Bucky Barnes Preferences & Imagines

But You're The Winter Solider

A/N-
Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be the bad guy? Ever wondered what it would be like to be hated on a spiritual level? Wondered what it would be like to be a serial killer...and not know how to control the things you do?
Well, this story is about you being all those things, and much more. You are The Winter Solider. Not Bucky Barnes - you. You're a deadly assassin, and (having killed over 15,000 people) you're wanted.
This story is about Bucky finding you, just as you find him in all the other fanfictions you read. Alone. Lost. Hurt. Broken. And he tries to fix you. Because he's hopelessly in love you with you, and will do anything to make you feel safe, wanted and (most importantly) protected.

~•~

"Steve," You say, backing up against the wall, "Steve you have to stay away from me!"

Steve stepped closer towards you, his hands gently upwards in a surrender, and his face calm. You had just hurt him. His cheek was slightly bruised and there was blood smeared across his upper lip; this was all because of you.

"Steve!" You shriek, trying to push him away, not wanting to hurt your best friend.

Steve just shook his head, not saying a word and took your hand in his, squeezing it softly.

"Y/N, you're not a monster." He whispered, his thumb softly stroking your palm.

You swallow thickly, knowing that Steve was as scared as you were, and that he was only acting like the brave one - as always - in this situation.

"I just hurt you Steve! You're bleeding...that was because of me!" You argue back, snatching your hand away in distress.

"No, that was Hydra!" The door opens abruptly, and you see James Buchanan Barnes, SHIELD's best spy, walk through them.

He had tanned olive skin, and thick, brown hair. His figure was also tall, and muscular, and he wore a jet black coat that went down to his waist, a dark shirt, jeans, and black combat boots.

Your eyes widened at his appearance. He looked stunning.

"Can we have a moment?" He turns to Steve, who nods calmly and leaves the room.

Bucky was now the only one in your presence, and your heart was pounding maniacally. You didn't want to hurt him. You couldn't.

"You need to talk to me Y/N! You need to tell me what's going on," Bucky says sharply, his arms folded.

He cared a lot for you, but couldn't get the right words to tell you. He was a strong spy, and felt that if the other agents in the Avengers crew found out, then he'd be labelled as a...love bird.

He couldn't have that. He had to keep his reputation strong, and his feelings for you unknown by everyone - even if that meant excluding them from himself.

"Nothing happened, James," You whisper, looking down at your clammy metal arm, and flexing the fingers.

The metal felt cold, but it was hot all the way up into your shoulder where it was brutally attached. It also pained whenever you moved it upwards and downwards, and you got a feeling like it was going to rip off. It wasn't a safe thing. It was dangerous. Just looking at it you could see the millions of innocent lives that you had strangled with no second thought, splitting up families and ruining children's childhoods.

You were a menace.

"You were screaming at Steve,"

Bucky's voice was softer now. He could see you were in deep thought, as you examined your arm. You needed help. He was going to give it to you -  no matter what.

"I hurt him...he was bleeding," Your voice cracked at this point, and you broke down into tears, reality hitting you like a bomb. You wanted to stop this...this...craziness! But you couldn't.

Bucky just hushed you quietly and you felt a large pair of comforting arms pull you closer and manoeuvre your hair from out of your face.

You sobbed into his shoulder for what seemed like a life time, breathing in his musky scent. After a while, your crying stopped, but you still felt the same, strong hate that you had for yourself, for hurting one of your closest friends.

You looked up into James' piercing blue eyes, and stayed there for a long, lingering moment. Bucky did the same, his hand now cupping your cheek, and your heart beat slowly coming to a steady pace.

Then he did it. It didn't feel forced. It didn't feel fake. It was real. Your lips moved in sync with one another, and you felt yourself get pulled closer towards Bucky, your hands now tangled in his long, brown locks.

Sure you didn't feel comfortable in your assassin skin, but in that short moment you felt safe. And you felt loved.

That was something you never really got to feel often.