Avengers/Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes One Shots (Open for Requests)

#Bucky: Am I Worthy

#Bucky Barnes X Reader requested by 

A/N: I'm literally the worst writer ever. This request has been submitted ages ago (I'm not exaggerating. It could have been a decade ago and I cannot tell you how guilty I feel right now *cries) I have been so busy with A-levels it's unrealD: Anyway, here's the request and it's written in Bucky's point of view cause why the heck not:) Love y'all! x

P.S. Shout out to @Mrs_Margaret_America ayyyy:D Her BuckyXReader one-shots are amazingggg!

Idea: Bucky runs into a girl and here comes the twist: She doesn't love him back! *hints* there may be a part 2 where she changes her mind;)

Bucky:

I hold onto my flesh arm with my metal one. The bleeding has slowed slightly, but I'm still a mess, and the pouring rain honestly isn't helping at all. Stumbling further down the dark alley, I glance up at the night sky with a scowl. The air is chillier than an average September night, and I haven't had something proper to eat in ages. With my trained calculation, I can foresee myself just starving to death in some unknown alley with an infected wound. 

I'm really growing used to complaining, aren't I?

It doesn't take me long to figure I should just take a break from all the walking that I have been doing today. A Hydra agent has found me this afternoon, hence the bullet grazed wound on my arm. If I have to be honest, I have been lacking in combats. But that's only because I barely have enough rest or food. I will have to figure that out if I want to survive on my own before going to Steve and reclaiming the best friend that Hydra has wiped from my memory.

I grunt in exhaustion, wincing when I drop myself onto the wet ground and lean against my only companion: a tall recycling bin. 

Rain drops continue to beat on my mess of hair. The rainwater on the floor is soaking through my trousers but I honestly don't give a damn about it anymore. Fluttering my eyes close, I take comfort in the momentary darkness that my eyelids provide-

The door from across me smacks open. Jerking awake, I leap onto my feet and is ready to launch myself at my attacker. Except, instead of a malicious Hydra agent, the most beautiful girl has stumbled into my sight.

Her (Y/H/C) hair is the first thing that I see. Then my hesitant gaze darts to her pale face under the flickering streetlight. Her wide eyes grow wide, and I can see a scream bubbling up within her. "Please," I start quickly in vain. I can't afford to expose myself in the middle of a night like this, when I am hardly standing upright on my feet. "I'm not a bad guy." 

I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty amused that I can still communicate with words, since lately the closet thing I have been doing to socialise is merely fighting off all those Hydra agents or whoever is after me. The girl in front of me stills, her glassy eyes drop as they roam over my appearance reluctantly. 

Suddenly, I feel embarrassed. I must look like crap right now. I haven't looked into a mirror in ages. The last time I saw myself in the reflection of a store front's window, I actually grimaced and hurried away. This girl in front of me, there is no doubt she is the most beautiful creature I have ever set eyes on, she seems more terrified than sympathetic though, and I'm not sure which option weighs better to be honest.

After a heartbeat of silence, she speaks up, "You're bleeding."

The two of us glance down at my flesh arm. Her voice is still ringing through my mind. I peer at her gingerly and swallow. "I am." She is really, really pretty. I may be running a fever too.

Annoyance is displayed in her bright eyes vividly, and for some very odd reasons, I kind of want to just laugh at her reaction. My ironic remark must have left some impression on her. Batting her lashes, she takes a step back so she is sheltered from the rain. For a moment, she watches as I keep my stance, allowing the rain to pour on me.

"Do you want to do something about it?" She asks and frowns quizzically. I look down at my flesh arm again. The bloody patches on my sleeve does look unappealing. Licking my lips, I attempt to utter another word again. This time, I stutter.

"Maybe?" No, wait. That doesn't make sense. I think I am running a fever.

"What?" She sounds annoyed. She lingers at the door frame. The rain feels colder on my forehead. I gaze down, taking in the hidden garbage bag behind her. Catching my eyes, she remembers what her initial intension of coming out of that door was. With a sigh, she picks up the garbage and narrows her beautiful eyes at the pouring sky.

Her hair falls over her shoulder gracefully, shadowing her features briefly. "Here," I offer weakly, taking a step towards her and reach out for her garbage bag. Instinctively, she jumps back at my approaching. I set my jaw to hide my disappointment. I'm just so tired of people seeing me as a predator, or worse, a monster. 

"Thanks," she mutters and hands me the bag alas. I take it from her, and wanly, I turn to the tall bin and lifts up the lid. "That doesn't go in there," the girl remarks again. I frown at her and she nods towards another bin. "I didn't pick out the plastics."

I think there is a high possibility that I am only imagining all these in my head. A pretty, fair nymph instructing me to put away garbage. 

With my legs growing my sluggish, I almost drag myself to the other bin and reaching for the lid, I expose my silver arm with the street light bouncing off the metal surface. A sharp gasp is heard from behind me. I freeze, my head is layering with thicker and thicker wool. The rain sounds farther away now. I sway, and turning on my heels unsteadily, I watch in concealed fear as the girl steps away from the door again. 

"You're the guy from the news," she whispers, her eyes betraying her and I can read her emotions like a book: horror, disgusted, doubts-

Suddenly, the world tilts from me. I grunt and feel the garbage bag slip out of my hand. With a dull thud, I drop onto the soaking ground while my brain is burning up like a train wreck. "James Buchanan Barnes," I rasp as broken clips of memory seep into my head. Shit, where am I?

The girl comes into my view just as my world is turned upside down. "Are you okay?" She sounds too loud. Why is she shouting at me? When I look up, I have to blink away the rain to see her properly. She looks down at me wearily, her hair tickles my face, filling my lungs with her shampoo and almost reminding me something of a distant home. She reaches for me hesitantly. Then, to my bewilderment, she pulls back to fish out her phone. She peeks at me quickly before punching in a number onto her phone. Her full lips twist with indecision as her gaze skims over me once more.

With the world blasting and pulsing around me with a life of its own, my head swimming in a sea of wickedness, I know I am no better than a dead man. I am going to die, and this time, I am not going to fight against it. It has been a long day. I need my rest. 

From afar, I can almost hear the swing jazz that was playing in Steve and my favourite club back in our days. The city around me sounds distant, and when I peer up for the last time, the most beautiful nymph is still watching me. With the ghost of a smile tugging at my lips, I flutter my eyes shut against the rain and whisper, "we should go dancing sometimes, doll."