rest of the time you’re loud and brash and crazy, but here, despite the aggression between you, in this intimate moment-you’re soft and quiet. He could spend the rest of forever trying to figure you out and it still won’t be long enough. He growls quietly, a menacing sound and you clamp down around his cock, your mouth parted, breaths fogging up the metal table.

“Bucky,” You whisper, your nails digging into the flesh of his hand.

You’re close, he can feel it as you tremble around him. He switches up his rhythm, hard and deep, fast and hard.

Your entire body locks into place, muscles tensing as your legs shake, barely supporting you. Your breathing stops and you squeeze your eyes shut. Your cunt walls feel like they’re trying to force his member out, searing pleasure racing up his spine and burning across his chest.

He slams in, hilting inside you completely, his own orgasm rocking through him. His breathing is heavy as he hovers over you. He guides your arm back around under you and you clutch his hand to your chest.

After a few minutes, you both come down enough for him to pull out of you.

“Contest is called off, right?” Bucky asks, scooping up your bra. You laugh, taking it from him.

“Afraid you’ll lose?” You tease, retrieving your various clothes.

“Definitely. You’re way more competitive.” Bucky smirks, pulling on his pants.

“We were designed to be killing machines, sometimes the only way to survive is to make a game out of it.” You lean against his chest and press a kiss to his lips. “That’s something you always had a problem with. You have such a big soul.” You sigh, pulling your shirt on.

“You have a soul, too, you know.”

“Agree to disagree.” You shrug, gesturing to the door.

He grabs his bag and rifle with a huff and unlocks the door. He walks out to the hangar, feeling annoyed at you.

How can you say you don’t have a soul? He knows you don’t believe that, but after everything you both had been through, you just found it easier to shut out your emotions, even your relationship with him never felt... true. You were just having fun with him. He was crazy about you, and you just toyed with him. He marches onto the aircraft to find Steve and Natasha chatting at the front.

“You two work it out?” Steve asks.

“We’ll be working it out when we're two hundred.” He rolls his eyes. “Are we ready?”

“Almost. Tony, Rhodey and the others will meet us on site.” Steve says as you and Sam come on board.

Bucky avoids looking at you, settling into the pilot’s seat. Natasha takes her seat next to him, getting ready. He likes Nat, there’s an easy familiarity between them, both having such strong Russian influences in their lives.

“Who’s your friend?” She asks quietly.

Bucky glances over his shoulder at you; you’re watching him with Nat, and you don’t look pleased. “An old friend. We were in Siberia together.”

“I didn’t think any of the others survived.”

“She was out of cryo at the time.” Steve approaches them and rests his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. While he and Nat had been talking, a squadron of T’Challa’s warriors had boarded along with the king himself.

“We’re ready,” Steve says. Bucky and Natasha ready for take-off.

“Wish we could fit a couple of those rhinos on here,” Natasha says with a smirk and Bucky laughs.

“Right? Where’s that shrinking guy when you need him?”

“That would have been genius!” Nat punches him in the arm as they lift into the sky.

It’s not long to the abandoned city way on the outskirts of Egypt. They park out of the way of the field, Bucky setting down gently.

“When are you gonna help me find Rogers a girlfriend?” Natasha asks him as they get out of their seats.

“I don’t think I’m the best one to help with that. People aren’t really my thing anymore.”

“I dunno, Barnes. You’re still relatively charming.” Natasha winks as she heads for the exit ramp.

Bucky rolls his eyes, following after her. He slings his rifle bag over his shoulder and is about to step down into the sand when you brush past him roughly. He watches you jog ahead, tilting his head. He catches up to you, knowing he’s going to regret this.

“You okay? It’s a good thing to be nervous. Or, so they tell me.” He starts and you don’t reply. Not even a chuckle. “Y/N,” he starts, grabbing your arm.

You shrug him off, not even looking in his direction. “I’m fine, Buck. No nerves here. Just the heartless bitch.” You say coldly, pulling ahead. He slows down, your rejection stings more than he would like to admit. But what he can’t figure out is why you’re acting like that in the first place.

