Notes

Three

In which Bucky refuses to get his hair cut unless you do too, leading to disastrous consequences.

For about four days now you had been sapping Bucky of his negative emotions in his sleep, but it was starting to take its toll. The more you used your power, the less control you had over how well you could keep another person's emotions and his were so strong they were getting to you. The lack of sleep didn't help much either and you were beginning to think he'd noticed.

On the fifth night, just past dawn, you flipped. Unable to bottle the pent up emotions any longer, you went to your training room to try and physically exert the mental turmoil.
Unfortunately, between yourself and the room suffering, you decided the room had to suffer. The anger overflowing, you tore the punching bag from the ceiling (the rope holding it there was fraying anyway, so it wasn't hard), before chucking it with difficulty at the wall. You upturned the exercise bike, pushing it over and then began throwing the weights at the padded wall. When you ran out of weights, you took to attacking the wall with your hands, until you drained yourself entirely and collapsed against the cushioned padding, breathing heavily.

It was only then that you noticed the figure standing in the doorway.
He moved over to you, lifting you off the floor with ease and carrying you into the kitchen, setting you on a bar stool. He went to the cupboard and grabbed a couple of mugs and the stuff needed for a coffee.
When he finished, he put one mug in front of you and sat beside you. Placing his metal hand on your shoulder (as he didn't trust himself not to smash the mug with it), he turned your shoulder so you faced him.
"(Y/n)." He said softly.
You looked at him blankly, before taking a sip of your coffee.
"(Y/n), what've you been doing lately?"
"Why would I have been doing anything?"
"Because you lost it. And you've been fighting it for the last week, I'm not oblivious to the signs. What drove you to it?"
"Sorry to disturb your sleep," you muttered quietly, "before I woke you, were you sleeping well?"
"Yeah, but it's not a problem, I took your advice and changed my outlook and I stopped having problems."
You smiled faintly. "Good, that's great. I'm, I'm okay. Don't worry about me, I'm not incapable of taking care of myself-"
Bucky slammed his metal fist down on the worktop and in that moment you were so glad you'd splashed out on stone rather than cheap plastic. "That's not good enough, (y/n)! Tell me what's going on!"
You gave him a half hearted, knowing smile, "you angry, Bucky?"

Bucky was angry, goddamn it he was angry. Why wouldn't you tell him what was going on?! He finally thought he could trust you, more than he even trusted Steve, because you hadn't tried to keep anything from him and now look, you'd resorted to keeping him in the dark too.

Suddenly, his anger sapped away. Not as in faded, not as in he calmed himself, collected his thoughts. No, it just disappeared. He looked towards you, to find you breathing heavily. "(Y/n)...? You okay?"
You pushed yourself away forcefully, walking half way across the kitchen. "No! No I am fucking bloody well not okay! Goddamn it hurts!"
He stood up, attempting to approach you, but you backed away. "No!" You suddenly recoiled, fearful. "I'll- hurt you? No, I physically couldn't possibly hurt you, you'd beat me in two seconds flat, why do I feel-" You began rambling your emotions, looking at Bucky desperately with confused eyes.
"(Y/n)." Bucky said firmly. "(Y/n), stop. Now." He stepped closer to you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

You took a shaky breath, before allowing him to lead you to the sofa, where you almost collapsed on your face before he caught you.
"So...so tired," you mumbled, but before Bucky could say anything, you were fast asleep.

-

A few hours later, you awoke, surprised to see Bucky had remained next to you (judging from the way he was flexing his leg, it looked like he'd been there the whole time too). He was on his phone and you glanced at the time. You'd slept 3 hours. He'd sat there for three hours?! You were impressed.

Suddenly, he started typing on his phone.
(Y/n), I know you're awake.
You blushed awkwardly and sat up, a sheepish smile on your face.

His dead serious stare wiped the smile straight from your face.

"(Y/n). What. Happened."
You evaded his eyes. "No."
He grasped your face gently, turning it to look at him. "Explain." He said, his voice softening at the almost broken look in your eyes.
You made no response.
He let go of your face and with his human hand, he awkwardly tried to grab your right hand.
You shook your head slightly, drawing your hand away from his, before clutching softly to his metal one with far more ease.

