Chapter Text
It had begun like any other morning. You stared at the ceiling until you could compel yourself to stand and trudge your way to the shower. As you toweled off, that's when you noticed it; words scrawled on the inside of your left forearm right near the juncture of your elbow.
You came to an abrupt halt and closed your eyes, gritting your teeth as a loud growl of complete frustration fled your lips. You cursed under your breath as you ran your fingers over the mark, like you might be able to wipe it away if you tried hard enough.
Your very first thought was ‘shit, not again’ followed very closely by ‘how can this keep happening?’ and then finally ‘why me?’. This is the third time. How can it be possible that the universe has found a way to present you with a soulmate for a THIRD TIME??
Granted, it wasn't unheard of. Despite popular ideals, people were not so overly unique or complicated that you only had one shot at finding the right one for you. But it wasn't exactly common either, fate offering you this many opportunities. Most people committed to their soulmates on the first go. Sometimes it took a second try. Sometimes you got a second chance if one of you passed on.
But it was rare to be rejected by not one but two soulmates and then get a third chance. You didn't personally know anyone that it had happened to. You didn't know what the hell the universe had against you, but you just felt like a big cosmic joke, at this point.
You glared at your own reflection in your bathroom mirror as you felt all sorts of emotions flooding your consciousness, none of which was excitement, which was what people typically felt when this happened. You felt rage. You felt disbelief. You felt dread.
This was just plain cruel at this point. The pull of the soulmate bond hadn't been enough for the last two to overlook outward appearances. You couldn't imagine this time would be any damn different.
No matter what kind of progress society made, no matter how many times you were told the right person won't get hung up on looks, no matter how much we fought for the whole body positivity movement, the simple fact of reality was undeniable; fat people weren't viewed as desirable. Argue it anyway you like, that was the truth.
You knew because you lived it every day. Even in this era of curves and softness being accepted, there were limits. You didn't have the shape or figure that was curvy and sought after. You were decidedly too plus sized even for the plus sized accepting. You were in no way traditionally attractive and history had shown it never failed to be the roadblock that no one was willing to go around.
You knew you had many attractive qualities. You knew you were an interesting person. You could hold your head high and confidently say you were intelligent and quick witted. You had almost uncanny intuition, which protected you from narcissists and manipulative assholes. You weren't afraid to be fierce or honest, but you were still kind and compassionate. You knew all these things about yourself.
But no one seemed inclined to learn that about you, to learn who you were. They took one look, made an assessment, and put you squarely in the friend zone and there you stayed. You had lots of friends, some close, some not, some good, some not. But it seemed that's where your personal relationships would end.
You thought you had made peace with that fact after the last time. You didn't think you would have to go through it again; the heartbreak of rejection.
The first time, you couldn't even be angry about it because the poor guy had clearly been just scared and completely out of his comfort zone. You'd stumbled through a few lines of awkward conversation before he told you he wasn't interested in having a soulmate, wished you well, and walked away. It hadn't exactly been painful because it didn't feel like it was personal.
The second time was different. You liked him. You thought he liked you. And maybe he did, but not enough to keep him from hiding you. You spent time together, getting to know one another, but always tucked away somewhere, in odd little off the beaten path places. He never introduced you to his friends. He was only physically affectionate when no one could see you. Eventually, when you confronted him about it, he confessed that he was essentially ashamed to openly have you as a soulmate and he didn't know if he could get past that. You were proud of yourself that you had been able to walk away, but that didn’t make the pain any less.
Now, you thought bitterly, you might have to go through it all over again. You felt no small amount of anxiety over the idea.
You continued getting ready for the day and tried not to think about it, tried not to let your eyes linger on the mark, tried not to ponder over what it said. But you knew it was a failed endeavor. You couldn't help but be consumed by the idea; whether it was some little shred of hope still left in your bones or just complete dread over the impending pain, you couldn't say. But you stared at the words and your mind conjured up all sorts of scenarios and possibilities.
No, it doesn't.
That's it. That's all you got. That was so vague and non-descript, it was laughable. There's thousands of reasons that could be the first words out of someone's mouth when they meet you. You were a field medic. ‘No’ was often the first word you heard from anyone on any given day.
