#drunk bucky

[buckyalpine]

Give me drunk Bucky who wakes up in your bed, confused over why he's in the softest pj's he's ever felt and for some reason wearing a giant fur coat he can only assume is from a pimp because who else would own such a thing.

What the hell happened

Mere hours earlier; 3:30 am, Guys night

"Noooooo" Bucky howled, letting his body go deadweight while Thor continued to carry him to his room, the only one strong enough to get the soldier off the floor after he'd polished the bottle of Asdargian mead clean. "Wanna see y/n"

"Yeah, can't imagine what y/n would say if she saw you being carried off like a princess" A very tipsy Sam and Steve followed behind while Bucky's bottom lip jutted out into an exaggerated pout, head thrown back with is eyes closed in defiance "She's still off on that mission, she'll be back soon, you can see her then-

Before Steve could finish, Bucky's eyes shot open, scrambling out of Thor's arms and stumbling towards your room. There was no time to stop him from entering, a drunk giggle slipping past his lips as he let himself in and sighed contently. By the time the three men reached, Bucky's shirt had already been discarded beside his socks.

"Oh no- Steve snorted at the sound of Bucky's belt bucky hitting the floor, his lip sticking out in concentration as he tried to work at the button of his jeans.

"Barnes, I swear if you take your pants off-Damn it" Sam huffed, a pair of black jeans landing on his head. "At least keep your boxers-Oh hell nah" He ducked before Bucky's intimates became aquainted with his face. "Don't you dare helicopter that third leg-he's doing it"

No one intervened as Bucky decided to make himself more comfortable, clearly missing you as he sighed, walking over to your closet. He was in there suspiciously long before emerging with-

"Buck, those are-

"Soft" Bucky hummed, coming out of your closet with a set of pj's you wore often, oversized so they'd be extra comfy. Bucky giggled at the smell of your soft scent, slipping the shirt over his head and putting the pants on, flopping on your bed like a cat. "Smells like y/n"

"Do we just leave him here"

"At least he's wearing pants" Steve sighed, frowning when he heard running footsteps approaching along with a chaotic cackling, who else would be still this active at this hour-

"There you guys are!! We're doing body shots off of- wait you're here. C'mon capsicle, take your shirt off-

"For fucks' sake Tony"

"Where the hell did you get that jacket" Sam's face scrunched when he notice Tony's shirt was missing however he was in a large coat which he'd thrown off, the pile of for landing on a half sleepy Bucky. Bucky's eye peeked open at all the fuss, wrapping himself up in the coat and blissfully falling asleep with his face in your pillow, the rest of the chaos mere white noise.

"SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS-"

"TONY NO"

"TONY YES"

Present

"What do we have here" you coo, giggling at a very disoriented Bucky who blinks up at you with puppy eyes, a pink blush spreading on his face. You'd just returned from your mission with Nat, the entire compound still reeking of alcohol, the hallway littered with various still drunk Avenger men. The only thing that cut through the smell was the fresh breakfast a happy Thor had already started, the only one standing as if nothing had happened.

You'd stepped over a sleeping Sam and Steve in the hallway to get to your room, cocking a brow at the large mound of fur and soft snoring sleeping in your bed.

"Good morning, sweet boy" You brushed back Bucky's hair, bending down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, letting him take his time to figure out his surroundings, "have a fun night"

"Missed you" he mumbled, pulling you to lay on the bed so he could cuddle up with you, his head now resting on your chest instead. "Missed you so much"

"I missed you too, bub" You continued to gently play with his hair, happy your boyfriend got to have a night of fun and thankful that you always kept painkillers in your bedside drawer. Poor baby was going to need it. You noticed the pile of clothes that were thrown on the floor, they were definitely Bucky's but Bucky was in clothes so what was he wearing-

"Buck?"

"hm?" "Are those my pjs?"

[suspiciousspidey]

THE LIL PINKY PROMISE

I LOVE DRUNK BUCKY SO MUCH

Maybe Later- B. Barnes

Pairings: bucky barnes x reader, sam wilson, thor odinson Warnings: alcohol, bucky is drunk (ooc? Have we ever seen him drunk i watched all of his scenes lol) About: this quote thing. I dont know if i got what i was aiming for. (“marry me” “maybe later”

Three-oh-two glows red in pinched little lines on your alarm, blunt in the darkness of the room and sharp against the pale light the moon manages through margins between your curtains. The numbers are smudged in sleep as you blink awake from what was meant to be a short rest for your eyes, bent and refracted like you’re looking through a finger-smudged window. You could easily mistake it for a dream if your phone weren’t singing loudly from your bedside table.

With a groan, you slam a hand over it, the piercing noise insistent even with your fingers wrapped around its width. You squint against the brightness of the screen, sitting up when you recognize Sam’s contact name in bold white letters.

“Hello?” you greet tiredly, rolling your shoulders as your weariness begins to pass. The rivets of your jeans dig into your abdomen, your casual shirt proves itself not soft enough for sleep, and you pick at the shoulder. The blankets are creased and made beneath you.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.” Sam’s voice comes through rough and curved in a smile you can see through the phone. “Got somethin’ for you.”

You blink at the wall. “What?”

“A grumpy old man.”

“Which one?” An amused crackle smothers the delicate silence. “What happened to twelve? I tried to wait.”

“Someone had a little too much to drink.” There’s commotion from the other side of the line, a joyous yell and shattering. Sam groans loudly.

