Saving Bucky (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Chapter 5 - Dangerous Bluffs

"There you are."

A low voice soaked in a smooth South African accent, calls to you as you step out of the elevator. Your heart skips a beat as excitement trickles down your arms in static waves. 

King is back. 

"Agent," you smirk with a barely-concealed grin upon spotting Agent King, who leans casually up against the cement wall, one ankle crossed over the other and hands in the pockets of his dark dress pants. Suspenders over a neatly tucked white dress shirt holds two shoulder holsters, loaded pistols strapped in place. 

Your eyes travel over his figure, warm familiarity settling in. A towering man with broad shoulders, Agent King uses all six and a half feet of his height to command the attention of every room he enters. His strong jaw and chiseled features set him above his colleagues in looks. And even you, on occasion, have let your gaze linger in his clear, amber eyes that shine out against his complexion, several shades darker. You may not find yourself wanting or willing to bond with others. But like art in a museum, just because a painting does not move you does not mean you can't appreciate its beauty. And considering the impression he tends to leave on those he interacts with, Agent King can be considered a Monet among a sea of Renoirs. 

"Eish," he hums disapprovingly as you draw near. His eyes caress your cheek as his brow furrows in concern. "What happened to you?"

"How bad does it look?" you ask eagerly.

Agent King pushes off the wall, taking a step towards you as he leans in to get a better look at the swollen mark on your face. Reaching for it, he gently runs his thumb over what must be a cut, causing you to bite back a hiss of pain.

"Did someone hit you?" he asks, pulling his thumb away and taking in the site of the small smear of your blood on his skin. "And more importantly where should I send the cleaners? Assuming whoever did this is no longer breathing, that is."

You grin sadistically up at King and give him a small tut, beckoning for him to follow as you start making your way down the hall towards Barnes' cell. "What's wrong Agent? Are you worried about little 'ole me?" you tease.

King's gaze narrows as follows closely at your side. "I'd like to, but I know better than to try. Do you ever let anyone worry about you, Madame Interrogator?"

You chuckle beneath your breath. You've always liked bantering with Agent King. He's one of the few who doesn't shy away from you, despite your semi-regular threats against his physical, emotional, and/or financial well being. 

"So, I'm in for that domkop Ramirez, hey?" King asks, putting both hands on his hips as he arches a single brow.

"Don't get me started," you scowl. 

"I wouldn't dream of it," Agent King laughs - a low, booming sound that echoes around the corridor. "The man is a moron. I was shocked they partnered him with you at all."

"I'm shocked he made it back from Tel Aviv without my shoe up his ass," you grumble.

Agent King laughs, another warm, rumbling sound that pours over your shoulders and wraps around your arms, pulling a genuine grin from you despite yourself. 

"Y/n, you know I'm always happy to help you out. In fact I prefer working with you when I can. But you know you had me pulled from a tight situation, right?"

"If you're upset complain to HR," you say, stopping a few paces short of Barnes cell and holding out your hand. "I'm sure you'll enjoy the paperwork. Now, give me your sunglasses."

"My sunglasses?" he asks, reaching into his back pocket and handing them to you without hesitation. "Why?"

"So many questions today, King," you scold, snatching them from his hand.