Looking For a Heartbeat

Bucky’s glad Anna picked their usual pub. The place and its regulars are used to having the Avengers as customers, even if not all of them knew Tony Stark was the owner, so gushing around them was rarely an issue. While Bucky drinks his scotch, Anna sips from her colored cocktail on the stool right next to him.

“I’m still trying to figure out how you stand drinking that.” He shakes his head and makes a face, resting his glass on the counter.

“Right back at you, buddy.” She nods towards his whiskey, making him chuckle. “But, hey, no more dodging the ball.” She places her drink next to his and her face gets serious, “How are you? Really?”

Bucky sighs. The question of the hour. “I don’t know…” he tightens his lips as he gives the most honest answer he can put out at the moment, “I really don’t… Ever since she’s come back, Anna, it’s like there’s this iron shield or something around my chest.” He draw circles with his metal hand above the place where his heart his. “And everything is locked inside, inaccessible, impenetrable, it’s…it’s suffocating. I feel like I’m fucking drowning…” his voice trails off. He gulps, staring down at his feet when he feels Anna’s hand above his.

“We’ve talked about this so many times, Bucky. The possibility of her coming back…” she says, giving him a soft smile that doesn’t conceal the worry in her eyes: “You have to allow yourself to feel… whatever it is you’re feeling, whether i’s anger, sorrow, happiness, love…” Her voice is small at the last words, but she keeps speaking, “If you don’t, it’s just like you said, you’ll drown yourself. You’re past that… aren’t you?”

His brow raises and he blows out a puff of air, shaking his head. “I thought I was.”

It’s taken him some time before he allowed himself to feel anything other than guilt after you left. He knew it was his fault. He had lost you because of how fucked up he was… It was Anna who helped him understand what else he felt about that.

The anger came. He got angry because of the way you left. Because you said those things to him, making him feel unworthy, unlovable. It was only then he understood you didn’t have the obligation to be with him, but you didn’t have the right to do what you did… Then he felt sad. He allowed the feeling of dejection to surface before he admitted he missed you, and that the love he felt was still inside him. And then he accepted the fact it was over and there was nothing he could do about it, other than try and move on. He started to get better when he allowed all of those feelings inside him.

But the nightmares… they never stopped.

Then you come back and he’s back to square one.

“Have you talked to her?” Anna squeezes his hand.

“I’ve got nothing to talk to her about…” Bucky promptly and sharply answers, pulling his hand away, as if the question itself is some kind of insult.

Anna visibly flinches, placing her hand on her lap and Bucky wants to punch himself.

“I´m sorry, it’s just that… Everything has already been said, I don’t know what we would have to talk about to each other anymore.” He uses a calmer tone this time.

She nods, giving him a reassuring smile, “Has she tried to talk to you? Approach you somehow?”

Bucky then tells Anna about the episode when he found you on his bed, mentioning what you had explained to him about asking Friday to wake you up while Steve was away when he had nightmares.

“Oh, wow…” Anna seems at a loss for words for a second before she adds, “Bucky I really think you should talk to her. Maybe if you tell her how she made you feel. It would give you some closure to both of you. It’s clear she’s still caught up on you, for whatever reason.” She shrugs, crossing her arms in front of herself.

“I don´t know, Anna” Bucky lowers his head, shaking it. His voice is timid. “I don’t think I can take all of that again…”

“Then I’m here for you.” Anna cuts him off. “You know I’ll have your back. I’ll always be here for you.”

Her words fill his heart with fondness and a small smile forms in his face, “I know,” he says as he reaches for her hand once again, bringing it to his lips to place a kiss on it. He doesn´t notice how her breath hitches on her throat, as the sweet fruity smell from her perfume fills up his nostrils, making him remember the comfort she’s able to provide him. For a second he ponders how easy it would be to love Anna… easier than-

“Y/N.”

“What?” He promptly asks, his brows closely knitting together as he moves her hand away from his lips to stare at her.

“Y/N’s here.” She answers with widening eyes, nodding behind his shoulder.

Bucky tilts his upper body to look in the same direction. There you are, a few feet away from him, sitting on a small table, sipping from a glass of whiskey. Even from the distance he can see the red lipstick on your lips.

