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merrilyroundthebend · 7 years ago

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Exactly the fluff I needed today.

Remember The Pattern || Bucky Barnes x Reader

(A/N): This is more if a one shot so I don’t have a detailed set-up, but this would probably be set about one year after IW, so this reality is v different from the movie. If requested, I will make this into a series. If you want to be tagged in future Bucky fics, let me know!

Warnings: Language and fight training

Word count: 3,400

Dodge and duck left, roll forward underneath them, bend their arm and kick out their knees, twist and restrain them appropriately.

A basic sparring exercise flashed through your brain as you fought, your subconscious waiting for an opening to begin the pattern Bucky had taught you only hours beforehand.

“Hff,” you grunted when Cap flipped you onto your back, jarring your lungs unexpectedly. He lingered half a second too long above you, his sympathetic side taking the spotlight. This one second allowed you to quickly wrap your legs around his calf, pulling yourself straight between his stance and regain your footing. The soldier spun around with surprising speed, his hefty arms already swinging into a punch, but you ducked nimbly, almost falling on your ass.

“C’mon, (Y/N)!” Bucky shouted at you, interrupting your thoughts. He was distanced a few feet away from the mats you were wrestling on with Steve Rogers himself.

Why Tony had decided to train you this way was unknown to you, but according to several Avengers who had dropped into watch, it was effective. Bucky and Cap didn’t normally take training assignments, that was usually Sam or Rhodey’s job, and Natasha would take over in the advanced stages.

“She doesn’t need to train in my style or anyone else’s. There’s something about her that you need to see to understand. She doesn’t need to train at all. She needs experience.” Romanova stated plainly to her leader, who only looked on skeptically.

“She’s new and probably scared. She hardly knows those two, Nat.” Clint interjected before Stark could reply to the red-head.

“Clint has a point. She could get hurt.” The dark haired man set his hands down on the metal table in front of him. “FRIDAY, what’s the girl’s name again? And her other basic information.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), twenty-five years old. She was born and raised in Queens, New York. Supposedly she was also born with her reactive adaptation and strength abilities, but there is still a S.H.I.E.L.D investigation underway to make sure she was not experimented on. Her father was heavily involved with the C.I.A and S.H.I.E.L.D and her mother left after she gave birth.”

“Where’s her father now, FRIDAY?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow at the others who accompanied him.

“Killed in action during a terrorist attack on September 11th, 2001 at the Pentagon.” Her robotic voice hummed monotonously in response, leaving it eerily silent when she stopped talking.

“Damn. Poor kid.” Tony turned his back to everyone, letting out a melancholy sigh and a moment of quiet before be typed something into a blue hologram screen that hovered before him. “Get her started in three days, Natasha. Brief the boys and make sure they can get her semi-experienced within four months. I’m expecting visitors around then.”

“Understood.”

“You better not mess her up, Iron Can.”

“I won’t, Barton.” The billionaire laughed at the insult.

Clint shook his head and walked away, pondering how her “training” would really go.

Now was your chance.

You tucked and rolled underneath Captain’s legs once again, slamming your elbows into the backs of his knees. He tumbled to the floor unceremoniously, landing on his stomach with a thump.

“Shit!” curse words sprung from your lips, fading in with a blur of shouts from your brown-haired coach. Steve had eloquently spun himself into his back because you had no grip on him. He connected his foot with your ankle, using enough force to push over a car. You flew to the ground, smacking your head dully on the bright blue mats. The limber man stood up and placed his boot on your thigh gently, yet in a mocking manner.

“Rookie mistake,” he snorted, his blue eyes piercing your gaze. There was a brotherly tone to every one of his sarcastic retorts and movements.

Your neck was craned upwards to look around, stretching your sore muscles painfully. Your mentor came into view, his arms crossed unhappily.

“Fuck,” you said angrily, dropping your head back to the floor.

“You forgot to get his arm before you got him on his knees.” Bucky said nonchalantly, nudging Steve to get off you. He extended his arm, distracted by something else in the gym, which you ignored and stood up yourself, wincing at the sudden pain in your legs.

You bit at the straps of your tactical hard-knuckle gloves, ripping them off and dropping them on the ground beside a bench.

“There’s easier ways to get him on his knees,” Sam quipped and echoed throughout the gym as he entered.