Steve stops in the center of the old square, tucking away his GPS. “This is the spot.”

“How do you know?” You ask, falling next to him.

“Two of our contacts figured it out. They’re good with this stuff.” He says. “I figure you and Bucky take positions on some of these taller buildings, Clint can find wherever he’s comfortable. We’ll take the ground. When Tony shows up, we’ll coordinate with them.”

“You trust this guy?” You ask and there’s an underlying tone in your voice. Bucky feels like maybe you aren’t really asking about Tony. He still gets a knot in his stomach when Stark is mentioned.

“As much as I trust Bucky. You two work it out who wants where.” Steve says with a slight nod to his best friend. Bucky glances at the tallest building, already crumbling from the raging winds and sand and heads off for that direction, you knock shoulders with him, heading the same way.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Bucky snaps.

“Heading for my spot.” You snap back, gesturing for his building.

“That’s my position. Go pick a different one.” He pushes you away.

You stiffen and punch him in the arm. “That’s a better spot for me. You go find a different one.” You demand.

“Bucky.” Natasha comes in over the earpieces. “Look to your right.” She says and you glare at the redhead across the plaza.

“Why?” You grumble, but Bucky looks and grins.

“Oh, good eye, Romanoff.” He says, moving behind you and off towards a better position for him. “You’re right, Y/N, that one has you written all over it.” He calls, heading for the new perch. His last sight is of you crossing your arms and scowling. He breaks down the door and makes his way up the tilting, winding staircases, his mind wandering to you. You seem to be extra difficult since take off. When he left you in the armory, you were still smiling and joking, but now you’re in a mood.

He doesn’t ever know what to expect from you.

He gets his rifle set up and swivels his scope over to where you are and checks you over. You seem to have gotten settled just fine. He flashes his scope and you reply. You’re good to go and his chest loosens slightly.

“Stark’s here,” Steve says over the comms and Bucky is glad he’s already in the shadows.

“Good. Because it’s starting.” Nat replies.

Bucky aims his rifle towards the sky and the brilliant blue turns to a dark, angry purple. Lightning streaks across the sky, thunder clouds rumble, and the sky splits open, revealing a whole new sky, purple clouds, bright stars, and thousands of spaceships.

Bucky’s stomach plummets and he looks over at you. A manic grin crosses your face and you look back at him.

-.. --- -. - ..-. --- .-. --. . - -... . -

You flash your scope at him and he rolls his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about the damn bet.” He mutters.

“Holy shit.”

“Parker! Watch your mouth, don’t make me tell May.”

“Sorry, Mr. Stark.” There’s a moment of stillness as if the entire desert is holding its breath. The wind doesn’t blow, the sand doesn’t rattle against broken glass. The spaceships hover in the air for a count of thirty, Bucky counts them in his breaths. Then chaos breaks loose and Bucky doesn’t even have a moment to think. He burns through an entire box of ammo in ten minutes. You’re counting in his ear, racking up numbers, laughing so loud he can hear you across the square over the immense noise.

All of Bucky’s friends, and maybe some not friends, are taking on their own battles. There’s plenty of enemies to spare and more coming with every second.

He’s in the middle of dumping out a new box when he realizes he can’t remember when he heard your laugh last. What number had you been on? When did you stop counting out loud? He aims his scope over towards your post but he can’t see you. Your rifle is gone from the window and his heart slams to a stop in his chest.

“Y/N?” He calls on the comms. He gives you a few seconds to reply, loading his rifle again. “Y/N, sound off.” He orders, sweeping his scope over his teammates. He takes out a few stragglers, hating that he’s actually keeping a mental record. Still no answer.

He scans over your window again and sees you throw yourself out of the window, down the six stories to the sand and cobblestone below. His heart tumbles as the sparks of a pre-explosion catch his eye in the window above you. The actual explosion decimates the building and rubble falls down around everyone.

“Did you need something, Barnes?” You ask with a smirk up towards him. He rolls his eyes and continues firing.

“This isn’t gonna work. They’re just gonna keep coming unless we find a way to take them all out at once.” Tony says.

