//WARNING: CURSING, NO REAL RELATIONSHIP (YET, POSSIBLY ANOTHER PART COMING?)//
//NOTE: I haven’t really written in this point of view before, it was kinda difficult, LOL. But It was inspired by the song in bold below, click the link to listen to it while reading. Love you all!//
WORD COUNT: 2,170
Bucky walked into the party and looked around. Tony Stark was very well known for his frequent gatherings, but this was the first one he had gone to. Gorgeous women and alcoholic beverages were in abundance, and he saw the other Avengers scattered around the room having a blast.
But this wasn’t his kind of scene. He still hated large crowds and lots of noise, which were the two things this party was made of. But Steve had thought it would be a good idea for him to socialize with some other people, so here he was. “Alright, Buck. Get a drink, say hi - just try, okay?” Steve said, smiling at Natasha, who was across the room, and placing a reassuring hand on Buck’s shoulder. However, when Buck winced at the unanticipated contact, he removed the hand.
“Alright, I will. Thanks Steve,” Bucky mumbled, just loud enough to be audible over the music - That’s What I Like by Bruno Mars. So no one listens to swing anymore? He thought to himself. Everything had changed, it was still odd to him.
His eyes kept trailing aimlessly around the room until they stopped on someone. She was gorgeous in a tight fitting dress with an asymmetrical sleeve. She threw back her head and laughed, and Buck cracked the smallest smile. He wanted to make her laugh more. He turned around to ask Steve who she was, but he was gone. He looked around the room and saw him standing over there by Natasha, laughing at something she said. He began walking over to ask him, and then he remembered what Steve had said. Say hi, he thought to himself. He turned back to the girl.
What do I say to an angel like that? He kept eyeing her and then quickly looked away when her eyes met his and she smiled. He felt a warm feeling traveling through him, butterflies in his stomach, and a blush rising up to his cheeks.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her turn to her friend and then back to him, and then - oh God, she was walking over. Fuck. What to say, what to say? You’re gorgeous? Shit, no, that’s creepy as hell. Come up with something - too late. She was practically in front of him now. “Hello. James, isn’t it?” She said in the kindest voice.
Buck turned to her and immediately gulped. She was even more beautiful up close. He hoped the lighting would conceal the red blooming on his face. “Yeah - but, uh - everyone just calls me Bucky.” He told her, smiling sheepishly. She looked at him in confusion at the mention of his nickname. “My middle name is Buchanan, so everyone just says Bucky or Buck. It’s shorter.”
“Oh. Well my name is (name).” The girl chimed happily, ignoring the obvious awkwardness of the situation. “I saw you looking at me, you know.”
“Oh - shit, sorry, that probably seemed really creepy,” he laughed weakly and returned his gaze from her face to the floor. “I was just - uh… admiring your makeup.” What the fuck Bucky?! That’s not only a lie, it’s weird.
But she just laughed light-heartedly. “My makeup, huh?” She asked, obvious amusement in her voice. “Thanks I guess. Anyway, uh - I’m going to go back to talking with my friend. It was nice talking with you, Bucky.”
She turned away, and Buck watched her as she went back to her friend, walking head held high, never avoiding a gaze. That confidence - God, that was the confidence he wanted. Not only for himself, but also for the woman he ended up being with. And now I scared her off, Bucky thought. I’m such a mess.
A few hours later, the party was still far from over. If anything, there were just more people there… although a lot more were drunk or passed out on the couches in the lounge. Bucky had now made himself comfortable at the bar, and he stared at the ten empty shot glasses in front of him. He raised his fresh glass and downed the 11th. The bartender blinked a few times in amazement. “It’s the serum,” Buck told him. “I can’t get drunk.”
“O - okay. Another?” He asked, and Buck was about to say ‘one more’, but was interrupted.
“Two more, please,”
He knew that voice. He turned and saw the angel from earlier, the one he had supposedly scared off. “Uh - hi. (Name), w - was it?” He stuttered, scratching the back of his neck and summoning up enough courage to offer her a weak smile. Although he wasn’t sure if it was liquid courage or him finally manning up.
“Yeah, (name). And I know your name was Ja - Bucky. Right?” She replied, the beautiful smile on her face never faltering. When Buck nodded quickly, she continued. “I was wondering, after we finish this drink, wanna dance?”
“Wha - me?” Bucky asked, shock taking him over. The bartender tried to conceal a smirk and failed. He backed a step or two away from the counter when Buck shot him a glare. “Uh - why would you want to dance with me?”