His mouth is dry. You’re sitting with your profile to him and your dress has the perfect length, clinging around your thighs, exposing your gorgeous skin. Sweat starts to coat his hands. Why do you have to be so damn beautiful? All the fucking time? Memories of the two of you together in that exact same place flood into his mind. You had so much fun there. Talking, drinking, dancing… His stomach flips inside him as he catches you laughing and touching someone’s arm. Only then he sees Nat and Wanda are there, too.

“Bucky?”

He blinks and turns to the voice calling him.

Oh, yeah…Anna.

“Are you ok?”

‘Yeah…yeah,” warmth overflows his cheeks as he lies, trying to not let the torment inside him to ooze into his voice, “Sorry.” He attempts to smile, but he doesn’t think he’s succeeding.

“Listen,” Anna sighs, downcast eyes avoiding his. Bucky can’t quite figure the reason for her saddened demeanor, so assumes is disappointment in him, “Just her presence is enough to unsettle you. I mean it when I say talking to her might be good for you, Bucky.”

He only nods, bringing his glass to his lips and gulping down the rest of his whiskey before turning to Anna, clearing his throat to try and kill the lump forming there. “I gotta go to the bathroom, be back in a sec.” He swiftly gets up and bolts away, leaving Anna and the sight of you behind.

~ ~ ~

“I swear to God, the things I had to do to talk him out of hanging a Reese Witherspoon poster on the wall…”

Tears form in your eyes as you and Nat laugh hysterically when Wanda let slip that Vision’s favorite movie of all time was Legally Blond. The fact that he had the lines memorized didn’t surprise you since he was the smartest being you’ve ever met, but thinking he would use his supreme intelligence for that was just amazing.

Nat was right. You did need a drink. And you did need your girls. Hanging with them eases down the heaviness of your heart, at least a bit, even if the place they chose was one full of memories of Bucky, of you and him together.

You almost hadn’t thought of him so far.

Almost.

Your laugh dies instantly when a particular memory of him telling you he loved you with a whisper in your ear and hand skimming up your thigh under the table flashes in your memory. While everyone around you drank and laughed, you only saw his eyes, smiles, and dirty secret touches to each other.

You empty your glass with one single gulp, before addressing your still giggling friends. “I’m gonna get more of this,” you shake your glass and get up, walking towards the balcony for a much needed refill.

“Hey, Sandy. Hit me up, girl.” You smile and hand the glass to the same bartender from all those years ago.

“Y/N, good to have you back,” she winks at you as she pours out the strong liquor.

You’re about to say something back when another female voice reaches your ears, “I already told you I’m not interested.”

Turning towards the voice, you see an obviously drunk man standing too close to a clearly uncomfortable girl…Wait, Adrianna?

“Oh, come on,” the man whines. They’re a couple of seats away from you, so you can clearly hear them. Given how disturbed she seems you keep paying attention.

“Just one drink, babe. You’re here all alone, I can keep you company.” He leans closer and you can see when Adrianna makes a face and tilt her head away from his breath.

“Fuck off, dude.” She grabs her purse from the balcony and motions to get up.

“Don’t be a fucking bitch.” The guy grabs her by the arm, making her trip on her heels, and that’s your cue.

In a second you’re behind him, tapping on his shoulder, “Hey, asshole.”

“What?” he barks, and as he turns to you, he throws Adrianna to the floor and aims a sloppy punch on your face. You lazily dodge it by tilting your head backwards and use the heel of your palm to strike up under his nose. He screeches and falls to the ground next to Adrianna, covering the bleeding nose with his hands.

“Hey, John.” As you extend a helping hand to Adrianna, you smile at the pub`s bodyguard who crosses through the small gathering of curious people to get to you.

“Asshole?” he tilts his head questioningly at you, pointing at the pathetic squirming form on the floor.

You huff and nod before he only smirks and drags said asshole out of the pub, dispersing the small circle of people around you on his way.

Finally, you look down at a dumbfounded Adrianna, who’s still sitting on the floor and has yet to grab your helping hand.