“Anyone have a nuke handy?” Steve asks sarcastically.

“Very funny,” Tony mutters.

There’s no more conversation for a minute and then Bucky hears footsteps behind him. He turns, pistol already pulled out and aimed at Natasha.

“Jesus, Nat.” He sighs, tucking it back in his holster.

“I have an idea.” She says, coming over to him.

“Oh yeah? On a scale of one to Australia, how dangerous are we talking?" He asks and she grins.

“Well, you won’t like it, but your girlfriend might.” She gestures out the window and Bucky looks down to see you staring up at them, your face eerily calm.

“Alright, let’s regroup with the others. Tell them your crazy plan.” He sighs, packing up his rifle.

“So, she is your girlfriend?” Nat presses.

“Not anymore. Let it go, I don’t wanna talk about it.” Bucky says, following her down.

“You broke up with her, right?” She guesses. Bucky slings an arm around her shoulders.

“Don’t worry about my relationship with Y/N and I’ll get everyone off your back about Banner.” He says quietly and she elbows him in the ribs.

“Fine.”

You, along with everyone else able to, gather in the square. “Okay, we’re here. What’s your big idea?” You snap, crossing your arms.

“They all seem to be centered around that big blue ship. I bet if you take that one out, the rest will fall, like bees or ants.”

“Didn’t realize you avidly studied bees.” You mutter and Bucky gives you a warning look.

“Makes sense,” Steve mutters. “As much as anything else, I suppose. Who goes in?”

“Me and Y/N,” Bucky says with a shrug.

You snap your head over to look at him, your scowl getting bigger.

“Why you two?” Tony asks accusingly.

“It’s the most logical. We can do it easily. In and out, no big deal.” He shrugs again.

“Fine. Go. How do you plan on getting up there?”

“Leave that to us. You just keep them contained.” Bucky says, turning away. He can feel Nat’s eyes on him.

“You know that’s a one-way trip.” She says quietly to him.

“Yeah but maybe not for both of us.” He mutters, glancing back at you over his shoulder.

“I’m gonna be pissed if you don’t come back. Who else is gonna play pranks on Sam with me?” She says quietly.

He chuckles. “That last one was pretty good, wasn’t it?”

“Any idea how you’re gonna get up there?” She asks. One of the hover crafts they use zooms by and Bucky suddenly has an idea.

“Steve!” He calls, jogging over and grabbing your wrist along the way. “We’re gonna need a lift.” He says, nodding his head upward. Steve studies it for a minute before readying his shield.

“You sure about this?” He asks.

“Yeah. It’ll be fun.” Bucky lies. It’s not going to be fun, but it will be worth it to keep you at least somewhat safe.

“You got it.” Steve shrugs and hefts his shield.

Bucky doesn’t give you a choice, he pulls you onto his back and you tangle yourself around him with a huff in his ear.

“Worst idea you’ve ever had.” You whisper, sending shivers down his spine.

“Really? I thought you’d like it.” He grins, taking off at a run at Steve, leaping onto the shield at the same time that Steve pushes up. You cling right around his neck as he catches onto the bottom of a hovercraft. He grits his teeth as it pulls on his metal arm, the joint straining as he holds both your weights. He finds handholds and works his way back towards the end of the craft.

“You good?” He calls over the roaring wind.

“Good. Go faster.” You reply, gripping the front of his shirt.

“Go faster.” He grumbles. “You carry two super soldiers on a flying car as it weaves around.”

“I heard that.” You dig your nails in and he hisses. He hauls you both up onto the back and you climb over him, your boots digging into his back, his shoulders, his face.

“Oh, I hate you.” He groans, heaving himself up and over.

You’ve already kicked one off and you’re in the middle of fighting off the other one. You drag it away from the steering system and Bucky lets you handle it, slipping in front of the joysticks.

“I thought I was driving!” You shout, ducking a swinging limb.

“I’m a better driver!” He shouts back.

“That’s a bald-faced lie!”

“Remember Germany? ‘77! You drove us into a lake!”

“I took a wrong turn!” You kick it over the edge and move next to him.

“I distinctly remember you laughing!” He looks at you and you grin with a shrug.

