#BBwhereyouleftme

[testingthewatersss]

Where you left me Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, flashbacks etc. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Chapter 3 5570 words fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI

Bucky comes home

Once she’s alone, she really focuses in on her task.

It’s a little after 7pm when Bucky is finally on his way back to his suite. It had taken an extra 2 hours after the meeting had officially ended for him to shake Steve, and Sam, and their overly excited chattering, he’d nodded along for the most part, but had drawn the line at grabbing Y/N and heading to a bar for the night.

He’s tired. He’s more than tired. The nap he’d taken earlier has only worsened how badly his body needs to rest, and although he’d barely managed to force down the sandwhich and protein shake Steve had presented him with for lunch, he had, in fact, forced it down, not that it had done anything to ease the aching in his head.

The pressure behind his eyes is distracting, it’s throbbing, he’s squinting, even though the hall way lights are dimmed in the evenings.

He nearly trips over a cardboard box. That startles him. He mutters a curse and looks around.

Oh, god.

There are at least 7 half collapsed containers.

Despite himself, he panics. The route to his room is normally pristine, he doesn’t like the change, he can’t help but worry that something’s wrong, that maybe Y/N has left- that maybe someone came in and took her-

His door opens without any resistance when he touches it and then his heart stops.

He blinks jaw slack, frozen in position.

There has to be a mistake.

This, isn’t his room. This, is beautiful.

There’s a woven, intricate, piece of art is hanging over the bed, which is now made with plush, cream sheets- There’s a deep navy throw over the edge of it, it’s glowing in the light from the row of candles which are placed across his dresser, which now holds a few trinkets he recognises from Y/N’s apartment.

It smells like baking, like cinnamon and vanilla and home.

He takes a tentative step inside, terrified that he might do something wrong, that he might breathe too heavily and cause everything to melt away.

“Hey, handsome” a familiar voice coos, making his head snap to the right, away from his newly decorate bed- to her, “Long day?”

She’s wearing a soft cotton top, and shorts, her hair is damp and curly, face fresh and smiling.

Bucky Barnes has never felt luckier.

He opens his mouth to reply, but then he sees the rest of the room illuminated behind her silhouette.

His couch is in the same place, but now, instead of glaring white, the carpet beneath it is covered in a huge, pile rug- it’s coloured with areas of soft orange, deep turquoise and pastel pinks that have been woven in to look they paint strokes.

The glass coffee table is gone, replaced by a low, pine surface that looks old.

There’s art on the walls, there’s a framed picture of them both nestled amongst the budding collection of charcoal sketches.

Suddenly, he sees something that makes him tilt his head, a disbelieving chuckle escaping his lips, despite how exhausted and pained he’s been feeling all day.

Next to the edge of the couch, there’s a huge wicker basket; and it’s full, of thick, soft-looking quilts.

They’re different colours and fabrics, he can see the textures shifting in the folds that are escaping the edges of the containers.

“W-what’s that?” he asks, voice totally awed

Y/N follows his train of site, concerned that her plan has back-fired, that he hates the changes she’s made, that she’s offended him and over-stepped.

“This?” she asks, pointing towards the blankets

He nods, silent.

“It’s a basket full of blankets” she tells him, a little uncertainly

He gasps again, before looking at her with an expression so sweet that she can’t help but smile at him.

“Why?” he whispers, not understanding what he could have possibly done to deserve any of this.

“Because” Y/N replies softly, “Nobody is ever going to be cold in here”

Bucky feels his heart swell impossibly in his chest. He’s so overwhelmed that he barely hears the mechanical grind of his arm as it falls lamely by his side.

“Jesus christ, Y/N/N”

“Do you like it?” she asks at last, feeling a little nervous again, “I know it’s a lot, I can always-”

“Do I like it?” he echos, staring at her, now, instead of his new home, “Doll, I’ve- I’ve never seen anythin’ like it- I- I don’t know what I did to deserve this- to, to deserve you- I-”

Her lips are against his before he can finish speaking.

His hands find her waist- he tugs her in to his front, frantically trying to prolong the affection, to show her how much he adores her, how infinitely important she is to him

“Bucky” she purrs, finally breaking away for long enough to nuzzle into his cheek, “You really like it?”

“I love it” he tells her, turning to look around again;

Every time he blinks he notices something new, a new detail, a new object that has appeared during his absence.

“How did you do all this?” he asks when he spins to take in the kitchenette, and it’s new array of appliances, “Y/N/N, it’s been less than 6 hours”

She laughs lightly, padding over to the counters, opening the drawers to show him his new plates, they’re cream, and un-polished, rimmed with gold paint.

Their are matching bowls, and mugs, as well.

And, as Y/N tells him happily, he is now the proud owner of a proper espresso machine.

“I kept the jar of… uh, instant stuff you had, it’s up there” she nods to one of the higher cupboards, “and, I’m afraid the food isn’t arrivin’ until tomorrow, so the fridge is still a pickle only zone”

“The food?” he echos, wide-eyed

Y/N scoffs gently, arm reaching out to stroke his vibranium fingers, where they’re poised against the dark marble unit-

“Yeah, sweetheart, I ordered some groceries for us, but I didn’t think you’d mind a take out tonight?” she pauses, watching him blinking at her with an expression she still can’t quite classify, “I’ll cook for us tomorrow-”

“You don’t have to do that” he tells her, suddenly bursting with the need to let her know that he’s grateful, “This is so much, doll- it’s-you’ve- you’ve already done so much for me- I-”

“Hey” she coos, seeing how he’s quickly becoming flustered, “I know I don’t have to, I know you’re not asking, Buck- don’t worry”

He nods and starts playing with her fingers as she tickles them over his smooth metal palm.

“I… I’m just grateful, Y/N/N” he whispers, feeling the need to divert his gaze, again, “so grateful”

His eyes float over to the corner furthest from the window, to the spot on the floor to wear he’d confessed to sleeping earlier. There’s a huge pillow there now, it’s velvet and plush, and the softest shade of violet.

“Oh, sweetheart” she sighs, really seeing the sudden onset of emotion on his face, “It’s alright, come here”

As soon as her arms open in invitation, he moves into her embrace, he buries his face in her neck and takes what feels awfully like his first proper breath since that morning.

“How was the briefing?” she asks, not even attempting to move away from the hug now that his hands have slipped into her back pockets,

“Long” he mumbles, “Stevie’s over the moon, doll- so is Nat- they- they can’t wait to see ya properly, they wanted to take us out tonight, to, to celebrate-”

“They’ll just have to be patient” she chuckles quietly, kissing his hair, “We’ve got plans tonight”

“We do?” he asks, unsure, still hiding against her front, “What’re we doin?”

He doesn’t want to go out, or do anything other than this. He would, if she were to ask, but he really doesn’t want to have to be around loud noises, or crowds or-

“We’re staying in, orderin’ a pizza, and gettin’ an early night.”

Bucky is so relieved that he can’t help but laugh as he finally draws back a fraction, staring earnestly into her eyes.

“That sounds perfect” he says shakily, “I… I can’t think of anythin’ I’d rather do”

Y/N beams at his response, making him flush pink.

“Why don’t you get changed, sweetheart” she suggests kindly, seeing the tension in his brow, “is your head still botherin’ you?

He’s half way towards his dresser when he hears her,

“I…” he murmurs with a short nod, “I had lunch”

“Maybe you just need to get some proper rest” she says softly, sitting down on a stool by his newly renovated ‘breakfast bar’

“Maybe” he agrees absentmindedly, listening to her ask FRIDAY to place a ridiculously large order from their favourite pizza place.

He opens his draw and finds himself once again awestruck.

The old clothes he’s had since he’d first arrived at the tower are still there, but there are newer additions as well. He’d never gotten round to buying himself anything, he’d taken what he’d been given and been grateful. Steve had gifted him the leather jacket he wears for his birthday, and his combat gear had been updated by SHEILD, but the civilian items he had, were sparse and generic.

Metal fingers furl in the soft wool jumper that’s at the top of the newest pile of tops. It’s a deep teal, it’s so smooth that the sensors in his hand barely prickle at the contact.

He flips through the collection and sees at least 10 sweaters, all different colours, all ridiculously thick and comfortable looking.

“I guessed the sizes” Y/N admits from behind his shoulder, “but I figured you could do with some more layers”

“You shouldn’t have, doll” he murmurs, turning too face her, “you’re spoilin’ me-”

“That’s my job” she whispers, pecking at his cheek, “Plus, you’re always buyin’ me things, ‘bout time I evened it up a little”

He scoffs shyly, averting his eyes back towards the dresser.

“Thank you” he murmurs, too overwhelmed to counter her again.

Y/N takes that as a victory, she gives his arm a gentle stroke from behind, before heading back to the couch, where she curls up under one of their new selection of blankets, with the TV on a low volume, and a cup of real coffee on a coaster within reach.

Bucky dresses slowly, every movement making his eyes narrow with added discomfort.

He wears boxer shorts and one his new, thick, sweaters.

It’s endearing, the way he’s fussing with the hem, like he can’t believe it’s real, that it’s his, and nobody is going to take it from him.

Comfort, is a luxury. It’s something he never takes for granted.

For a long time, it hadn’t been something worth even dreaming about- not that he got to dream often- but now, it’s something he’s surrounded by, even if he chooses to avoid to most of the time.

It’s not always a deliberate act of self-punishment, although, sometimes, that’s exactly what it is. Mostly, it’s because it feels wrong, it feels dangerous, like a trap he’s been caught in before.