In a strange way, this brought you a measure of comfort. Perhaps, when you finally meet whoever this was, he would be polite enough to simply ignore it and you wouldn't have to deal with it at all. You knew that was a long shot, since if neither of you ever addressed it or officially rejected the bond, then it meant neither of you would have the opportunity to find a different soulmate and the underlying pull would always be there. If it turned out to be someone you saw more than once, it would be even more unpleasant if you didn't say anything, since it only got stronger with time and proximity.
You sighed to yourself as you zipped up your jacket, grabbed your bag, and headed out the door. You didn't want to think about it anymore. You had a crazy day ahead of you and you needed to focus.
The team was scheduled to be back today. Since you'd only started two weeks ago, you hadn't met everyone yet. You were given a tour and a brief introduction to anyone who was home at the time, which had happened to be Bob and Alexei. You met John later in the week. But Ava, Yelena, and Bucky had been on assignment. Today, you would meet the rest of the new Avengers team and next time they went out on assignment, you would be on the jet, standing by for injuries in the field.
Truth be told, you were nervous. No, that was an understatement. You were downright terrified. You knew you couldn't keep up with people like the Avengers. You were honestly dumbfounded as to how this had even fallen in your lap. You were good at your job, yes, and calm under pressure, and quick thinking. But you weren't very quick on your feet, even if you wanted to be. You had been wondering if that would end up being a liability.
But when the call came in that you were being assigned to their team, you couldn't just voice all your insecurities and back away. You thought about it, but you wanted to see what you were made of. So here you were.
As the elevator doors opened on the infirmary floor, you heard an alert. A disembodied voice announced that the jet was landing and there were wounded on board. You quickly turned on your heels and got back to the elevator, headed for the landing pad.
You arrived as the ramp was descending on the quinjet and you saw Yelena and Ava holding Bucky upright as they tried to gingerly walk him down. The man was twice either of their sizes and they were struggling. Luckily, you hadn't been the only one alerted.
“On your left,” you heard John announce as he zipped past you up the ramp.
John took over for Yelena and easily helped Bucky down the rest of the way. Even from this distance you could see the enormous gash in the super soldier’s thigh as it oozed blood at an alarming rate.
You picked up your pace and in a few seconds were standing in front of him. Close up you realized he hadn't just dwarved the two women who had been supporting him because they were small, but because he was huge. He was a towering wall of muscle with a piercing icy glare that could level Mount Rainier.
You set your jaw, tried to ignore how hard your heart was pounding in your chest, and dropped to examine the wound. You heard him hiss when your gloved fingers gently prodded at his leg. You were grabbing gauze out of your bag and pressing firmly to try and staunch the bleeding when John asked what your assessment was
“Missed the femoral artery, but it's not exactly a clean cut. I'll know better when we get him downstairs,” you replied to John.
You stood, making sure to keep pressure on the wound and finally turned to address Bucky.
“At the very least, it needs to be stitched up,” you told him when you made eye contact.
He didn't blink, but you saw something flash across his face, a split second expression, and his jaw ticked noticeably. You watched carefully, feeling oddly intrigued as he took a controlled breath.
“No, it doesn't,” he stated firmly.
You felt your heart stop. Well, shit.
You told yourself it was a coincidence, that you'd heard the same response a hundred times, that it didn't mean anything. But you knew that was all lies. Because you felt it, that undercurrent that tugged you toward him the moment he spoke. It slammed into your chest and you grit your teeth to stay grounded and tried to breathe evenly.
You'd felt it before, the pull, the sudden tug toward another person that came out of nowhere and flooded your senses. But not like this; this was different. It had never felt this strong before, this forceful. The times before had been more like an insistent gentle nudge. This was more like being lassoed around the ankle and yanked off your feet with no warning.
“That's for her to decide, not you, Barnes,” Yelena scolded, giving Bucky a glare of her own, one that gave his a run for its money.
You demanded for the air in your lungs to unfreeze and the static that sat at the edges of your brain to retreat while you focused back on keeping him from bleeding out. You grabbed Yelena’s hand and placed it firmly against the gauze.
“Keep firm pressure,” you instructed.