"(Y/n)." He murmured softly.
You sighed. "I'm not on the Avengers team because they can't afford to have me in the public eye, none of us can afford to explain what I do for the team. So I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Or, was. Now I'm just casually drifting I guess."
Bucky hesitated before he drew a breath to say, "so what do you do for the team?"
"Please don't hate me," you muttered under your breath. "I asked you if you were angry when I wouldn't tell you what I was doing, yeah?"
"Yeah, and I was. But then I wasn't."
"Then who was angry?"
He paused to think for a moment, before his eyes widened and he looked at you, still somewhat confused. "You-?"
"Okay, this is gonna be a weird sensation, but just go with it okay?"

You didn't wait for confirmation before you pushed your fear of him hating you, your physical pain from hurting yourself when you lost control earlier and your anger at yourself for letting all this out, towards him.
You could see his expression twitching as you let it touch him for barely a second, before you withdrew the emotions hastily.
"I-, well, I, I control negative emotions. Fear, anger, pain, regret, anything that doesn't feel good. But, like energy, you've learnt in physics right?, it cannot be destroyed. So I move it, from one person to another. Or spread it, across many, or pile it upon one."

You waited until the silence became unbearable. You didn't want to look at his face, too scared to see his reaction.

"...B-Buck?" You didn't move your eyes from the ground.
"Just....processing." He said slowly, his voice low.

After a minute or so, he spoke again tentatively. "So, I get what your power is. But what caused you to, y'know, lose it?"
"I, er, well, oh gods okay." You groaned slightly. "I told you not to fear your memories, right?"
"You took-"
"Stop. Let me finish."
Bucky's face expression showed just how annoyed he was at being told to shut up, but you ignored him.
"I told you not to fear them, but you wouldn't have believed me," you paused at his reaction, "no, you really wouldn't have believed me, unless you remembered part way through your sleep about what I said."
"So, you sapped my fear a bit to jog my memory?"
You smiled infinitesimally. "You catch on quick. Most on the first night, then less each day after that, til I barely needed to do anything."

"So what was the problem?"
"No mortal can be blessed nor cursed with too much power, not without a downfall. Steve loves, but sometimes too much. He has nigh on eternal youth and he can withstand almost anything. But he's had to watch people he loves leave him, and he'll continue to do so and also, what I think is the worst, is he can't get drunk."
Bucky chuckled very slightly at your priorities in spite of himself.
"You. You have immense strength, but you feel as though you don't deserve it. You have a good heart, you're intelligent, strong, good looking and brave. But you hate yourself and you have a lot of anger." You reaaaally regretted the good looking comment, but you tried to pretend there wasn't a faint blush rising across your cheeks the more you thought about it.
"Stark. As in, Tony. He's a genius, he's got money, women falling at his feet and he could get pretty much anything he wanted. But he has an alcohol problem, he has anxiety attacks, he struggles with holding people close to him."
"I don't understand where this is going." Bucky muttered.
"Well, I have a theory. There is a state of equilibrium in the universe, which cannot be altered. Humans have seemingly limitless potential, but you can't perfect them. That's what makes us human, and perfect. Flaws and challenges are what inspires us to try to improve, even though whenever we improve something, there will always, always be another flaw. But, we're okay with that."

"(Y/n), please, what's the point here?"
You blushed. "Sorry, I digressed. Basically, the power I hold is scary, hellishly so. But there are downfalls, enough to near on equal the potential of my power. I can't take, say, Hulk's anger and spread it across everyone on the globe. Trying to spread it across that many people can and will kill me. But if I took a fair portion of his anger, I could change it to fear and strike it into at least a good 100 of an enemy army.
The more I take from one person as well, the harder it becomes to control it. I can generally keep on top of it with physical exertion but you, well, you had 70 years worth of torture and I had no sleep either because I stayed up to continually tap into your negative emotion."

"You...did that...for me?" He said quietly.
Your voice was even quieter. "You're not mad?"
His voice was now a whisper. "Should I be?"
You spoke barely above a murmur. "I messed with your brain, I woke you up because I lost control, I lied to you and I'm pretty sure put a hole in your wall with a weight." You leant your head on his metal arm slowly and noted as he tensed for a minute or two, before gently relaxing.
"You helped fix my brain, you allowed yourself to become unstable to help me, you didn't want sympathy or to upset me and you barely even noticed when I tore apart your sofa, so a hole in your wall is nothing."

"I don't get you."
"What?" He murmured, confused.
"You're too nice. You have shitloads of fucked up, but you're so, so nice. Just, so...accepting. Maybe you don't understand," you said, sitting up and looking him square in the eyes. "I-, I have taken on the pain of a losing side and given it to their enemies, so every blow is inflicted upon themselves. I've destroyed people from the inside out. My power is a curse and I myself am a demon for using it. Look me in the eyes and tell me you can accept that." You challenged him, your voice on the verge of breaking.
He retained eye contact, looking deep into your (e/c) orbs. "I'd trust you with my life."