But with Y/N, beckoning him over, draped in soft fabric, and offering a warm, non-violent embrace, he can’t bring himself to care.

There isn’t any price, no matter how terrible, that he wouldn’t pay to be allowed to stay exactly where he is.

“I don’t deserve you, doll”

Y/N blinks up as he pads up to where she’s waiting,

“Of course you do, Buck- You deserve the world”

There’s a smile on her face that nearly makes him cry. He’s so grateful that he can hardly bare it.

He slips in on her flank, flesh arm wrapping around her shoulder, so she can rest her head on his chest;

She kicks the blanket she’s using over his body, covering his legs with the warm, knitted material and rubbing her shins against his.

Bucky feels his head loll back at the contact, and it’s only then that he realises all the pillows he’s surrounded by.

There are several, small cushions decorating the previously barren couch. They are varying shades of pastel pinks, and blues, and the two behind his neck feel so soft he finds himself wondering where she managed to find all these so quickly.

“I ordered it all this mornin’” Y/N tells him calmly, eyes rolling up to look at his face, “Whilst you were napping”

He squints, nuzzling the top of her head again, tucking her even closer to his side,

“How’d it get here so quickly?” is the only question he can think to ask,

“Money” she replies easily, looking back towards the TV, “and I pulled the Stark card, people make things’ happen if they think Tony’s involved.”

Bucky hums at that, still totally uncomfortable mentioning the man by name. It feels like more familiarity than he deserves, even though the billionaire has long adjusted to his presence, and is rarely anything other than civil.

“Has he been by to see ya’ yet?” he asks, knowing how important his friendship is to the woman he loves, “I bet he’s happy you’ll be close by for a while”

“He came by just as you left” she tells him, “We got lunch before he had to run back to the lab”

He smiles, happy that she’s had company, that she hasn’t been alone all day. Despite everything, he likes Stark, he respects him, and is genuinely grateful for the way he’s become so tolerant to his presence, and for the way he’s always keeping an eye out for Y/N, it makes him feel better knowing that he’s her friend, even though he suspects he’s more like a brother, with how long they’ve known each other, and everything they’ve been through.

“He helped me get all this sorted” she tells him softly, already anticipating the guilt her admission is going to breed, “He insisted, before you say anythin’- I told him not to, but he wasn’t havin’ any of it.”

To her surprise, Bucky just scoffs, before humming gently against her hair.

He’s too exhausted to do anything about the feeling of unworthiness that’s heavy in his gut. It’s been a fixture of his being for so long that it barely seems to matter anymore, even when it stirs to life, sending sparks of shame up to his chest, making him blush red and embarrassed at the idea of a man who’s parents he murdered, not only taking him in, but now helping shift furniture for his benefit.

It’s pathetic, really, laughable, that after everything, an act as small as this still provokes a reaction.

‘Sergeant Barnes, sorry to interrupt, but your food is outside- Ms Romanoff has offered to bring it to you-’

“I’ll go, FRIDAY, tell Nat not to bother” Y/N replies cheerily, ignoring Bucky’s offer to go instead.

He looks drained, he looks like the journey downstairs and back up might be a little too far, especially if the others are buzzing around.

Her suspicions are confirmed when he doesn’t fight her, when he lets her go without objecting or insisting on joining her.

It doesn’t take long, she does make a quick detour to the common room, where she presses a box of fries into Tony’s lap, pecking his hair and waving cheerily at the others before saying goodnight and bringing the rest of the food she’s carrying back to her new room.

Bucky’s waiting for her, almost exactly where she’d left him. His eyes are wide, hair a mess, and he’s drowning in gentle layers of fabric.

She grins at the sight, putting the pizza boxes and soda cans down on the coffee table, before curling up beside him, again.

They laugh at the dumb sit-com that’s running on the TV. They joke about the characters, and how they don’t act like anyone in the real world ever would.

They eat, Y/N teases Bucky about the smear of sauce that’s clinging to the corner of his mouth. She uses her thumb to wipe it away, and he kisses her knuckles, more affectionate than usual, which is saying a lot, considering he boarders on touch-starved at the best of times.

He’s delicate, it’s glaringly obvious, despite his attempts at hiding it behind surly, sarcastic commentary, and playful pecks at her cheek.

When she chuckles he’s fighting the urge to flinch, and he’s clinging to her fingers whenever she’s not using them to eat, and when he finishes his own pizza, she catches him looking at her, with wide, hopeful eyes.

She offers him what’s left of the one she’s been picking at, but he refuses with an expression that’s almost distressed, and she realises that he’s yearning for approval as opposed to any more food.

He’s trying.

“How’s your head?” Y/N coos, as he wonders back over to the couch, after having disposed of the empty cartons,

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, pressing against his skull to try and relieve some of the pressure that seems to only be increasing inside.

“Not great?” she guesses, voice deliberately tempered, as he crawls back into place beside her, “Let me see”

He looks at her curiously as she cups his cheeks in her hands.

His own palms fall away, back to the hem of his new jumper, he tugs at the material, watching at her openly as she starts to stroke his temples, nails barely grazing his hair line.

“Watcha’ doin, doll?” he asks, voice small and shy, “It feels good, it, it’s lovely-”

“Shhhh” Y/N hushes him gently, shifting one of her hands over, so she can run her thumb across his brow, “You’re really tense, sweetheart, try and relax a little”

“I’m… I’m sorry” he murmurs, letting out a frustrated breath as he tries to make his shoulders sag, “I’m not doin’ it on purpose”

“I know” Y/N soothes with a patient smile, “Don’t be sorry, Buck, it’s been a long few days”

It’s been a long few decades, he thinks sadly, letting his eyes flutter shut for a moment.

She lightens her touch, caressing his cheeks, stroking the hollows under his eyes before tickling a line up across his jaw, to card back his hair. He keens into her fingers, almost purring in delight as she uses her knuckles to scratch at his head.

“Oh, god” he shivers, “Oh, god, Y/N/N”

It’s blissful, he can’t remember the last time someone just… touched him like this, just, gently, with no ulterior motive, without him having to earn it some how, or having to fear the consequences.

He supposes it will have been with Y/N, she indulges him often, she holds his hands, like they haven’t killed men double her size, she strokes his back when he can’t sleep, she kisses him, and lets him kiss her.

Still, almost a hundred years of solitary confinement, bar the occasional torture break, has left him desperately hungry for physical contact.

Skin on skin something he’ll never take for granted again.

There was a time, not so long ago, that he would have died (happily) or (not so happily) killed just for a moment of it.

Just for the most innocent, fleeting, brush of someone else’s skin against his own.

Hell, he’d have done just as much to have been allowed to feel his own hands against his body, and this, this is so much more than that.

His lower lip is trembelling, his eyes still wide and trained in on Y/N’s face. She can’t help but let one of her palms float down, to cup his jaw with her thumb sweeping across the pouting skin of his mouth.

“Hey” she purrs, “You doin’ okay?”

Finally, Bucky nods, tentative- afraid of discouraging the way she’s being so overt in her affection.

“Tired” he admits, voice cracking, “I- I’m tired”

Y/N hums in agreement, continuing to stroke his hair back,

“Where do you wanna settle?” she asks softly, “We can stay here… We can go to the bed… we can do whatever you want, handsome”

The bed looks inviting, but, he really, really doesn’t want to move.

“Can, can we stay here?” he asks, shyer than he’s been in a long time, “Please”

She beams at him, shifting a little so his head is settled in the dip of her lap, so one of her hands can loop across his chest, whilst the other stays against his brow.

He clutches the hand he can reach in his own, bringing it under the covers, so that he can play with her fingers.

“I- I- I- might” he gulps, “I- uh”

Her brows raise when he falls silent, letting out a frustrated breath and tensing his upper body involuntarily.

“I have nightmares”

That’s not new information. Y/N has spent enough nights with him to know about the terrors that plague him. She’s spent enough mornings trying to coax him out of his own head, to know, how violent his dreams can be.

She doesn’t remind him of that, though. She just nods considerately, before squeezing his palm.

“I’m stayin’ right here” he hears her promise, “nothin” she continues, “nobody, is goin’ to hurt you.”

The plates in his metal arm groan as he flexes his hand, bringing that one up to cup the one of hers that he’s already clutching to his chest.

“I.. I just, I should warn ya’-” he mumbles, “I- I’m worse, here- I-I-”

“You, are fine, sweetheart” she cuts in, “No matter what happens, okay? You’re goin’ to be just fine.”

“As long as I’ve got you” he murmurs, feeling her nails on his scalp again, “I- I don’t want to scare you off, Y/N/N- that's all”

Y/N lets out a laugh that’s almost silent, shaking her head as he looks up at her face.

“You’ve got me” she tells him, “I’m right here, I’m staying, right here, Bucky, I love you.”

He believes her. Despite the way he hates himself, despite the way that he can’t bring himself to consider that he might be worthy of Y/N’s affection, he believes that it’s genuine, and that if she really sees something in him that’s good, then maybe, just maybe, he’s on the right track after all.

“God, doll,” he whispers slowly, “I trust you- I, I really, I really trust you and, I- I know I tell ya’ often, but it- it still doesn’t seem like enough, I- I adore ya’…”

His words are so honest, so laced with heartfelt sincerity that Y/N feels herself blushing a little at his love-sick expression.

“Y’know-” she soothes, brushing a stray curl back away from his eyes, “-I think you might be the most beautiful man in the world”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes with a tightlipped smile that looks awfully boyish, even with the layer of thin stubble clinging to his jaw.