You smile. “Come on. Are you o-?”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Someone else’s hand bats yours away and your heart stops when you see him. Bucky’s inflamed eyes bore into your widened ones as he pulls Adrianna up, ignoring the calls of his name in her voice, “What the hell did you do? Huh? Stay the fuck away from her.”

He points his finger at you, and you’re speechless at his outburst. Is he…. Does he seriously think you’re the one who hurt her?

“Bucky! Stop, stop.” Adrianna takes his hand, pulling it away from where it was shoved in your face, succeeding on making him finally look at her, “Y/N was helping me. There was this drunk guy being a jerk, I fell because of him. She kicked his ass.” She looked at you and smile, “It was awesome, by the way. Thank you, Y/N.”

The shock on Bucky’s face makes the pain in your throat even sharper. You felt your shoulders dropping and the eager need to vanish from the face of the earth is suffocating. Smiling back tightly, you focus on Adrianna, not able to look at Bucky for a single second longer.

“Are you ok?” You gesture towards her arm, surprised that you managed a low, but steady tone.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

You nod and are quick in adding, “I’m glad. Take care.”

You turn around, ignoring Adrianna’s appeals for you to wait as you rush to the exit, being followed promptly by Nat and Wanda, who have seen everything from the table.

~ ~ ~

You can’t shake the look on Bucky’s face. He thought you had hurt Adrianna and you felt like a disgusting tiny insect under his enraged stare. You know you deserve it. You know you’ve given plenty of reasons to kill any trust he might have had in you.

But it hurts, anyway.

Of course sleep doesn’t come easily for you after that. This is why you’re still in your dress, barefoot, rolling a cigarette and a lighter between your fingers inside the elevator up to the rooftop. It used to be an old habit of you and Bucky before. Whenever there was a tough mission or something like that, you would share a single secret cigarette in the fresh air of the roof.

The elevators doors open. Here you are again.

Alone, this time.

After you lit up the cigarette, you set the lighter on the floor and take a deep drag, leaning your side against the nearest wall.

“Bad habits die hard, huh?”

The husky voice is what makes you to freeze, before you follow the voice and see his silhouette sitting on a bench a few feet beside you in the shadows. You can see the tip of a burning cigarette in his hands.

“Don’t you mean ‘old’ habits?” you answer, chewing on your lower lip.

“Is there a difference?” He turns his face to you, but the darkness covers part of his expression.

“No. I guess not.” You bring the cigarette to your lips again. Maybe another deep drag could do something about the tension gathering in your shoulders.

He chuckles, but there’s no humor in the sound. The silence lingers for an immeasurable moment and that relentless uneasiness you keep feeling around him nowadays insists on taking over.

Should you say something? Should you head downstairs and leave him alone?

“I’m sorry… about earlier,’ he eventually murmurs, and the words twist your guts.

“Please, don’t!” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I don’t think I can handle you apologizing to me, ever…”, you whisper. Does he hear you? Can he understand where you’re coming from?

He does hear you.

“No, I mean it.” He throws the half-smoked cigarette to the floor and put it out with the tip of his shoes, placing his hands over his thigh while looking at you, “Anna, told me what you did… I wasn’t fair to you.”

God, what you want to do is to run to his lap, hold him close to you and never let him go again, saying what isn’t fair is what you did to him, what you said, what you made him feel… But you manage to gulp down that urge and say, “Don’t worry about it, it’s ok.”

He nods, going quiet again and turning his face away from you.

Your stomach feels heavy inside you and the smoke around you now only twirls it even more, so you mimic him and put your cigarette out on the floor. You don’t think you can handle the silence any longer,

“Adrianna seems nice,” you point out, crossing your arms in front of you.

“She’s perfect.” Bucky answers simply. If he knows how much the words sting, he doesn’t show it. He’s still staring ahead and taps his thighs before getting up. “Alright, have a nice night.”

You straighten up your posture, moving away from the wall. As he walks past you towards the elevator, he doesn’t look at you, but your gaze is stuck on him.

“Did she ever tell you she’s in love with you?”

Oh… you have no idea why, but the phrase blurts out from your lips. You need to know.

Bucky stops on his tracks and before he could cross the elevator’s opened doors, he briskly turns to you. “What the fuck are you saying?” His eyes narrow at you.

