Tattoo (Bucky x Reader)
The living room was filled with laughter as Tony, once again, attempted to lift Thor’s hammer from its resting spot on the floor. He was entirely too drunk to remember all the other times he had tried and failed to do this exact same thing. Even with the iron man outfit, it wouldn’t budge. Tony shuffled his feet and wobbled a bit as he walked back to the bar, grumbling about smoke and mirror magic tricks. Thor laughed as well and swiped the hammer to show off his swing. Everyone else had kept their wits about them and were at least a little sober. The two super soldiers were, of course, stone cold sober, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves.
You grinned at the sight. When Bucky had come to the tower, things had been a bit rough. Tony didn’t trust him at all, but it had been the only way to persuade the others to move back in. Steve was constantly worried about him feeling unsafe or triggered and may have smothered Bucky too much. Bucky was terrified of hurting someone and nearly everyone’s reaction had reinforced those feelings. Eventually, everything had calmed down. The whole team trusted Bucky to have their backs in missions and to share a living space afterwards. They bonded with him over silly interests, and his memories of Steve. Steve relaxed, and stopped putting subtle pressure on Bucky to be exactly the same as he remembered, even though most of his memories had been restored. Even Tony greeted him politely and ate with him once and a while.
You were discovered by Tony after the fighting was mostly finished. Your powers to manipulate mental states was apparently valuable. It took a while for him to convince you to actually join because you didn’t like using your powers for negative things. After attempting to upset a bully in middle school but causing a full blown anxiety attack, you had seen the terrible potential of your manipulation and refused to force negative thoughts on anyone else. You had gotten a job as a therapist and used your abilities to help people with their mental illnesses without being too extreme that you caused harm or got noticed. That didn’t stop Tony though.
He practically dragged you to the tower and tried to persuade you to join. Bruce took your side and lectured Tony about pushing people into doing things that are uncomfortable. Eventually, you were convinced to help the Avengers heal from their traumas, and were promised practice controlling your powers with Loki. Bruce almost immediately let you calm him down when he got angry or after he Hulked out. Tony, hesitantly, allowed you into his mind and, although he acted like nothing bothered him, you could see the relief and relaxation that your sessions brought. Instead of having panic attacks and nightmares, he could actually sleep peacefully and be alert during the day.
When Bucky came into the picture, he was skittish about being around anyone who wasn’t Steve or Sam. He warmed up to the kid, Peter, quickly because his superhuman strength meant he would be able to hold his own if Bucky did go full Winter Solider. Your calm demeanor and lack of judgment grew on him and when he gave you permission to work with him, you enthusiastically obliged. Within months, the brainwashing and PTSD had been diminished to a very low level.
And then he asked you on a date. You desperately wanted to say yes. He was such a gentleman and a good conversationalist. He was also very attractive. Initially, you disagreed. Despite the fact that you weren’t even attempting to act as a therapist who listened to personal stories and therefore, you hadn’t seen anything too private, you felt wrong dating a patient. Finally, Bucky convinced you, by insisting he wasn’t being taken advantage.
Now, you had been dating for a couple weeks, taking it slow. “Would you mind if I slept in your bed tonight?” he whispered in your ear. You looked over at him, a little surprised because he was usually a little old-fashion, and saw that his fingers were twitching and his eyes were rapidly scanning the room. He was nervous, and not the jittery dating kind, more like panicked. Earlier on, you had learned that touch grounded him when his head started to spiral. “He probably just wants some cuddles and someone to wake him up from nightmares,” you thought, happy that he was so comfortable with you. You leaned on his shoulder and nodded reassuringly, “Bucky, would you mind helping me hang a picture in my room? I want it higher than I can reach.” You asked quietly, but loud enough for others to hear, hoping to diminish some of the teasing Bucky might’ve gotten otherwise.
“Anything for you doll,” he smiled, relieved for the out, and helped you stand from the couch. You walked upstairs together, holding hands. He took a shower and changed into his PJ’s in the bathroom. When he came out, you were midway through changing. You were in your sleep shorts and had just removed your shirt to reveal a black bra. He pointedly looked away and blushed, but you could see his eyes drifting back toward you. “Cute,” you thought before realizing what he was staring at, “Shoot, my tattoo.”
A jellyfish covered in intricate patterns sat on your sternum and stretched down and under your breasts. The tentacles and most of the head were visible in your underwear. You hadn’t exactly mentioned it to Bucky before, especially considering his shocked reaction to the small ankle tattoo he’d seen on Tony’s secretary. Tattoos hadn’t been common when he was around, and he wasn’t quite used to the idea of permanent body modification. You anxiously tried to gage his reaction, but his turned head made it difficult.
“I don’t mind if you want to see,” you suggested. He waited a few moments and then faced you, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to watch you change. I...” He tapered off when you gave him an encouraging look, “I don’t mind, and I know you haven’t really seen many tattoos so go ahead.” You tried to hide your nerves, and flashed a smile. “I think it’s beautiful,” he murmured and automatically lifted his left arm. He silently asked you and you moved closer to him, giving your consent. He moved his arm again but, realizing it was his metal arm, he jerked his arm back. “Sorry,” he sputter and lifted his other arm. You put your hands on his metal wrist and, giving him time to pull back, you placed his hand on the end of the longest tentacle, “I love your touch. It’s always appreciated.” His hand twitched, but after a second, he was alright.
His eyes showed strong emotion as he traced his finger along the tattoo that wasn’t too close to your chest, “It really is beautiful. Why this one?” Your face must’ve betrayed some sadness because he backtracked, “I mean, only if you want to tell me. You don’t have to do it.” “My father’s passion was the ocean. He loved all the marine creatures and the bright colors of the plants. His favorite were the jellyfish. He could watch their fluid movements for hours. When I was old enough, he took me snorkeling and diving whenever he could,” you held back a sniffle, “after he died, I would take the boat out and just submerge myself in the water. It was so calm and quiet. You could just relax there and get lost in an underwater world.”
You both fell into thoughtful silence. He wrapped you up in a hug and you both went to bed grateful for the other.
Months later, on your birthday, you opened the door to your room to reveal a large painting of a serene underwater world. There were brilliant corals, starfish, and a pod of jellyfish. You went breathless at the sight. “Do you like it?” your boyfriend inquired, “I asked Stevie to paint it for you.” You grinned, “I love it.”