“and, for what it’s worth” he hears her drawl, “I adore ya’, too”

There’s a lilt of humour in her tone, but it’s gentle, it’s fond as opposed to mocking, and even though his cheeks once again fill with colour, he can’t help but think that it’s due to the way she’s still showering him in gentle touches instead of anything more humiliating.

A few seconds of quiet pass, Y/N could’ve been tricked into thinking that he’d fallen asleep, if he hadn’t flinched in place at a sudden burst of noise from the television that has been running all this time; the laugh track is glaring, she quiets it instantly, regretting the way the remote control is just far enough away for Bucky’s head to shift as she reaches for it.

“Sorry, handsome” she murmurs, sinking back into position with a sympathetic sigh, “Come on, get comfy, you’re alright.”

The nape of Bucky’s neck is aching now, too-

He shuts his eyes, rolling onto his side, so his cheek is nestled against into her thighs.

Y/N reaches down, stroking his arm as she pulls the blanket up higher towards his chest.

“Please, doll, don’t- don’t leave me here if I pass out”

Her heart cracks, she shakes her head, feeling his fingers tightening around her own, again.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere without you.”

He seems to like that, his shoulders unfurl a fraction, even though the tension he’s holding in his back pull them back together after a single, forced inhale.

Y/N lets her free hand trail down across his jaw, she rubs her thumb in a careful circle over his temple, seeing the way the muscle that’s visible seems to relax a little under the attention;

“Good?” she whispers, her own head finding a pillow, so she can settle too-

“So good” he murmurs, hoping that she’s not thinking about stopping.

“Good” she says decisively.

Now that she’s certain that she’s not adding to his discomfort, she readies herself to continue the rhythmic tracing of his face until he’s deep enough asleep to stay that way without it.

He grumbles a little, whispering complaints about the show that’s still running in the background, but refusing her offer of shutting it off. All in all, she’s pleasantly surprised with how easily he drifts off on her lap.

She stays awake for a few hours, watching television half-heartedly, and stroking his cheeks. Occasionally, she catches herself soothing the unconscious man with murmured terms of endearment; He seems to like it, even though she doubts he can actually hear her, with the way he’s snoring.

That makes her smile, him being deep enough asleep to snore.

Before long, Y/N is past out too, with one hand still clutching his under the covers, the other laced through his thick mess of hair.

He stirs a few times during the night, shifting a little to mewl in place against her front, body tensing and shaking until she reacts, until her fingers grazing his temples as she hushes out a calming breath to quiet him.

“Baby” she whispers, when she hears him whining into her chest, “Baby it’s alright”

Despite the fact that it’s late, that he’s been passed out for hours, by now, Bucky seems to hear her.

His shoulders unfurl, and as she blinks at him, ignoring the sleep clouding her vision, she’s almost certain that she catches him smiling.

“That’s it” she praises, unable to hold back, “sweetheart”

Her thumb grazes his cheek, drawing a shaky breath from his lungs.

“Y/N” the sleeping figure sighs, nuzzling into her collar-bone, “is…is everything alright?”

Bucky’s eyelids flicker as he teeters on the verge of waking fully, his voice is so quiet that Y/N has to strain to hear him;

“Yeah, baby” she’s quick to reply, “everythings’ alright, you’re restin’, you’re doin’ real good”

She shuffles, feeling the weight of him adjust too, his head staying firmly against her chest.

“l-love you” he murmurs, one of his hands releasing the one of hers that he’s been clinging too all night, so that it can float up to the hem of her shirt, where it tangles in the fabric, “can, can I keep this sweater?”

That exhaustion ridden question pulls a quiet, genuine laugh from her chest. She nods, kissing his hair and guiding his cheek up so that she can plant a kiss against the stubble.

He swoons at the tenderness of the gesture, he’s desperately grateful to be awake enough to feel the warm tickle of her lips against his face.

“Of course you can” she soothes, “You can keep everything, it’s yours, it’s for you”

It’s his.

The smile he dons is drowsy, his eyes are still shut, he’s still, mostly asleep, but he’s aware enough to keen out towards her voice, towards the gentle embrace she’s shrouding him in.

And just like that, he’s silent again.

Y/N follows suit, slipping back down into unconsciousness almost instantly.

Another few hours pass, the world outside spins from dusky grey to deep, starless black, and everything is peaceful, until Bucky next whimpers.

This time, the noise is strangled, it’s loud enough to rouse Y/N almost instantly, her eyes training in on him, and his parted lips as the source of the disturbance.

His body is shaking, the heavy, pliancy that had been filling him before, replaced with cramp-inducing stiffness.

She strokes his hair, again, repeating her earlier words of assurance.

When he wakes enough to feel her fingers, he shudders, before begging her not to stop, control waining at the soft tug against his brow.

“I won’t” she promises him gently, hating the way his words are cracking and so blatantly laced with desperation, “I’ll keep goin’, I’m right here”

He nods a little, metal fingers tugging anxiously at the hem of his new jumper.

It’s soft and he loves it.

He loves the idea of having things again, things that nobody can take from him.

He loves her.

He loves her more than any of it- suddenly, he’s reaching over to hold onto to her waist, smooth fabric totally forgotten.

“Sweet, sweet boy” Y/N murmurs indulgently, brushing his cheeks again, “what woke you up, huh?”

His brow furrows, teeth tugging at his lower lip until he lets out a nervous breath,

“I-I- was havin’ a bad dream” he admits, blinking up at her in the dark, “I was, I was on my own”

Y/N shakes her head, pecking at his brow.

“You’re with me” she reminds him softly, “You’re with me, and you are never, going to wake up on the floor alone, ever again.”

There’s something about time she’s spent sleeping with him tucked, safely in her arms that makes her words come easily, without hesitation.

Her mind is clouded, she’s being pulled back towards sleep with every deep inhale she’s managing to take, but still, she knows what she’s saying is true.

and so does Bucky.

He keens out in response to her promise, his hands tightening around her, his nose rubbing against the skin of her throat as a soft, muffled sob leaves his lips.

The idea of him being woken by some terrible nightmare, the idea of him coming round in a fit of panic, and throwing himself to the ground as he tries his best to remember where, or when he is, is suddenly even more sickening than it had been earlier, in day light, when the exact patch of floor he’d resigned himself to resting on had been plainly visible.

“Never” she repeats, voice melting into his hair, “never, I promise”

Blue eyes are on hers, they’re tired, they’re bloodshot and shining wet, in the dim light of the room.

“I…I’m sorry I upset you” he whispers, “I didn’t- I didn’t mean too”

Y/N feels her head tilt, she’s confused, and it shows.

“What are you talkin’ about?” she asks, stifling a yawn as she reaches over to tuck a stray curl back behind his ear, “you haven’t done anythin”

“Earlier” Bucky murmurs, “When… when I told you, when I told you where I- where I used to sleep, it- it upset you, I- I shouldn’t-”

His remorse is palpable. Y/N guides him in for a kiss, a proper kiss, against his lips, that makes his breathing slow.

“I wasn’t upset with you” she tells him firmly, breaking away enough to let him rest his brow on hers, “I was upset for you, Bucky, there’s a difference.”

Even in the dark, she can see the cogs turning in his mind. She smiles, and rubs her nose against his, treating him to another gentle kiss before cupping his jaw in her free hand.

He’s still clinging to the other one, he squeezes her palm and blinks slowly, looking over at the digital clock that’s being projected against the far wall.

It’s 4am. He’s usually wide awake by now. He’s usually coming round from some terrible dream, or trying to run around the compound’s track in a bid to burn off the remnants of adrenaline, and kill time until he can call Y/N, or join Sam or Steve to spar.

But now, he doesn’t have to worry about any of that, he’s draped in warm, soft, fabric that is so dense he can feel it despite the layer of brushed wool he’s wearing. He’s pressed, tightly against his lovers chest, and for the first time in what feels like forever, he feels like he could just…go back to sleep.

Y/N seems to be have been considering the time, too, and she seems to have come to a similar conclusion, regarding what she wants to do.

“Whadd’ya say, sweetheart” she coos, carding his thighs with her legs, boxing him in and drawing him back into position, “we’ve got nowhere we need to be until later, why don’t we get some more sleep?”

He smiles, tentative and hidden into her chest, before nodding, stubble grazing her skin-

“That sounds’ perfect” he whispers, half slurring

1 | 2 | x | 4 | 5 | 6

[testingthewatersss]

Where you left me Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, flashbacks etc. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Chapter 2 4900 words fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI

You decide that something has to be done about Bucky's suit in the tower.

“Get some rest now, sweetheart” Y/N suggests calmly, hands making easy work of stroking his hair back from his sweat dampened brow, “I’m not going anywhere without ya’, I promise”

Bucky offers her a feeble nod of agreement, his fingers furl in the fabric of her top, as he tries his best to obey, to clear his mind and sleep, even if he doubts he’ll manage to stay unconscious for long, with the adrenaline that’s still rushing through his veins.

3 hours is what he manages. He’s still, and relatively peaceful, until a little after 6am, when Y/N is woken by the odd convulsing of his body.

She’s familiar with the routine by now. She understands that means she has to wake him, she knows it means he’s reliving something terrible, and that if she leaves him to come round from it alone, he’ll spend hours recovering in some kind of fragile half-state, panic stricken and barely blinking without being directly asked to do so.

“Bucky” she murmurs, “Wake up, you’re okay, it’s alright”

He startles at the sound of her voice, and almost throws himself out of the bed when her palms flatten on his cheeks.