“She didn’t, then… It’s pretty fucking obvious, Bucky. I just thought that she’s being so perfect, she would have told you by now,” you challenge, puffing your chest and tipping your chin up defensively when he struts towards you.

“You don’t know a single thing about Anna.” He’s inches from you now and you can see the vein popping in his neck.

His inflamed eyes don’t make you budge as you stare back at him defiantly, “And what the hell would you know about love, huh?” He spits. He’s so close, you can feel the heat emanating from his chest onto yours.

“I know that she’s perfect, just like you said.” You step closer, “And I’m not. I’m far from perfect, right?”

He sizes you up before raising a brow at you, “Damn right, you have nothing on her.” He’s about to leave, but you’re quicker, grabbing his t-shirt with a balled fist where the fabric covers his chest.

“Oh, yeah? What about you? Do you love her, Bucky?”

His attention switches from where you’re holding him to your face, as you tip your head to the side, never breaking eye contact. His jaw twitches and he blinks repeatedly, scrutinizing your face. His breathing is heavy and his silence speaks for itself.

You smirk. “You don’t.” Your head shake and you sprawl your fingers over his broad chest.

He immediately brings his flesh hand over it and instead of moving yours away, he just covers it, surprising you and himself. He has you almost trapped against the wall.

All you do is move your leg a bit up to have it hooked between his. The up and down of his heavy breathing moves both of your hands and his warm touch resounds into a coil in your lower belly, leaving your heart hammering in your chest.

“No… You don’t love her. And do you know why?” you ask.

His lips are slightly parted when you dare to bring yours closer, almost letting them brush against the softness of his. “Because love, my dear…love isn’t perfect.”

It’s a split of second before his lips are on yours.

You stumble backwards with the ferocity he uses and your back meets the wall. His hands fly to cup your cheeks, holding your face fiercely to his. You cling to his shirt, before your hands move smoothly up his chest, accepting the bruising kiss with everything you have.

While his lips moves against yours in a demanding way, sucking, nipping, your fingers find room among his locks, making him groan when you pull at them a bit. You kiss him back…urgently, violently, deeply, wonderfully. You moan when his tongue tangled into yours, urging a desperate need in your body. He presses his himself tighter against you and you can feel the evidence of his neediness growing in his movements

Despite the desperation, you’re finally at ease… finally. You belong to that kiss and, for a moment, it feels like you’ve never run away from it. From him. From his love.

Breathing is only possible when he drags his lips from your mouth to your jaw. His hands make their way down your neck until they meet your covered breasts. You gasp when he squeezes them and suck harshly right over your pulsing point, then down to the valley between your breasts, your cleavage allowing him access to your skin. He’s gonna leave you bruised and you don’t fucking care.

You want him, you need him, you love him.

Your fingers are still on his hair when he drops to his knees and buries his cheek in your belly, wrapping his arms securely around your waist. The hold around you is strong, like he’s afraid you aren’t really there. His eyes are squeezed shut while, for a minute, he only stays there, holding you that way.

The touch is painfully faint when his hands glide down your hips and he dips them beneath your dress. Panting, you prop your hands flat on the wall behind you while you watch him cautiously, slowly, like he was touching something highly valuable and breakable.

Your eyes flutter shut when you feel his fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear. They pop open and you yelp when he’s not careful anymore, ripping the delicate fabric and quickly bunching up your dress, leaving the remains of the ruined lace attached to one of your thighs.

His opened mouth meets your bare mound and he moves his head side to side, ravishing the delicate skin with messy and wet kisses, while his hands grip hard on your ass, pressing you firmer against him like he couldn’t get you close enough.

You gasp and whimper while his lips explore further, reaching your dripping folds, prompting your hands to go back to the back of his head. Lapping at you, he moans and your legs tremble. He hooks his flesh hand under your thigh and pulls it over his shoulder, opening you up for him, while his metal palm continues gripping determinedly on your ass.

You look down and what you see sparkles in your needing core. You’re completely encaged in Bucky’s grasp. His eyes are closed and he hums and groans while his face is buried into your pussy and he takes his fill of you with the same ferocity he used to kiss you a few moments before. He acts like a starved man and only you can satisfy him. You’re dripping wet and he welcomes it all, like his sanity depends solely on your taste.