“Because I think you’re cute,”
Oh my God, no fucking way. Okay, Bucky calm down, she probably is doing this on a dare. Just… just keep smiling. Laugh a little bit. Turn her down. “Well - uh, I wouldn’t want to step on your toes,” he objected, slapping himself internally. Why was he turning down someone like her?
“Wanna know something? I’m not very good at dancing, either.” She giggled and raised one eyebrow, downing her shot. Buck quickly followed and downed his. “Maybe we could go on a walk instead? It’s really loud in here, my ears need a break.”
“Uh - sure.” Bucky, what are you thinking? You’re can’t walk in awkward silence the entire time. You’ll have to say things… just… oh God, but she’s so amazing. I can’t turn this down.
“Alright, let me just tell my friend I’m gonna be gone for a sec,” she said before hurrying off to where her friend was sitting.
“Okay, I will, too…“ He said to her retreating form.
In a few minutes, Bucky and (name) were out on the streets, the music of the party fading off behind them and the sound of cars honking and motorcycles revving getting louder.
When Bucky had told Steve, Natasha, and Sam why he was leaving, they had all shared a look that said 'oh, wow, he actually got a girl’, but hadn’t said anything except ‘good luck’. Buck now rolled his eyes at the thought. They were so annoying sometimes, but life would be weird without them.
"I’m surprised Mr. Stark doesn’t get in trouble for how loud he plays the music,” (Name) remarked, and then laughed. Buck smiled.
“Well what’re they gonna do, sue Tony Stark? That’s just asking for trouble,” he rolled his eyes thinking about the arrogant being named Tony Stark.
“Yeah, that man is a whole nother thing on it’s own.” She huffed. “But don’t tell him I said that, him being my boss and all. I’m one of his assistants, I’d get fired pronto.”
“My lips are sealed.” Bucky promised, letting out a little laugh. He felt (name) looking at him and stopped to meet her gaze. “What is it, did I say something?” He panicked, taking a step back from her.
“No, no! I was just thinking, your real laugh is really nice,” she calmed him down, reaching up and tucking one of his long brown chin-length locks back behind his ear. “My God, Bucky, why are you so panicky? I bet you a hundred dollars you could get any girl you wanted if you had a little more confidence.”
“I don’t want to get just any girl, though,” Buck smiled a little bit and looked at the ground. (Name) nodded in understanding and grabbed his hand, taking him in surprise. However, he didn’t flinch or move away, her hand intertwined with his was nice… it was his metal one, too… and she didn’t even react to how cold it was. She just kept smiling, her eyes sparkling in the street lights and headlights of cars.
“Come on, let’s go to my apartment. I brought my bag, so I’ve got keys,” she told him. They started moving, but Bucky stopped her. “Hmm?” She asked.
“Why - uh, why would we need to go to your apartment?” He asked nervously. Was she going to try and have sex with him? He wanted it, but he didn’t have a condom, would he have to ask her for one? Oh God, oh God…
“Oh, no, no. I just thought we could watch a movie or something, I’d like to get to know you better, and it’s hard with all of this ambiance,” she told him once she had read the look on his face, raising her hands up. Buck smiled. She looked around, as if nervous someone was watching them, and then whispered, “I also said ambiance because it sounds smarter than noise.”
Bucky lost it at that, letting out his real laugh. He immediately felt a blush raising to his cheeks when he was done laughing. “There’s that laugh,” she said, smiling and putting her hand back in Buck’s metal one. The light pink dusting his face quickly darkened to red, and he hoped she didn’t notice.
“Alright, Mr. Bucky. We have The Lion King, Tangled, The Jungle Book, and Brave. Which one do you want to watch?” (Name) proclaimed when she walked into the living room, holding four DVD cases. Buck smiled.
She had changed into some pajamas, the top having a certain person’s shield on it and the bottoms having some red and white stars on them.
“Aren’t those all Disney movies?” He asked.
“Yeah. So what? I love Disney, I don’t care that I’m an adult.” She laughed, placing them out on the coffee table in front of Bucky and heading to the kitchen. “Now for food!” She pulled out bowls and bags of candy, chips, and some soda cans.
It took her and Bucky a few trips, but soon Cheetos, Doritos, Fritos, (God, they all end with ‘tos’don’t they?) Skittles, M&Ms, and Hot Tamales were all laid out in bowls on the coffee table. “Presenting you with a feast!” (Name) told Bucky as she set down the last bowl.