Again, his response is familiar. That doesn’t make it any less heart-wrenching, though.

Seeing the blatant terror on his face, feeling him hyperventilating, and trying so hard, not to call out, or beg for mercy, is always going to cause a deep seeded ache to spread through Y/N’s chest, no matter how often she goes through it with him, or how much he tells her that having her there, makes it more bearable from his perspective.

“I-I’m sorry” he grunts at last, “I…I’m sorry”

She shakes her head slowly, curling her fingers over his jaw as he continues trying to steady his breathing.

“I’m okay” Bucky whispers, when he finally looks back at her face, “Did I hurt you, doll?”

Y/N tilts her head, watching the way his gaze is flickering over her shoulders, over the inch of bare skin showing above her vest,

“No” she promises, bringing her arms up, and out from under the covers so he can inspect them, too, “I swear, sweetheart, I’m fine”

He considers her seriously for a minute, before offering her a shy nod, and running his metal hand back through his hair with a huff.

“Let’s go?” Y/N prompts, suddenly eager to get him back to his own environment, “I’ll pack a bag, you can grab a coffee for the road?”

Blue eyes focus on her face almost instantly.

He’s checking if she’s serious, she realises, he’d either forgotten about the plan they’d made earlier, or he’d thought she’d been lying in an attempt to help him calm down.

“You meant that?” he croaks, genuinely surprised, “You’ll come back with me? and- and you’ll stay?”

Hope, something dangerously close to hope is swelling in his chest at the mere possibility of her having been sincere in offer to accompany him back to the tower, he takes another breath, and holds it, half expecting her to laugh, to tell him he’s misunderstood-

“Of course I meant it, Bucky”

-Oh, god-

The air leaves his lungs as he grins, bashful but desperately pleased.

“I.. I thought I-”

“I love you” Y/N cuts in, wanting to get moving, to get him settled again, despite the pleased expression he’s now donning, she can’t help but think he still seems awfully on-edge, “I love you, and I meant every word”

“Oh, god, doll I- I love you too, I- I love you so much I- I’ll make this up to ya’-I’ll- I swear I- god, I- I just, I- I love-”

This time, it’s a kiss that silences him. Hot and gentle and real against his lips.

When she finally pulls away, he’s breathless, and more than ready to nod, and follow her suggestion regarding readying himself to leave.

It takes 2 hours for them to pack, grab breakfast (even though Barnes refuses to eat, opting for coffee instead) and arrive at AVENGERS tower, with one full duffle bag in hand.

It’s in Bucky’s hand, to be precise. He’d refused Y/N’s numerous offers to carry it herself, barely sparing her a scoff as he’d gripped it in his metal fingers, so his flesh ones, that were still hot from the drink he’d just finished could curl easily around her own.

“Are you sure you don’t want your own room, doll?” he asks, looking at her from the corner of his eye, “I… I’d understand-really-”

“Do you want me to have my own room?” she counters, quirking her brow, “I’ve told you, I’m more than happy with you, sweetheart- but, if you want space, I-”

He stops, dropping the bag on the floor, rummaging in the pockets of his leather jacket for a swipe card-

“I don’t want space” he grumbles, looking almost ashamed as he lets go of her hand, “not from you”

Y/N tilts her head, expression softening as he lets out a frustrated breath- He’s shaking, he can’t find the card in his inside pocket-

She slips her hand over his, stilling his movements.

“Then I’ll stay with you”

He looks at her seriously, before nodding a fraction, and mumbling something about the ‘damn key’ he still can’t find.

“Here” she murmurs, smiling a little as she reaches around his waist, into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out his thin leather wallet.

She flips it open, and pulls out the blank, grey card she knows opens the door.

The ‘thank you’ he gives her is through gritted teeth. She tries not to roll her eyes as he heaves the bag back up, so he can bring it over the threshold into his room.

Y/N follows behind, sealing them both inside the space with a dull but reassuring click.

“Home sweet home” she coos, eyes floating around the room.

She’s seen it before, of course, but not very often, and not for a while.

Still, it’s much the same as it had been back then;

Most of the tower looks like a particularly high-class and high-tech hotel. Lots of glass, lots of marble, and a few ornate floral bouquets sitting around to add colour to the otherwise monochromatic theme.

That all changes when you start to explore the ‘private’ sections though, the top 3 floors are intricate laboratories, the one she’s visited most is Tony’s, and that one, looks like someone had picked up a teenage boys garage, lifted it a hundred feet onto a sky scraper and doused it in impossible technology. Stark’s living quarters held a quirky charm too, most of it was dark wood, and it was packed with neat little trinkets he’d either built or collected from what she could only guess had been flea markets or antique stores.

Each permanent resident had purpose built suites on the mid-levels, of course, they usually chose to spend most of their time in the common areas, since the kitchen was more expansive than the simpler facilities in their apartment, and each permanent resident had decorated their own space to their own tastes, from what she remembered, Steve’s had been similar to Stark’s in it’s size and arrangement, but it had certainly been simpler. He’d opted for wooden floors, too, but in a lighter shade, and his walls had been cream, as opposed to burgundy. His array of personal items had been much, much smaller, too, consisting mainly of black and white pictures in simple frames, and art work he’d either drawn himself, or received as a gift from the others.

In comparison to both, Bucky’s is empty.

It’s carpeted, which is a decision she’s grateful for, although the thick, white floor does reflect a lot of the rooms light against the blue-grey walls seem even brighter, and more clinical.

The bed is in the corner, beneath the window, and the pristine white sheets are made to a military grade.

There’s one frame on the pine-wood table beside it. She knows it holds a sepia picture of himself and Steve as younger men, outside some a bar in downtown Brooklyn. Tucked into the corner is a photo-booth print out of herself and him, from their second date, when she’d been horrified to learn that he had no idea what a ‘photo-booth’ did.

She smiles at it. Trying not to look too sad at the barrenness of what is supposed to be his home.

Bucky, ignorant to her assessment, removes his boots, placing them precisely by his grey, woven couch.

It’s obviously un-used. The whole room looks brand new.

Y/N remembers thinking the same thing the last time she’d been here- but, she’d come to the conclusion that it had been new, then, so she hadn’t given it much thought.

She can’t use that excuse anymore. He’s been here for months, even with the few night’s he spends with her a week- there should be more sign of life in here by now.

Even the small kitchenette is unnervingly tidy.

“Does Stark have people come and clean up every hour?” she asks with a fake chuckle, “or did being in the army give you OCD?”

Bucky looks at her, hands in his pocket, embarrassed smile on his lips.

“I.. uh” he swallows, “I don’t have much…clutter”

“That’s an understatement” Y/N teases, closing the distance between then, looping her hands around his neck, “It looks like you’ve barely touched anything since I last came over”

“I haven’t” he agrees, carefully moving his own hands over to her waist.

She’s eyes him curiously, leaning into his touch, letting him inch his hips out towards hers until they’re front to front, duffle bag long forgotten by his feet.

“It’s your home” she reminds him sweetly, “you’re allowed to make a mess from time to time”

Bucky hums lightly, nose pressing into the top of her head.

“It looks like a show room,- don’t you want to decorate a little?”

“I’m no good at that kinda’ thing, darlin” he whispers sadly, “I don’t feel like it’s mine anyway- I-”

“It is, though” Y/N inserts, pulling back just enough to smile at him, “why don’t we go do some online shoppin, huh? see if we can’t make it feel less like a doctors office”

She throws a judgemental glare at the vase of obviously fake flowers that are set on the horrible glass coffee table.

“Whatever you want” Bucky replies, unconvinced.

“Come on” she murmurs, a little disturbed at his slightly vacant expression, “I’ll unpack later, let’s sit- you have sat on your couch before, right?”

He tries to smile at her teasing. He just about manages it, too.

“Once or twice” he allows, settling himself beside her, all be it a little awkwardly.

Y/N snorts playfully, kicking her own shoes off and putting her feet up on the table.

He looks at her curiously, but doesn’t seem anymore relaxed than he had when they’d been stood.

It’s strange. He’s never acted this stiffly at her apartment. Sure, he occasionally had bouts of almost crippling obedience- periods of time where he wouldn’t dare to touch anything without her expressed consent, but she doesn’t think she can ever recall him being this unsure of himself, this visibly tense.

“What’s the matter, Buck?” she coos, hoping he really is just over tired, “Am I crampin’ your style already?”

His head shakes instantly, his eyes apologetic.

“No, doll, it-” he gives a sigh, hands fussing in his lap, “It’s me- I- I’m always like this here, that- that’s why I thought you might want your own room”

Y/N hums encouragingly as she reaches across to hold his hand, hoping he’ll expand on his own.

“I’m a damn mess” Bucky admits, avoiding her gaze, “I don’t sleep, I can’t so- so I stopped even trying to use the bed” he nods over at the neglected object to their right, “I don’t really eat, not- not much so- so I don’t really use that either-” his eyes roll over to the kitchenette, “I- usually just, try and stay out of the way when I’m not with Steve or, or Sam or you, Y/N/N, I- That’s why- That’s why I like bein’ at your place so much I guess- I- I guess I know my place, there”

“You’re not a mess” she says after a beat of silence, “Did you say you don’t use the bed?”

That question seems to have taken him by surprise. He looks at her for a split second, before nodding.

“So where do you sleep?”