“Hey!” Steve objected noisily, but you didn’t laugh at their banter.

“Goddamnit.” You muttered, taking a seat. Your head tilted up, your eyes lazily focusing on the blue lighting above. “I can’t get this shit right, can I? It’s been two months, this should be easy.”

“Apparently,” the former Hydra agent smirked. You shifted your head back to him, crushing disappointment painting your face. “Hey, I’m kidding, kid. It’s not always gonna come easily. You said you haven’t fought anything like this before coming to the tower, so why are you angry?”

“I technically have. My dad had taught me nearly everything he knew by the time I was 7, but then he kinda died.”

“Kinda?” Falcon said confusedly, a kind smile playing at his lips. Though the joke wasn’t necessarily light humor, you laughed a little, shaking your head.

“Kinda. Anyways, after I really got control of my powers, I tried to train myself and it went okay, but it wasn’t enough. I resorted to fighting real people when I was 17. Criminals and stuff.”

“Hm.” Was all Bucky replied, scanning you up and down. “I don’t get it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re just mixing up the pattern and that’s the only thing stopping you. Everything else you’ve picked up on incredibly fast. I know that your previous experiences have nothing to do with this - it’s something else, kid.”

“Why do you call me that?” You changed the subject, a familiar ache bubbling up in your throat that you didn’t want to deal with.

“Kid?”

“Yeah.”

“Probably because I’m like forty years only than you?” He chuckled. “It’s a habit.” To try to detach myself from my more-than-friends feelings…

“Yes, but biologically and mentally you’re not even older than thirty-one.”

“And how old are you again?” An eyebrow of his quirked up at your statement.

“Twenty-five.”

“So you don’t want to be addressed that way? Like Peter?” The tall man teased.

“Preferably not.” You grinned at the question he asked.

“Alright, then what else can I call you?”

Steve and Sam both squeezed his shoulders as they exited the training center. “You had a lot of descriptive things to call her earlier today. Why don’t you choose from those, Buck?” The blonde smiled at Sam’s sarcastic bit, throwing a towel over his shoulder.

You looked at the trio, a confused smile taking your happy expression’s place. “What does that mean?”

Bucky looked momentarily panicked before glancing down and collecting himself again. “Nothing, Doll. Let’s get back to work.” He pushed himself up off the bench, waiting for you to follow.

Cap winked right at you before slipping through the door.

“Doll, huh?”

“Is that okay?” He smirked at you again, slipping gloves over his calloused hands.

“Sure.” You tried to reply cooly, but your stomach was doing flips. “Better than kid.”

At the beginning of training, Steve was the talkative one. Bucky had a harder time warming up to you, or anyone for that matter,but within a few weeks he wasn’t just barking orders at you, he was also sharing friendly conversation and encouragement.

For the most part you sparred with Cap, as he was better teaching fighting physical patterns to get them ingrained into your head. Bucky was good at teaching strategy, introducing new concepts and verbally explaining fight methods.

You’d developed an affection for both of them, appreciating Bucky’s patience and Captain’s honesty.

Over the last two months, you realized one little thing that threw you off whenever you were around the dark-haired mentor.

You had a small passion for him, somewhere in the corner of your heart, there was a quaint but fiery adoration for him and everything that he was. You’d seen many parts of him, even the ugly, and you still liked him. He made your throat ache and your heart go ballistic when he said even the littlest of flirty things.

“Go easy on her”, Stark directed the two super-soldiers.

“No, Tony. She needs a challenge. She’ll get killed if you’re only training her in combat that doesn’t match her skill levels. She needs to be pushed in areas she’s not proficient in. Those two take care of hand-to-hand, I’ll work with her and weapon use.” Natasha objected again, trying to make the man see her point.

“If you say so. Listen though, don’t hurt her. I know she’s tough, but there’s only so much she can take. She’s just like us. She knows how to act. Get to know how her mind works. I’m not gonna endanger another recruit. I don’t want anyone’s severe injuries or death my hands. Or yours, for that matter.”

Though at first his words would seem selfish to an outsider, another layer revealed concern and cautiousness. He didn’t want her to end up traumatized and anxious like Peter. Even though the teenager was safe and sound, the boy carried a different weight after the war.

Tony didn’t want her to be like him.

