Sebastian Stan Imagines

Your Typical Porno- III

*A few years into the future*
*much progress has been made for the buckery*

I fiddle with the grocery bags, shoving them into one arm to unlock my door. The door clicks as I swing it open with my foot. The keys get hung up on their respective hook and the bags get dropped on the counter. I stash the cold stuff and leave the rest for later. Dropping myself onto the couch after a long day was always the best. I flipped through channels for a while, settling on some cliché 'law and order' type show.

A barely audible click sounded from upstairs. I shot up and inched towards the stairs. Grabbing the gun out of the drawer in the kitchen, I made way upstairs, arms raised, ready to shoot.

Was that...blood?

I heard movement in the bathroom. If I was being robbed, why the hell would they go for the bathroom first?

I step into the doorway poised and ready to shoot at a moment notice. A tall man was rummaging through the medicine cabinet. The blood was coming from his waist, where I thought I saw a bullet wound. The window in the hall was wide open and the soft night breeze blew in. Funny, I kept all my windows locked, I mean what else would a woman who lived alone in the middle of the city do?

I cleared my throat, making my presence known. He spun around, on high guard. He took a quick glance at me and visibly relaxed. Not all the way, but a lot. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he kept his mouth shut. "Are you here to kill me, or simply raid my med supply?" I questioned tilting my head to the side lightly. When he spoke, his voice was gruff and deep, as if he hasn't used it in a while.

"I'm not here to kill you-"
I scoffed, I knew who he was, and he was definitely strong, and a good fighter, but so was I.
"-I was hoping you could help me." He said holding up his arm. It didnt look like he could lift it.

"I'd be more concerned about that." I said tilting the gun to point to his torso. "Look, I could help myself but-" he said roughly cutting off. "But what?"

He undid his top and slid it off, letting it hit the floor. He obviously was uncomfortable, he definitely felt vulnerable. I stared wide-eyed at his arm, sure I'd seen it before, I'd read his files, and I'd seen him fight, but never was it up this close. My eyes trailed up to where skin met metal and I winced. It was still red. He subconsciously turned so his left side was more behind him.

"How'd you know I was a mechanic? No that sounds too... how'd you know I worked in tech?" I questioned, letting my gun fall to my side, as he didn't seem to want to hurt me. "I-uh- I was following Steve and I saw you help Little Stark out with one of his....things." I sighed. Then smirked at the nickname "little stark."

"Come on." I ordered, grabbing the first aid kit and heading downstairs.
"Sit." I pointed to the chair I'd pulled out from the island. He did as he was told. I warned him when I was going to pull the bullet out and stitched up the wound. Placing a bandage over it, to keep it clean.

"Now, let's fix that arm of yours." He turned, placing his bionic arm up on the counter.
"Grace, by the way." I stated, he looked up at me, puzzled, before responding
"Bucky." I could tell the name felt foreign to him
"It'd be a whole lot easier to diagnose this if I knew what happened." I said, looking up at the soldier.
"I had another run-in with the Captain's sheild." He stated, matter-of-factly. I knew well enough both were made of vibranium, so it made sense.

"Well, I should just be able to readjust the wiring and bend this back into place....and violá. Done. Try it." He held up his arm, moving it around, with a mechanical whir it set into place. I watched carefully to make sure I had done it right. It seemed to be working fine.
"Thank you...Grace" he said, adding my name at the end.
"Welcome. So, you're welcome to stay the night, so I can make sure you heal okay. But you're also free to leave." I offered, surprised at myself for being this care-free. I had a freaking assassin in my house, and I offered to let him stay.
"I was just about to make dinner." He looked skeptical for a minute, before sitting back in the stool.