Meanwhile, you’re a mess.

Your hair falls over your eyes, your skin searing hot while droplets of sweat run down your forehead. You clutch his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails, but you have no control over his movements. You just let him drink of you, wantonly, frantically. His tongue, lips, chin, nose…they’re deep into your pussy, ravishing you from your cunt to your clit and you know you’re about to explode from inside out.

You want him to have it all.

All of you.

He flicks his tongue over your throbbing clit and that’s it. Your head fall backwards and you cry out the most powerful orgasm you’ve felt in years.

It’s the kind of ecstasy only he’s been able to shower you with. His grip tightens on you and he takes what you give him, moaning through his own satisfaction, making the spurs of pleasure almost unbearable as your cunt clenches around nothing.

You still feel the aftershocks of your orgasm when he stands,looking down and furiously unbuckling his belt. You gather some energy to tilt his chin up and eagerly run your tongue over it, licking the remains of your pleasure from his face.

Tasting yourself on his skin makes your pussy ache all over again.

A long snarls slips out of his parted lips and he pulls down his pants and boxers just enough to free his cock.

You can’t help but look down and lick your lips when you see how rock hard he his in his hand. While you support yourself with your hands on his shoulders, he lifts your leg, and in one hasty move is deep inside you, forcing you a gasp out of you. He doesn’t wait another second before starting a feral pace, holding your leg up around his waist and brutally attacking your neck with his lips and teeth. Between ragged breathing and grunting sounds, your back bumps into the wall at the same pace he uses to shove himself into you.

Tears form in your eyes and you let them fall, tasting the salt when they reach your breathless parted lips.

It’s been so long… so long…

He backs away from your neck only to rip off your dress and tear your bra in half, exposing your breasts to the cold air. You dig your ankle into his hips as he covers your chest with his mouth and hands. He pinches, bites, sucks, licks… all while his hips keep snapping in a ruthless pace into yours. Reaching down, he rubs your sensitive clit, effortlessly bringing you to a second orgasm which trembles through your whole body.

He swallows your scream with his lips, before he leaves your mouth and rests his forehead in the crook of your neck, bringing the hand he used to coax your pleasure to your parted lips. You seize the opportunity to dart your tongue out and twirl it around his finger, once again reveling in the feel of yourself through him.

A deep grunt pours from his lungs and he holds himself with his metal arm against the wall as the other one leaves your mouth to grab your lifted thigh and pull your core even closer to him, his hips stall against yours and you feel the long hot spurts of his release as he finishes inside you, glueing his cheek against yours.

You both stay like this, like neither of you have the strength or the will to back away first. You can feel his heartbeat reverberating through your own chest and honestly, you feel alive. It’s like you’ve spent two years of your life looking for a heartbeat inside your chest and you finally found it with him.

A new turmoil washes over you as your body is numb, but also filled with contentment, hope, love…

After what feels like forever and too soon at the same time, you both hiss when he slips out of you and drops your leg. He doesn’t look at you when he steps away and tucks himself back in his pants, but your gaze never leaves his unreadable face.

You can’t. You can’t let him go.

The hope that has swelled into you pushes you to step towards him again and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling his chest to you again.

“I love you,” you whisper in his ear. “I love you.” You place a kiss on his cheek, and another, and another.

You’re so lost in the overwhelming feelings which have prompted your confession that you don’t notice his muscles going rigid.

You focus only on the racing heartbeat against your chest. It’s only when he tilts his head back that you see his clenched teeth and his eyes close knit together in a mix of confusion and… anger.

You start to bring your hands to caress his cheeks, but before you can touch him, he abruptly grabs your wrists and pins them firmly on the wall above your head.

“You,” he says through ground teeth, as his hot breath hovers over your mouth and unforgiving eyes burn into yours, “know nothing about love.”

He drops your arms before he turns around and swiftly leaves, without looking back.

He doesn’t get to see the shame and dejection that etches onto your face as your heart stops with an unbearable ache. He doesn’t see when you recoil into yourself and drag your body to sit on the floor, pulling up the ripped fabric of your dress to cover your breasts as fresh tears gather in your eyes.