This Is Stella's Reality

August 23, 2014

The quinjet whirred close to the ground, vibrating like a purring cat. Bucky's arms scooped me close to him, and the door hissed open, revealing dust flying around wildly outside. The sky was turning a brilliant blue and stars twinkled to life in the growing night sky.

My head lulled to rest onto Bucky's chest. I had fallen asleep on the jet, exhaustion and a migraine from the lack of oxygen claiming me. The other boys were talking around me, but the fog hadn't left my brain enough to pay attention.

I looked up to stare at Bucky. Overhead bright white flood lights blinded me as I blinked up to gaze over his handsome face. He was talking to Bruce whose hands were moving around as he and Bucky had an animated conversation. They nodded, and Bucky carried me inside. His arms were firm under my knees and neck.

It was silent in the compound. "JARVIS," Bucky's voice was soft in the still air, "lights on in the hallway and my bedroom."

"Right away, Sergeant."

Bucky's boots marched across the tile floors and up the flight of stairs. He was moving me quickly down the hall.

My finger tapped against his chest, "Buck?"

He smiled down at me, the hallway lights illuminating his gentle features, "Try not to speak, doll. Banner said it'll make the pain worse."

I nodded, coughing with the effort of just saying his name.

We ascended the stairs, Bucky pushing open the door of his bedroom, closing it with his foot behind us. It was a loud sound that made my ears ring.

He set me down on the bed, "Can I undress you?"

My cheeks were surely flushed. There was no way he didn't notice it. He hovered over me, a soft smile dancing across his lips. I nodded, not wanting to strain my voice but also afraid of how meek I would sound.

It was attractive, the way he always asked what he could do to me, but it made me incredibly shy. Embarrassed to give permission or ask for more.

His fingers unclasped my black cape, and he lifted my back off of the bed to remove it. I heard the heavy material thump to the ground next to us. He scrunched my black turtleneck over my head, and let it drift to the floor. My boots struggled to come off, but they clattered down along with my pants.

Bucky squeezed my comms and helmet devices out of my ear, setting them on the table beside us. He unclasped the hooks of my bra and smiled, "Oh, I forgot. I have something for you."

He moved to his closet and picked up a baby pink box and gave it to me. Inside was a bra, identical to the one Bucky had literally ripped off of me.

I smiled up at him, trying to stifle a laugh in my throat, fearful of the pain. Bucky seemed pleased with my reaction, leaning down to kiss my forehead. He was sweet, a gentleman despite his appearance and flirty nature.

But this didn't feel very friends with benefits of us.

He moved back to the closet and tossed me a large t-shirt from a hanger, and I squeezed it over my head, cuddling into Bucky's pillows. He had mountains of them, plush and soft. They made me feel like I would disappear into them, sinking below their surface.

Bucky crawled onto the bed and hovered above me. I could feel his eyes scanning my face. I couldn't meet his gaze. I felt too embarrassed by the vulnerability, needing to be saved on a mission, that Bucky was the one to save me. I knew I shouldn't be. This was work, things happen, we look out for each other.

I think he sensed my turmoil, and he plopped down onto the bed, curling around my back and bringing me to his chest. His metal arm held my waist firmly, and I could feel his body vibrate as he talked, "You know I would save you over and over again if I had to."