You turned as you saw two techs coming towards you with a gurney and one of them handed you a proper medical bag as they came to a halt in front of Bucky. His gaze narrowed for only a moment as he rested his eyes on you again, making you involuntarily swallow. You were genuinely shocked when he didn't say a word in protest before allowing John to help him onto the gurney.
You stepped to him, instructed Yelena to back up and you changed out the gauze pressed to the wound, relieved to see that the bleeding had slowed. The techs wheeled him back the way they came as you kept the wound covered and then you were back at the elevator.
“Keep me updated on his condition,” Yelena told you as you watched the doors open.
“I'll be down to check on you after I update Val,” Yelena said to Bucky.
“I'll be fine. No need,” Bucky said flatly.
“I'll update you,” you confirmed as you entered the elevator.
Yelena nodded, giving Bucky a scowl. “I'm sure you'll be fine, but I'm still going to check on you. That's my job. Get used to it,” she told him, crossing her arms.
Bucky blinked at her, nostrils flaring slightly, then offered a very curt nod as the doors closed.
A few minutes later, you were situated in a room, ready to get to work.
“I gotta get the suit away from the wound,” you told him as you lifted the gauze once more to find the bleeding was now minimal. “I know it's built to withstand cutting and tearing. Do you know-” you stopped mid sentence when Bucky hopped off the bed, deftly shed his tactical gear, down to his briefs and under shirt, and hopped back up, like he didn't have a gaping hole in his thigh.
You fought hard not to run your eyes over him, because even caked in blood and dust, you'd have to be clinically dead not to see he was basically a god. He wasn't technically Asgardian, no, but the serum made him nearly indistinguishable.
The universe really had played an epically sick joke on you this time, putting this specimen of human perfection at your feet and trying to pretend he could ever be yours. This was the work of a high school bully with a long standing grudge. This was just plain mean.
You realized you must have gone a couple seconds too long lost in your thoughts of self deflating misery, because when you finally blinked and locked eyes with him again, he was giving you a curious look. Not upset or irritated, but intrigued, like you had felt earlier. Like he was trying to gauge you, figure you out.
You shook your head just slightly and cleared your throat, turning your attention back to his leg.
“It's healing quickly,” you remarked as you cleaned the wound and examined the jagged edges.
“It's the serum,” Bucky said, watching your hand movements closely.
You nodded. “I'm aware, I've just never had the chance to see it working up close in real time before.”
You were done irrigating and took a moment to reassess the area.
“I guess it doesn't need the sutures,” you concluded as you let out a slow breath. “The bleeding stopped. I'll give you some butterfly bandages and cover it, but at this rate, by morning you'll just have a scratch.”
Bucky's lips held just the ghost of a smile. “See, I told you I didn't need stitches, doll,” Bucky said with the hint of a glint in his eye.
You turned away so he couldn't see the color in your cheeks brought on by the little pet name that he let slip. You weren't naive enough to think it had anything to do with you. You knew his story. You knew he was from a bygone era. It was probably a reflex from the war. You wondered for a half second how many times he'd use it on a nurse just to watch her fall into his arms. Serum or not, the man was devastatingly handsome. He was probably trouble long before he got injected with the stuff that pumped up his muscles and made him nearly indestructible.
You walked to the counter and removed your jacket, which was now covered in his blood, took a breath, and turned back to him to finish dressing his wound. You worked methodically, not looking up, determined to stay cool, and make sure your hands didn't shake.
You were so concentrated on what you were doing, that you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt his fingertips glide across the skin on your inner left arm, right across the words you knew were there.
“So I wasn't imagining that,” Bucky said very quietly. He quickly pulled his hand away and tensed when he saw you flinch at the contact. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just entered your space like that without asking. You’d think I, of all people, would know better,” he said, almost to himself with a mild frown.
You tried to keep your face even and controlled and you knew you were fighting the heat that wanted to bloom on your cheeks as you continued dressing his wound.
“It's alright,” you assured him with a thin smile. “I'm already in your space, so I guess it's only fair.”
Your eyes darted up to his face for just a moment and you saw a slight curl at the edge of his mouth, like he wanted to smile, but wasn't sure if he should. You reached for more gauze to cover the wound and started taping it into place.