“I- don’t really-”

Y/N shakes her head, squeezing his palm, “I know you don’t sleep well, baby, but you’ve gotta pass out sometimes”

“Usually over there” he murmurs, embarrassment making his cheeks burn red as he gestures over to the corner of the room, where the carpet is slightly more worn in.

“On the floor?” She checks, horrified.

“I know, I know it’s pathetic, Y/N/N, Please-”

Please don’t go, he thinks, Please don’t yell at me.

“Why?”

Why?

Her question echos through his head for a moment, making him squint down at his legs.

“Why, down there, and not on the bed or on the couch?” Y/N clarifies, trying not to sound too upset.

He gives a small shrug.

“Always end up on the floor anyway- Guess I throw myself off whatever I’m on, I usually come round in the corner, figured it’s where I belong anyway- makes no difference if I-”

“don’t ever say that again” she commands, voice sterner than she’d intended.

He almost flinches, but instead, he just swallows hard-

“Please, Buck-” she softens, regretting her accidental sharpness “You don’t belong on the floor, don’t say that-”

“I’m sorry” he whispers, knowing he probably should’ve censored himself a little, hating how he’s upset her, already, “ I’m sorry ”

Her head shakes as she sighs, long and slow, fingers running lines across his knuckles, metal and skin warming up under the contact.

“Don’t be” she murmurs, reaching up with one hand, so that she can guide his face towards hers, “You’re not doin’ well at all, are you?”

Bucky locks his jaw, grinding his teeth to steel against the burn of emotion that’s suddenly heavy in his chest.

His head shakes firmly. His gaze stays on the floor, even though she’s cupping his cheek.

“It’s gonna be okay” she promises, tone gentler than he’s ever heard it, “you’re going to be alright”

He blinks, looking at her, exposed, like a nerve under her consideration.

“I’m not going anywhere, not unless you want me too”

She’s being totally sincere, he realises, she means what she’s saying, and that, alone is enough to make tears fill his eyes.

Y/N watches him paw at his face, even the hand still clutching hers, going up to rub at his eyes.

“Okay?” she whispers, moving across to hug him the best she can in their positions, “It’s going to be alright”

Bucky’s breathing seems to deepen at the continued sound of her voice. He moves her fingers down, so that he can press a desperate kiss against her knuckles before he can finally shift, to bury his face in her shoulder.

“T-thank you” he gulps, relishing in the privacy her embrace is giving him, “I… I need you- I- I love you-I, I’ll do my best- I, I swear, I- I want to get better”

“I know” she assures him with a nod, “I know you do, and I love you too”

Eventually, Bucky tears himself away from the crook of her neck- he’s secretly proud of himself for the way he’s stifled his urge to cry.

“C’mere” Y/N smiles, wide and beautiful, as she pats her thighs, “You should try and get some rest before Steve realises we’re here”

Bucky scoffs, but slides into position without any resistance.

When his head is resting comfortably on her lap, his own legs spread across the remaining length of the couch he’s barely sat on before now, he lets out a long breath.

This is where I belong, he thinks hopefully, I belong with you.

Y/N silently threads her fingers through his hair, looking around for something to cover him with- when she realises there’s nothing like that anywhere near by, she settles for reaching over, to zip up his jacket. He grabs her hands though, and brings her fingers over to his lips instead, so he can kiss at her knuckles before rubbing his cheek against her skin like an affectionate pet.

She takes the hint, and decides to go back to carding the dark strands back, away from his face, until his eyes flutter shut.

Whilst Bucky naps, Y/N shops. She uses her cell phone and FRIDAY’s built in software to compile a 4 page long list of home items, which she pays an extortionate delivery fee for, to ensure they arrive by that afternoon-

She manages to order grocery’s too- although she settles for tomorrow, where there arrival is concerned.

It shouldn’t be too hard to make this place a home, she thinks happily, eyes flickering around the space, before eventually landing back on the sleeping man on her legs.

A small smile settles on her face when she decides that he is her home, anyway.

“What’cha grinnin’ at, doll?” Bucky croaks, voice thick with sleep, eyes barely open

“You” she replies honestly, beaming even wider as he rolls onto his side, pressing a kiss into her thighs, “You wanna take a shower, whilst I unpack?”

That sounds nice. It sounds domestic and safe, and like it might make the way his head is now pounding feel a little awful.

“yeah” he grumbles, pushing up so he’s on his feet in front of her, “If that’s alright with you, or I can always-”

Y/N shakes her head gently, standing up along side him with a gentle stretch.

“It’s alright, I’ll manage- can I use those drawers for the clothes I brought?”

There’s a single storage unit, and a built in wardrobe that she suspects holds all of his tactical gear.

“Use whatever you want, doll” he tells her sincerely, “If you need anythin’ just, just tell me and I’ll make it happen”

She presses a soft kiss to his cheek, tugging at the zip of his leather jacket.

He turns into her completely, holding onto her waist as he buries his face against the top of her head, taking a minute, to just be.

“God, my head is killin’ me” she hears him mumble when he finally starts to draw back, “I’ll be back soon”

She nods, stroking his hand affectionately before he starts to walk away.

It doesn’t take long for the sound of the shower to click on, and by then, she’s already arranging her clothes on his bed, trying to decide which of the few other objects she’s brought, might be worth keeping close by.

2 of the drawers in his dresser are totally empty.

She fills 1 of them, before running out of clothes.

Bucky emerges with a towel hung around his waist, looking damp, flushed and still a little more muddled than usual.

Y/N greets him with a broad grin, that would have rendered him speechless, had he been speaking.

Instead, he just looks at the ground, bashful as he runs metal fingers back through his wet hair.

“How’s your head?” she asks absentmindedly, placing her paper back diary on his side table and straightening her jewellery box so it’s in line with the back of the surface,

When he doesn’t reply, she focuses on him properly.

Her heart drops.

“Do you need any help?” Bucky asks, ignoring her question-

“No, sweetheart, I’m almost done”

He nods, discarding the towel so he’s naked by the bed.

Even though he can feel her eyes on his back, he avoids her gaze, trying not to think about the scars he knows she can see.

She’s seen them before, he reminds himself grimly, as he pads around the bed, she knows you’re a fucking monster-

Suddenly, her palms are on his hips- he freezes in position, heart hammering against his ribs as he tells himself he’s safe, that he’s with Y/N, that she’s not going to hurt him, that she wouldn’t let anyone hurt him.

The muscles under her hands start to soften after a moment.

Her head tilts as she listens to Bucky exhale, carefully straightening his posture, almost like he’s afraid of displacing her fingers.

“What’s the matter?” she whispers, letting him shift in place, so that he’s facing her, “Huh?, what’s hurtin’ you so much?”

Bucky is brave. Y/N knows he rarely complains, rarely dares raise any kind of issue, no matter how sever, so to know that something is bothering him enough to have him voice it, even though he’d only been talking to himself, is enough to make her worry.

“’s nothin’, doll” he murmurs, acutely aware of his nakedness, “I’m being-”

She kisses at his chest, nuzzling into the angry seam of skin on his shoulder.

Either the hot water or steam seems to have soothed it a little, it’s less sore looking than it had been earlier, and he’s not drawing his arms back, or keeping it taught.

“My head is pounding…” he confesses quietly, leaning into the feeling of her lips “…It’ll pass”

“It will” she agrees, voice vibrating against his collar, “but maybe you should eat something?”

Her suggestion seems fair, even if the idea of a meal is making him anxious.

He hums noncommittally, pecking her brow before moving away to dress himself.

Y/N lets him take his time, she doesn’t want to press him about the food issue, not now she knows it is in fact an issue. Especially not if his head is bothering him this much already.

He barely has time to change before Steve is at the door. Beaming, and joking and scooping her up into a hug so tight she has to gasp for air.

The others love her, almost as much as Bucky does.

She’d been Tony’s friend first. She’d known him since before his parent’s death- though, they’d only become close after he’d come back from the desert with a hole in his chest, and a desperate need for her to help him make an element to keep it from killing him.

Captain America’s fondness for her had blossomed when he’d caught her sneaking out of Stark’s laboratory at three am, a pizza box in hand.

He’d followed her, suspicious and protective.

When he’d seen her head out onto the roof, taking a seat next to his just returned, totally shell-shocked, best-friend, he’d nearly burst out from his hiding place to verbally berate her.

Then, he’d watched as she’d touched Bucky’s leg, and to his enormous surprise, Bucky had let her.

The pair had stayed up until sunrise, eating and talking, holding hands.

Steve had left just before they’d made to leave, undiscovered and guilt ridden, for how he’d initially suspected her of malice, just because she’d been Tony’s friend.

Once Bucky had confided in him about his romantic relationship with the woman, it had been Steve who had gone to the billionaire, ready to plead his case and beg the man to let it continue with his blessing- he’d never seen Barnes so enamoured with another person, even with the girls he’d courted back in the 40s, and besides all that, nobody could deny how positive of an influence the woman was on him, and his recovery, which, after all, was in everyones best interest.

Tony had already known. Y/N had come to him way before Steve, not to seek approval, but to share her genuine happiness with her oldest, dearest friend.

The others warmed up to her quickly, even though they didn’t see her much. Between Ironman, and the Winter Solider, and now, Captain America, she found herself so over-protected most of the time, that she barely went anywhere that wasn’t planned in advance.

Not that she minded.

“You’re really stayin, darlin?” Steve asks excitedly, “You sure the hospital can spare ya’?”

