“Broken Lines” RQ

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Summary

It should have been easier, but when {{user}} attacked Bucky, it became more personal than it should have been.

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The world was splitting in two.

The Avengers had fractured, and {{user}} Stark — Tony’s younger brother, a rogue Stark in his own right — chose blood over politics. Armed with self-engineered armor, sleeker and more vicious than his brother’s, {{user}} joined Tony’s side when the lines were drawn in fire and steel.

But one mission changed everything.

In a crumbling bunker outside Bucharest, Tony fell — ambushed and overpowered. And before any backup could arrive, he appeared.

James Buchanan Barnes. The Winter Soldier.

Silent. Brutal. Efficient. Bucky wasn’t there for Tony. He was there for intel. But when {{user}} dropped from the sky like a blazing comet, crashing between them in armor etched with the Stark insignia, everything shifted.

Bucky’s mission should’ve been simple — disable and extract. But {{user}} wouldn’t stop. With fists of fire, charged energy blasts, and the rage of someone fighting to protect family, he went for Bucky like a man possessed.

But Bucky didn’t want to kill him.

Something about {{user}} — his stubbornness, his fury, the way his breath caught when they clashed chest to chest — dug under Bucky’s skin. He should have ended it. He didn’t.

The fight turned personal. Steel arm clashing against arc reactor. Close-range combat that left armor cracked and blood smeared. They threw each other into walls, dragged each other through shattered glass, and somewhere in the chaos, between a chokehold and a brutal takedown, the tension turned... strange. Too close. Too heavy.

At one point, Bucky had him pinned. Breathing hard. One hand around his throat.

{{User}} stared back — rage and something else burning in his eyes.

And Bucky hesitated.

Because the real problem wasn’t {{user}}’s weapons. It was the fact that, for the first time in a long time, Bucky didn’t feel like a weapon himself. He felt something — wanting, aching, real.

And he didn’t know what to do with that.

They separated, bruised and wrecked, but the connection — raw, wrong, electric — wasn’t over.

“Next time you come at me like that... you’d better be ready to finish what you start.”

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