You gaped a little, your jaw dropping, falling back into the sofa. You attempted to compose yourself quickly, annoyed at having allowed your emotions to spill like that.

Bucky watched your roller coaster of facial expressions, almost laughing when he realised you didn't know that he saw right through your facade of not caring too much. Eh, I guess that's what 90 years of experience can do to you.

"So, you wanna watch a film?" You said, smiling, more genuinely than ever before Bucky noticed, which in turn made him smile.
"Sure."

Suddenly the doorbell rang and you looked at each other, confused. You reached for your gun instinctively and Bucky flexed his arms. You approached the door together, Bucky on one side and you on the other. You slowly opened the door and Bucky lunged, pushing the figure to the ground. You spun around from behind the door, aiming your gun at the person's head.
"Hey, (y/n), what the hell?!" Stark groaned from under Bucky's pressure.

You gasped, "Oh my god Buck, let him up! Tony, I told you I was busy, I didn't expect anyone to come over except H.Y.D.R.A.!"
Bucky released him and Tony got to his feet with a moan. "Why'd you expect H.Y.D.R.A.?"
You looked from him, to Bucky pointedly, before he ohhhh-ed understandingly.

"Get in here," you said, still somewhat irritatedly, grabbing his arm and yanking him in, towards the kitchen. Bucky quickly closed the door behind him.
"What do you want?!"
"Woah, can't a friend just pop in to say hi and see how you're doing?"
You groaned. "Ugh! No, Tony, not if they're a secret agent who lacks an organisation who is trying to protect Captain America's best friend who is still wanted by the remnants of H.Y.D.R.A. and does not want to be found by your press following!!"
Tony ignored you. "So, you must be Barnes," he said, his voice suddenly taking on a harsh tone.
"Yes." Bucky flexed his arm.
Tony eyed him a moment, knowing what Bucky'd done in the past. Reluctantly he held out his hand.
Bucky gratefully accepted, shaking it firmly, a sigh of relief escaping his lips.
"If you don't mind, I might retire to my room."
You smiled slightly, shaking your head. "Go to. Go to your room."
He smiled back. "Old dog. New tricks," he said, walking down the hall.
"That doesn't even technically work there!" You called down the hallway after him, smiling.

"What made you do that?" you said, referring to the niceties, turning back to Stark, "I mean I'm totally appreciative, but it's not... you."
"I'd be insulted but yeah, you're right. It's not like me. But since you like him, I don't wanna make it hard for you."
"I like him? What do you mean by that?!"
"Oh c'mon, I see right though women-"
"I'm sure Pepper would appreciate that statement..."
"Oh shut up!" He elbowed you playfully. "Anyways, I see how it is. Apparently you wouldn't go for this genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist but a roguish tin soldier? He takes your fancy!"
"Tony, are you saying you'd want to date me?" You said with a joking wink.
"What, ew no! I mean, I love you, you're my best mate and you're hella hot, but fuck you? Hell no."
You grinned. "Good answer."

"But back to Mr. Dark, Deep and Dangerous..."
You punched him ’playfully' in the stomach, fighting the rising blush in your cheeks.
Tony groaned, sucking in his stomach, but not before he'd caught your flushed cheeks.
"I was right!" He shouted, before you clamped your hand across his mouth, aggressively pushing him against the wall.

"Speak of this to anyone and you're dead, get that? Especially to Steve."
Stark simply grinned. "Aw c'mon, he could hook you two up!"
Your harsh glare shut him up.
"Okay, fine, not telling anyone's good too."
You relaxed slightly, stepping back.
"Seriously though, him?"
You slapped him but couldn't help but laugh. Goddamn, it was hard having a best friend like Tony.

-

You went to the bathroom for two minutes, two fucking minutes, and he managed this.
He'd turned your kitchen utensils into a model of Bucky, complete with stolen clothing, metal arm and a sign saying "I'd date you too."

Tony grinned cheekily until he saw your murderous look.

Suddenly, you calmed down, smiling at him creepily.
"(y-y/n)?" He said warily.
"I don't know how I've never thought of this," you said, your smile becoming a grin.
"O-of what...?"
"Well, I know Pepper will appreciate this at least. You blokes often wonder how bad period pain is..."