Buck laughed. “You’re so cute.” He said, without thinking. He immediately regretted it when he felt the blush rising up to his face. He sighed to himself. Bucky, you’re such an idiot.
“Thanks, you’re cute, too.”
Okay, he should have expected that. After all, she had called him cute before, right? But it was a relief. “Alright, have you decided which movie you want?” She asked, sitting down close to Buck on the couch.
Buck’s heart was beating hard. “Uh - uh, Tangled,” he said hurriedly.
Halfway through the movie, (name) had passed out with her head on Bucky’s chest. He had carefully moved her so her head was resting on a pillow and then covered her with a blanket folded over the back of the couch. He turned off the TV and the lamp in the corner of the living room as well as putting the bowls of leftover candy and chips in the kitchen. He was going to leave, but he decided to do something else first.
He found a notepad in the kitchen along with a pen, and he scribbled down something before slipping out of the apartment.
(Name) woke up and looked around. Shit, she had fallen asleep. Where was Bucky? After a drowsy sweep of the apartment, it was obvious that he had left. She sighed. It was a shame, she would have loved to make breakfast for him. She smiled when she saw a sticky note stuck on the fridge.
At the bottom it said: This is just in case you want to finish watching Tangled with me sometime. Don’t be shy to drop by the tower and ask for me. Sorry for being so awkward, I just get flustered around beautiful girls. - Bucky.
What a sweetheart, she thought as she proceeded to make her breakfast. Once she had laid out some cereal and orange juice for herself, she took her cellphone and entered Buck’s number in carefully. A rather groggy Bucky answered. “Hello, who is this?” He asked.
“(Name). I just wanted to tell you, you’re awkwardness - that’s part of what I like about you. It’s cute,” she said, a smile on her face. Buck couldn’t see it, but he could hear it in her voice.
“Well, maybe I can be a little more awkward with you at dinner tonight?” He asked, nervousness in his voice.
“Of course. I was wondering when you’d ask.”
“Alright. tonight at 6:30, meet me in the lobby of the tower?”
Jaylin Rogers has always struggled with being the daughter of Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, mostly because of her lack of freedom. After a failed attempt to do something about this, her life is changes forever when a shadow from her father’s past returns to haunt her.
‘Dad. Dad!’ My fists ruffled on my father’s bedroom door. There were muffled steps, and the door was yanked open. Dad towered above me, his gaze fixed upon me, his face frozen in an empty yet haunted expression. I felt my heart almost stop – I had never seen him like this before. ‘They’re here…’ I croaked. Alongside dad I hurtled towards the runway, fearing what I might find there. My brain told me it was out of the question a happy outcome was waiting for me, for there didn’t seem to be a happy outcome possible for me or my dad. Tragedy seemed to run in our blood. ‘Sam!’ I gasped, running up to the winged man. ‘Sam, did you-‘ Sam caught me as I skirted to a halt. ‘Easy, Jay. Yes, we’ve got him. Alive,’ he hastily added, when my fingers dug into his arms. My nails scratched his armoured suit, and a thin layer of skin scraped off the tips of my fingers. ‘How…’ ‘We’ve had to sedate him. He’s pretty beaten up, though. He put on quite the fight.’ Sam glanced up and met dad’s eyes. Dad nodded stiffly. His eyes were far away, somewhere 70 years ago, I guessed. It was not difficult to guess; I remembered the story he’d told me, about a bruised and bloody Bucky he’d saved from the Nazis. A Bucky who could barely stand on his own legs. Perhaps he even thought back to a small figure slipping through his hands, tumbling down a mountain’s side. I knew I did, even without having witnessed it. Dad had just stepped closer to us, so he stood shoulder to shoulder with Sam, and I carefully moved nearer to dad, who put one hand on my shoulder. Sam tightened the group even further by taking another step towards us when Natasha appeared, all bruised and beat up, with her hair a hot mess. She was carrying one end of a stretcher. Her elegant hands were wrapped tightly around the metal bars. With careful steps she moved closer to us, until the person on the stretcher came into view, along with Tony, who was carrying the other end, still in his suit, though without the helmet covering his face. He lay still, Bucky, on the stretcher. His body was limp; his arms were bound to each other and his torso with thick metal bars. His face was cut and one of his eyes had just started to turn purple, accentuating the depths in his face. Even his feet were tied, emphasising the danger this man could pose. With every step Natasha and Tony took, my stomach twisted even further, until the nausea nearly made me be sick. I had to constantly remind myself he wasn’t dead, that his chest was clearly moving up and down, but still… this man had been imprisoned for so long it was unfair they’d have to tie him up like this, like a captured lion, or a wolf. Then I remembered Sam’s words: “He put on quite the fight.” I could only imagine how much effort it must have cost them to bring him here without getting killed themselves.