“Well, Asgardian liquor tends to stir something in our Avengers,” you mumble, scooting to the edge of your bed to squeeze on your shoes, squished and set next to you at the ready.

“You have no idea.” Sam mutters. Bucky’s voice suddenly comes through, distant and too distorted to make out specifics. “Incoming.”

“I have a little one,” you digress, lashes kissing at their edges in your search for the car keys that had been at your hip. 

“Hey, what the hell was that noise--” Sam begins, far away, before he’s abruptly cut off. “Hey--”

“Honey?” Bucky’s voice is loud enough that you wince and pull the speaker away from your ear, catching a glint from your bed. “S’that you?”

“Yeah, darling, it’s me,” you murmur, voice a little honeyed as you hook a finger through the car key ring peeking from behind a pillow.

“I miss you,” his words bump into each other, so heartfelt he can’t get them out fast enough with a heavy tongue. “Will y’come get me please?”

“I’m on my way. Don’t get into too much trouble,” you command gently, jaw against the soft flesh of your neck to keep your phone steady while you pull at your left shoe.

He makes a disgruntled noise. “F’course not.”

“Don’t drink any more, you’re going to have a killer hangover tomorrow as it is.” You step out of your room and make your way to the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor.

“That is not true. My tolerance is,” he hiccups and bursts into a startled laugh, “high. Way higher than Steve’s.”

“Is that true?” You chuckle, stepping out once the doors have parted. 

“Yeah,” Bucky affirms agreeably.

“Interesting. Can’t wait to see how Golden Boy is doing.”

“Not great, but at least he’s having fun,” Sam cuts in, Bucky’s indignance about it muffled over the phone. “He’s going to regret--Barnes, give me a second--he’s gonna regret ever touching the--Barnes, damn it--the stuff. You asshole, you have your own phone--”

There’s a click and then silence, where you’re left staring amusedly at a dimming screen with one foot ready to climb into your car. “Well then,” you mumble, shutting off the device before you set it neatly in the cupholder between the two front seats. After you’ve turned on the engine and begun to set off, you turn mournfully to the clean inside of your car and hope ceaselessly that it’ll stay that way.

You’re only a few minutes from Sam’s house when your phone rings out a familiar bouncy tune you’d had Bucky pick out for his identifying ringtone. It was sweet and melancholy all at the same time, and it had taken him ten seconds and a look at your beaming face for him to label it as his.

His voice is stretched out and mournful when you answer, your name replaced with a rare Baby?

“Hey, honey. Found your phone?”

He ignores you, breathing out a long sigh. “I miss you.”

“We just talked on the phone,” you laugh. “I haven’t even given you a chance to miss me yet.”

He seems to mull it over for a short moment, elongated in his hazy mind. “Are you on your way?”

“I’m almost there.”

“That’s good because I miss you.”

“Do you now?” you hum.

“Steve knows,” Bucky pillars.

“I bet he does,” you laugh. Bucky hums in confirmation. “How much have you had to drink?” you ask. “You even sound a little different.”

“I missed this,” Bucky muses drily. “I love Asgard.”

“You’re going to take that back tomorrow.” You turn and spot the name of Sam’s street. “But it’s okay because I’ll take care of you.”

What follows you don’t expect. Bucky breathes out loud, nearly doleful, coming out static on your end.

You frown. “Bucky? Is something wrong?”

“No,” he sulks, a complete lie.

You don’t bother pushing him when he’s more stubborn than usual and you’re only a voice on his phone. “If you say so. I’m almost there, okay? I’m going to hang up now.”

“Don’t hang up. I want to hear your voice.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” you catch sight of Sam’s house. “I hang up, and you’ll get a lot more than my voice in a minute. What do you think?”

There’s a petulant sigh on the receiver. “What about the wonders of technology?”

“What happened to ‘we did just fine in the forties’?”

He says your name long and pleading.

“You get very dramatic when you’re drunk, you know that? I’ll be with you before you know it.”

“No. No… c’mon, please, dove.”

“I’m pulling in!” you exclaim.

“I don’t see you.”

“That’s not surprising. Seeing through walls isn’t a super-solder ability as far as I know,” you tease, shutting off the engine and unbuckling yourself. You nestle your phone between the soft crook of your neck as you open the door.

You can see Bucky pout through the phone.

“I’m coming in. Stop gossipping about me to the guys, okay?” you goad, coming to a stop in front of the door. It’s only a glance at the doorbell before Sam, bare-chested, appears in the doorway, haloed by light and smoke from his house. You gape at him. “Why are you--”

“Get him out of my house.”

“I’m trying,” you muster, letting him usher you inside. The house is a mess, with Avengers strewn on the couches and cups everywhere.

“Get them all out of my house. Why did I volunteer to host?”

You shrug, shaking your head as you observe the mess.

Bucky says your name from the phone, reminding you that he’s still on the line, but you don’t need to answer once you spy him in a kitchen seat next to Steve, slumped next to him.

Bucky’s face is bothered, his voice echoed each time he says something. Once you’re a few steps behind him, you hang up and slip your phone into your pocket.

Bucky grunts, pulling a face as he stares at his phone, fingers already moving to your contact just when you position yourself close enough to feel the heat of him on your skin. It’s only a moment testament to his inebriation before he turns, furrowed brows softening when his eyes meet yours. His phone clatters to the table, forgotten.

He murmurs your name, kind and relieved in a melancholy shade. Vibranium fingers twine their way between yours.

“Hey,” you whisper. “I found you.”

