Bucky’s arm wrapped snugly around your shoulders, his other hand tracing soft patterns across your thigh as your legs draped across his lap, both of you sat on the couch in your apartment.

“Do you think they’ll ever make a movie that uses common sense? Or do people genuinely have a death wish?” Bucky spoke, his gaze focused on the horror movie playing on the TV, brows furrowed in scrutiny.

His head whipped around to a knock at the front door, his hand unconsciously tightening on your thigh. His eyes flicked over to you with mild confusion as to who would be here at this time, or ever for that matter.

In a flash, he was up on his feet and shutting off the TV, pulling you with him into the bathroom. He tugged the door shut as he listened in to the voices coming from the front door, and you could make out the shouts of what were either police or some kind of government agents. Here for what? Neither of you had any idea.

Bucky huffed and wrapped an arm tightly around your waist, positioning you both so that he’d be the first to get hit if there were any sort of forced entry.

And of course, he basically jinxed it. The shouts grew more urgent, and loud bangs again the door could only allude to that of a battering ram. Bucky just rolled his eyes and reached under the sink cabinet for one of the many handguns he’d stored around the apartment.

“There goes our security deposit…” He mumbled, ejecting the magazine and checking that there were bullets inside. Satisfied, he shoved it back into the gun and pulled back the slide, grasping the grip tightly as he stood in front of you.

“If this goes south, I want you to get out the nearest window and run. Don’t wait for me.” He told you as he glanced behind him to meet your gaze, his tone of voice leaving you no opportunity to argue or protest.