Hi guys! I’m sorry I’ve been missing for a few weeks. It’s been a little crazy but I’m all yours now! I have so many new ideas for fluff (and a little smut) and I can’t wait to get busy writing for you guys. Thanks for stickin with me. I hope you enjoy this one! Happy Tuesday!
Warnings: angst that ends with fluff
Summary: After a near death experience on a mission, Bucky realizes just how much you mean to him.
“Buck you okay up there?”
“An engine just blew out, so I’m gonna say no.”
“It can still fly with two engines-”
“How about one?”
“Yeah, one engine, Steve. They blew out two, now I have one.”
There was silence on the other line.
“Steve, can it still fly with one engine?”
“Just get outa there, Buck.”
“What do you think I’m trying to do?”
Alarms were going off all around him now, telling him he was losing altitude. Fast.
“Buck, you gotta get her back in the air.”
The line went quiet, the only sounds going through to Steve’s end were the explosions and gunshots coming Bucky’s way. Steve felt himself going hoarse through the com.
“Buck, are you there? BUCK!”
After an eternity, Steve finally heard a familiar, calm voice.
“I’m here. Back in the air. ETA 1:50am.”
“Jesus. Alright, see you soon.”
Bucky signed off the com and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
Needless to say, the mission he had been on with Sam didn’t end as planned.
It was planned that he and Sam would split up, making Bucky the last to leave the HYDRA base on a one man quinjet.
It was not planned that he would be under HYDRA fire, alone in a flying-sometimes-invisible thing he had just learned how to use two days ago.
The mini jet was a lot harder to maneuver than a WWII tank, he decided as he allowed the auto pilot to take over so he could catch his breath. Apparently he needed another flying lesson, something he was sure Sam would relentlessly tease him about later.
He leaned back in the pilot seat, breathing deeply to try and slow his heartbeat to the normal pace. He couldn’t help but think of how weird it felt to be on the other end of a HYDRA weapon this time.
The half-hour back to the tower went quickly as the jet glided seamlessly through the air until Bucky had to take back the reins to land. He was not very proud of the bumpy landing he executed, but was happy to be back at the tower.
Steve and Sam met him at the door.
“Hey man, I’m sorry. I thought I had ‘em all on my tail so you could get out. I had no idea-”
“It’s alright Sam, I’m out now.”
“And not a scratch on ya.” Sam tried to lighten the mood.
Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, but the jet wasn’t so lucky.”
The three men looked back at the machine, its tail end practically in shambles.
“Tony’ll fix it, don’t worry.” Steve reached out a hand for Bucky to shake, then pulled him into a one armed hug.
“You really gave us a scare, Buck” he said as he pulled away. His Captain America composure cracked as he thought of what could have happened to his best friend.
“Just keepin’ ya on your toes, pal.” Bucky gave Steve a calming smile, though even half an hour later, it felt like the adrenaline was still rushing through his body.
He started to shed his weapons and belts, hanging them in their places on the wall and throwing them in drawers. Before he could continue upstairs to his room Steve stopped him with a hand to his strong shoulder.
“You should go talk to (Y/N). She was pretty worried about you and left before you came back on the com.”
For once in his life, Sam was somber. “Wanda’s up in her room with her.”
Bucky knew exactly what that meant. He nodded to the men in front of him and started up to your room.
Before he could think too much about it, he opened the door to your room, making eye contact with Wanda as soon as light poured in from the doorway. His eyes then drifted to you, your frame curled into a ball under the blankets.
As he stared at you, it hit him. Steve had said you had gone up to your room before he could make contact again. She thought her best friend was dead. He thought.
Wanda heard his thoughts. “That’s why I came up with her.”
“You used your powers on her. To clam her down.”
He looked back down to you and his brow furrowed when he saw your arm sticking up out of the blankets. You were wearing a red shirt, clearly too big for you.
“Is that mine?”
“It calmed her.”
“It smells like you.”
Oh. He thought.
When Bucky walked closer to the bed, he saw what a toll the thought tragedy had on you. Black lines were drawn down your cheeks from your tears dragging your makeup away from your eyes. Your skin was bright pink and swollen, and your breathing shallow, the aftermath of sobs wracking your body.
