Shooting (BuckyxReader) One-Shot

“Damn it!” you cursed.

You were inside of the old secret Hydra base at the shooting range. Using an ACR gun, you were trying to hit each and every target that the old that still worked computer had set up for you. Every pop up human cut out with targets that were placed over various spots that could kill a human, were missed by you. You couldn’t even hit the targets that were against the wall.

Ever since the accident, you just weren’t the same. A couple of months back you had gotten into an incident that had you in a small coma and when you woke up, you barely remembered anything about your past life. You were still recovering lost information now. When it was declared by the doctors that you would be good to work, you immediately went to the shooting range.

Thank goodness no one was watching you now or else you would be so embarrassed. You wanted to join an organization that did good for once and only the top agencies accepted silked agents. Not someone who could barely even put their gun together when it was dismantled. Something like this should have been drilled into your brain permanently but it looked like a coma could take out almost anything.

“Fuck!” you hissed when you missed another target.

You were way off this time. So off, it was like you weren’t even trying.

“Oh fuck it!” you shouted, shooting the ceiling to let out your frustration.

“Need some help?” a gruff voice asked from the entrance.

You turned on your heel, hand at your hip while your gun rested back on your shoulder. The Winter Soldier, or Bucky, had most likely heard your profanities from outside. He too came to the old Hydra base from time-to-time to see if anyone had left any information regarding him before he became the Winter Soldier. He was still putting the pieces of his past together and he was holding up good, but he still had those nights where he woke up screaming.

“What does it look like?” you asked irritated.

He shrugged and walked towards you. Taking the gun from your hands, he quickly got to work and showed you how a real assassin used a gun. He hit every single target within a blink of an eye. Bucky put the gun down, a small, proud smirk on his lips as he handed it back to you.

“Show off,” you muttered annoyed.

You wished you could possess Bucky’s skill. The man could kill someone or something off so easily. It was like he wasn’t even trying to be that good, he simply just was that way.

“Do you want me to help you or not?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes please,” you nodded with a pink blush blooming at your cheeks.

He nodded and had you step behind the line of fire. You did as you always did. You raised your gun and aimed as best as you could and pulled the trigger. Somehow, you had missed despite having Bucky’s hard glare on you. He was someone who needed everything to be done perfect when it came to all things guns and killing. There was no room for mistakes in his books.

“You’re shaking too much,” he said.

“What do you mean? I’m not shaking at all.”

He shot you a look. “Yes, you are. You’re shaking without noticing. Just look at your hands.”

With a puzzled look on your face, you looked down to see that he was right. Your hands were shaking. Then you noticed how cold the room was. Ever since the Hydra base was shut down, the heating system had stopped working. You were used to being placed in cold temperatures by simply ignoring it but that didn’t mean that your body didn’t react to it. Bucky reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pair of gloves that were his. You looked down at his own gloved hands and looked at him curiously.

“Why do you carry two pairs of gloves?”

“Just in case I lose these in the streets,” he said. “I don’t want someone freaking out over my metal arm.”

“It looks cool to me though,” you said with a shrug. “I don’t see how someone would freak out over it.”

“Well not everyone is like you.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Eh,” he shrugged, frowning.

“Wow,” you sighed.

You quickly put the gloves on and tried to focus on the target ahead of you. Bucky stepped behind you and placed his arms around yours as he lifted the gun to make it more steady and straight before you fired. Him being so close to you threw you off guard but you quickly regained your composure. You relaxed your breath and then tried to remember everything you could about using guns. Spreading your legs apart evenly, you got the confidence to fire.

Your jaw dropped when you saw that you had hit the target on the wall yards away from you.

“I...I did it,” you said in disbelief. “I was finally able to do it.”

“Yeah finally,” Bucky said as he let go of you. “It took you long enough.”

“Thanks for helping me,” you smiled at him.

“It’s no problem but now we have to practice on moving targets.”

“I don’t think I can do that just yet…”

“(Name),” he said giving you a look. “If I can teach a child how to make a grenade, I can teach you how to hit a moving target.”

“You taught a child how to make a grenade?” you gaped.

“No but you know what I mean,” he rolled his eyes. “Now let’s get to work on this already. I’m not leaving until you learn how to shoot like you used to.”

♦♦♦♦♦♦

Bucky plopped down on his seat with a sigh. You were now in a nearby cafe with him, and Bucky had just ordered two beers that were soon on their way. You too sighed, giving him an apologetic look.

“I said I was sorry,” you pouted. “And I said I was bad at shooting moving targets you know.”

“You shot my arm,” Bucky said bemused. “Thank goodness it was the metal one, but still.”

“So we’re not trying that again?” you asked hopefully.

The waiter brought your beers to your table and you watched as Bucky brought his bottle to plump, pink lips and took a swig of his drink. God did that man have such kissable lips. Not like you would ever tell him that anyways. He looked into your eyes mischievously and then suddenly leaned over the table to kiss your lips. You were stunned at this but even more so when you discovered that he was a great kisser.

He pulled back with a smirk on his lips.

“Yes we are actually,” he said like nothing had happened.

“W-Why?” you stammered.