“You found me,” he parrots softly, pulling you closer nearly on instinct.

Your free index reaches up to brush a stray strand of brown hair from his face, grazing the warm skin of his forehead, and he leans into it, his other hand going up to grab it too.

You can’t help your smile, dipping down to constellate kisses along his hairline. “Ready to go home?”

He hums his agreeance, watching you with honey eyes. When he moves closer to you, Steve’s elbow slides down the table. With a quick swoop, you remove a hand from Bucky’s hold to cradle Steve’s head before it can slam down onto the surface. You turn to Sam in bewilderment. He shrugs.

Carefully, you set him down on the table, awkwardly patting his hair. “Didn’t think Captain America would go down because of alcohol poisoning, but I guess it had to be something.”

Bucky pulls on the hand he’s still holding, bringing your attention back to him.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, crouching to be able to see him better.

He grins dumbly, majorly soft. “You look pretty.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the pleased little swoop of your heart. “You look pretty too, you know that?”

“He knows,” Sam cuts in, near accusing toward you.

“Shut up, Sam,” Bucky mumbles.

Sam scowls. “In my own damn house.” He moves to Steve, draping him over himself. “I’ll see you tomorrow, gotta lug all these idiots onto their sides.”

“Okay,” you laugh, “thank you, Sam.”

He grunts in reply, leaving you and Bucky alone. He’s already looking at you when you turn to him again.

“Do you need help getting up?” you ask. He shakes his head but you throw his arm over your shoulder anyway, pulling him to his feet. He’s heavy but at least somewhat steady with your help. “God, Buck.”

“”S all muscle.”

“I know,” you assure amusedly.

The walk only lasts a couple of seconds before Bucky begins to sway. You try your best to hold him up, but are forced to slump into a couch with him when the top of your left knee bumps into one. Instead of helping, Bucky clamps his fingers around your wrists when you move to get up. He’s staring again.

“What?”

“Y’came to pick me up,” he says, as if just realizing it. “All the way here.”

“Of course. I gotta get you home, baby.”

He grasps your hand. “Baby,” he repeats favorably.

You don’t usually call him that, and even in his drunken stupor, he realizes it.

“What’s the time?” he demands suddenly.

“Three? Four?” you assume, preoccupied with sitting up. He’s distracted enough to sit by as you stand, knees bumping into his. “Very late. Or, early, I suppose.”

He inhales deeply, staring up at you with his lovely eyes.

“What’s wrong?” you query immediately, voice dropping to a softer pitch.

“You came for me,” he echoes.

“I did,” you agree patiently. “Wanna stand up so we can get home?”

“I love you.” It’s the most sober he’s sounded.

“I love you too,” you assure, dipping down to hold his jaw between your fingers. A demuring thumb swipes across his cheek. “You know that.”

“I do,” he whispers.

You smile, squeezing him lovingly between your palms, nebulously elated that he knows he’s loved. “Up,” you murmur, pulling on him until he’s just above hovering over the couch.

“Marry me,” he blurts, as if it’s been on the tip of his tongue, words carved earnestly and permanently; overdue.

You smile at him, focused on bringing and keeping him on his feet. Once he is, you take small steps toward the door. “Maybe later.”

“Y’promise?” he’s your hazy eyes when you’re focused entirely on him, cupping the sharp point of a chair before you can bump into it. Clumsily, he pulls open the door, wanting to wait until you’re out first but you don’t let him.

“I do,” you respond as you guide him to your car, helping him crawl in and looping an index around his seatbelt. His fingers interrupt you before the buckle has grazed further than his chest. “Bucky?”

He extends his pinky and stares at you pointedly.

Complying, you curve your pinky around his.

He’s satisfied, letting you buckle him in and watching as you round the car to your seat.

“Thor should come more.”

“We’ll see,” you laugh, starting the engine.

He pulls at the arm nearest to him before you can begin driving, extending his fingers out expectantly. It’s familiar but strange to see from the driver’s perspective. Still, you obey.

“I’m hungry,” he declares, settling in as you drive. “Can we get pizza?”

“Maybe later.”

[kaipassedgo]

every day i wake up and am mad at the end of steves storyline and the full and complete lack of people who GET IT

[sunday-bug]

just bucky barnes heading out to a boys night, getting a bit smashed & texting you all night.

he definitely doesn’t end up at your place after the bars close practically bursting at the seams - and of course, you let him in.

“need to have you right now, doll.”

[evlia]

I’m thinking about roommates buck and bucky. They are both helplessly and miserably in love with each other, but of course neither of them says anything, because of the fear that it’s one sided and that it might ruin their perfect friendship. There’s so much tension between them and miscommunication and looking at each other in longing and evenings spent together on the couch and mornings filled with the smell of the coffee and soft good mornings, but it stays like that, it’s too good to be ruined by the kiss, sudden and maybe a bit aggressive, because it’s been so long and “I’ve wanted to do this from the moment we met”

So what if one night bucky gets a call from marge, telling him that gale needs his help and gives him the address and when john gets there, it’s some shady bar and he’s immediately concerned. When he goes inside he finds marge sitting in front of gale who is resting his head on the table. Gale’s sitting with his back towards john so he doesn’t know that he’s there. Marge gives him a small wave and john gets closer and that’s when he hears gale’s voice. He’s drunk. He’s obviously so drunk and Gale doesn’t drink? But then he manages to catch the words and john immediately gets frozen on spot. His speech is bit slurred but bucky hears him just right. And what if gale is almost whining about how “he has the most beautiful smile you know?” “Have you seen him smile marge?”, “and he’s so big too like how is that even fair?” “Oh and the mustache? At first I was like what the fuck but now I can’t stop thinking about it. I think it would feel so good. You know what else would feel good?” Thats when Marge gives john the look that says “SAVE ME”

