Bucky Barnes X Reader
A/N: The song is Patsy Cline’s ‘Crazy’. I sang this at a karaoke bar, recently, and it’s been stuck in my head… so I figured this would be the song I would use for this fic… Hope you like it! ALSO I do the same thing as her… I totally stress bake LOL
Y/N = Your name. Y/M/N = Your middle name.
Not really a song-fic, just includes the song for the plot… unless that still counts… I DON’T KNOW!!
Warnings: She swears, a lot…? Fighting, blood, etc.
Word count: 3,340ish… oops.
Finally, some peace and quiet, I thought to myself, sitting in the empty Cryo lab that held the frozen Winter Soldier.
Things had been hectic in the last couple years. My sister, Sharon, had recruited me to sit in Wakanda with her “we don’t talk about what we are, but we are” boyfriend, Captain-fucking-America, and I was less than pleased. Before all of this, I was a 23 year old who was just starting training to become a SHIELD agent. Then, things went to shit. S.H.I.E.L.D disbanded, and I was forced to lay low, because I was another Carter associated with them. My sister had joined the CIA as a cover, and I was stuck trying to figure out what else I wanted to do with my life.
I had just started classes at a community college when the Sokovian Accords caused a Civil War. Sharon had made me go into hiding, because she was worried that I was going to get hurt. As if I didn’t know how to defend myself. Then she had to go and get herself fucking involved. She had decided it would be a great idea to help Steve, who was a fucking fugitive at the time. When that shit was over, she sent me to Wakanda to be protected with King T’Challa.
So, here I was, two years later. Sitting in the lab, again, doing online college work under an alias, with my headphones in, trying not to let the frozen soldier freak me out.
“Crazy, I’m crazy for feeling so lonely. I’m crazy, crazy for feeling so blue. I knew you’d love me as long as you wanted, and then someday you’d leave me for somebody new.”
Singing along with the beautiful voice of Patsy Cline for the hundredth time, I tapped my pen, trying to mentally prepare myself for my upcoming paper due.
“Worry, why do I let myself worry? Wondering what in the world did I do? Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you. I’m crazy for trying and crazy for crying, and I’m crazy for loving you. Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you. I’m crazy for trying and crazy for crying, and I’m crazy for loving you.”
I stared at the wall of windows, deciding that procrastination was my best bet, since I couldn’t focus. I hit repeat on my phone, singing the song again. Halfway through, I felt someone tap my shoulder and jumped, ripping my headphones out, “Jesus Christ!”
It was Steve. “What are you doing in here?”
I rolled my eyes, “It’s the only place that is quiet enough for me to do homework. Everywhere else, I feel like I am under constant surveillance.”
He smirked, “It looks more like you are singing and daydreaming, rather than doing homework.”
“What, you don’t like my singing?” I gasped, hand on my chest, feigning hurt, “And I wanted to try out for one of those TV shows. You crushed my dream, Cap. Crushed it.”
This time he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his broad chest, “You know I like your singing. I just think you should do your homework. Education is important.” He stopped his lecture, grinning, “Somewhere else, though, because guess what?”
I raised an eyebrow, “What? Is Sharon coming? That’s usually the only reason you get that pearly white smile.” I wouldn’t mind seeing my sister…
“Nope.” He crossed his arms, proudly, “Today is the day that Bucky gets out of Cryo.”
Bucky had a difficult time coming out of Cryo. He came out abruptly in Winter Solder mode, and ended up tossing Steve through the wall of windows. I was walking in the hallway when he busted out of the lab, in attack mode. I had immediately defended myself - since he decided walking with just a coffee in my hand was threatening - but his strength was too much for my mediocre training. That was, until I yelled, “Bucky, goddammit, snap out of it.” He hesitated. I had my legs wrapped around his upper arm, with his hand around my throat, but he stopped squeezing, a look of confusion on his face. In his moment of hesitation, they shot him with a tranquilizer, and he collapsed on top of me. Thank god I was flexible, because that was uncomfortable.
