{ Finally, I wrote a part two! Yay! Also, this gif of Seb is the cutest thing ever and I'm in love. Pretend like he has Bucky hair in it, though, that way it fits in with this one shot. }
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Bucky Barnes was not a monster. You knew this for a fact, just as Steve Rogers did. However, it still came as a surprise when Steve called you out of the blue.

It had been a three weeks since Bucky had made you leave. You had told him to call you if he needed anything, but he never did.

"I'm doing this because I love you."

His words still stung. The first time Bucky ever told you he loved you, and he had told you while practically forcing out of his life. You knew he was doing it to protect you, but that didn't lessen the pain any.

"(Y/n)," Steve breathed into the phone, his voice hushed, as if he didn't want someone to overhear your conversation.

"Steve? What's wrong?" You asked, your own voice filled with concern.

"It's Bucky..." And that was all it took; just the mentioning of his name caused your stomach to do backflips.

"What about Bucky? Is he okay? Did something happen? What happened?" You asked quickly, practically rolling off of your bed and rushing towards your closet.

Needless to say, you hadn't really gone out much since Bucky sent you home. You'd been in one of your "sweatpants and Netflix" moods for the past few weeks, only leaving your apartment to get food.

You held the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you rummaged through the mess, finding a hoodie and leggings. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you weren't quite ready to give up comfort in return for jeans just yet.

After a few moments of silence on the other line, you threw your clothes on the bed and took the phone in your hand again.

"Hello? What's going on?" You asked again, stripping your sweats off and pulling the leggings on.

"He needs you." Steve finally replied, his voice still barely a whisper.

"I told him to call if he needed me. I haven't heard anything from him since the day I left." You answered, struggling to put your gray hoodie on while holding the phone to your ear.

"Do you not know Bucky? He hates asking for help." Sarcastic Steve made an appearance, causing you to roll your eyes.

"Of course," you sighed, leaving your room the second the hoodie was on.

"So you're coming, right?"

"I'm on my way." You shoved your black converses on and pulled the apartment door shut behind you, your car keys dangling from the lanyard around your neck.

You hung up the phone and forced it into your hoodie pocket rather aggressively, your eyes focusing on the sidewalk. It was sprinkling rain and not many people were out; most were probably cuddled up in their houses, enjoying their Sunday off from work. As you reached the parking garage across the street, you climbed into your car and sped off.

Once you pulled up outside of Steve's apartment building, you hesitated. If Bucky really needed you, he should have called. He told you he would.

Soon enough, you were standing in front of the door, your fist banging on it several times before Steve appeared in the doorway.

"Hey," he opened the door, letting you in.

"Where is he?" You asked, walking to the living room and looking around nervously.

"In his room," Steve sighed, "where he has been for the three weeks."

You turned back around to face Steve, your eyebrow raised. Bucky had been doing the exact same thing you had been doing? Man, were you two meant for each other.

You chewed on your lip for a moment before making your way down the narrow hallway to Bucky's room, your hand reaching for the cold, silver knob out of impulse. You pushed the door open, your eyes landing on a scruffy looking Bucky, curled up in the middle of his bed. His blue eyes were focused on the television, thinking you were Steve.

"I told you already, I don't want a damn crescent roll." He growled, looking like an angry yet adorable, fluffy bear.

"Good because I don't have any." You said, walking across the room to the edge of his bed.

Bucky immediately tore his attention away from the television, his eyes softening at the sight of you.

"What're you doing here?" He asked, sitting up.

From his appearance, you could assume he'd given up on shaving. He also had a serious case of bed head, but then again, it was pretty sexy that way.

"Steve called me. He said you," you hesitated before finishing, "he said that you needed me."

"Oh," Bucky exhaled, running a hand over his scruffy face.

You chewed on your lip again, a nervous habit you had never quite been able to break. You glanced at the television and realized he was watching Gladiator.

"So," you looked back at him, sitting on the bed beside him. "I miss you, Buck."

"I miss you, too." His flesh hand reached across the covers, finding your forearm and pulling you towards him.

You laid down beside him, a sense of comfort and relief washing over you from his touch. Everything felt right when you were with Bucky, even if things were difficult.

"Guys," Steve appeared in the doorway, his lips upturning into a smile to see the two of you not arguing. "Do either of you want a crescent roll? I made them this morning, but I can heat some up if--"

"Steve," Bucky gave him a look, "enough with the crescent rolls, pal. You've asked me this two times today."

"You haven't really eaten much since--" Steve stopped himself as he saw Bucky's eyes widen.

You immediately grew suspicious and looked between the two of them until Steve dismissed himself from the room.

"Since what?" You asked, Bucky's hand rubbing your arm soothingly.

"Since you left." He admitted, his baby blues growing sad as he recalled the memory of you leaving the apartment.

"Bucky," you sighed, snuggling into him even more.

"I thought letting you go would be better," Bucky wrapped his metal arm around you, pulling you close, "but I just feel like shit without you, (y/n)."

"Me, too." You admitted, your head resting on his chest as you listened to the steady beat of his heart.

"I'm just scared that I'll hurt you, like I hurt Steve."

"I know, Buck. But I don't care."

"But what if--"

"No, Bucky. No 'but's.' We'll be fine; I'll be fine." You looked up at him, his back still pressed against the headboard.

He just looked back at you, knowing that whatever argument he came up with would not convince you to leave again. Honestly, he didn't want you to leave again. He never wanted you to in the first place, but he did it to keep you safe. However, neither of you were happy the past three weeks and you were sure that you couldn't leave again. Not willingly.

"I love you, you know that, right?" Bucky kissed your forehead, his scruff tickling your skin.

"I know." You half-smiled, your eyes fluttering shut as he did so.

"And you love me, right?" He asked, almost worried that you wouldn't say it back. After all, the last time he had told you he loved you was when he was making you leave.

"Yes, Bucky. I love you, too." You opened your eyes to see a smile spread across his face.

In that moment, you knew that despite the obstacles the two of you had to face, it was all worth it.

Being the cause of Bucky Barnes's beautiful smile would always be worth it.