Tony gaped, understanding. "Uh, no, (y/n), I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
You ignored him, quickly dismantling the metal Bucky before turning to Tony and giving him your period pain.

"Aghhhhhhhh!" Tony groaned loudly.
Mere seconds later, Bucky was at the door to the kitchen/living area. "What's-... wrong...?" he said confused, looking at Tony on the floor.
"Thought you'd want to see this, I was about to come and get you," you said with a grin. "Tony is experiencing period pain."

"How the fuck do you people cope?! How were you not dying a minute ago??"
"I was. I was just suppressing it. Now, Tony," you said taking out your phone video camera, "how many days has Pepper gone sick when she's worked for you?"
"None...woah, she came in like thi- ahhhhh!"
"Mhm." You nodded. "And how many times have you seen Natasha refuse a fight?"
"Once.....ohhhh. She was- oh my god! Ow. Ow. Ow. Owwwwww, I don't blame her! Ahhhhhh!"
"But what did you do?"
He groaned, half in annoyance at his own previous ignorance, but also in pain. "I, I wouldn't let her live it down," he said quietly, trying to suppress his cries of anguish.
"Oh, I'm sorry, what? I don't think I got that," you said, unable to keep the smile from your face.
"I'M SORRY, I FUCKING TALKED ABOUT IT FOR MONTHS!"
"Months?" You pushed, annoyingly.
"A YEAR. I REMINDED HER A YEAR AFTER AS WELL. I'M SO SORRYYYY, PLEASE (Y/N)), DID THE BEST FRIEND COMMENT MEAN NOTHING?!"
You sighed. "Fiiiiiine."

Within an instant, Tony stopped writhing on the floor. He hesitated, before pushing himself off the ground and looking you up and down curiously.
"What'd you do with it?"
"With what?" You said, just as confused as he seemed.
"The pain."
"Erm, it's mine, so I've got it." You deadpanned.
Tony's jaw dropped. "Y-you, you're not-"
"It's called dealing with it," you said a level of sarcasm infiltrating your voice. "Didn't you try that?"
"But oh my god, it was awful!"
"It's called needs must, Tony. Women have to deal with it, we have no choice sometimes. So we do."

"Aw fuck, (y/n), that's crap," Tony groaned, tentatively touching his stomach nervously. "But was that really necessary?"
"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, Tony. Why, do you wanna feel it again?"
"No! No, I'm good!" He said, walking around the kitchen looking for something.
You walked to the sofa and sat down, trying to ignore the period pain. "Booze's in the bottom cupboard on the left, Stark," you said boredly, not even looking his way.
"Ah, thanks," he called back.

Bucky followed you, gently sitting down beside you.
"Oh, hey Buck. You can go retire to your room now, I just thought you'd want to see that."
He ignored you, turning to face you and gently placing both of his hands around your stomach.
"Bucky? Buck, what're you-" you broke off as he started to massage your stomach muscles. "Ohhhhh, woah that feels good..."

Tony looked up at you both, grinning stupidly. "Oh wow, you listening earlier, tin snowman?"
Bucky looked up at him confused, but you spoke first. "Tony! He's just relieving the pain and seriously well too!"
His grin didn't disappear. "Okay, if you say so..."
"Tony..." You smiled creepily in warning.
"Right! Okay! Imma take this to your room, you kids have fun!" He said, running out hastily with his drink.

"What was that about?" Bucky asked.
You fought the blush. "Just Tony making no sense as usual."
"And," he coughed awkwardly, "the kitchen stuff all over the floor?"
Your face reddened. "Tony. Don't worry, I'll sort it later."

There was a pause.

"You don't know how much that helped," you said awkwardly, referring to him rubbing your stomach.
He withdrew his hands with sudden unease. "Oh, uh..."
Seeing him so awkward and tense just made you laugh. You reached over, not thinking for a moment, to touch his hair thoughtfully. "You need to get this cut," you muttered as an afterthought.
"What's wrong with it?" Bucky said defensively.
You tilted your head slightly, thinking for a second. "I'm not sure, I think it's good, but it needs to be trimmed and shaped, at the moment, it's a little messy. Besides, it can be impractical when fighting."

He looked at your hair, before reaching over and gently pulling it out of your messy bun and watching the (h/c) curls fall down past your shoulders. "Impractical when fighting?" He queried with a smirk that made you almost melt.
"Hey, that's different!"
"How so?"
"I physically can't get mine cut any shorter, it's the weight that holds it down."
"Fine then, I'm not getting mine cut either."
"Hey!" You whined.
"Nope," he grinned, "it's only fair."