His stomach flipped as he imagined what awful thoughts plagued your mind earlier that night. He couldn’t stop his brain from rolling clips of your possible reactions to hearing him yelling on the intercom about falling out of the air.
Suddenly the scene was playing like a movie in his mind. He saw you run into the room and slam the door, saw your knees break in half right before you crumbled to the floor, heard your cries echo off the walls, screaming his name-
“Stop!” he whispered with his hand held up to Wanda.
He looked back at you and cursed the tears threatening to fall down his face. “I’ll stay with her.”
Wanda started out of the room and Bucky turned to her. “Thanks for helping her.”
When Wanda silently left the room, he lifted the blankets and slid under them, lying down on his side to face you. He gently pushed your hair away from your face and ran his fingers down your cheek, wiping away the black lines from your makeup with the pads of his fingers. He saw his presence already calming you, the line on your forehead easing, the corners of your lips turning up from their frown.
He smiled to himself as he looked at you in his shirt. He knew it was your favorite color. I should just give it to her he thought as he enjoyed your familiar scent mixing with his from the shirt.
Trying not to wake you, Bucky slid his arm under your head and rolled onto his back. In your sleep, your body subconsciously molded to his, draping your arm on his stomach and resting your head on his chest. He felt your entire body relax as a soft sigh left your lips.
He watched your head rise and fall with his breath and wondered how in the world you cared about him so much. He didn’t deserve it, after all the things he’s done. You were so warm-hearted and sweet and he was such a monster. It was amazing how you have accepted him, how good of a friend you were to him.
A few minutes later Bucky fell asleep holding you.
The next morning he woke up with you still in his arms. His long limbs were coddling you, his face resting on your shoulder. His first conscious breath was welcomed by the scent of your hair.
Glad he woke up first, he pulled away from you and sat up in the bed, leaning his back on the headboard. He didn’t know how you would take waking up to your best friend, who you thought was dead, wrapped around you.
He absentmindedly ran his fingers through your hair and patiently waited for you to wake up as he wondered whether or not he should trust what he was feeling. He did almost die, which can cause one to be irrational. And thinking he was in love with his best friend was, indeed, irrational.
He watched you stir, flipping over to face him. He grinned, holding back a chuckle. You were awake, you just refused to open your eyes. He knew you were not a morning person.
“(Y/N)” he said, keeping his low, gravelly voice soft so he wouldn’t startle you.
When you opened your eyes, he could see you taking him in. He watched your confusion, your awe, your sadness turn into joy and relief.
He watched your eyes until they were glued to his neck while your arms were wrapped around him in a tight hug that made the stars align. Your body molded to his perfectly, like he was made to hold you.
After a moment, he felt his presence hit you like a truck. As your sleepy brain realized he was alive, he felt you shake and gasp for air as you held back tears.
“You’re never leaving this tower again,” you laughed, after his soothing voice calmed your wines and tears enough for you to speak.
As his body shook with a chuckle, you leaned back out of the hug, putting enough distance between the two of you so Bucky could see your face, wet with tears and covered by your bed head hair.
He smoothed your locks and wiped away the streams of tears, comfortable in the silence until he realized you were straddling him. Attempting to keep his composure, he continued to nonchalantly caress your hair, focusing on how you felt in his hands, instead of how you felt on his thighs.
He felt ridiculous just sitting there, staring at you, but he couldn’t make himself move away, you were like a magnet.
He knew you too felt the draw when your fingers were brave enough to lightly fondle his cheek and glide down his shoulders to rest on his chest.
His strong hands found your hips and felt the familiar fabric of his shirt covering them, reminding him how much you cared about him and giving him the courage to cup your cheek and pull you in to kiss him.
Your lips were precious and soft, perfect. Your kiss was gentle, but sent fireworks through his body. He laughed when he felt your lips curl into a smile.
“What? You have to almost die to finally kiss me?”
“You could have kissed me first” he grumbled as he pushed you on your back and braced your fall with his strong arms, his lips latched onto yours the entire time.
The ringing of your giggles drifted out into the hall, alerting the avengers that once again, all was right in the tower.
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