“It was fun.”

He steers towards the big spaceship, flying low, hoping to avoid any kind of radar. He glides through a small opening and landing quickly off to the side. You leap over the side, not making any effort to hide or go unnoticed.

“What way?” You ask, glancing at him. Your tone is cold. You’ve never spoken to him like that.

“Are you okay?” He asks, taking your arm.

You jerk it roughly out of his grasp, turning away from him. “I’m fine. Worry about yourself.” You snap.

“Y/N, did I do something?”

“No, you were predictably perfectly you.” You mutter, pulling out a small baton and flicking it down and out to the side. Silver metal plates link together to form a sleek, dangerous-looking Katana, your favorite weapon. It had been a gift from your previous Hydra handler, and as far as Bucky knows, you were the only Soldat to receive a gift, ever.

“I don’t understand.” He says finally. He’s leading you down a series of tunnels, looking for something to tell him the way. A door opens behind you and you shove your way inside, slamming behind you. Bucky tried to open the door, but it’s solidly locked, even his metal arm isn’t getting through. How can you be so reckless? He should be in there, having your back. That’s the whole point of being here together. Screeching noises and thuds of things hitting the walls are muffled as they come through the door and he has mental images of you slumped against the wall, one of the creatures towering over you, about to finish you off. The door hisses open and you step out, your katana and face covered in speckles of blood, guts, and gore.

“What the fuck, Y/N? You can be so reckless.”

You shove him back, your blade nicking his arm. “I don’t need your protection. I certainly didn’t ask for it. Just mind your own fucking business, Barnes. Stay out of my life!” You shout, taking off down the hallway.

His heart crumples in his chest, feeling hollow like a useless tin can, but he follows you nonetheless, doing everything he can to keep you safe as you grow more and more reckless.

You’re leading them further into the labyrinth, not heading for anything obviously useful. His stomach turns into knots, making him sick with each slice of your wicked blade.

“Y/N, stop, we have to find a way to destroy the ship.” He says finally, trying to get you to listen.

You’re beyond listening, your face a mask of rage and hatred. You clear out a room and Bucky glances inside, seeing something he can use to start a chain reaction. He darts inside and starts to quickly assemble a homemade bomb, quick and dirty. He can hear you outside, getting further down the hall and he knows he has to hurry. His heart is hammering in his chest as he messes up and has to start over.

Finally, it’s done and he rushes out to find you. He just follows the trail of bodies to find you surrounded by at least seven of the towering beasts. Even at your best, you can’t handle that many at once.

Without even thinking, he charges in, shooting the ones that he can. You cry out and he’s momentarily distracted, turning towards you to see you drop to one knee for just a moment.

“Y/N!” He shouts, and then there’s a moment.

Your eyes are on him and they widen slightly. He can’t hear any sounds at all, it’s like the volume has been turned off on the world. He’s sluggish, body reacting too slowly as he turns in front of him. A creature is there, a massive blade at the end of its arm. He can feel his body jolt on impact but there’s no pain.

He doesn’t understand. There should be pain. His eyes slide slowly down the creature’s face, torso, to its arm embedded in his body. His feet aren’t even touching the floor, dangling in the air.

He looks back up at it and suddenly, its head is gone. It crashes to its knees, jarring Bucky as his feet touch, but he still doesn’t feel any pain. And he can’t figure out what happened to its head. Then you’re there, tears streaming down your face as you cradle his head.

“Bucky,”

He can hear your voice again and he thinks it’s perfect this way. The one person he loves more than anything should be the last person he sees before he dies. The way it’s supposed to be.

“I’m so sorry.” You gasp and he tries to take your hand but he’s holding something.

The bomb.

“Engines.” He mumbles, trying to hand it to you.

“Bucky, please don’t leave me.” You cry and he smiles slightly.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you.” His eyes flutter closed, but he wants to keep them open, to see your face until the very last second. “The engines. You need... to stop it... the assault...” he forces out, his breathing is shallow now.

“I can’t leave you.” You plead and he struggles to find your hand.

“For me? A last request.” He manages a weak chuckle.