“I'm Bucky, by the way,” he offered, tone lighter this time, like he wanted to be friendly but wasn't entirely sure how. Then added as an afterthought, “You probably already knew that.”
You let out a small breathy laugh and you looked up at him again. That little curl at the edge of his lips twisted a little higher, reaching his eyes this time.
“You gonna tell me your name, doll?” Bucky asked. He tilted his head slightly and watched as you bit your lip, anxiety clearly etched into your features. Something about the way you held yourself, the practiced control and schooled expressions, made him want to get you to relax.
“Or would you rather I just call you ‘soulmate’?” He asked as he sat back a little and relaxed his own posture, hoping it would encourage you to do the same.
You stopped and looked up at him. He was smiling now, a real smile and it was every bit as overwhelming as you assumed it would be. You fought the instinct to roll your eyes, feeling like you were being taunted.
You dropped your gaze back to his leg and finished your task. “I'm YN,” you responded in a calm and even tone. “And you're done. I recommend staying off the leg for at least 24 hours and elevating it. But based on your healing factor, I'd say by morning you'll be fine to resume normal activities.”
Bucky nodded, still smiling, and hopped off the gurney. He grabbed his gear and tugged the pants back on.
“I take it you're our new field medic?” Bucky guessed as he was pulling his vest back on.
You nodded politely, trying to maintain the facade of calm that you had been carefully projecting. “I came on from DC a couple weeks ago. I'll be out with the team whenever you get your next assignment.”
Bucky watched as you shed your gloves and washed your hands and the tension in your movements was obvious. He wondered for a moment if he made you uncomfortable. He had to assume you wouldn't take an assignment to this team if you were inclined to hold the past against its members. So, he figured your nerves were due to recent revelations.
He decided, as he typically did, that the direct approach was the best. He moved to stand behind you and when you turned around from the sink, drying your hands, his towering figure stood in your path.
“I had honestly given up on the idea that I would ever find my soulmate,” Bucky told you in a soft and careful tone. He watched you closely, and though you didn't seem any less tense or nervous, you didn't give him the impression you wanted to run, so he slowly shifted to lean against the counter at your side. You didn't move, but you did stiffen so he held still. “I figured I probably missed her somewhere back 70 odd years ago. But I guess you just weren't around yet,” he said with a kind of nervous chuckle.
You gave him an apologetic smile. “I appreciate that you're being so kind about it,” you told him as you took a steadying breath. “But since we have to work together, it would probably be easiest if we just get the rejection out of the way now and be done with it.”
Bucky angled his body toward you a little and furrowed his brow. “Rejection?” He said with confusion.
“Yeah,” you said, offering him an understanding look and a small, resigned smile. “You don't have to feel bad, Sergeant Barnes. I'm sure I'm exactly what you weren't looking for. You can just tell me no and we'll go on.”
Bucky looked even more confused and possibly a little nervous himself now. He crossed his arms across his chest and you couldn't help but watch the way his suit bunched around his biceps. You tried not to be obvious as you swallowed and averted your eyes to the floor.
“We just met, doll, how could either of us know if we're what each other is looking for or not?” He asked, tilting his head and watching you closely.
You held yourself so rigid and still, like you were afraid if you moved, your armor would crack and you might reveal something you didn't mean to. It made something in Bucky's chest ache just the tiniest bit. Something in him wanted to know what was underneath, and why you felt like you needed to hide.
He watched you chew your lip and something occurred to him that made him feel just the slightest bit anxious. He stood up a little straighter and gave you a guarded look.
“Or was that your nice way of letting me down easy?” He finally asked.
“Or was that your nice way of letting me down easy?” He finally asked.
Your eyebrows went up and you just stared at him, dumbfounded. You could even feel your mouth hanging open, even if it was just a little.
“I- no, of course not- I, I just assumed…” you couldn't figure out how to finish your thought. What you were really thinking was that no one in their right mind would purposely let him down, you were sure of it. But more than that, you couldn't fathom the idea that he actually thought you would be the one to reject him.
You watched a kind of a weak smirk crawl across his face. It made your stomach flip and you tried very hard to stifle the heat that wanted to cover your cheeks, but you were sure you weren't successful.
He must have noticed because you watched the look on his face get all the more self assured. “That's what you get for assuming.”