[stiffyck]

Assorted mcu doodles of various aus

@howdywallflower tagging u cuz ur the co-parent of these aus

[porcelain-moths]

Sambucky having a late night drinking sesh and Bucky just adoringly looking at Sam as he slowly gets tipsier and tipsier

Sam is laughing at his every joke and Buckys heart is soaring, the shine in Sam’s eyes and the sound of his laughter is everything to him

Sam is telling elaborate stories barely even stumbling words even with now excited he is and he grabs Buckys hand and doesn’t seem to let go even after he settles

Bucky becoming super still hoping Sam doesn’t notice and take his hand away but Sam is just staring at him with a small smile

They sit for a while until Sam starts getting tired and then they reluctantly get up to get ready for bed and Bucky helps him to bed after Sam stumbles

[buckyalpine]

Drunk Bucky wants uppies

Fluffy crack drabble. Bucky wants uppies.

He's drank the teams entire body weight in alcohol and he's never felt happier. His flushed cheeks almost hurt from the dopey grin he has on his face. He keeps giggling to and snickering to himself, twirling around the straw of a pink fruity drink, deciding it doesn't count as alcohol when it looks so pretty. He's basically drinking water, just as Steve instructed.

After a few more glasses of his spicy water, he stands up and immediately lands face flat onto the floor with a muffled -oof

His current state is more amusing than concerning; Steve and Sam howl with laugher at the super soldier who is currently making no effort to get up.

"You good tin man?"

"wanupy" His voice is muffled, mumbling something with his face still pressed to the soft carpet of the compound living room while you go over to kneel beside him to see how he's doing.

"What is it Buck" You whisper, carding your fingers through his soft locks, smiling at the way he hums, rolling around to flop on his back instead.

"Uppies" He looks at you with outstretched grabby hands, puppy eyes wide, hoping you'd scoop him right up and take him to his room. Never mind that he's over a foot taller and probably double your weight, he wants to be carried right now.

"Uppies?"

"Uppies" He nods with confidence, blinking and waiting patiently to be picked up while you giggle.

"Did he just say uppies?" Sam stares and Steve before looking back at the 6ft+ man acting like a baby on the floor. "The former Winter Soldier, scary assassin, the man that threw me off the edge of a building just said he wants uppies?"

"Yes. Yes he did" Steve ran a hand over his face, debating on helping or watching this play out. He decided on the latter.

"I can't carry you Buck, you're too heavy" You coo, running your finger over his pouty lips pulled into a frown.

"M'not heavy" Bucky huffed in offence, throwing an adorable tantrum, refusing to move. In all fairness, at this point he wasn't able to get up himself anyway. "Uppies please"

"Alright, c'mon punk" Steve snorted, getting up from the stool he was sitting at along with Sam, both men picking Bucky off the floor and walking towards the elevator.

"Fuckin' uppies, how much do you weigh" Sam grunted while Bucky let out a sleepy yawn, his head resting on Steve's shoulder. Both men waited for you to open the door before helping him into bed.

"Wan cuddles" Bucky mumbled, reaching out for you to join him with his best pout.

"Okay I'm out, cuddles is where I draw the line" Sam playfully pushed you into Bucky's outstretched arms while Steve threw you a wink, both men softly closing the door behind them leaving you two alone.

"You want cuddles?" You whispered, squeaking when Bucky flipped you onto your back with ease, deciding to use you like a human pillow.

"Cuddles" He nodded, quickly falling asleep afterwards, blissfully unaware that Sam would never let him live this moment down.

[bigtreefest]

This was so sweet, I hope Bucky remembers it in the morning and doubles down instead of getting embarrassed🥺

Ficlet Friday?

A slightly buzzed Bucky just being the cutest or in love or both. Definitely a fluff-ficlet. Your choice on which Bucky 😉

I tried to make it fluffy, nonnie, but it does have a touch of angst. Sorry!

Pretty Girl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: Over 700

Warnings: Tipsy Bucky, encouraging friends, slight angst

You were reading a book in the lounge when laughter rang out through the hall, a smile touching your lips. The guys decided to do a “boys' night out” and it sounded like they had a good time. Between being heroes and the trials and tribulations they all went through, they deserved it.

“Hey! Pretty girl!”

You didn't turn toward the sound of Bucky’s voice immediately as much as you wanted to. Glancing around, you were the only one in the lounge, so who was he talking to? It would mean everything for him to call you pretty, but you were just… you.

“Steeeeve. I don’t think she heard me,” Bucky loudly whispered.

“Then say it again with feeling,” Steve loudly whispered back.

“Got it.” Bucky sucked in breath which gave you enough time to cover your ears. “HEY! PRETTY GIRL!”

“Jesus Christ, I can hear you guys,” you confirmed, shutting your book. There went your quiet evening. “I guess stealth isn’t your strong suit tonight.”

You shrieked when Bucky suddenly sat beside you, casually throwing an arm over your shoulders. Okay, he was still stealthy, and he looked amazing in his jeans and henley. “There’s my pretty girl. I missed you,” he smiled.

“Um…” You looked around to find Steve, Thor, Sam, Joaquin, and Clint hovering by with expectant looks on their faces. You tried to come up with something witty, but all you said was, “What?”