“We’re gonna try the same routine again, okay? Remember the pattern. Don’t forget my arm.” Bucky shook his metal arm as he spoke, reminding you to twist it if you got the opportunity.

You settled into your heels comfortably, your arms up in a defensive posture. Your entire body was anticipating an attack, ready to fight back. As the two if you circled each other, you flecked over minor details on his body, committing them to memory for no apparent reason.

A small piece of a hair had slipped out of it’s ponytail and fell on to the side of his face, framing his cheekbones perfectly. His vehement blue eyes passed yours, down to your arms and legs, trying to read any signs of when you’d move.

He’s pretty.

The only sounds in the room were some light music that played through the speakers and the hum of some air conditioning system Tony had installed recently.

Your ears picked up on several other sounds, though. The heavy breathing coming from your own chest, the noise the mats would make when you lifted your feet and the subtle whir of Bucky’s arm. It was so faint but somehow stuck out to you from all the ambiance of the room.

You shook your head, trying to not let your feelings get stuck on him. He rolled his neck, which for some unknown reason caused you to crack a smile.

Thwack. You rushed forward immediately after smiling, landing a punch in his gut.

He got distracted by me?

The man stumbled backward and spun out of your second charge, pushing you down by the back of your neck. Instead of falling you rolled and stood up again, clenching your fists. He went to throw a punch with his metal arm, which you caught with two hands and pushed back. The two if you traded many damages for several minutes before you noticed an opening.

You slid through, this time pushing his legs out so he’d be falling off balance when you grabbed his arm. Just like you planned, you caught the metal in your gloved hands, one at the base of his shoulder and the other at his forearm, twisting it ruthlessly as he laid face-down. You crouched down quickly, flipping him over and pinning him before he had the chance to use his other limbs. He momentarily struggled against your grip, but the combined forces of super strength only cancelled each other out. You had your fingers around his neck, applying light pressure.

“I’m tapping,” he gurgled out, causing you to sit back on top of his abdomen, beaming triumphantly.

“Fucking finally!” You pumped your fist excitedly.

“That was one way to do it,” he laughed, looking up you, his arms dropped to the sides if his body.

You glanced down, panting heavily, some your hair sticking to your forehead and cheeks. “I got you!”

“You got me.” He rolled his eyes, still glancing between your bodies.

“Oh, sorry I just-” you stuttered, realizing the prolonged position you were in. You scrambled to get off of him and he leaned onto his side, breaths paced unevenly.

“S’okay, Doll.” The man stood up, looking you in the eye with a devilish grin. “How’d you get under me? I wasn’t expecting you to do it right then.”

“The right side of your bottom lip twitches slightly before you go to attack someone or make a big move. I could usually dodge your punches when I noticed.”

That’s gonna sound weird now, oh God now he knows I was staring at his lips…

“Not half bad,” he said jokingly, but in the inside he was excited and nervous. She was noticing all those things about me?

“Jerk.” You responded slyly, sliding off all your training gear.

“Excuse me?”

“What?”

“Did you call me a jerk?” He feigned hurt while watching you take off your hoodie, your back to him. He bit his bottom lip to try and suppress what he really wanted to say to you. Maybe a “you’re really gorgeous when you’re focused on something in a fight. The way each part if you responds immediately to any situation, gracefully adjusting in quick time, or how your head jerks up when you notice something new…

“Maybe I did. Why?” You flipped around, crossing your arms.

“That’s rude.”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” You taunted him, poking your hip to one side.

“Are you ticklish, Doll?”

“What? I-” you were completely unprepared as he rushed forward, wrapping his sturdy arms around your legs and swinging you over his shoulder as he jogged to the mats, setting you stomach-up onto them with a gentle thup. “Barnes I swear to God-”

But before you could threaten him you felt two hands attack your torso, one of them very warm and one of them a steely cold. You giggled, till you couldn’t even breathe, Bucky being unrelenting as you kicked and thrashed at him by reflex.

Your arms came upwards and jerked his neck down, sending him into a heap, his forehead knocking yours before he rolled off of you. He laughed softly at your attempts to gain revenge, your tickles doing nothing.

“What the hell? Are you a robot or something?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“I’m not kidding, why-aren’t-you-ticklish?” You huffed, trying to find any sensitive area on his body. From his arms to above his knees and back up to his stomach.

“I’m just not.” He shrugged.

