A short Reader x Bucky romance!
Takes place in an AU post Winter Soldier (also post Age of Ultron), where Bucky was found and brought back to be a part of the Avengers while they work to squash pieces of HYDRA that are surviving underground.
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A hoarse, muffled scream woke you from your REM sleep, and you sat straight up on the couch, still holding the remote with white knuckles. You shook the sleep from your heavy limbs and followed the pained sounds in intervals, all the way to the training room. The sight made your heart twist in your chest.
He was in the middle of the room, where you had both sparred days earlier. He was laying on his back without a shirt on, every muscle in his body was tense and twitching. Strangled screams ripped themselves from his chest between his heavy breaths. His face was streaked with tears. It didn't look like he'd changed or showered since you had returned, he was streaked with dirt and a sheen of sweat covered his entire body. You wanted nothing more than to rush to his side, but you let your better judgement take control, as you moved slowly towards him. Another heart wrenching scream left his lips as you stood over him, his eyes squeezed tightly together. You knelt by his side, whispering his name.
"Bucky. Bucky sweetie it's okay. You're safe." You held your own tears of sympathy in and moved to put your hand on his arm comfortingly. Instantly his eyes flew open, blank and cold, his strong hands lurching to grip your wrists painfully. Your heart thudded in your chest, your hands beginning to feel numb.
"B-Buck," you stammered quietly as your eyes started to fill with tears. Recognition spread across his features and he loosened his grip as he sobbed your name. His voice was hoarse and gravelly, and all too soon he was screaming again. You placed your hands on his scruffy cheeks, rubbing your thumbs over his cheekbones, wiping the tears from his eyes. You talked to him gently as you lowered yourself to the mat, his vibranium hand under your hip. You rolled him onto his side to face you and took his face in your hands again, pressing your forehead against his before pulling his head into your chest. He smelled like winter and sweat, gunpowder and sex. Mindlessly running your fingers through his sweaty, matted hair, you stared blankly at the wall, slipping into complete sensory overload.
He convulsed the entire night through. Sometimes he screamed. Other times it felt like he might squeeze the life out of your weary body. You didn't realize you'd been tense until your body was so physically drained you were forced to relax. But you did not sleep. You didn't know when your hands started to shake or when you'd moved as close to him as you could for warmth in the cold room. All you knew was that the golden light leaking through the windows was the biggest relief and in that moment you closed your listless eyes.