Bucky chuckled, his cheeks a bit more pink than usual. “My pretty girl is adorable, isn’t she?” he said over his shoulder before looking at you with hearts in his eyes.

You leaned in to get a closer look at him, catching a small whiff of liquor mixed with his cologne. “You’re tipsy,” you said. How was that possible?

“No, I’m Bucky. And you’re pretty,” he smiled, the dreamy look still in his eyes. “Pretty eyes, pretty smile, pretty voice. Even your name’s pretty.”

As happy as you were to hear those things, even as your heart pounded, you looked to the guys for help because Bucky couldn’t be serious. “How?”

“My apologies,” Thor spoke even louder than usual. “I shared some of my Asgardian liquor with Barnes and Rogers and… Well-”

“Bucky hasn’t shut about you,” Sam cut in, rolling his eyes. “‘My girl is the prettiest girl there is.’”

“‘Isn’t my girl brilliant? And so kind!’” Clint mocked.

“‘Her smile just lights up the room’,” Joaquin added.

“Guys, c’mon. It’s sweet,” Steve smiled before he said, “‘I’ll bet her kisses even taste pretty.’”

Heat filled your cheeks. Bucky didn’t deny a thing, so they were telling the truth, weren’t they? “But I’m not-”

The former Winter Soldier placed a hand on your cheek, drawing your attention back to him. “Don’t look at them, pretty girl. Look at me.”

You did, and it made you want to cry. Because you weren’t his girl. He was only saying these things because he was tipsy. “Okay. You had your fun, so why don’t you get some sleep?”

His smile fell away. “No,” he muttered, pulling you into his lap in the blink of an eye and putting his face in your neck. “I’m fine right here.”

His lips against your skin had you shivering, and it wasn’t possible to break from his hold. Being this close felt like a dream, but he was tipsy and you had to be the responsible one. “Um… a little help?” you asked.

“Of course.” Thor stepped forward. “Allow me.”

You smiled at the God of Thunder. “Thanks, I…” You stopped when he draped a blanket over you and Bucky. Where did that even come from? “That wasn’t what I-”

“And some water,” he smiled as Bucky nuzzled your neck with a happy moan. You tried not to let that moan turn you on. You had to be good. “Men, let us take our leave.”

“Behave, jerk,” Steve said as Thor shuffled everyone from the room.

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky snarled, nuzzling you again. The lights dimmed, too. It was almost romantic. “Not you, pretty girl. You can say whatever you want.”

You had to laugh. Laughter was better than worrying about what would happen in the morning. “So, I’m your pretty girl?”

“Yep,” he said with a smile. “All mine.”

“Okay, Sarge,” you smiled sadly. “I’m your pretty girl.”

Relaxing in his hold, you could pretend until he was sober that you were.

Love and thanks for participating in Ficlet Friday! ❤️ And this one may be fun to continue.

[ad-astra-per-aspera-1389]

Steve: Five years ago I married my best friend.

Steve: Bucky's still mad about it, but Natasha and I were bored and thought it would be funny.

[avonne-writes]

https://www.tumblr.com/avonne-writes/744097471832129536/once-just-once-buck-agrees-to-drink-alcohol-and

I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT HOW BUCKY WOULD REACT TO THIS?

It took all of Bucky's charms to convince Gale to drink with them on Bucky’s 25th birthday. He begged and pleaded and cajoled him with his best puppy dog eyes until that half-suppressed smile appeared on Gale's face, and he said. "Suppose I can stomach one glass."

So, they went to the nearest bar in town with all the other cadets who had a weekend pass. Bucky got them both a stiff drink, and they clinked glasses before throwing them back, to the cheers of Bucky's friends. Well, Bucky threw it back. Gale gave it a long look, then took about half a sip.

Bucky could see him shudder, his plump lips purse. He leaned back against the bar, his elbows on the counter, and snorted a laugh. "I can take it off your hands if you don’t like it."

Gale just gave him a glance from the corner of his eye, then poured the whole thing down his throat. A muscle tightened in his jaw as he put his glass down, probably fighting nausea. He turned and put his palms flat on the bar as if to steady himself as the burning liquid settled in his stomach.

Bucky nodded at him, trying and failing to hold back a grin. "Look at you."

It was hard to tell in the bar's warm light, but Gale's cheeks seemed pink already. He blinked at his empty glass, then looked at Bucky and smiled as though he thought something was very funny. "Happy birthday."

Bucky's grin widened. He squeezed Gale's shoulder, then turned to gesture for the barkeep. "Another one for me and a ginger beer for my friend."

-

Bucky was on his third drink and just about starting to feel the buzz of it in his limbs when he noticed Gale watching him. They were seated in a booth by then, trapped in the corner by all the other guys who came to celebrate with them. Their friends were trying to outyell each other as they all fought to tell the same story to a pair of hapless girls they managed to invite to the table. So no one paid any attention when Bucky turned to look at Gale and found him looking back. For a moment, they just stared into each other's eyes, then Gale averted his and smiled. Again, as if the world around him was the most amusing thing ever. He was flushed, his blue eyes shiny.

Bucky's lips curled into a wide grin. "Feeling good?" He asked. When Gale tried to control his smile and failed to wipe it off his face, he laughed. "Got you good, didn't it?"

Gale rubbed at his forehead and leaned against Bucky's side. His gaze lacked its usual sharp gleam and his hand moved in less measured gestures than usual - he was completely buzzed. "I'm fine."