You dropped your head, eyes on the floor and you leaned back against the sink, grabbing the edges behind you. You suddenly felt very embarrassed by your own assumptions and the color in your face deepened.
“I'm sorry, it's just, this isn't my first time meeting a potential soulmate and the previous experiences were… unsuccessful, to say the least,” you bit your cheek as you contemplated how honest you wanted to be. Regardless of how this played out, you still had to work together. You wanted to be diplomatic.
And yet, something about him made you feel like you shouldn't. Something deeply compelled you to simply be, for lack of a better term. Something was insisting you stop with the carefully refined mask you showed everyone and let him see who you really were
So you did. You picked your head up and turned to face him, planting your feet and setting your jaw, not in irritation or anger, but in determination. If he didn't like assumptions (which was fair), then you could expect him not to make any himself. You'd let him see what you were really made of and let the chips fall.
“You're right, I was assuming,” you admitted. “For that I apologize, because it's what everyone always does to me and I hate it, so I should have known better. But frankly, it felt justified. I thought I better just put a wall up and protect myself,” you gestured vaguely to his person. “You're an Avenger. You look like you've been carved from stone. You could go take down a major crime syndicate and then walk a runway after. You're so far out of my league, I'm not even sure we're on the same planet. I genuinely thought that you would take one look at me and curse fate for being so cruel. I thought I would just get ahead of everything and offer you an immediate exit strategy.”
Bucky watched you as you spoke, eyes never leaving your face as he calmly listened. He looked pensive, then tilted his head, like he was logging the information you provided and following it to his own conclusions.
“You've been rejected by other soulmates?” He calmly asked.
You watched him shifting his weight and it occurred to you that he needed to get off his injured leg, whether he thought he did it or not.
It also occurred to you that he had latched on to the very first thing you said instead of what you felt was the important part.
“You should sit down- but also, out of everything I just said, that was what you took away?” You said incredulously. You gestured to the chair against the wall, clearly indicating that you expected him to take it.
He waved his hand dismissively. “I'm fine- yes, I'm working my way through it. Humor me,” he replied. “How many other potential soulmates have you had?”
You gave him a mild scowl and crossed your arms. “I'm not answering any more questions until you at least sit down, so if you really want to know; ass in chair,” you instructed, surprising yourself more than a little with how easily you had shifted to show your true colors.
Normally it took months for you to get comfortable enough to drop the carefully crafted facade and trust that you wouldn't be judged or dropped for it. What was it about him that made you feel like you could be yourself? Trusting was typically an agonizingly slow process. It scared you how much he made you feel like you should let your guard down. When he inevitably shoved you aside, it would only be that much more painful.
Bucky gave you another smirk, this one very clearly amused. He stood there, arms crossed for another second, staring you down, before doing as you requested and turning to drop himself into the chair.
“Alright. I did as I was told,” he pointed out with the hint of a cheeky grin. “Now answer my question; how many?”
You offered a defeated huff, internally wondering if this conversation would be worth it. You felt that pull again, the one that compelled you to be open with him, and you were sure it was just the bond trying to bring you together. But, damn, if it wasn't extremely hard to fight, harder than you remembered it being before.
“You're the third,” you finally replied.
Bucky frowned but nodded. “And they both rejected you, it would seem, given that we're here now, and based on your rather volatile reaction,” he calmly observed.
“The first one did. He didn't say it out right, but he took one look at me and politely declined. I think technically I rejected the second one, but not until after he made it clear he wouldn't ever be able to fully see past my… exterior and accept me,” you explained. You chewed at your lip, trying to keep your nerve, but this was a very touchy subject and you felt it fraying.
“You took one look at me, and decided I wouldn't want you,” Bucky thoughtfully observed.
You felt guilt and shame curling their way around your gut because you knew he was absolutely right. You had done to him exactly what was always done to you.
He saw the look on your face and immediately felt regret. He hadn't meant to make you feel bad, just to make a point. “I'm sorry, doll, I didn't mean for that to feel like an accusation,” he held up his left arm and flexed his first, making the mechanisms softly whir as the metal plates shifted. “I get plenty of judgement and sideways looks with my arm. My best friend was a five foot, 90 pound asthmatic that girls would hardly spare a glance. I understand why you thought what you did. Better than most, believe me.”