“You’re not dying. You can’t die.” You demand.

“We’ll discuss your terms after...” he trails off. “After all, you win the bet.”

“After.” You repeat, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I love you, Bucky Barnes. Don’t you dare die on me or I’ll kill you myself.”

His heart swells painfully in his chest. “You love me?” He repeats slowly. He’s waited for years for you to admit that.

“You better still be alive when I get back.” You warn and he can’t help the smile on his face.

“Yes, ma’am.” He says tiredly. He’s so tired. He feels the pressure of your hand on his, a squeeze and then you’re gone.

***

Your heart is breaking slowly in your chest, like someone tearing strips of paper just to listen to the riiiip. You had been so stupid, so careless, just wanting to die at seeing Bucky, your Bucky, flirting with that red-headed tramp. Then he has the nerve to bring you up here on this suicide mission and you could just throttle him.

You were pissed and hurt and looking for any reason to get away from him, maybe get a little injured so he would be worried about you instead. But your half-baked idea backfired big time and now Bucky is dying.

Dying.

And it’s all your fault. A sob racks through your chest as you find the engine room. You take out the creature in the back easily and set up the bomb. Damn, he’s good. He left a port to attach it to as many charges as you can find or make. You rush around, grabbing things you would need, rigging up extra explosives to all the engine blocks.

Finally done, you run back over to the original one and look at how to set it up. Thankfully, he had installed a timer.

Unfortunately, he had set it for five minutes.

It had taken you ten just to get here.

“Oh, I could just kill you for getting hurt.” You mutter. You have no choice but to set the timer. Before the first second even ticks off, you’re bolting back to the hallway where you left Bucky. Your muscles are burning as you push them faster than you’ve ever had to before.

You might be super, but it’s still painful. You round the corner and see Bucky still there and you sigh with relief. You slid next to him and take his hand.

“Bucky?” You gasp. Your chest is painfully tight as you struggle to catch your breath. He doesn’t answer you and you freeze. None of your training prepared you for this. You weren’t ever designed to feel this way. You tentatively reach and hand out, checking for a pulse. Your hand is trembling and you force yourself to stay calm. Panicking won’t do him any good.

You feel a pulse, it’s weak, but it’s there. You only have a minute to get him away.

“Bucky? Can you help at all?” You ask, standing back up and tugging on his arm. He doesn’t respond and your heart sinks. You’re never gonna make it. It’s too far, he’s too heavy, you’re too tired.

You could just stay here with him, let this be the end. He’s almost there, you know you can’t do this in this world without him. Just let there be peace for you two at last.

But what about Steve? His best friend that went through hell and back several times to save Bucky? Could you really do that to Steve? Bucky’s still alive, and so are you. So you’re going to live. You heave on his arm and support his as best you can.

Shit, he weighs a ton. It never feels like this much when he’s on top of you. You’ve nearly made it back to your stolen ship when you feel something sharp in your side. You stumble, losing your grip on him as pain blooms up your side. You look down to see a slit. It matches Bucky’s but smaller. You glance behind you as your knees give out just in time. A blade whistles over your head as a creature stands over you.

You don’t have time for this. You pull out your handgun and shoot, aiming for what looks like the face. It goes down and doesn’t move. With a groan you get back to your feet, pulling Bucky with you. Just a little further. A little longer and Steve can save him.

Steve always saves him.

You shove Bucky over the side of the stolen craft, letting him sprawl on the floor. You can feel the explosions vibrating through the ship, ripping metal apart.

You pull yourself up and struggle to turn the hover around. How had he made this look so easy? You bump into another craft, a wall, some columns, and a dozen creatures before making your way out of the exit. You don’t have time to think, you’re running on pure adrenaline. You know as soon as you stop, you’re gonna crash. The analytical side of your brain knows you’re losing too much blood, but your body just keeps pumping it.

The shockwaves from the explosions shake your hover as you rocket back to the desert, the rip in space closing fast.

Looks like the redhead was right, this was the mother ship. It doesn’t make you like her any more.

