Hey guys! Here’s another one. I’m kinda screeching, I’m really excited about this one. I’ve been waiting to post it and I hope you like it. Thanks to all the new followers and tag listers for reading and to all the regular readers and comment leavers. You guys are really the best! Happy Sunday!
No Warnings, just cuteness.
Today was your day off. You, Steve, and Bucky were all excused from the mission today because the three of you hadn’t had a day to relax in a couple weeks. And boy, were you excited to unwind after a month of non stop missions.
You enjoyed your perfectly regular morning in the tower. You woke up, ate breakfast, trained with the boys, showered, and now you were sitting in your favorite spot on the couch reading a book. Bucky and Steve had done the same and were now watching a movie.
You were sure an outsider would laugh at the three of you. While you were nestled into the corner of the couch, neatly folded under a blanket, the two men took over the other side of the sofa. Steve was hugging the armrest, his head leaning on his fist with his legs attempting to touch the other side of the room, while Bucky was slouched next to you, his legs open in a deep v while he absently ran his flesh fingers over the seam of the cushion. They were peas in a pod, those two.
You felt your eyelids slipping closed while you turned the page of your book. The whole team had been up late the night before, fooling around and sharing a bottle of Tony’s high quality liquor. He insisted on opening it, who were you to refuse a good drink?
After reading the same paragraph for the third time, you gave into your heavy eyelids and weak limbs. You closed your book and placed it safely next to you on the couch. Snuggling under the blanket, you allowed slumber to overtake your busy mind.
Next to you, Bucky had heard your breathing slow and simmer. He stole a glance your way and couldn’t stop the grin that was invading his features. In the back of his mind he knew you were one of the few who wasn’t afraid of him. You trusted him enough to let your guard down around him, which gave him a sad hope that maybe others would soon see him as less of a monster.
His eyes wandered from your closed eyes, to your slightly turned up lips, to the fuzzy blanket hiding your frame, to the cover of the book you were reading. The bright orange sleeve told him it was another Harry Potter hardback. He chuckled quietly. He had seen you read this one a couple times. He guessed it was your favorite.
He shrugged and carefully slid the book away from you. Time to see what this prisoner did, he thought. But he was surprised to see a contrasting title on the first page.
Recovery: Managing Post Traumatic Stress
Bucky felt his heart sink. He didn’t know much about you, only that you were a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who joined the team after the agency’s untimely fall, and simple personal things that he learned through his growing friendship with you. You adored Harry Potter. You fell in love with any animal you ever saw. You were from New York. You had a brother. But that you were hiding some sort of PTSD? That one you never mentioned.
Against his better judgement he flipped through the pages. Gravity forced the pages to fall until he reached a dogeared page, one that the deep crease in the binding suggested you had studied. His finger hovered over the first page of a chapter on nightmares.
Bucky’s stomach flipped. He prayed to whatever was out there that you weren’t having nightmares similar to his. His eyes flew down the pages, looking at words you had scribbled in the margins.
have a routine, journal, music, chew gum after
The pencil of your neat cursive was smudging, but he could still read the faded words. He recognized the tactics to calm a victim of nightmares.
He wondered why you were keeping this all a secret. Didn’t you know you could talk to him about this? You really felt like you had to hide a self help book behind a Harry Potter binding?
He felt his bruised heart shatter. You poor doll. He didn’t want to bombard you with questions or betray your trust. So he told Steve to do it.
That afternoon, there was a soft knock on your door. Without ceasing your cleaning, you invited whoever it was to come in.
Steve leaned on the door frame with his bulging arms crossed over his chest, his face one of concern.
“Oh, boy. What’s goin’ on?” You teased once you looked up and saw his nervous state.
His expression lifted as he chuckled. His sad blue eyes fell to the floor as he shook his head. “That obvious?”
You hummed in confirmation as you tossed a shirt into the hamper against the wall.
You knew something was coming when he let out a deep sigh. You sat on the edge of your bed and waited for him to find the right words.
He joined you on the duvet. “(Y/N), is everything alright? With you? Are you okay here?”
Woah, three questions at once, he was really worried.
“Yeah, Steve I’m good. Why?
“Uh, um, We just-I, um…” You giggled at his struggles. He was obviously tip toeing around something big.
“Steve, spit it out.”
“Your Harry Potter book… isn’t a Harry Potter book.”
You closed your eyes and sighed. Caught red handed. You felt him stiffen next to you. You opened your eyes and gave him a reassuring smile. You weren’t angry at his snooping, honestly you should have been more careful about it. At least Bucky didn’t see it, you thought.
“It’s not mine. I-I mean, it’s not for me.”
