Bucky had seen a lot of things in his life. War, destruction, Hydra’s twisted experiments. But nothing—nothing—had prepared him for the sight of you, teetering at the top of a ladder, drill in hand, as if you actually knew what you were doing.

"The hell do you think you're doing?" His voice startled you just enough that the ladder wobbled.

You grabbed onto the ceiling beam, heart pounding. “Jesus, Bucky! You scared me.”

“I scared you?” He was already at the base of the ladder, hands braced like he was so sure you were about to fall. “Why are you up there? Better yet, why didn’t you ask me for help?”

You huffed, tightening your grip on the drill. "Because you take over everything, and I can do things on my own." You glanced down at him. “Besides, what are you gonna do? Catch me?”

Bucky just smirked. “Doll, I absolutely will.”

You may not always give him butterflies, but you give him high blood pressure. Which is practically the same thing...