You try not to crash the craft, but it’s like steering a refrigerator. One explosion of sand later, you’re flying through the air, tumbling into the earth.

“Son of a bitch.” You hear Steve mutter, heading for you. You can’t see him with all the sand in your eyes, but you point in the direction you think the craft is in.

“Get Bucky.” You say, knowing he’ll hear you. You carefully brush the sand out of your eyes and eyelashes, before trudging yourself to your feet.

“What happened to him?” Steve snaps as he and a guy with wings struggle to lift him out.

“It’s my fault, I went ahead, he tried to save me.” You stammer. You know Steve deserves the full story, but you’re so tired.

“He didn’t want you here,” Steve mutters as they carry him onto the ship. The redhead is there, helping. “I should have listened to him. I should never have forced him to work with you.” He says harshly, pushing you out of the way of the platform.

His words are like a knife in your chest. You know he’s right, Bucky hadn’t wanted you around, but you were so selfish and so one-track-minded that you didn’t care about what he wanted.

“I’m sorry, Steve.” You say quietly.

“You’re damn right you are.” He snaps. “Nat, take us home.” He says to the redhead. The platform door closes in front of your face and someone pulls you back gently out of the way as it takes off.

“He will forgive, as soon as Barnes is okay.” A man says in your ear. His accent is African, the King of Wakanda.

“Maybe I don’t deserve to be forgiven.” You mumble. “He should save it for someone with a soul.” You traipse back through the sand to retrieve Bucky’s rifle, ducking inside the building he had used for cover.

If you close your eyes and pretend really hard, you can almost catch whiffs of his cologne. You know it’s not real, you know it’s all in your head, but it makes you feel better.

Just like it had on those nights when Hydra fought so hard to break you. When you could hear his screams five floors down and couldn’t do a thing to help. Just like when you’d see him after a mission and he wouldn’t recognize you, the Soldat firmly back in place. You sink against the wall, sliding to the floor as tears slide down your face. You close your eyes, pressing his rifle against your face.

Soldat, your Bucky, the man who got you through sixty years of a never-ending nightmare, and this is all you’ll ever have left of him. And so you cry. You cry in the privacy of the abandoned building. No one comes looking for you, you’re not even sure they saw where you went. Your heart shatters like broken glass as you realize Steve won’t ever trust you now, won’t ever let you near them.

You’d be better off just letting it end here. Bucky knows how you feel, that’s enough. You need to let him move on with someone who isn’t crazy. As long as it isn’t the redhead.

Anyone but her.

Your legs slide out and you can feel your pulse slow as your adrenaline runs out of gas. You close your eyes, finally able to see peace at the end of a very dark, very long tunnel.

Okoye

“How long are we going to let her mope?” She asks T’Challa.

“She just needs some privacy.” He pulls another alien carcass to the pyre.

“She’s been in there for twenty minutes, while we work!”

“Some emotions take longer to work through, especially if they are unfamiliar.” He raises an eyebrow. “While we work? Okoye.” He tsks.

“I am keeping my King safe.” Okoye grins.

“If you are so worried, go get her,” T’Challa says, waving her away.

Okoye scoffs and heads over to the building. She knocks respectfully as she pokes her head in, but you don’t look up.

In fact, you don’t even move. Okoye’s pulse stutters as she realizes something is very wrong. She nudges you with her foot and that’s when she notices all the blood pooling under you. She curses silently to herself.

“My King!” She shouts, kneeling down and checking for your pulse. It’s so weak she can barely feel it. T’Challa runs over, his brown eyes going wide.

“She’s not-“

“Not yet, but soon.”

“We need to get her back to Wakanda.” He says.

“I’ll take her,” Stark says. How he appeared behind them unnoticed will forever remain a mystery to Okoye.

“You can carry her?” Okoye asks doubtfully.

“Should be no problem.” He scoops you up, Bucky’s rifle slipping out of your fingers.

“Just a moment,” T’Challa says, removing two beads from his bracelet and pressing them into your wounds. “That will stabilize her for the flight.”

Tony backs out of the doorway and takes off into the sky. Okoye looks at her king with a frown. “Why wouldn’t she say something?” She asks.

