Catch Me If You Can | Winter Soldier x reader |

CHAPTER 3

It started with a fight.

Bucky wasn't sure what he was even talking about but the conflict in his mind had begun to trigger random rage in which he would immediately target the one person he could trust that wouldn't take matters to heart- Steve Rogers. But for merely a second after tearing the curtains and shattering glass, he could see that fear flaring in his companion's eyes. And there the Winter Soldier stood; face red from screaming, staring at his friend as though the life was being drained out of him.

He just wanted to be good.

Yet, everything was dragging him back to his nightmares.

"I-" he broke off to swallow the lump growing in his throat. "I need some... time to myself."

Steve nodded, interrupting, "It's okay. I understand."

The Winter Soldier heaved a bitter sigh, and pivoted towards the door, trying his best to keep a straight face as his chest clenched. Standing on the porch, with hands in the pocket of his jacket, he could not help feel lost, like there was nothing he could do to change in his uneventful life. He swore Hydra would be gone, and now it is. He thought his lifetime would be spent chasing away his nightmares but it all ended so quickly, leaving him to think what's left to do.

He's thought about cutting himself off sometimes.

It would get that bad.

The wind susurrus as it whiffed along his side. The city was as tall and infinite as he last remembered. It always made him so small. Yet, when he passed the tiny and soiled alleyway and heard the familiar shrieking voices, he knew for a second that his adrenaline was piping up again as misgiving weaved through his mind.

Bucky pulled his hands from the pockets of his coat as he stared up at the building. He could see a young man, chewing away at a burger, looking awfully unimpressed as he stared to a place the Winter Soldier could not see. But he assumed it was the fight the teen was watching.

The hero of our story reached up the fire escape stairs of the rundown building. One by one, he threw himself up till he was at the last set of stairs, leading to the edge of the top. Bucky cautiously glanced over. The boy he had seen earlier was still there, chopping away at his food.

And then there he saw it.

He saw you.

And if it weren't only the second time he was coming across you again, he would be bashing his head multiple times into the brick wall.

There seemed to be no danger. Just a few teenagers shoving and causing trouble it seemed.

But then Bucky saw something familiar, something you were swinging in your hand, angrily. He'd seen the exact briefcase on Stark's table yesterday, which reminded him of how strangely the playboy behaved when people stood close to it.

"Stop your damn fückery, Miguel!" You hollered, holding the briefcase behind your back, "You'll get your dîck cut off and fed to you."

"I don't care; give it to me, (Y/n)! I'm tellin' you, we'll make a good few deckers if we sell this shît off!" The ginger paced towards you, his gloved hands making your heart pound out of your chest.

"I don't want money. I want to be good. And I clearly don't want to fücking die." You scowled, taking cautious steps away from him.

"Do you understand what you have in there? It's the most indestructible, most expensive substance on the planet and Stark had a hold of it. We could blackmail a billionaire. Can you imagine living your dream?"

You quirked a brow, turning on your heels, "I don't know, kiddo. I'm living my dream. And I know for a fact your dream consists of sucking on old saggy boobs. I think I'm better off taking this to Mason."