You gave up, sitting back down onto his body and sighing.

Fuck, not again…

You struggled to get up, apologizing profusely.

“No,” he objected. “Stay.”

“W-what?” Shocked, he pulled you back down, both his hands settling on your waist. You exhaled nervously, half-laughing, half-confused.

“I don’t mind.” He moved his arms again, using then as leverage to sit at an angle, you still straddling his lap. “Tell me more about what I do when I’m fighting.”

Your mind was still reeling over how calm he was, just looking into your eyes, so comfortable with you in his lap. “Well uh, you normally get resting bitch face, like heavy resting bitch face, but this time you just looked focused on something that wasn’t the fight.”

Maybe he actually was distracted by me…

“What else?” One of his hands came up and brushed some stray hairs out of your eyes.

You smiled at him, blushing. “This isn’t very professional, Barnes.”

“Who said it had to be, Doll? Tell me more, please?” A confident side was taking over Bucky.

“Your eyebrows come together then go straight every time you dodge a hit, then you pinch your lips when I do finally manage to punch you. You’re pretty quiet though.” Every inch of your body was buzzing with anticipation at the words he spoke to you.

“How do you notice all this?” The brunet asked, fiddling with the seam on the right side of your shirt. He pinched it between his thumb and pointer finger absentmindedly as you spoke. Your voice was mesmerizing.

“I don’t know. I just do. Sometimes it’s annoying that I’m hyper-observant, and sometimes it’s useful, like when you’re looking at really attractive people.” You bit your lip, trying not to smile. “I think I was distracted by you today.”

“Oh yeah, blame me on all your failures.” He joked, his chest rising and falling with his laugh. “Well, when you fight, you scrunch up your nose a lot. You yell, too. There’s passion in your fighting and I like that. With you, it’s more of a dance than combat practice. When you fall or get hit, your fists clench and relax and you dig your feet into the ground. And when a land a hit on someone else,” he paused to look at her. “Your mouth opens up slightly, almost like you’re surprised, and then you smile from ear to ear.”

“That’s weird,” you laughed at yourself, trying to make an illustration in your head.

“Not really,” he frowned at you slightly. “It usually just makes me want to kiss you.”

You placed your hands on his chest and pushed upward so your back wasn’t hunched over him anymore. You were rigid. Bucky looked on, his face filling with regret and hurt. Your silence grew even louder.

“Mr. Barnes, is this allowed?” You beamed at him suddenly.

“Bucky. I’m Bucky. And I don’t think Stark has made any laws preventing it.” Relief flooded his expression when you spoke, your voice nearly a whisper.

“Then maybe I want to kiss you too.” The man underneath you sat up straight now, his arms wrapped around your back so you wouldn’t fall. You cupped his cheek with one hand and slung the other around his neck, your heart thrumming with an onslaught of fervor.

He leaned into you, bumping your nose with his to savor the quiet moment. You connected your lips, pulling away and coming back together. It felt like waves from the ocean splashing against your body. So synced and consistent but at the same time it carried a blissful, messy, passionate excitement.

Tangled, heaving sweaty bodies working as one in a display of affection. Your fingers had wound themselves in his hair, a pleasant sensation to Bucky.

“There’s cameras here, someone’s gonna see us,” you pulled away to look him in the eyes.

“Maybe should go somewhere else then.” He pressed chaste kisses to your jawline whenever he could.

“Like where?”

“A bedroom, maybe?” his hands wandered on your body, coming to rest underneath your knees.

“I’m not talking about sex, Bucky. Just to let you know.” You raised your eyebrows at him.

“I’m not either, Doll. I think we could take showers and then watch a movie or something, hm? We don’t have to count it as our first date.” He sighed into your neck. “I just wanna be alone with you.”

“Okay, Barnes. I’ll meet you in my room at-” you paused, pulling your arms off of him to look at the watch in your wrist. “-at six. Sound good?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, tracing your lips with his thumb. You gripped his hands and pulled them down to your lap.

“See you later, Buck.” The man kept kissing you as you tried to go, the laughter between you two becoming contagious. You finally got up, leaving him on the ground to watch you go.

“Bye, (Y/N).” His hands felt so empty and he longed for her touch already, but adoration pooled inside of him at the thought of holding you again.

6pm.

Your heart was happy.

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