“Maybe she didn’t know?” He shrugs and walks back to continue cleaning up.

Bucky

He slowly becomes aware of noises around him before his eyes open. He doesn’t want to open them at all. He was having the best dream he’s ever had and who would want to wake up from that? You had been over him, your hands so soft and gentle on his face. He was prepared to say goodbye, to let you move on as he floated somewhere, but then you told him you loved him and he didn’t want to leave.

He wanted to stay in this dream forever, here with you.

“Are you gonna tell him?” He hears hushed whispers somewhere far away.

“Are you kidding? He’d kill me. It would break him.” Comes the reply. It takes him a long time to realize that he knows those voices.

Sam has spoken first, then Steve.

“He loved her and now she’s... she’s just gone. How am I gonna break that news to him?” Steve says.

Gone?

Are they talking about you? Steve’s tone sounds so final.

No.

No!

You can’t be dead.

His chest hurts. He can’t breathe. His eyes fly open as he grabs his chest, feeling like his muscles are seizing up.

Heart attack.

Good, if you’re dead he doesn’t want to be here anymore. It was supposed to be him that didn’t survive, not you. You deserved a chance.

“Shit, he’s awake.” Steve curses and there’s a commotion. “Bucky! Breathe.”

He gasps in air, but his chest feels like it’s caving in. Steve grasps his hand, squeezing it just like you had, but for a different reason.

“Buck, come on, man.”

“Y/N-“ Bucky chokes.

“She left, she’s gone,” Steve says.

“Alive?”

“Very much so.” Steve sighs. “I’m sorry, Buck. I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

Bucky feels his chest ease, but only slightly. He still needs to see you, to feel you in his arms. He finally looks around him, realizing he’s in a hospital wing. “How did I get here?” He closes his eyes, the memories flooding back. “She did it. She set off the bomb.”

“Yeah. She did it, and got you both home.” Steve grumbles.

“Where is she? I wanna see her”

“She left, two days ago. As soon as she found out you were gonna be okay, and after she healed.”

“Healed? She was injured?” Bucky sits up straight, ignoring the dull throb in his midsection.

“Easy, she’s fine now.”

“Steve, please? You told me to work it out. I have.”

Steve is silent for a few minutes, eyes closed, head hanging while he did some deep breathing. “Okay, where would she go?”

“How long before we can leave?”

“You need at least two days before you can get the all-clear. I won’t allow less than that. You were nearly cut in half.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “I fell down a mountain. I’m pretty sure we can survive anything.”

Sam gives a low chuckle. “I see why you two are friends now. I get it.” He grins. “Makes perfect sense.”

“Anything I can get you in the meantime?”

“Morse transmitter. An old one.” Bucky says instantly. He has a sickening feeling as to where you’d go and he wants to get you out of there as quick as possible.

It takes Steve forever to find the transmitter and even longer for Bucky to set it up. “Where did you find this dinosaur?” Bucky asks, climbing carefully out of bed despite Steve’s protests.

“I’m not telling. You’ll just laugh at me. Just do what you have to do. We’ll leave tomorrow afternoon.” Steve leaves him to it, giving him privacy. He finds the right dial, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Y/N, I know you’re there.” He taps out. He gives it a moment for you to reply, but he gets nothing but silence back. “Come on, answer me.” He grumbles, rubbing his forehead.

“Fine. Don’t answer. You won’t like the consequences.” He sends, pushing the machine away. His heart is sinking but he knows he can find you.

***

“Shit. It’s fucking cold.” Steve’s teeth are chattering.

“You get used to it,” Bucky says darkly. He jumps down from the snow tank, his landing making little puffs of snow.

“You’re sure she’s here? She never answered.” Steve says. His nose and cheeks are red from the bitter cold, but to Bucky, it’s painfully familiar.

The way the wind bites into his skin, the cold leeches the heat from his joints and his metal arm aches where steel meets flesh. But the cold fresh air feels good, giving him some clarity. He’s been worried sick about you, about what he’d find when he finally makes it home to Siberia. Would you have healed from your injury? Or did you bleed out on the cold abandoned floors of your nightmare?