We followed in an odd parade. Sam kept glancing at me and my dad with tremendous worry in his eyes. Half way I tried to smile, but when I failed miserably I just turned my face away, so I could concentrate on the path ahead. Bucky was lifted off the stretcher inside a bright white room with almost nothing in it, except for the chair -like contraption that held Bucky in its metal clasps. There was a mirrored wall, though, which was see-through on the other end. Bucky still hadn’t woken up, though Sam reassured me that wasn’t anything to worry about. Then again, I thought, he’d lived for what, a hundred years? Most of which, I had figured, in ice. He should survive a brawl with “friendly” forces.
The ones that had retrieved Bucky left, anxious to remove their gear, take a nice hot shower, and probably eat something as well. Natasha, it seemed, also needed a bit of patching up, as she was the one who usually received a lot of the punches, due to her expertise in close-contact fighting. Thankfully, all her bones were intact, and most of her skin as well. Natasha’s injuries would’ve only made this situation worse.
‘You’re going in, aren’t you?’ I asked in an awfully calm monotone voice. Dad’s shoulders tightened up, as if all the muscles contracted at once, preparing for hand-to-hand combat. His blue eyes skirted all around the room behind the glass, without once looking at me. Obviously, his mind was already inside; only his body had yet to follow. Jerkily, his chin moved down and quickly up again. It was a strange nod, like he suddenly didn’t know how to nod anymore. ‘I have to.’ A statement, definite and clear, which spoke of a guilt inside every fibre of this body. A guilt I understood. Thus, I watched him open the heavily armed door, halting just before he stepped across the threshold. Once more I could see the blue of his eyes directly and noticed a dangerous conviction seeping through his hopelessness. A sudden burst of ice rose inside my heart, racing through my veins, crawling underneath my skin. My mouth opened, ‘Da-‘ but he was already gone.
White condensation formed on the reflective barrier between me and the super soldiers. My face was pressed up against the glass, and my hands whitened from the pressure I exerted onto the surface. I tried to obtain as much information as possible from my father’s pose, for his back was turned on me. Broad shoulders concealed his old time friend from my view, and his fair head seemed neither tilted up nor down. Warm hands rested upon my shoulders. Immediately, my heart jumped out of my chest, screaming, “Run! Get away!”. Instead, I repeated, “It’s only Sam. It’s only Sam,” over and over in my head. It had become a little habit of mine; chanting their names – of those people I trusted, of the people who cared for me – like a divine spell to vanquish the evil housing in my heart. A fear which never really seemed to leave. A quick glance back was enough to register my favourite version of Sam; a Sam wearing a simple grey shirt, jeans and checked blouse of faded colours. He looked so normal and stable. Admittedly, his wings were awesome and they made him a fierce fighter, but they made him Falcon. Just like the shield made my father Captain America instead of Steve Rogers. Naturally, I wholeheartedly preferred the people underneath the suits. At last, dad began to move. His foot left the ground, as in slow-motion, and tilted while the knee bent, before it hit the ground a couple inches further. Outside this heavenly white prison it appeared mute – Bucky’s eyes flew open. Rapidly the pupils adjusted to the ferocious light – they focussed on my father’s figure, paralysed, his left foot halfway off the floor – and the tied up body began to thrust. His face contorted as he tried to free himself, while the bonds strained underneath his inhuman strength. The lamps’ illumination bounced off the silvery metal of Bucky’s prosthetic arm as it clenched and flexed and tested the strength of the cuffs holding it in place. ‘Bucky, Bucky, please!’ My father’s voice brought along another shockwave, almost draining out the first one, caused by the blue appearance. ‘Bucky, you know me! We were friends! Remember, please!’ But it was all in vain. Even from where I was standing, I could see none of the words reached the ears of the captive. The pleads were as useful as promises of no harm to an animal stuck in a trap. There was nothing I wanted more than to turn away, to push my burning face into Sam’s shirt, with my hands pressed to my ears, draining out the sound of nightmares – somehow, I couldn’t. My eyes were glued to this heart-breaking scene. Images arose, like they often did. Of a chair with bonds, of pain and agony. Of fear and anguish. ‘Jay,’ I heard a worried whisper, ‘maybe you should go.’ ‘No…’ I protested, clenching my fists together and keeping my mind anchored to the present. ‘I can… I can…’ though what I was capable of, I never knew. For at that instant, my father raised his hand. His posture had barely changed since Bucky’s awakening (though perhaps his shoulders had slumped a little) and some of the reassuring power he carried had vanished. There was something in his hand; a small device, obscured by his powerful fingers. Abruptly, his thumb pressed down. Nothing happened. I blinked, surprised – perhaps a little relieved. Then, as my eye slid back to Bucky, I noticed how his movements had slowed down. Some of the vigour had left him, and gradually, all energy seeped away. Lastly, his eyelids fell shut. Shocked, I stared blankly ahead. Dad’s lifted arm lowered slowly, until it hung once again next to him. He didn’t turn around just yet. First, his shoulders moved up, stayed high for a couple seconds, and sank down again. Only then my father rotated his body, so I could see his face again; it was stuck between the same shock I was experiencing and a unsettling stoic calmness. The expression remained as he left the cell, carefully locked the door behind him, and faced me and Sam. ‘Dad,’ I began insecurely, my voice low. I wanted to say something to reassure him, to relief him from some of the pain he was going through. I reached out, and gripped dad’s hand which didn’t hold the calming device. ‘He’ll come back, dad. Your Bucky. I came back, didn’t I?’ Dad’s fingers curled around mine, thankful for the support, and also slightly desperate for a comforting touch. ‘They had you for weeks, Jaylin. They’ve had him for decades.’ And you’re not the same Jaylin either, his eyes seemed to ad. 'It’ll work,’ was the only thing I knew to respond. ‘It has to.’
“Ok Bucky you got this how hard can it be.” *He fingers the velvet box in his jeans and pushes his hair back nervous.* “Just be natural and calm otherwise it could fail horribly. I mean you don’t have a ring yet you’re working on it but the thought counts right plus you gotta feel Sam out to see if he wants it anyway so worse comes to worse you can get everything done this week and ask him to marry you next week or not if he says no to getting closer.” *He opens the door and sees two dogs playing with each other in the living room. The new dog barks at Bucky and begins to nuzzle him.* “What the…a magic anon?”
___________ *Sam the dog barks at him having no clue who Bucky is. He just knows Bucky smells good and feels familiar.*
“Oh I’m doing just peachy well that plan went into the drain. Sam can you understand me? Nod your head if you understand me.”
_______ *Sam the dog stares at him blankly.*
“Ok great…well I guess this is a bad time but I can practice. Um Sam…no wait Sam you’ve been the best thing in my life will you marry me? Hey no tugging on my shirt.”
*Sam the dog wants to play and Bucky gives up before playing fetch with Sam and Anastasia.”
“Thanks for the birthday wish and I don’t think so? I don’t know I know the way I met Sam the first time was bad but I think it would be weird if we didn’t met that way? To be honest I don’t think I would have ever gotten the nerve to start dating again after the whole Winter Solider. I would feel too dangerous and I still do some days but Sam makes it better you know. It’s like he knows in some ways what I’m going through. He’s never been brainwashed but he knows trauma from war and I don’t think I could have found that with someone. I would have been too cautious to start anything and even if it was someone who had been through the current war I still would feel I would be the more dangerous one and hurt them so I would have chosen to be alone for safety reasons…Sam has a way of getting rid of those thoughts and making me laugh that I don’t think anyone could have done the job better.”
“Oh so now I’m a job is that it.” *He teases Bucky.* “I see how it is.”
“Gee whiz I get all sentimental and have to deal with your smart ass comments.”
“Oh Boo Bear you know I’m only messing with you. Come on it’s movie night.”
“Well it’s difficult sometimes to be away from each other and we always worry about when the other will come home.”
“I snap chatted with Sam while in battle once…I think my phone butt dialed him or something anyway all he saw was black and heard gun fire until I realized my phone was on. I gave him a bloody face smile and said ‘life of being an avenger see you soon babe.’ Yeah it was kind of bad.”
“Kind of bad? I got that chat in the middle of the night and couldn’t see you or hear you and then you show me your bruised face and say see you soon like you’re out getting groceries.”
“Well we kind of were in a way…we were getting that tech from some bad guys so kind of grocery shopping.”
“You know.” *He laughs.* “You make it difficult to stay mad at you.”