Silence was heavy in the air.

"Tony!" You called out, standing up. "We're going out. Be back before dinner, I'll text you and you can order a take away for when we get back?"
"Whatevs is good," he said, nonplussed.
Bucky looked at you curiously. "Going out where?"
"The hairdressers."

"But you-?"
"I am getting my hair cut, because although I know it is a terrible idea, I am willing to do it for you. I want that noted in advance."
Bucky was surprised. "What, really?"
"Yes. Come on."

Curious as to the following events, Bucky figured he'd let you get his hair cut, besides, he wanted to see what would go so wrong with yours.

-

After getting Bucky's cut, (he looked so fucking dapper, I mean, before he was hot, but now? Woah.) he looked to you. "Your turn."
You sighed, turning to the old friend who'd agreed to cut both of your hair in the room out back to keep Bucky out of the public eye as much as possible. "Me too?"
He stared at you long and hard. Finally, he spoke. "Really?"
"Mhm." You nodded, sighing a little in trepidation.
"But, it'll-"
"I know."
"And then it'd look-"
"Yup."
"And then you'll-"
You sighed. "It's your worst nightmare, yes? Mine too. But I have to get it done, so let's get it over with."

Bucky looked backwards and forwards between you two, slightly concerned. Getting your hair cut couldn't be that bad.... right?
You turned to him. "You go sit over there. I don't want you to see me afterwards till I've found a paper bag to go or my head."
He looked at you questioningly, not quite understanding, but nevertheless he went and sat where you suggested.
"Right." You said to yourself. "Let's get this over with."

-

"Ah! No!" Your hairdresser cried to himself, snipping away. "Oh, there is nothing I can do, ugh, why, why make me do this?!"
You groaned anxiously, not daring to open your eyes. "I had to."
"Dare I ask why?" More scissor snips could be heard.
"Because if I didn't, he wouldn't."
"Ah, but he needed one. You? No, no!"
"You should've tried telling that to him." You muttered, irritated.

There was a pause and the snipping stopped. "I, I have failed you, I'm sorry." He muttered.
"No, no!" You said, not opening your eyes. "It's my hair and my choice, not your fault at all!"
Tentatively opening your eyes, you saw your hair was cut to just above shoulder length, but the curls had poofed out to wider than your shoulders. You failed to hold in a gasp.

Suddenly, Bucky came in. He froze, seeing you and his face was a mix of horror and hysterical laughter.
"(Y/n), what happened?!"
"Told you it wasn't a good idea," you said, hanging your head shamefully.

Bucky walked over to the hairdresser and they had a short murmured conversation, obviously about your hair.
"Ah! Ah! Yes, that could work!" Your friend said with a grin. "Okay, out, out!" He shooed Bucky away and pulled you upright. "There is no hair I cannot cut!"

-

Another half an hour later, you looked up at the mirror in fear. To your utmost shock, you found your hair was a very, very short bob. That also really suited you.
Somewhat surprised, you touched the ends of it curiously.
"Ah, ah, you like?"
"Uh, yeah. I do actually," you muttered almost to yourself, still fiddling with your hair curiously, inspecting it from all angles.

The hairdresser left for a moment and returned with Bucky.
"Uh......woah." Bucky stood in the door, slightly agape and very speechless. Damn, he thought. She had this whole dark angel thing going and now she just had like the hottest, most chic, funky look he'd ever seen. And it fucking worked in all the wrong ways.

"Hey," you said, giving him an awkward wave. "What d'ya think?"
"I, er, woah, I mean, like..." He stopped a moment to see the hairdresser with his hands clasped together, grinning at the pair of you.
"What's up with you?" You asked, confused.
"Ah, nothing. You'll see soon enough," he said, still smiling. "These cuts, on the house. My treat. I must return to the shop, but darling," he took your hand, "you look fabulous!" He turned to Bucky and gave him a seductive wink and a whistle, to which Bucky immediately got extremely awkward.

Maybe your next step should be introducing him to gay people, you thought with a smile. Bucky'd gotten round to the idea of rights for all sexualities far quicker than Steve, who found the concept hard to grasp, but he was still getting used to the idea that a guy could be attracted to him. To be fair, you had a feeling it was the idea that anyone could be attracted to him. You'd have to sort that too.

You took out your phone and opened snapchat, sending a quick new haircut selfie to Tony with the caption: Chinese please? For 3, ofc. C u in 20 :)