“I emailed this mornin” she tells him cheerily, “There’s no problem, as long as I’m on call and have access to a lab, they can get someone to cover my lists”

“That’s awesome” he replies, beaming even wider as Bucky comes up behind her, hair tied back, and presses a kiss to her head, “Really, Y/N/N- I’m real pleased-”

“I know, Steve” she chuckles, reaching up to her shoulder, to lace her fingers with her lovers, “I’m happy to be here, it’s exactly where I need to be”

When her brown eyes meet his blue ones, she knows he understands. She knows his intense joy at her apparent relocation doesn’t just stem from his affection for her. He’s relieved.

It’s not surprising, really- Bucky is easy to read, especially when you know him.

She’s happy to help. More than happy, really. He needs to remember that he’s got people around him who want to be there, who care, who really, really, care.

“-whatd’ya say, Buck?” Steve presses, snapping Y/N back to the conversation she’s missed, “We can grab lunch on the way”

His fingers tighten around Y/N’s, but she can tell he’s nodding.

“I’m sorry, Y/N/N- If we’d have known we’d have re-arranged, it’s just SHEILD briefing, but they think it’s gonna take most of the afternoon- I’m sure you could-”

“I’ve sat through more than enough briefings, thanks” she declines with a chuckle, “I’ve actually got some stuff I want to sort here, if that’s okay?”

She tilts her head up too look at Bucky. He meets her gaze and she can see curiosity shining behind his eyes.

That’s better than the other emotions that have been readable there recently, so she takes it, winking in his direction, and standing up to place a kiss against his cheek.

Goodbyes are exchanged quickly after that, even though Bucky was overly apologetic about having to leave her alone on her first official day. It had been easy enough to reassure him, though, especially with Steve half pulling him out the door, chattering eagerly about telling Stark about her arrival.

It turns out, Tony’s presence is not required at the meeting the other have gone too, so, within twenty-minutes he’s by her side, leaning on Barnes’ empty dresser, talking about the delivery she’s waiting for.

“I mean it’s fuckin’ ridiculous, T-” she says, gesturing around the room, “It’s like a fuckin’ hotel-”

“Hey” he objects, faking a wounded expression, “I only hire the best-”

“Oh, fuck off” Y/N snorts, feeling him bumping against her shoulder as she roles her eyes, “You’ve gotta admit it’s-”

“Yeah, yeah” Stark sighs, rubbing his goatie, “it’s a little depressin’ in here, the guy could do with havin’ some more—”

“some more what?” she teases, “Personal possessions?”

It makes it easier, joking about it with Tony- it makes it less tragic to admit that that’s exactly what he would benefit from.

“Lookin’ at the tab you ran up on your company card, I’d say he’s well on his way to owning a department store full”

“Sorry” Y/N says, half meaning it, “I should’ve asked-”

“Don’t be ridiculous” he cuts her off, “You’re family, you don’t need to ask”

There’s a beat of silence that follows his words. The sincerity behind his statement sinks in, and Y/N can’t help but rest her head against his shoulder.

“I think this might be permanent” she says, looking up as he loops his arm around her, tucking her into his side, “Is that okay?”

“You and Barnes kanoodelling, or you movin’ in?”

Y/N bursts out a laugh as she pinches his side in mock scolding.

“Both” she murmurs, secretly pleased with the smirk he’s sporting.

“Then yeah,” he replies, exhaling, “but only if it is really permanent- ‘cause if he breaks your heart I’m gonna have to really kill him, and he won’t be able to pull the torture card- so I think Rodgers’ might even-”

“Shut up” she snorts, equally as playful, even as she breaks away from their half-hug-

“He doesn’t even have a percolator” Tony announces from the kitchenette, he sounds genuinely dismayed, “Is that instant coffee?”

Y/N peers over her shoulder and nods,

“Decaff, too- I’ve ordered-”

“That, is a war crime” he says, dramatically replacing the jar, “does he survive exclusively off pickles or?”

She chuckles, looking into the empty fridge.

“I think there’s some microwave soup in one of those-” she points up to the cuboards, “but, you get the point, Tony- this is-”

“Sad” he agrees, before she even says it, “It’s embarrassing really”

They sit on his couch for an hour, Tony brings coffee from the shared kitchen, and they order a take-out that arrives just before the boxes of decorations start to pile up.

Stark sends his suits to bring them up, and Y/N has to try and pretend to be angry at his laziness, when really, she’s infinitely grateful.

He refuses to let her either start on an empty stomach, or unpack the shopping alone.

They put the TV on, and get to work.

It’s brilliant.

Together, they’re laughing and joking and making decent progress for 3 hours before Tony has to leave.

He hugs her goodbye, kissing her cheek and ordering her to have FRIDAY send a picture when it’s finished.

She tells him he’ll make a good interior designer, if the hero-gig ever fails, and she can still hear him chuckling, even though the door is shut again.

1 | x | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

[testingthewatersss]

Where you left me Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, flashbacks etc. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Chapter 4 4680 words fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI

You decide that this is definitely permanent

And that’s exactly what they do. For another 4 hours, everything is peaceful. The pair remain nestled under blankets on the newly decorated couch, and for the first time in a long time, Bucky dreams of summer. He dreams of cloudless skies, and warm light on his skin; it’s soothing, and when he finally blinks his eyes open, he’s surprised that the heat he’s been feeling is real, it’s the trailing of Y/N’s fingers up, and down the exposed skin of his forearm. It’s the kiss of her lips on his brow.

“Christ” he whispers, voice cracking from disuse, “Doll, how long have you been up?”

She beams down at him, and flicks a glance at the clock, before shrugging a fraction, and kissing him again.

“bout an hour”

He thinks she looks like an angel. She’s always beautiful, of course, but there’s something about the way she’s smiling at him, with the light from the windows illuminating her features, with a few stray curls hanging loosely in front of her cheeks, that he thinks makes her look ethereal.

“You’re starring” she says cooly, flicking a jovial glance over her shoulder as if she isn’t plainly aware that she is the subject of his admiration, “did I hang somethin’ crooked?”

He humours her with a scoff, before rolling over so he’s poised above her on his elbows.

Her hands drift up, they cup his cheeks almost instantly, and he finds himself blushing, prickling with heat under her examination.

“You look good” Bucky hears her coo, “Really good”

Oh, god.

The praise in her voice is enough to make the warmth in his cheeks become a raging fire, spreading down, straight to his chest, making his heart stammer in response.

“I… I guess sleepin’ suites me.” he forces out awkwardly, averting his eyes with a shy attempt at a smile.

Y/N laughs softly, stroking her thumbs across his temples.

“I don’t know” she says, “I think you’re pretty beautiful when you’re exhausted too, maybe it’s bein’ comfortable that’s a good look on you”

“maybe” he agrees quietly, before ducking his head down lower in a bid to disguise his bashfulness.

She loves they affectionate display, her fingers slip up into his hair as he nuzzles at her throat, earnestly relishing in the contact, and the moment of quiet.

“I’ve gotta talk to Nat” she says suddenly, “do you think she’ll be around?”

Bucky’s head snaps upwards, eyes wide and curious. His expression silences her mid sentence, as she snaps her own head to the side.

“Maybe, doll, whatcha’ need her for?”

“because” she replies, “she’s got the number for that real estate agent that SHEILD use for safe houses-”

The line between his brow deepens, so she lets herself grow quiet again.

Doubt prickles in her chest for moment, when she catches herself, and realises that she hasn’t actually spoken to him about the permanence of this ‘temporary’ visit.

“Sorry… I, uh… We… we should talk things through, I-”

“You’re sorry?” Bucky repeats, genuinely confused, “Y/N/N, what are ya’ talking about?”

“We need to talk, sweetheart, about all this” she says, rubbing her nose against his to try and offset some of the anxiety she suspects this conversation is triggering, “about me staying, Buck- staying-”

“For good?” he cuts in, hope making his voice an octave higher than usual, “or… or have you changed your mind?”

That possibility strikes him like a punch in the ribs. The optimism he’d experienced for a second, when he’d first deciphered her words leaves him instantly, and he finds himself clinging to waist with a little more strength.

He considers apologising for his behaviour, even though he’s not sure what he might have done during the night to have spurred her imminent departure. He considers skipping that step, all together and just flat out pleading with her to stay with him regardless.

“Honey” Y/N says, snapping his attention firmly back to her, “Of course I haven’t changed my mind”

The breath leaves his lungs in a deep, relieved sigh.

“I’ve just been thinkin’” she continues, “I’m not sure I want this to be temporary, and I don’t want to presume, I- I don’t think you want me to go, but-”

“I don’t” Bucky inserts urgently, “I… god, doll… I- I don’t want ya to leave”

Her smile is wide, it’s genuine and beautiful and he can’t stop starring as he waits for her response.

Part of him is still expecting some type of rejection, a gentle shake of her head followed by an explanation of how he’s misunderstood, seems possible, likely, even but all he gets instead is a kiss agains the fingers she’s holding, as she guides them up to her cheek.

“Good” Y/N coos, squeezing his palm “I kinda cleared it with T yesterday, but I should probably get that number, see if I can get the ball rollin’ on at least rentin’ my place out, no point in keepin’ it empty, drawers more attention that way”

Bucky is beaming when she looks at his face again, it’s involuntary, she’s known him long enough to be able to read that, to read that this isn’t one of his deliberate smiles, it’s not a mask, or a tool to distract or assure someone else of his wellbeing, it’s a totally humane response that he’s not even trying to hide, and she thinks, that that makes it all the more beautiful.

