(Bucky x Enhanced!Reader)
You hated Bucky Barnes.
Bickering, fighting. Childish arguments. He set your teeth on edge. Being on the same team drove you insane. Being stuck on missions was hell.
Yet here you were.
He liked to push you. Tell you that you were immature. Unqualified. You were currently suiting up, getting ready to head out. Already mid-argument as you made your way to the jet.
"You're irresponsible," he taunted. "Totally reckless, Y/N," he huffed and you tossed you bag in your seat. "Well so is Rogers, but no one gives him shit," you replied and he rolled his eyes, flopping down in his seat.
"Just one mission," Steve pleaded. "Just one where you don't want to kill each other." You dropped into a seat and closed your eyes, propping your legs up. "No promises, Old Man."
Hovering over the drop point, you attached your harness. He was eyeing you and you turned to look at him. "What's up your ass now, Barnes?," you sighed and he shrugged, looking away. "Nothin'," he replied and you shook your head.
Giving him a wink and the middle finger, you flung yourself from the plane backwards. "She's a real pain in the ass," he told Steve. "Yeah, well," Steve shrugged, grabbing his shield, "she saved my ass."
"Yeah. But who saves hers?," he muttered to himself.
You landed, opening the cache and grabbing your weapons. Steve dropped down beside you and you noted his lack of parachute. "Show off," you mumbled just as Nat landed, followed quickly by Bucky.
"Gotcha, Betty," he hummed, tucking his blade into the sheath and you laughed. "You named your knife?," you asked in disbelief and he nodded. "What, Y/N?," Nat scoffed, shaking her head and she pointed to the two pistols now in your hands. "What's that?"
"Pancho and Lefty," you grinned.
Steve closed the door of the facility quietly behind him once the four of you had made your way in. "How many?," he whispered to you and you stood, focusing. "I count five up here," you told him. "I can't get a read on the rest of the place."
Steve nodded. "We'll split up. Nat with me he said and you groaned audibly. "Come on, Cap! You can't be serious," you complained and Bucky scoffed. "Not thrilled myself, Sweetheart."
"Can I get Sam? Put Barnes on the roof, Rogers! You can't leave me with this fuckin' dinosaur," you whined and Steve groaned. "Ah, sorry Pops," you grinned, "still can't handle the ol' f-word, huh?," you teased.
"Just get the job done, Y/N, Buck," Steve sighed and grabbed Natasha, heading the opposite way. "And try not to kill each other."
You reluctantly made your way down the long, dark hallway and you could feel him behind you. "Try to not do something stupid, Y/N...," he whispered and you let out a breath, cocking your gun.
"Can you shut up for like, five minutes so we don't get murdered, Barnes?"
Bucky groaned but followed as you made your way quickly down, searching for the server room. You wanted to get the job done and get the hell out of there. Hopefully as fast as possible.
"We've reached it," you said softly into your comm. "Good," you heard Steve respond. "Get in. Get out. And Buck? Watch the door. Make sure she's uninterrupted." Bucky simply hummed a response, turning his back to you, his gun raised.
"Just get the damn job done so we can leave," he grumbled and you rolled your eyes. "Yes, Sarge," you said seriously, saluting him. "Anything for you, Sarge." It was Bucky's turn to roll his eyes. "Don't be a pain in the ass Y/N. Just get shit done."
You shook your head and pushed the door open, letting it lock behind you. It was dark and you fumbled for the switch. Your heart stopped, feeling a hand around your wrist. "Scream and I cut you open," a voice whispered and you felt a blade against your side.
You took a breath, weighing your options. You knew you could call for help, but whoever it was would certainly made sure you didn't. You could fight, but your eyes hadn't adjusted to the dark. But before you could make a decision, a blow to the head knocked you out.
Bucky was tired of waiting.
Checking the time, you'd definitely been in too long. You always were in and out, incredibly skilled, whether Bucky would admit it or not. He was always secretly impressed by you.
"Goddammit, Y/N," he sighed, pulling his knife from the sheath, flipping it in his metal hand and used it to pop the lock on the door. "Y/N! Let's go!," he whispered loudly. The room was still dark, eerily quiet. Panic washed over him.
Reaching blindly for the light, he finally flipped the switch. His heart stopped. A small pool of blood covered the floor. Your knife and gun were discarded to the side, along with your broken comm unit. He searched frantically, hoping by some miracle you were still there.
He closed his eyes and took a breath. How had it happened? He'd been outside, couldn't you have called out for him? He leaned against the wall, trying to collect himself.
"Steve? Y/N...she's gone."