That was three months ago. I never told Steve that he hesitated. Bucky didn’t remember attacking me, nor did he even know who I was. Didn’t matter. I had very little contact with him, anyways, because Sharon ripped Steve a new one about Bucky trying to choke me out. I had to remind her that I had been in training with S.H.I.E.L.D before it collapsed, I was a fucking adult, and a Carter who could take care of her goddamned self.
Bucky’s room was down the hall from mine, but I barely saw him. I barely saw Steve, anymore, either. We used to eat dinner together, unless he was on a mission – but he was nowhere to be found, anymore. I had sort of relied on those dinners for human interaction, because I really didn’t know anyone in this compound. He had stood me up on at least six pre-planned dinner dates, and I was starting to get really lonely. I wasn’t allowed to leave, I wasn’t allowed to communicate with any of my old friends or go on social media, and I wasn’t allowed to call anybody. Sharon was too worried that I would be traced to Wakanda and they would find Steve. The only interactions I had were on some discussions for my online classes, and that was school topics.
One of the things that I always did when I felt lonely was bake stuff. Baking calmed me down. I spent an entire day in the kitchen. I made muffins, pies, cakes, cookies, scones, and even tried making Divinity. I was bored out of my fucking mind. It was about 9 O’clock at night before a single person walked into the kitchen, and it was Bucky Barnes.
I didn’t notice him at first, because I was bent behind the counter, looking in the window of the oven, checking on some cookies. Until I heard someone humming a familiar tune. I turned around and saw him sitting at the kitchen table with a book in his hand, munching on one of the muffins that had been on the counter. “Oh, hey, Bucky!” I said cheerfully.
He jumped, knees hitting the table, whipping his head over to where I was standing. I laughed, “Did I scare you?”
He nodded, “I didn’t think anyone was in here.” He took another bite of the muffin, “You made all these?”
I glanced at the counter, “Yeah, I went a little overboard. I had nothing better to do, today, and decided to make some sweets.”
He smirked, raising an eyebrow, “Some?”
I shrugged, turning around to take the cookies out of the oven and add the next batch. “It was either this, or continue working on my paper.” I moved the cookies to the cooling rack, “I’m procrastinating.”
He grabbed another muffin from the over-flowing counter, “Education is important.” Sitting back down, he grabbed his book, again, “From what I gather, education has gotten better over the years. You should utilize that.”
“Jesus, you sound like Steve. He gives me that lecture all the time.” I rolled my eyes, “If it isn’t education, it’s my health. He lectures me about making and eating all of these sweets, then secretly eats half of them.”
“I do not.” Speak of the Devil. “You’re the one who eats all of the sweets you make. You’re lucky you have the metabolism of a humming bird.” Steve grabs a cookie and sits across from Bucky, giving him a small smile before taking a bit of the cookie.
“Oh, my God. He is alive.” I say, crossing my arms over my flour covered tee shirt, “Captain A-fucking-merica finally has time to grace me with his presence.” I raised an eyebrow in annoyance, “Six cancelled dinner dates makes a girl very unhappy, you know. Thankfully, I’m not your girlfriend or this would have been one violent conversation. You’re lucky I don’t call your girlfriend and tell her that you have been neglecting her poor little sister to the point of stress-baking.”
“That might be my fault.” Bucky cut-in, soft blue eyes filled with guilt, “I’m sorry.”
I smiled sweetly at him, “Oh, Honey, don’t apologize. You aren’t the one who cancelled six dinner dates.” I glared at Steve, “Well? Anything to add?”
The giant shit-head was smirking at me, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you missed me.”
I narrowed my eyes, “I don’t miss you.” Yes, I do. “I just hate being stood up. Makes a girl feel unwanted.”
He frowned, standing up and walking over to me, “I’m sorry I neglected you, and made you feel unwanted.” He wrapped me in his giant arms, but I refused to hug him back. He looked down at me, “You really aren’t going to hug me back? Do I need to grovel?”
“Yes.” I pouted, even though I had already forgiven him.
“Fine.” He sighed, hugging me again, but picking me up this time, “Y/N Y/M/N Carter, I am so sorry for being a terrible best friend, and standing you up for our amazing dinner dates. Can you ever find it in your loving heart to forgive me? Please?”