She closes her eyes when he kisses her, it’s intense, it’s precious and it’s clear from the sweet noises he makes against her lips that he’s trying his best to tell her something, even though she’s not sure what, exactly that might be.

“I” he murmurs, the second they break apart “I fuckin’ love you”

She laughs beneath him, before pecking at his cheek,

“Glad to hear it, Sarge, since you’re kinda stuck with me”

His heart swells at her voice, it swells at her term of address and again, at the reality of her statement.

She’s staying, she’s not going to up and leave him when she thinks he doesn’t need her anymore.

“What are you smilin’ at?”

“You” Bucky says honestly, “It’s always you”

“I’ll be sure to tell Steve” Y/N snorts playfully, “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to hear-”

“He’s always thrilled” he replies, “Kid’s like a damn Labrador most of the time”

“You sound like Tony” Y/N says, “you been spendin’ too much time in the labs?”

“I don’t go to the labs” Bucky counters, “not without you”

“ I thought you were supposed to go every few weeks?”

Her tone is almost accusing, it makes guilt flare hot and sudden in his cheeks. His gaze drops, heart plummeting.

“Hey” she soothes, running her fingers across his knuckles, “What’s that?”

“I’m sorry” he whispers, voice cracking, “I know that was the plan”

She nods. It had been part of the plan they’d set up a while ago, when he’d first mentioned the pain he often experienced across his metal arm.

Phantom limb syndrome, compromised tendons, un-capped wires and exposed nerves, alongside the reality of having a deep, old scar that had been put through decades of cryogenic freezing had meant that sometimes it wasn’t just nightmares keeping Bucky awake for hours on end.

Y/N had been the first to learn about this, about how sometimes the joint of his shoulder burned just as intensely as it had when he’d first woken up, and realised he didn’t have his own arm anymore.

She’d taken him to Bruce, who’d called Tony, who’d called Steve, who’d sat awkwardly on his right, whilst everyone had discussed the options and eventually decided that monitoring was the best way of creating a plan that wasn’t going to push Bucky too close to the edge.

“It was” she agrees softly, “But the only reason there was a plan in the first place, was to help you- it was yours, baby, you never had to do anything”

He nods, biting his lip.

“Is it still hurtin’ you?” Y/N asks, “Or has it settled?”

She knows it’s unlikely that a sudden recovery is the reason for his avoidance of the medical suites in the tower, but it seems like something worth asking anyway.

“I’m fine…” is his immediate response, the tone in which he says it is so robotic that it takes even him by surprise, Y/N barely has to quirk her brow before he inhales, and re-evaluates his answer, “… It’s not bad right now, it… it comes and goes”

That, is believable, so she nods-

“It’s comin’ more than it’s goin’ lately” he confesses next, “I just couldn’t make myself go up there, Y/N/N… I knew I should- it- it was all set up but, but I- I just couldn’t-”

“I would’ve come with you” she reminds him, “if you’d have asked”

“I know, doll” He offers her a tight lipped smile, “I just, didn’t want to bother ya’”

Her face shifts to something equal parts sad, and understanding, before she guides his cheeks down, so that she can press a gentle kiss against his brow.

“You never bother me” she murmurs against his skin, before reaching up to brush his hair back, with the same kind of tenderness as she had during that night, “I promise.”

The genuinity behind her words silences him. He’s heard it all before, not even just from her, Steve, has spent plenty of time assuring him that he’s not a burden, hell, he’s sure every resident in the tower has told him something similar at one point or another, but he doesn’t think it’s ever hit him with as much force, as this.

“I’ll tell ya…” he whispers, “…when it next flares up”

“Please” Y/N agrees, letting him retreat to the crook of her neck, to the place where he’d spent the majority of the night, “you’ve gotta let me help you, sweetheart”

“I don’t deserve ya” he whispers, “I really don’t, doll- you, you do too much-”

“Stop” she murmurs, feeling the tension building in his upper body, “Baby, I don’t do anythin’… I just, I just love you…”

“That’s plenty”

Y/N chuckles a little at that, before shaking her head and palming at the back of his neck, to try and ease some of the strain from his muscles.

He melts at the contact, every fibre of his being lurching out towards her in an insane rush of affection.

“You gotta promise me somethin’, Y/N/N”

She hums, watching as he curls around her front, to blink at her sweetly from his position against her chest.

“You’ll tell me, if, if I do somethin- or, or if it all gets too much-”

Part of her wants to cut him off, to assure him that he won’t do anything, that it won’t all suddenly become more than she can handle, but there’s something about his expression keeps her silent, with one hand in his, and the other, starting to comb through a tangle of his curls.

“I can’t… I… I couldn’t…” he continues, “I don’t want to be on my own again, I- I don’t think I could live, live without you…”

“Oh, sweetheart…” Y/N whispers, feeling his sheer sincerity, “…please don’t worry about that, you’re never goin’ to be alone again, I promise, I’m not goin’ anywhere”

“If I do somethin’ wrong please just, please just tell me, I- I won’t have meant to-”

“You wont” she’s quick to soothe, “Bucky, we’ve been over this, you’re not goin’ to do anythin-”

“Please” he insists, “Just, just promise you’ll- you’ll give me a chance to- to put it right, if I- If I-”

“Alright” Y/N agrees, sensing his increasing desperation, “Alright, I promise, baby, I- I promise”

He blinks at her, shocked but grateful for her assurances, before nodding shakily, and inhaling deeply through his nose.

“Can you promise me something, too?” she asks carefully, watching the way he’s staring up at her from his position.

He nods again, even though he doesn’t know exactly what she’s asking for.

“You’ve gotta keep trying to let me in” she begins, “You’ve gotta tell me, when something’s botherin’ you, tell me, when you need somethin’, baby, you don’t have to pretend you’re alright when you’re not.”

“I… I’m scared, doll” he admits, “It’s… It’s like I said yesterday, I— I don’t want you to see what a mess I am-”

“I know, and I know you didn’t have a choice for a long time, I know you’re not used to opening up, and I know that terrifies you, but you’ve gotta try, you’ve gotta try and trust me-”

“I do” Bucky cuts in, “I do trust you, Y/N/N, more, more than I’ve ever trusted anyone, ‘cept maybe Steve,- it’s, it’s just a hard habit to break..”

The woman who he’s settled on nods, understanding, and gives his palm a comforting squeeze.

“But, I’ll try” he tells her, “I promise, I’ll try and get better about sayin’ somethin’, it- it’s easier for me, to, to let that guard down with you… you always seem t’know when something’s wrong anyway”

Y/N smiles at that, bringing their entwined fingers up to her lips, so that she can press a kiss against his knuckles. Her eyes drift down, to the soft fabric of the sweater he’s wearing, she smoothes it down across his chest,

“You asked me if you can keep it” she says, “Durin’ the night, do’ya remember?”

Bucky ducks his head, bashful, as a soft noise of agreement leaves the base of his throat.

“Guess I can’t believe my luck”

The scoff she gives him is gentle, it’s affectionate and airy, and it makes the heat start to dissipate from his cheeks.

“It’s just a jumper, sweetheart”

“Not to me” he counters, meeting her eyes again, “I… I didn’t have things, before, doll, and I- I never put much stock in buyin’ stuff when I got out- I, I took what I was given and was grateful, I don’t think I could ever tell ya’ how much it means to me, the room, and, and the clothes-”

“You’re a sap, Barnes” Y/N teases, kissing his cheek, “anyone ever told you that?”

He chuckles silently, grateful for her joking, and the way it’s lightening the previously thick atmosphere.

“No, I don’t think they have”

“I’m not sure I’m buyin’ what you’re sellin, I’ll have to ask Rodgers later”

“You do that, doll” Bucky says, kissing her lips before making the move to stand, “bring him a squeaky toy, and he’ll tell ya’ whatever ya’ want”

She lands a playful swat on his ass, as he turns to grin down at where she’s sprawled across the couch.

“Coffee?” he asks, still beaming, “I guess I should try and figure out that machine”

“You definitely should” she agrees, rolling over and grabbing her cell phone from the coffee table, “Since I’m gonna be a permanent fixture, and I refuse to drink powdered decaf for the rest of our lives.”

By the time he goes to rejoin her, two steaming mugs of real espresso in his grasp, Bucky’s cheeks are aching from how long he’s been smiling.

Y/N’s expression is similar, even though he thinks it’s infinitely more beautiful, especially in the increasing daylight.

Her bare legs are kicked up over his, the TV is back on, the news chattering on at a low volume-

There’s a strike, at the postal office, and a newly elected member of the democratic party seems to be trying to garner some support.

The pair make half-interested conversation about the topics, and the enjoyable mundaneness of the day they plan on having.

“Nat says she can have an agent handle listing my apartment” Y/N announces, when the weather crosses the screen for the second time, “She says it’s probably safer that way, less chance of HYDRA linkin’ me to it, if anythin’ got out about the move”

He tries not to tense at the sound of the word on her lips. He makes a quiet noise of consideration, and lets his free hand trail up, across her shin.

“I’m not sure it matters, to be honest” she sighs next, “They know about us already, we haven’t exactly been hiding”

“Still” Bucky grunts, “Romanoff knows what she’s talkin’ about, if she thinks it’s better to let SHEILD take care of it-”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right… I guess I just feel bad, wastin’ peoples time on somethin’ so trivial, y’know?”

“Your safety isn’t trivial” Tony says firmly, over 3 hours later, when Y/N broaches the same concerns in the common room, “Christ, I’ve hired agents for-”

“I don’t care what you, pay people to do, Tony” Y/N/N argues calmly, “and I’m plenty safe.”

