Irrational

Chapter 21 - His girl

-a few months later-

You’ve been dating Bucky for the past few months, making Strange’s life a living hell and loving every second of it.

The squirming during meetings, the obvious avoidance of being in the same room as you or Bucky, the glares and the disappearing acts.

You were definitely under his skin and he couldn’t stand it that he wasn’t the one in control anymore and you were thriving off it. Plus being Bucky’s girl wasn’t bad either.

“Do I get you tonight or am I losing to Pietro again?” Bucky’s husky voice carried over you’re the top of you, as you were cuddled into his chest, blinking your eyes open and trying to be a functional human.

“Pietro” is all you manage to croak out, as you bury yourself against his neck and wrap your arm around his broad chest.

You feel the vibrations and short sharp rises and falls of his chest against you, as he chuckled at your pathetic attempt to answer his question.

“Not even surprised. Get some more sleep darling, it’s still early” Bucky says in a soft, caring whisper, followed by a kiss to the top of your head and stroke of your hair.

You flicker your eyes open and glance at your clock on your bedside “03:30” you wince at the time and then you feel it.

The heat radiating from Bucky, the dampness of his skin and the tight grip on your shoulder. You mimic the grip around his chest and lightly kiss his neck.

“I’m okay, you talking helped me” Bucky instantly responds to your movements.

“How bad was it tonight?” you ask with caution but an obvious tone of worry.

“Stark” a single word to make your entire body shiver, your hairs stand on end, your stomach drops, and you could feel your throat becoming dry.

You sit up, pressing gently against his abdomen as leverage to push you up, but the beefy man below doesn’t even feel it.

You look at him with furrowed brows and saddened eyes, slowly filling up. Which was only made worse when you got a proper look at him.

Pale, sweating, barely breathing, his face full of guilt, fear and regret.

You throw your leg over him, so you are straddling him and grab his face, asjusting him so he would make eyecintact with you. You notice his currently empty and darkened eyes focus on you and bring him back to reality.

As you turn his face, you can see the light switch back on inside him, the darkness still lingering behind the ocean blue purity of his eyes.

“That wasn’t and isn’t you. It’s not your fault and you need to stop punishing yourself. Tony forgave you, he understood, you made amends the day you saved him from his own demons Buck. You don’t need to feel this guilt anymore. You hear me?” You state it with such conviction, saying it as a matter of fact, because you truly believed what you were saying.

Tony suffered as badly as you did because of New York, leading to all kinds of drama with him creating Ultron to save and protect the planet only for it to be a sociopathic, dramatic mass murderer. Wanting to wipe the planet out of existence.

He also suffered from the anxiety of it happening again, of him nearly dying, of us nearly losing.

Bucky helped him with that over the years, talking about how he pulls himself out of the dark periods, or how to avoid triggers and manage the pain of the memories.

Bucky looks at you, you can see his eyes searching yours, him searching for something in you, then he utters “what did I do to be so lucky to have in my life” as he leans forward wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against him.