I squealed, “If you put me down, consider yourself forgiven!” Jesus Christ he was suffocating me!
He laughed, putting me down and sitting back at the table. Bucky was chuckling, eyes back on his book. The kitchen was quiet, again, as Steve read a newspaper and Bucky read his book.
I finished baking after about an hour and started packing everything into Tupperware, when I heard Bucky humming that song, again. It sounded familiar. I couldn’t place it, though. “Hey, Bucky, what are you humming?”
He looked up, embarrassed that he had been caught humming, “Uh… I don’t actually know. It’s just stuck in my head.” His eyes went back to his book. “Sorry. I won’t hum anymore,” He said, quietly.
I walked over to him, handing him a cookie that wouldn’t fit in the Tupperware, “I don’t mind your humming. It’s relaxing.” Walking back over to put the last piece of Tupperware in the pantry, “I’m going to go to bed. Night, boys.”
“Night, Y/N.” Steve said, eyes still on his paper.
“Night.” Bucky said, still quiet.
I woke up to a man screaming. It was an agonized scream, and made my heart pound. Jumping out of bed in a panic, I ran down the hallway and followed the screams to Bucky’s room. The screaming had abruptly stopped when I reached the door, and I threw it open, flipping the light on. Bucky was crouched next to his bed, breathing heavy.
“Bucky?” I called softly from the doorway, “Are you okay?”
His head snapped up, and I realized that I was not looking at Bucky. I was looking at The Winter Soldier. His eyes were the same hard blue that I had seen the first time he was out of Cryo, not the soft blue ones that I had seen earlier that evening. His eyes flicked around the room, calculating, before they landed back on me, “Who the hell is Bucky?”
My heart rate picked up, and I tried to appear as non-threatening as possible. I probably shouldn’t call him Bucky, again. He might attack me. “It’s Y/N. I live down the hallway. I was worried when I heard yelling, that’s all.” I tried to keep my breathing even, looking as small as possible, but ready to defend myself if he attacked.
His eyes narrowed, but they appeared a little confused. He stomped over to me quickly, pulling me into the room and slamming the door shut. “Why do I know you? Who are you really?” He shoved me roughly against the wall – cold, metal hand pinning me by the neck – his eyes scanned me for weapons.
I kept my hands at my sides, trying not to move as I felt the panic shoot through my veins. Where the fuck is Steve? “I live here. I am just a neighbor who heard you yelling and came to check on you, nothing more.” Don’t look at him. Don’t look threatening. “Are you okay?”
“Why do you keep asking me that?” He growled, hand tightening a little. I panicked a little bit and brought my hands up to his wrist, but didn’t squeeze. “Why do I know your voice?”
My voice? I looked up at his eyes, confused, “What?”
He threw me onto the floor, my head hitting the bed frame. I yelped, crumpling into a heap as black spots danced across my vision. I felt something trickle down my face. Shit. I was bleeding from a gash on my head, hot pulses coming from that spot down my head. “Bucky, please!”
“Who the hell is Bucky?” He yelled, pinning me to the floor. Both of his hands were around my neck, squeezing hard enough that I couldn’t catch my breath. I grabbed his wrists with my hands, pulling my legs up to knee him between the legs as hard as I could. His grip loosened, and I wriggled and thrashed my way out from under him, choking on my breath as I scooted myself back. I tried to yell for Steve, but he was advancing on me, again. Using the momentum from his tackle to roll us so I was on top, I tried punching him in the face. His flesh hand came up and blocked the hit, and I used the distraction to bring the heel of my other hand to his nose. He swore, grabbing my ankle as I tried to crawl away, but I cried, “Bucky, goddammit, snap out of it!”
He froze, eyebrows pulling together, and I used that opportunity to kick him in the face, stunning him. I backed up to the other wall as he sat there - with a bloody nose - looking at his hands, confused. I took that opportunity to bring my hand to my pounding head, hand coming away sticky. My breath was coming out in pants, but I was able to talk to him calmly, “Your name is James Buchannan Barnes. Your friends call you ‘Bucky’. My name is Y/N Carter, and I live down the hall from you. I do not intend to harm you, okay? Please stop attacking me!” It came out as more of a croak, but it was calm enough.
