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“James Buchanan Barnes!”
Bucky winced and hung his head. He knew you were pissed when you used his full name.
He looked to Steve for help, but he just gave his friend a sympathetic smile and a small shrug before leaving to avoid your wrath. Bucky sighed and swore under his breath as he heard your heavy, quickly paced footsteps march towards him.
He put on an obviously fake smile before turning to face your charging form, his arms open for a hug. “Hey, doll!”
“Don’t you fucking ‘hey doll’ me, James,” you said through grit teeth as you fisted your hands at your sides. “What the hell were you thinking?!”
Bucky almost flinched and curled in on himself as you glared at him, your face so red he thought it might actually explode.
“Sweetheart, you don’t understand-”
“What the hell don’t I understand?! I understand that you promised you weren’t going to go on that damn mission. I understand that you broke that promise because ‘the team needed you’,” you, being the snarky little ass you are, used finger quotations, “I also understand that you could have been killed or even captured, Bucky! Who knows what they could have done to you! Tony hasn’t even had a chance to fix what they’ve done to your head before you go off and risk your life!”
“Y/n-“
“There’s a difference between being brave and being stupid, Barnes.”
Bucky was silent as he stared at you. He could see the worry and heartbreak that was etched into your features as you now paced in front of him. You weren’t as angry as before, but you were still pissed. He felt his own heart break as he stared at you. You had been worried about him, probably scared, too. He had promised not to go, but he hoped that he could leave and come back before you even knew he was gone. Bucky knew that when you worried, you felt betrayed, and that was always hard to come back from. He felt stupid and realized he probably just made the worst decision of his life.
“Y/n,” he spoke softly. His eyes were soft as he slowly reached out a hand to your now stilled form. He gently rubbed the knuckles of his flesh hand along your clothed bicep. You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed on the setting sun on the treetops. He knew you heard him. “Y/n, please. I know how dangerous it is. But I stay up at night thinking what they could do to you instead of me. I have to go. It helps me sleep and it keeps you safe.”
Hanging your head, you stared at your feet and thought over his words. You know he isn’t lying, but it still pisses you off. Buck has always been protective of the people he cares for, sometimes excessively. Others’ needs came before his own.
He could see the cogs in your brain turning. He’s seen the face before, too – you were contemplating on forgiving him or not. The longer you were quiet, the more his throat began to tighten.
“Fine,” you finally spoke up, wiping unshed tears. “Just tell me next time so I can go with you.” Bucky’s mouth began to open in protest, but you threw up a finger to stop his words. “No, Buck. I’m going next time.”
Throwing his hands up in surrender, he submitted. As he watched you walk off, a smile grew on his lips. He knew it would take some time for you to get past it, but he knew you’ve begun to forgive him.