Marvel Imagines ;)

bucky - broken

(Slight smut warning at the end)

Being an Avenger was sometimes rather difficult.

But what was even more difficult was trying to balance Avenging with your need for movie marathons. Nobody on the team really understood your affinity for stories. When it was a slow day at Avengers Headquarters, you always had your face in a book, or were catching up on some TV show on your phone while eating lunch. The only person that seemed to somewhat understand your passion was James. Or, Bucky, as he had requested you call him at least three times since he had joined the team.

On this particular night, you had declined going out for drinks with the team so you could binge the newest season of Game of Thrones. You just weren't a social creature by nature, unlike the rest of the team. You supposed that was probably why you sometimes felt so separate from them, when things like this came up.

It was better that you stay home. You could choke on popcorn when a particularly intense scene happened (which happened to you far too often) without having an audience. Plus, you were terrible at parties. You always ended up leaving before midnight.

You were just getting settled on your couch, about to press play on the final episode, when you heard a frantic knocking on your apartment door.

Rather than going for the loaded gun strapped to the underbelly of the coffee table, somehow you ended up grabbing the lamp.

You swiftly checked the time on your phone. 3 am. Nobody should have been knocking on your door at 3 am.

You creeped towards the door, muscles so tense you thought they might snap. You were an excellent fighter, had taken down more enemies than you bothered to count, but, as always, fear managed to burrow it's way into your chest.

But as soon as you peered through the peephole on your door, your fear was silenced.

Bucky.

Without even thinking, you swung the door open, a different sort of fear overcoming you.
What if he's hurt, what if someone on the team's hurt, what if -

" I know it's late, but I just - I needed..."

The opened the door wider, stepping aside to let him in. Bucky breathed a sigh of what you could only assume was relief when you closed the door behind him.

"You can sit on the couch," you said as you placed the lamp back on the coffee table, hoped he wouldn't notice.

"Were you really going to attack me with a lamp?"

Damn it.

You turned to the super soldier, crossing your arms over your chest. "I'm an Avenger, James. I could take you down with literally any object in this apartment."

"Bucky."

"Right, Bucky. Sorry." You mentally cursed yourself. "So..." You began as Bucky slowly lowered himself onto your couch.

"I'm sorry this is so out of the blue. I was having a really bad night, and I didn't know where else to go."

"Why not to your super spangled soldier buddy?"

Bucky didn't laugh; he didn't even crack a smile.

"I try not to bother Steve with things like this. He already has so much on his shoulders... I don't want to add to that weight."

You considered Bucky's words, and nodded. Truly, you understood. Better than anyone. Hell, hadn't you been hiding from your team because you didn't want to ruin their fun when they were out partying?

You took a seat next to Bucky. Close enough to be friendly, with enough space between you two for it to not be intimate.

"What's going on?" You asked softly.

"Well, you obviously know that I recently joined the team," Bucky said, actively avoided eye contact with you. "And I appreciate what everyone's done for me, in Wakanda, and here, but..."

"You're safe here, Bucky. Nothing you say is going to leave this room."

"I just-" he paused to run a hand through his hair.

"Wanted a fresh start?" You finished for him.

"Yeah." Bucky slumped, eyes slipping from yours to his hands, clenching and unclenching in his lap. "But sometimes I feel like I've run out of chances to make things right."

"You never run out of chances, Buck. In fact, you don't even need chances. Every day you're doing what you can with what you have. All Steve wants is for you to be in a good place, a better place. That's all anyone wants."

"How do you know that?"

"Because that's what they wanted for me when I joined the team."

Bucky finally looks up, meeting your gaze, and your stomach flips strangely.

"Like you, I was being used by bad men as a weapon of mass destruction when they found me. Rather than killing me, they decided they wanted to help me. Our friends seem to like broken things."

Bucky didn't respond. His lips were slightly parted, and you realized with a start that the space you intentionally put between you two had disappeared.

"Every day was a challenge. All I could think about was how I didn't deserve any of it: a home, friends, maybe even a family. It's still really hard sometimes, to block that voice out."

"How?" Bucky asked, face only a few inches away from yours. "How do you keep going?"

"I tell the voice to fuck off," you said, smiling. "That usually works."

Bucky huffed out a surprised laugh, turning his head away from you slightly. You didn't let him get too far, placing your hands on the side of his face and bringing his lips to your own.

It was sweet, and soft. At first.

Then you moved your lips against his, and Bucky growled, hands moving down to your waist to pull you closer to him. Somehow you ended up in his lap, straddling him. Bucky kissed your jaw, moving down to your neck and sucking a bruise there, but before long you brought his face back up to claim his mouth once more.

"Y/N," Bucky breathed when you both came up for air. "Maybe we should slow down."

You began pressing open-mouthed kisses to Bucky's throat (planning on marking him the same way he had marked you earlier). Bucky groaned when you shifted your hips, brushing against his...

Reality washed over you swiftly and harshly, and you paused.

"Right," you agreed, slowly getting off of him.

"It's not that I don't want to, I mean look at me," Bucky gestured to the obvious tent in his pants. "But, I like you. And I want to take you out on a real date before we do anything."

You nodded, pressing your knees together in a futile attempt to hinder the growing ache between your legs.

"So," Bucky said, trying to fill the awkward silence. "Can I ask why the fuck you're wearing a onesie that says 'winter is coming'?"

A/N
So, apparently it's impossible for me to write something short (even a one-shot). Sorry if you guys like short chapters, I just don't want the book to feel in any way rushed. On a side note, I think I'll be updating every 2-3 days, and the next story is going to be a Reader x Loki, so you have that to look forward to.

(Sorry this one was kind of terrible)