He looked up, hair in his face and eyes shining, “Y/n? What happened? Did I… I hurt you?” Tears fell from his eyes, and he backed up to the bed, hand slipping in a few droplets of my blood from my head. “I’m so sorry.” He brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and rocking back and forth. He kept whispering “I’m sorry” over and over again, as the tears dripped down his face.
I crawled over to him slowly, trying not to scare him. I pulled myself up to my knees next to him, placing my hand on his knee, gently. “It’s not your fault, Bucky.” Leaning towards him, I wiped the tears from his face, “It’s not your fault.” I brushed his dark hair out of his face, saying it again. He grabbed my hand, gently pulling me towards him and wrapping his arms around my waist. I shifted so I was straddling his thighs, and his head was buried in the groove between my shoulder and neck. His tears were sliding down the skin on my chest and I realized how little I really was wearing, with my boy-short underwear and tank top. I paid no mind, though, as he kept his arms tightly wrapped around my middle and continued to cry into my shoulder. I brushed one hand through his hair, the other along his back, and did what my sister used to do for me when I was upset: sing.
“Crazy, I’m crazy for feeling so lonely. I’m crazy, crazy for feeling so blue. I knew you’d love me as long as you wanted, and then someday you’d leave me for somebody new.” Patsy Cline’s Crazy was the first song to pop into my head. He visibly relaxed as I continued to sing quietly, still running my fingers through his hair and along his back. His arms were still tight, but he was no longer crying. He just needed some gentle human contact. When the song was finished, I pulled back, cupping his face in my hands, “Are you okay?”
His red rimmed eyes didn’t meet mine, but he nodded. We sat like that for a moment before he looked up at my head, “We should clean that up.”
“There is a first aid kit under all of the sinks,” I said, pulling myself up and holding out my hand, “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up.” I pulled him into his bathroom and dug under the sink for the first aid kit, motioning for him to sit on the edge of the bathtub. “Let me check out your nose, then you can clean my face.”
When we were both cleaned up, I gave him a moment alone in his bathroom, cleaned the blood off the floor, and fixed his bed. Then, I ran to my room to grab my phone and put on some pajama pants. He was just walking out of the bathroom as I walked into his room, again. I smiled at him, “I’m not leaving you alone, so get comfy.”
He shook his head, “I don’t want to have another nightmare and hurt you, again.”
I held up my phone, “If it makes you feel better, Steve is on speed dial. I will call him if it happens, again.”
He nodded, too tired to fight me on it. He got into his bed, and I shut the light off. The glow from the window lit up the room enough for me to navigate to his bed, setting my phone on the night stand and slipping under the covers. I shifted so I was facing him, “If you want to talk about it, you can. Otherwise, goodnight, Bucky.” As I closed my eyes, I felt him shift closer to me, reaching out and pulling us together. My back against his front.
He was silent for a moment, arms around my middle again, and head resting between my shoulder blades. Then, he murmured, “That song you were singing… that’s the one I was humming. It’s been stuck in my head since I woke up.”
I frowned, “When you were in Cryo, I used to do my homework in the lab, but I would usually sing and procrastinate, instead.” I ran my fingers gently along his arm, “I sang that song over and over again for months. I wonder if you heard me.”
He shrugged, “It calms me down. I hum it when I start to feel too stressed or anxious.”
I clasped my hand in his, lacing our fingers together, “Well, if you want me to sing it to you, all you have to do is ask. Anytime, anywhere.”
“Will you sing it, now?” He asked, voice strained with exhaustion.
“Crazy, I’m crazy for feeling so lonely. I’m crazy, crazy for feeling so blue. I knew you’d love me as long as you wanted, and then someday you’d leave me for somebody new. Worry, why do I let myself worry? Wondering what in the world did I do? Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you. I’m crazy for trying and crazy for crying, and I’m crazy for loving you. Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you. I’m crazy for trying and crazy for crying, and I’m crazy for loving you.”