You gave him an appreciative look. If he was ramping up to let you down, he was certainly doing so with far more care and consideration than anyone else ever had. You were grateful.
“Still, no one deserves to have assumptions made,” you said, again apologetic. You stood back and leaned against the counter once more, trying to relax your stiff posture. “I guess the question I have, then, is: now what? What do we do next?”
Bucky gave you a genuine smile and you felt your heart fluttering. You swore you saw his smile widen and you suddenly remembered that super soldiers equaled super senses and you felt another stutter in your chest followed by a fresh wash of heat over your face and neck.
“It looks like you might have just realized I can hear your heart rate. I can detect a number of psychological characteristics,” Bucky commented with a soft chuckle. “Which means, I know you're attracted to me. You can't deny it.”
Bucky surprised himself with his blunt admission. He was a straightforward person. He wasn't one to beat around the bush or mince words. But even he was typically more guarded than that. It made most people uncomfortable to think about how he was a human lie detector. It made them feel exposed. But he felt this irresistible pull to be honest with you.
You had expected that comment to make you blush even harder, since that was your unfortunate reaction to nearly everything, really. But to your own surprise, you cocked your head and gave him a grin.
“I don't think there's a straight woman or gay man on the planet that wouldn't be attracted to you, Sergeant Barnes,” you countered. “That's a rather unfair advantage, though.”
Bucky sat back a little and laughed. “Sorry, I can't exactly offer a way to level the playing field with that one. I could just keep it to myself, if that would make you feel better.” Bucky cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. “But I get the distinct impression you would rather I be honest.”
You raised your eyebrow in return. “You're right. I would rather you be straightforward with me. It's one of my biggest pet peeves when people are too afraid to be honest.”
“Are you sure you want that? I'm pretty blunt. I don't always stop to think about my delivery. It has a tendency to grate on people,” Bucky warned you, his face sincere.
“Well, good, then we should get along, because I'm pretty blunt myself. Although, I've learned to be fairly tactful in my delivery,” you replied with a wry smile.
“Then I'll be blunt; I'm attracted to you too,” Bucky said with a smile. He heard the hitch in your breath at his words and saw the color rushing to your cheeks and his smile turned a little more cocky.
You just stared at him for a moment before you appeared to blink the shock away and you pushed off the counter. You crossed and sat in the chair next to his, discreetly pushing it over a half foot or so as you did, to avoid being too close to him.
“That's just the soulmate bond doing its thing, trying to push us together,” you reasoned. “Though, I still appreciate that you admitted it instead of trying to pretend it's not there. That's more than anyone else ever did.”
Bucky watched you out of the corner of his eye for a moment, obviously reading your tells and taking notes, learning you. Before you could say anything more, he abruptly turned. He reached out and grabbed your chair, one hand on the back, the other unceremoniously reaching between your legs to grab the bottom of the seat. You let out a surprised squeak as you felt him lift the chair and you along with it, setting it back down right next to his, close enough that your thigh had no choice but to press against his.
He used the grip on your chair as an excuse to lean in and he smirked when he heard your heart trying to beat out of your chest and watched your pupils dilate with his proximity.
You watched him closely, wide eyed and fighting to remember to breathe. You bit your lip hard when you watched his tongue dart out to run along his bottom lip.
“I don't know if you know this, doll, but I can lift around ten times my body weight,” Bucky said, just a hair above a whisper. “Your weight doesn't mean much of anything to me.”
You swallowed as you tried to keep your calm with him pressing into your personal space like this. It was nearly impossible and rather unfair. Soulmate or not, with the way he was looking at you through his lashes, that cocky grin on his face, just a few inches from yours, you probably would do just about anything he asked. You didn't like it, but you knew it was true.
“I honestly don't know what to say,” you admitted. “And that's saying a lot, because I'm rarely without a retort.”
You heard him laugh and the sound did interesting things to your insides. You smiled at him, the first one that didn't have an undercurrent of apprehension, you realized. You tried not to think about how quickly he was wearing down your defenses and how easily he could already do damage.
“How about you say you'll at least give me a chance to prove I'm not just another self centered asshat who can't see past a body type?” Bucky suggested.