Bucky is sitting a few metres away, beside Steve on the dark leather couches that occupy the far end of the room. He shares a strained glance with his friend, before returning his attention to where his girl and Tony are still bickering by the refrigerator.

“I don’t know why you’re makin’ a big deal out of this” Y/N says, “I can handle packing my own boxes-”

“Nobody is sayin’ you’re not capable” Natasha inserts, speaking for the first time in awhile, “we’re just sayin’ that maybe you shouldn’t”

Frustration makes Y/N’s cheeks burn red, she runs a hand through her hair, and grabs the open bottle of orange juice from Tony’s hands, taking a swig before putting it down on the counter with a little more force than had been necessary.

“You can’t keep me here indefinitely” she says, making deliberate eye contact with the billionaire in front of her, “I am going to have to leave, at some point, y’know? to work, or to get-”

“I thought you said you can work from the labs?” Steve asks- The way she glares at him instantly making him wish he’d stayed silent.

“HA!” Tony chortles, thrilled, “I knew you-”

“I am not leaving the hospital for good!” she refutes, “just because I could take a non-clinical role does not mean that I’m going to do that long term.”

“Stark industries will pay you more than-”

“It’s not about money, T, I know you’d give me a hell of a salary”

“Then why-”

“Because” she sighs, “I help people at the hospital, Tony- I know I help people here, too- but, it’s different, and I’m not willing to stop doing a job that I’m good at just because me leaving your tower makes you a little antsy”

“a little antsy” Tony quotes, in a mocking voice, “can you back me up here?” he shoots an exasperated look at his friends, lingering a little longer on Rodgers’ “you-”

“I-” Y/N cuts in, drawing all the eyes in the room back to her “Have managed to keep myself safe, whilst living in the outside world for years. You are not going to stand there and pretend that this is the first time in my life my relationships have put me in danger.”

That is a little bit of a low blow. She feels a sting of guilt when she catches the look behind her oldest friend’s eyes. Her expression softens, she leans in to kiss his cheek.

“I know you worry, Tony” she allows, “but just because I’m movin’ in doesn’t mean you can keep me locked up here for the rest of my life”

“How about just for the rest of mine?” he offers, tone deliberately playful.

She knows it’s his way of apologising, of making amends, and telling her he doesn’t mean to be difficult.

Her hip bumps his, as she moves past him, to lean against the pool table, that’s only a few feet from Bucky and Steve.

They’re watching her with a mutual curiosity that she can’t help but snigger at.

“What?” she pokes, “why’re you both lookin’ at me like that?”

“Like what?” they say in unison.

Tony’s cackle makes Natasha roll her eyes.

“Like I’m new app on your cell that you can’t figure out.”

The duo look at each other, and then back at Y/N. She waits patiently, until Steve finally speaks.

“What’d you mean, darl?” he asks, “when you said it’s not the first time your relationships have put you in danger?”

It’s the way that he looks at Tony that makes her laugh this time. She quirks her brow and tilts her head,

“Are you askin’ her if she’s slept with me?” Stark cuts in, almost choking on the words.

Natasha scoffs, perching on the large window sill, ready to watch the interaction unfold.

“I wasn’t-”

“Yes you were” Bucky counters, rolling his eyes, “I wasn’t, doll, but-”

“Thanks Buck” Steve gristles, ignoring the urge to grin when Barnes lets his shoulder knock against his,

“No” Y/N answers calmly, “I haven’t had the pleasure”

“Though if my dad had, had his way we’d have probably been married by now” Tony inserts, ignoring the playful shove of Y/N’s hands against his waist as he scoots up beside her, “couple of kids, maybe a cat-”

“I hate cats” she reminds him, “and, if we’d have gotten married, you’d be long dead by now.”

Stark feigns a look of hurt, clutching his chest to convey his false offence.

“Oh come on” she coos, “you gonna pretend you wouldn’t have at least tried to smother me in my sleep if we’d been paired up like that?”

“Never” he says, “But, I might have tried to poison you once or twice”

“I’d have shot ya’ first” Y/N tells him, “you’d have never gotten the chance”

“Ha!” he snorts, “You’d’ve never gotten away with it, way too-”

“Oh yes I would” she counters, cool, “I’d have gotcha in your study, maybe even at the office, gotten the angle right, faked a note, the stress of a company like yours, Tony, it gets to the best of people, and well, we all know you’re troubled…”

“Troubled” he repeats, awed by the fake emotion in her voice, “You’re evil”

She laughs then, and he joins her, head falling to her shoulder.

“You two are insane” Natasha comments, almost fondly, “if your father really wanted you to get hitched-”

“Oh he did” Y/N allows, “I’m from good stock, and he thought I’d straighten him out”

Bucky has heard this before, in passing more than anything else, he’s still curious though, he rarely hears about Y/N’s past with Tony, despite how close they are. He suspects she holds back to try and stop him from feeling uncomfortable, despite how undeserving of her protection he feels.

“Yeah” Tony says, replying to a question Romanoff had put forth during Barnes’ moment of distraction, “she was always hangin’ around, couldn’t get rid of her”

Y/N snorts at that, looking down at where Stark is nestled into her flank as if to excentuate his attachment;

“You” she says, “are the one who kept inviting me over”

“father’s orders” he lies, “wanted me to court ya’ early”

“That is such horse-shit!” she exclaims, half laughing again, “you just liked havin’ someone to show off too”

He shrugs, “always asked for a sister when I was a kid, and I always got what I wanted”

She lets her eyes roll, even though the affection of his words makes her smile wide.

“Did you know his folks well, Y/N/N?” Steve asks, broaching the subject for the first time.

“Not his mother” she replies, “I was pretty close with Howard, though, always had time to show me what he was workin’ on-”

“That’s my old man” Tony says, “anythin’ for a pretty face”

“shut up” she scoffs, bumping his hip with her own again, “he was a good man,” she continues, looking at Steve, “took me under his wing when my parents got sick, I was about 11, and I turned up on his door, and-”

“I told you to stay” Tony recalls, “I told you we’d go ask him together”

“yeah” she chuckles, “turns out we didn’t even have to ask, he’d already heard about the whole thing, he just gave me pat on the back and showed me to my room”

“That was a great summer” he says, nostalgic, “apart from-”

“Apart from my parents dying” Y/N laughs again, shaking her head at his expression, “yes, I suppose it was.”

“he tried to get me to stay, after their funeral” she continues, looking back at the duo on the couch, “they both did” she adds, nodding at Tony, “but, I was young, and wanted to try goin’ it alone”

“You never told me that” Bucky says, speaking for the first time in awhile.

He’d known about her parents, she’d told him about their deaths when they’d first met, and about how she’d gone back to her aunts aged 11, and been sent to a private boarding school, to finish growing up.

“You never asked” she replies calmly, “Howard kept an eye out though, he payed for me to stay at the academy, I only came back when…”

“when he died” Tony finishes for her, remember the way she’d run from a private jet and flung her arms around him, “I’m surprised the flight got you home so quick, in that storm”

She chuckles, remembering too.

“That was a hell of a storm” she agrees, recalling the harsh rain, and how it had splashed on the runway tarmac around them “It came down like bullets”

“Yeah” Tony murmurs, pawing at his goatie to hide his sudden emotion, “yeah, it did”

“I offered to stay” she tells Steve after a pause, because she knows he’s wondering, “but-”

“I wouldn’t let her, said she should go back to school, said I’d make sure it kept gettin’ paid for”

“I was so pissed!” she laughs, the light sound cutting through the air in the room like music, making a smile tug at Tony’s lips, “I had no idea the Stark’s had been footin’ the bill all that time! I thought my folks had left me a fund or-”

“The look on your face” Tony chimes in, “that was the first time I’d smiled in days”

“because I was calling you a jack-ass?” she asks, half disbelieving, “I’d been calling you that, and worse since we were little kids”

“Exactly”

Their eyes meet, and just like that, they could be teenagers again, talking about anything over a stolen bottle of malt whiskey.

Y/N shakes her head, but keeps the soft smile on her lips, even as her attention flicks back to Steve, and Bucky, who, she notes, is trying not to meet her eyes.

“anyway” she says, “to answer your first question properly, Steve- I have never been romantically involved with Tony, but that doesn’t mean being his friend hasn’t put me in some precarious situations over the years”

“precarious situations” Natasha repeats, quirking a brow at Tony, who deliberate turns away, “like what?”

Y/N shrugs,

“I was a freelancer for SHEILD too” she reminds her, “Once upon a time, and not for very long”

“That wasn’t anythin’ to do with me” Tony objects, “I believe I strictly forbid you to-”

Bucky has to disguise his laugh as a cough. He knows Y/N well enough to know that there is no surer way of making her do something, that strictly forbidding it.

Tony squints at him distastefully, but otherwise ignores him in favour of sticking his fingers in his ears and childishly chanting over Y/N’s explanation of how she had been dragged into SHEILD as part of Tony’s disobedience during his first personality screening.

“You’re such a brat” she scolds, pulling his hands away from his head, trying not to laugh at his smug expression, “and my point still stands, T, I love you too, but I am a grown woman, who can handle herself, and I am not letting you get into the habit of hiding me away in this building”

“Fine” he surrenders with a huff, “Fine, but I am tellin’ you, that if you do anythin’ to get yourself hurt, I will kill you”

“Fair enough” Y/N allows, leaning into the kiss he places on her brow, “kill me all you want”

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