"I can see that." Bucky chuckled. The fact that Gale was a lightweight didn't surprise him at all. Originally, he had thought that maybe he could get a few more drinks in him, but seeing him after only one, he knew that sticking to ginger beer for the rest of the night would probably be for the best. "Do you need some air?"

Gale shook his head. Then, Bucky felt it - under the table, Gale's fingers were hooked into the belt of his uniform. Who knew when they found their way there. They clung to him as he leaned back in his seat, and Gale’s shoulders followed to find his again. A muscle twinged in Bucky's chest. His grin faded into something more muted as he studied Gale's flaming face, the way his smile dug deeper lines into his cheek whenever he glanced in Bucky's direction from the corner of his eyes, the way he bowed his head, and the shadows his eyelashes cast.

He couldn't resist, he bumped his knuckles lightly against Gale's cheek. It felt hot to the touch. The gesture made Gale snicker, then hide his face behind his free hand as he often did when he didn't want to draw attention to his laugh. With butterflies fluttering in his stomach, Bucky slid his arm behind Gale, palm coming to rest warmly on Gale's shoulder. He felt his own face heat up when, instead of staying still as usual, Gale leant his whole weight into the embrace as if he was starving for it. He even tipped his head back to rest it on Bucky’s arm. His hand slipped to Bucky's thigh.

Bucky looked around, but none of their friends seemed to notice. Most of them were also well on their way to drunkenness. Only he was running behind, it seemed. A situation he couldn't say he was familiar with, but given the state Gale was in, he thought that was a lucky thing. He leaned in to whisper into Gale's ear.

"Do you wanna leave?"

Gale closed his eyes, still smiling, then nodded. That was all Bucky needed. With some effort, he managed to extricate them out of the booth, crawling over some of the guys, who shoved at him playfully before getting up to let Gale out too. Gale moved slowly, with the caution of someone who was doing his best not to appear drunk, but if someone knew him well enough, the abundance of joy in his expression was a dead giveaway. Buck Cleven wasn't prone to smiling at nothing or to moving his gaze back and forth between Bucky and the rest of the bar instead of keeping it fixed on one thing. Bucky pretended to be drunker than he was just to have an excuse to throw his arm around Gale. He started singing, and felt Gale's arm squeeze tight around his waist.

"Buck, you gotta do something before we all go deaf!" One of the guys called out to raucous laughter. Gale snickered again, clinging to Bucky a bit harder, then he started pushing Bucky towards the door.

"I'm coming back for that dice game, Bill!" Bucky pointed at them, and they all waved their arms at him to just leave already so that they could continue trying to woo the girls.

He and Gale made it outside in a few minutes.

They stumbled into a dark alley nearby, where Gale tugged at the lapels of Bucky's uniform until Bucky kissed him. His lips parted pliantly for Bucky's tongue, and he tasted so sweet that for a moment, Bucky thought he might get drunk on it too. It was a nice, languid kiss. Bucky could have pushed for more but he forced himself to pull back, because he had a feeling that a back-alley romp wasn't what Gale was actually being so needy for, and he could tell that he was right when the first thing Gale did when they parted was to drop his head to Bucky's shoulder.

When Bucky slid his hands up Gale's arms to his back to hug him, he wrapped his own arms around Bucky's waist. He sighed as the embrace closed around him.

They stayed like that for so long that Bucky thought Gale might have fallen asleep standing. But as he tried to pull away, the arms around him tightened.

Bucky breathed in deep. "You wanna sleep in my room tonight?" And this time, that was all he meant, sleep. He could sneak Gale into his hotel room, and they could cuddle as much as Gale needed.

Gale took a deep breath too and straightened up. He let Bucky go to rub at his own face. "Sorry about that." He cleared his throat. A frown formed between his eyebrows. It seemed that he was sobering up. "No, I'll be all right. You go back. It’s your birthday after all. I think I will - go find a ride back to base."

"I'm not going back without you."

Gale looked at him. Even in the dim light, Bucky could tell that his eyes weren't quite clear yet, but some of the haze was gone. "I need a few more minutes."

Bucky leaned back against the wall and lit a cigarette. With his free hand, he reached out to hold Gale's. He was pleased when Gale didn't pull away. "I can wait."

Gale watched him wordlessly with that tipsy little smile on his face until Bucky finished his cigarette. When the last of it burnt down, Bucky threw the stub away and stepped into Gale's space again. He gave him a chaste kiss.

Gale bumped his forehead to his, then moved away. "I'm not drinking another one."

Bucky laughed and pushed him towards the main street. "Why not?"

[bigtreefest]

My heart. I love fluffy Bucky

If Bucky Could Get Drunk

Bucky Barnes x female reader: drabble (Fluff)

Word Count: 387

If Bucky could get drunk, he’d be the adorable kind. Each sip of whiskey breaks down the walls of his harsh and stoic exterior until he’s a sweet, smiling mess. He gets involved in drinking games, he laughs at Steve’s bad jokes, he tries to slip Peter drinks when Tony isn’t looking.

“He’s nearly 18.” He grumbles when Tony swats his hand away.