He forces himself to be smart, you would have booby-trapped the place to ensure you remained alone. He eases the heavy metal door open, catching the tripwire you have just inside. He disables it and moves on. Steve smartly stays behind him, letting the person who knows you best deal with it.

Twenty minutes later, he’s disabled at least fifteen intricately designed traps and saved Steve at least twice.

“Where are we going?” Steve whispers and it sounds so loud in the silence.

“Officer’s quarters. Always the nicest. No speaking from here on out. And watch where you put your feet.”

Moving forward is slow when he has to stop and disable traps every five feet. Finally, he disables the last one outside the biggest room. He can hear water running inside, you’re in the private showers. He vividly remembers the man who lived here. He always paid special attention to you and even back then it would make Bucky sick to see anyone touching you that way. And the fact that you chose this room over all the others pisses him off.

He motions for Steve to stay outside as he picks the lock. He moves silently across the room, he can see the steam billowing from under the door. He eases the door open, the heat washes over him, filled with your scent and his blood boils.

You have your back to him, clearly, you haven’t gotten in yet. Your pants are still on, you’ve pulled off your shirt and are examining your wound. The scar is ugly, jagged and red.

“Ow, fuck.” You hiss as he props his shoulder against the door frame. He watches you for a minute, relieved that you’re alive and okay. But then he’s pissed that you left.

“I’m hurt that you didn’t even wait for me to wake up before you left.” He says and you visibly jump, falling into the sink as you whirl around, covering your bare chest.

“Bucky!” You shout, slamming your hands down against your thighs.

“Really offended.” He repeats, his eyes trailing over you. “Especially now that I know you’re okay.”

“Yeah, well. Your best friend made it pretty clear I wasn’t welcome.” You shrug, rubbing your arm.

“He was just pissed. He’s over that now. Come here.” He holds out his hand for you. You, however, don’t step closer.

“He was right, Bucky. I’ve messed up everything for you. I almost got you killed. He was right to be mad.” You say quietly. “I bet he wasn’t even very happy that you came here to get me. Or did you sneak out?”

“He’s outside, actually. Now, get over here.” He demands, pushing himself off the frame.

“Bucky,” You sigh.

He grabs your wrist and pulls you gently against him. “So, while we were on the spaceship, I told you I loved you. And I think I fell asleep because in my dream you said it back and I just have to ask,”

“I love you, you beautiful idiot. Shut up and kiss me.” You grumble and he grins, his heart feeling lighter than it has in 75 years.

He wraps his arms around you and picks you up, kissing you deeply. He will never get over the feel of your lips on his. He knows now he was stupid to ever think he could just walk away from you.

He will never make that mistake again.

“Marry me.” He whispers, breaking away and pressing his forehead against yours.

“You’re crazy.”

“No. You were right. We make sense, we’re perfect together, meant to be. I won’t lose you again. I love you, I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you. Marry me.”

“Finally.” You kiss him back and he grins against your mouth.

“Is it safe to come in?” Steve calls from the hallway and Bucky laughs.

“Yeah. You’re good, Steve.” He pokes his head in the door and smiles tentatively.

“Hi, Y/N.” He says.

“Hey, Steve.”

“So, what’s the word? Staying here? Going home?” He asks, rubbing his hands together. Bucky looks down at you and you smile back up at him.

“Let’s go home.” You say softly.

Tags:@everythingisoverrated @dsakita @shreddedparchment @bitsandbobsandstuff @after-avenging-hours @alexblrus @thinkingsofamadwoman @i-dont-want-to-be-called @thefridgeismybestie @fortheloveofallthatsholy @crazychaotic @pleasureoftheguiltiestvariety @redstarstan @septic-boye @justreadingfics @themistsofmyavalon @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @wkemeup @thiccbinch @glide-thru @moli1497 @ellaenchanted91 @part-time-patronus @janeyboo @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @thirstybitchqueen @xxloki81xx @uncledaddykelbo

Trending Tags

Last Seen Tags

#crazyinlove

Trending Tags

Last Seen Tags

#crazyinlove