He slowly let go of your chair and sat back a little. You tried not to look disappointed at the loss of proximity. He smiled and patiently waited for a reply.
You smiled back, but your response was interrupted by a knock at the door. You both looked up to see Yelena as she opened it and stepped inside.
“I hadn't heard anything and it's been a while. I was afraid that was not a good thing,” Yelena said as she entered the room and assessed the situation.
You had the very strong urge to stand and flee to the other side of the room, or basically just get the hell away from Bucky. You were keenly aware that your thighs were still touching, which would look decidedly odd, since you just met. You also hadn't properly met Yelena yet and this felt like not the best introduction.
You moved, intending to stand, but Bucky put a hand on your leg and held you in place.
“I'm fine, Belova,” Bucky told her. “Didn't even need stitches.” He looked at Yelena and gave a friendly smile.
You watched Yelena as she gave him a skeptical look, raising an eyebrow. She crossed her arms and her eyes darted between you and then down to where his large hand was gripping tight on your leg.
“Do you two… know each other?” She asked carefully. She met your eyes, giving you a very brief but very clear look that asked if you needed help.
For a split second you were shocked, because you didn't think anyone had ever stopped to check on you this way before. You were no small female. You had rarely met a person who could hope to keep you in place if you fought back, much less wanted to exploit you. The idea that Yelena might think you were in an unwanted situation and was ready to help you was foreign, but it made you instantly like her, for a whole host of reasons.
Once that very fleeting thought had passed, it was replaced by an irrational burst of anger, and you quickly realized that watching someone question Bucky's character like that made you see red. It was unwarranted. You didn't know him, not really. You had to assume he wouldn't be on this team if he was the assaulting type, though.
But you chalked it up to the soulmate bond trying to continue its mission and shook your head just a little as you gave Yelena a nervous smile. She seemed satisfied and returned her gaze to Bucky, waiting for a reply.
“Yelena, this is YN,” Bucky replied. “My soulmate.”
You couldn't help but turn to look at Bucky, eyes just a little wide with disbelief, though you did your best to keep your expression controlled. The way he just said it, strong, unwavering, not the slightest hint of hesitation or embarrassment was so unexpected. You found it hard to look away.
“Oh, alright,” Yelena replied. Her expression relaxed and she gave you a welcoming smile. “Why is this the first time I'm meeting her?”
Yelena gave Bucky a scolding look and you couldn't help but laugh. You were sure you were going to like working with her. You hoped you could even be friends.
“Because we just met,” you explained. “Right now, or, well, right half an hour ago.”
Yelena’s eyebrows raised high in surprise. “Oh, like you just found out you are soulmates? Oh! Congratulations, Barnes, that's great.”
Bucky loosened his grip on your thigh when he was sure you weren't going to make a break for the door and never come back. You stood and approached Yelena.
“I'm the team's new field medic. It's nice to finally meet you,” you said as you held out your hand to her.
Yelena smiled at you, warm and inviting, which you somehow weren't expecting. She ignored your hand and pulled you into a friendly hug.
“Welcome to the team,” she greeted you. “Have you met everyone else yet?”
“Everyone but Ms Starr,” you replied. Yelena let go and you gave her an equally warm smile.
Yelena laughed with a small shudder. “She will not like that. You better learn to call her Ava or even Ghost. And you can certainly call me Yelena.”
“Alright, Yelena,” you replied cheerfully.
“Come on. I'm sure you and Bucky have lots to talk about, but he needs to debrief,” she turned to give him a once over. “And shower,” she added emphatically.
Bucky rolled his eyes at her but got up and followed her beckon to the door. You watched them for a moment before they both turned back around and gave you a questioning look.
“I meant you, too,” Yelena encouraged. “You can hang out in the living area while Bucky debriefs. I'm sure Bob will love the company. You might as well get used to being around everyone, since we're obviously going to be spending a lot of time together.”
You hesitated for a moment, biting at your lip nervously. “Are you sure?” You asked, eyes searching Bucky's face for any sign he changed his mind about you.
Bucky’s expression was steady and warm. “Yeah, doll, come on.”
Unexpectedly, he held out his hand to you. Even more unexpectedly, you took it .