Bucky’s obvious change in demeanour is a nice surprise for everyone except you. You watch happily from across the room as he publicly becomes more like the man that you’ve come to love in private. When he meets your gaze, Bucky’s smile only gets bigger. He looks you up and down, and he’s not exactly being subtle about it. As the others catch wind of what’s going on between you, they tease him mercilessly. No matter how much he threatens them now, they’ll always be reminded of the loving man that you and a little bit of alcohol can turn him into. And maybe they’re right. Right now, all he wants to do is saunter over and lean down to stroke your hair and whisper about how much he cares about you until you’re blushing just as much as he is. But as the room starts to slowly spin around him, Bucky resolves to longing stares and subtle winks.

And when he’s finally had too much, you’ll roll your eyes and get him a glass of water. He watches as you stride past him into the kitchen, letting his gaze linger on your figure. A small smirk crosses his face at the many different thoughts racing through his brain. Some are sweeter than others, but they all revolve around you. They clear as soon as you return with a full glass. He pouts at the sight, eyes glazing over as his cheeks flush.

“Drink.” You say softly, handing it to him.

“Yes ma’am.” He smirks teasingly, looking up at you as he leans forward.

For a minute, you think he’s going to listen to you. And for once, he does. He takes the glass, but not before pulling you into his lap and spilling half the water in the process. Your lips part to scold him, but then he starts nuzzling into your neck and your anger fades.

“My girl, always looking after me.”

[emodrstan]

Bucky: We have to go to Joaquin and Rumlow's wedding, we're the bride's dads remember?

Sam: What? No! I don't wanna do that!

Bucky: You're going to have a good time.

Sam: No, no, no, no!

Bucky: You might meet some new people.

Sam: No, no, no, no!

Bucky: Even make some new friends.

Sam: No, no, no, no! No, no, no, no! No-no, no-no, no-no, no-no! No!!

[lithiumseven]

The Dodgers (who moved from Brooklyn to LA in 1958) are playing the Yankees this year in the World Series which is funny for a lot of reasons, but also imagine Bucky Barnes in the stands fully decked out in Yankees gear and screaming “TRAITORS” and other obscenities and the Dodgers because he’s still mad about their betrayal

Sam is laughing too hard to breathe and the news is having a field day

[howdoyousleep3]

https://www.tumblr.com/howdoyousleep3/768001639807434752/i-am-once-again-thinking-about-baby-buckys-fucked?source=share

what about drowsy, sleepy baby talk? like, daddy's such an animal he can't keep his paws to himself, waking bucky up too early in the morning to slide home into him, humping him, asking bucky all kinds of questions to get that sweet, especially mushy, needy, slurring baby talk that makes him feral 🥵😩

Oh lord 🥲 Sleepy baby talk? You're about to send me into an early grave. Firmly believe Daddy Steve is a morning sex kind of guy and firmly believe Baby Bucky's baby talk would be the poutiest and sweetest when Daddy wakes him up for sex.

I bet Steve finds it so hot their sex turns into a cockwarming session because if Steve even attempts to fuck Bucky when his mouth runs with baby talk nonsense, he'd come embarrassingly fast.

Ugh, the warmth of their bed, the darkness of their room, Bucky feeling safe enough to not worry about fully waking up for sex, safe enough to pout and giggle and let Steve have him and his baby talk.

Just bitty ngh ngh nghs and an exaggerated, "Daddy, you're too big," and a sleepy, "Is it good, Daddy? Does it feel good?"

Poor Daddy Steve lol 😮‍💨

[camaelias]

Sunny Winter Day

CHAPTER 1: The Man Across the Hall

CHAPTER 2 - The Winter Soldier

CHAPTER 3 - Whispers in the wall

CHAPTER 4 - Black Coffee and Cookie

Pairing : Grumpy Winter Soldier x Sunshine Reader

Tags : enemies to lovers, angst, slow burn

PLOT : you get really drunk and bucky really pissed

Author's note : okay this chapter is REALLY long but it was so fun to write! oh well, enjoy

CHAPTER 5 : Ambient Empathy

The party wasn’t your idea.

In fact, it sounded terrible when Natasha first brought it up over lunch: something about morale, birthdays, and how Tony had a new whiskey he needed everyone to taste immediately or he’d combust from lack of attention

“We haven’t had a proper hangout in weeks,” Nat had said, her fork twirling through a sad-looking salad “And I’m not talking about a ‘let’s all sit in a conference room and trauma-dump’ kind of bonding. Actual fun, dumb fun!”

You'd hummed in agreement, half-distracted by the folder in your lap, nodding at all the right moments “And,” she added, eyes narrowing, “you’re coming”

You blinked “I never said I wouldn’t”

“You didn’t say you would either” Her tone was calm, but knowing “No excuses, you’ll even wear something nice, I’ll make sure of it”

--

That night the Compound felt like something out of a memory you didn’t have: warm lights strung up across the ceiling, jazz weaving into synth-pop, tables pushed to the corners so there was space to laugh and spill drinks and maybe dance if anyone was brave enough. Someone lit candles in old mason jars... the whole thing looked like a Pinterest board accidentally exploded in a highly classified government facility.

You were wearing a dress : dark cherry red, simple, fitted through the ribs, soft on your skin, comfortable enough to move in. Natasha approved. Your hair was down and your hands only shimmered faintly gold at the tips when you first walked in, nervous energy sparking as you scanned the room.

He stood near the back, shoulder half-propped against a column, dark jacket over plain clothes. His sleeves were long, cuffed once. Gloved hands relaxed at his sides. He didn’t have a drink, just a careful kind of stillness to him, like someone watching a room for danger that wasn’t there. He saw you almost immediately, his eyes tracked you across the room like a reflex.