He cut you off. “(Y/N), you don’t have to be shy about this, we all-”
“No really, Steve, I’m good. It’s not for me, it’s for, uh, it’s for Bucky.”
Steve’s brows met and the creases in his forehead deepened, encouraging you to explain.
“Umm, a few nights back, I heard Bucky screaming in his sleep and… I couldn’t do anything. So, I got this book about PTSD so, maybe I can help.” Your words we slow and deliberate. This was the first time you admitted to yourself why you were doing this. Most of the time you tried to stay out of Bucky’s business but seeing his nightmare tear him apart changed your mind.
Steve just nodded and stared at the floor like he didn’t know what to say. Finally, he looked up at you from his bent position and thanked you.
You understood. You knew how much Bucky meant to him. “Just don’t tell Bucky, okay? I don’t want him to take it the wrong way. I may be crossing a boundary here.”
Steve nodded and braced himself on his knees as he stood up. After sauntering to the door, he touched the top of the frame and said, “You should tell him.”
Steve left you alone in your room and you continued your cleaning. You knew you should tell Bucky. You just didn’t know how to.
Later that night, you were making yourself a cup of tea when you heard Bucky call your name.
Your response was covered by F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s. “Miss (Y/L/N) is in the kitchen, Mr. Barnes.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the AI. You still weren’t used to having her around.
You brought the steaming mug up to your lips and puffed on the liquid, trying to cool it down. You heard heavy footsteps coming toward the kitchen and you waited for his appearance.
He landed in the kitchen, slightly winded from his jog through the tower.
“Hey you,” you threw your usual greeting his way as you placed the mug on the counter before it burned your hands.
“You-” he stopped himself. When your eyes lifted to his you saw him shaking his head incredulously.
It was then that you noticed his expression. His chest was still rising and falling at an unusual pace, his cheeks pink and his hair tousled. His eyes were still and wide. They held something you couldn’t quite place.
Your eyebrows lifted, inviting him to explain himself.
“You’re somethin’ else.”
Shit. He knew about the book. Shitshitshit. Time to come clean.
“Listen, I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry, Bucky, I just wanted to help you.”
Then he was coming after you. But, instead of yelling at you for invading his privacy and patronizing him, he wrapped his arms tight around your shoulders and landed a kiss to your temple.
“I’m not angry, sweetheart,” he sang.
You sighed in relief and relaxed, hugging his waist.
Over Bucky’s arm, you saw Steve peeking his head around the corner to watch the two of you.
“Steven Grant Rogers.”
You unwound from Bucky’s embrace, but felt his hand remain on your hip. You tried to ignore the fire on your skin as you glared at Captain America hiding behind the door.
“Can’t keep a secret for his life,” Bucky mumbled loud enough for Steve to hear.
“Secrets aren’t American!” you announced with allegiance.
“Secrets aren’t righteous or patriotic!” Bucky caught on and helped you tease Steve.
“I’m leaving now,” Steve grumbled as he made his way down the hall to the elevator.
You giggled and turned back toward Bucky. You tried to act nonchalant as his fingers reached to coddle your waist. “But seriously,” you started counting on your fingers, “They say writing your nightmares down helps, and you should have a routine before you go to bed that calms your mind, and I don’t know why, but having a jar of coffee beans near your bed helps, I guess they’re supposed to ground you-”
“The coffee grounds ground me?”
“No, no, coffee beans, the strong smell-” You stopped in your tracks when you realized he was teasing you. You couldn’t help but laugh along, but you slapped his chest for good measure. His smirk brought a red blush to your cheeks.
He leaned down to you until his lips were almost touching yours. “Thank you.”
His breath fanned your face and you drowned in his arms, his scent completely intoxicating. You couldn’t even feel your feet on the floor.
“I could use a jar of coffee beans right about now,” you whispered.
Bucky chuckled and closed the distance between your lips. He was like candy, you couldn’t get enough. His lips were soft and warm, smooth. Your tongue reached out to taste more of him, and he gladly took you in.
You felt like you were dancing, your tongue with his, your hands grazing across his body, his strong arms supporting you and pulling you closer and closer until there was no air between your bodies.
When both of you were panting, the only area of your bodies that parted was your lips. To make up for it, he dropped his forehead to yours. When the world stopped spinning around you, you leaned back in his arms and smoothed his hair in your fingers.
You finally knew what his eyes had been telling you all along. He loved you.
You gazed into his baby blues and then traveled to his pink cheeks and his puffy lips. It was like you were looking at a new man. He seemed at peace. Happy.
“Hey, you,” you whispered.
He shook his head. “You’re somethin’ else.”
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