You didn’t look away this time, just smiled. He didn’t smile back, not exactly, but the corners of his eyes softened, and he dipped his head a fraction like yeah, I see you too.

Fifteen minutes in, you were already holding two drinks you didn’t ask for (Tony), in the middle of a story you didn’t fully remember starting (Clint), while Bruce quietly explained to someone how your aura trick worked-“She doesn’t read minds, she reads energy... It’s instinctual, not cognitive, like… ambient empathy”

You rolled your eyes and made a mental note to talk to him about the term ambient empathy later.

The party was in full swing now-Steve was losing a bet to Nat over some 90s pop trivia, Clint was trying to play beer pong off the edge of the balcony (“It’s a challenge round!”) and someone had already spiked the fruit punch. You were laughing, actually laughing, when James reappeared beside you. You hadn’t seen him approach but there he was, eyes on you, something different in his face. Curiosity. Focus. A small frown pulling at the corner of his mouth like he didn’t realise he was doing it

“You okay?” you asked, half-turning toward him

“You glow more when you’re happy,” he said, low voice

Your chocked on your drink “That’s not creepy at all”

His brow twitched, “Didn’t mean it like that”

You tilted your head, “How did you mean it, then?”

He looked at you like he was trying to understand, not just observe, then he chuckled half amused half exasperated as he shook his head

“You’re different when you’re like this,” he said eventually

“Like what?” he gave you a side look before answering

“Unarmed”

“I am always armed,” you said, wiggling your fingers so they sparked faintly gold “Just selectively threatening”

That made something flicker behind his eyes. He chuckled again.

“Besides,” you added, bumping your shoulder lightly into his, “you’re one to talk. You’ve been standing there like you’re guarding a vault”

“I am guarding a vault,” he said too quickly, then he nodded toward Tony across the room “That man had 8 drinks and no filter”

You snorted “Okay, fair, but you haven’t even had one, a drink I mean” He flashed you a small smile, his eyes locked in yours

"I was just waiting for the right company"

Before you could respond, Tony’s voice rang out across the room

“Is that Barnes socialising? Somebody mark the calendar. Take a picture. Frame it. Start a shrine”

You turned, hand instinctively grabbing James’ sleeve, like you could shield him from the attention

He didn’t flinch

Just leaned a little closer and muttered, “Tell me he’s not coming over here”

“He’s absolutely coming over here”

“Cool,” James muttered “Love that for me”

And then, yep. Tony Stark.

“Barnes,” he grinned “Looking downright festive; is that a brooding pose or do you need to be rebooted?”

You opened your mouth to intervene, but James cut in first : “Tony”

One word

Flat

It shut Stark up for a whole two seconds, then he turned to you

“So, what did Steve and I told you about boyfriends young lady? and you are distracting our very much needed head of security to make it worse?" he took a sip of his drinks and looked at you behind the dark lenses of the party sun glasses that were slipping lazily on the bridge of his nose "You are a bad influence Sunshine"

“I prefer glowing influence,” you said sweetly

“She’s like a heat lamp for emotionally stunted ex soldiers” Clint chimed in from somewhere behind the bar

“Thanks, Clint,” you called back “So nice when you contribute”

“I contribute truth,” he replied holding up his drink

Natasha passed behind you and leaned in just long enough to murmur, “You’re doing great, he hasn’t bolted once”

“Good sign,” you whispered back

You glanced at James -who still hadn’t moved- and decided to push your luck

“Do you dance?” you asked, looking up at him with mock innocence

He raised an eyebrow “No”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes”

“That sounded like a maybe”

“I was trained in knife work, not foxtrots”

You shrugged “That’s just stab-dancing”

He blinked

And then, finally -finally -he huffed a laugh. Just a small one, but it was real. You caught it like a firefly and stored it away for later

“I’m not dancing,” he said, but his voice had warmed at the edges

“Okay then, it's drink-pong duel time then, loser has to sing karaoke” Said Clint as he passed by you two

James looked at you as if he was asking for help

“Absolutely not”

Clint was already dragging a folding table into place

“Too late, Barnes, you’re in the ring now”

“I’m not singing”

“Then win,” you said, flashing him a grin. A beat passed.

Then James rolled his eyes “You’re insufferable”

“Yet you’re still standing here mr James Buchanan Barnes”

Another pause. His gaze flicked down to your hand - your fingers glowing faintly again, not from nerves this time, but from something else. A quiet kind of joy

“You can call me Bucky”

You blinked at him. Not shocked, just… surprised

“Yeah?” you smiled bright

He gave you a nod

“Well, alright then,” you said cracking a grin “Welcome to the losing team, Bucky”

His brows knit “We’re teammates?”

Clint, already halfway through setting up the table, raised a hand “Drafted. Sorry. I called dibs on Nat, you two are the leftovers”

Michael, the SHIELD agent that you usually spar with, handed you both red solo cups like it was a relay race “Rules are simple: two cups each, alternating throws. First team out sings karaoke. You miss a cup, you drink. You land a cup, they drink”

You looked at Bucky “You ready?”

He glanced down at the plastic cup in his hand like it had personally offended him “I’ve done worse missions”

“High praise,” you said, already grinning “Let’s smoke ‘em”.

You were up first. Your throw was decent : spiraled a little left, but landed. Clint groaned dramatically and took a swig from his cup

“Luck,” he muttered

“My aura guided it,” you shot back, tossing him a wink. Bucky didn’t smile, but his eyes crinkled slightly. He took his shot without comment. It arced just right, hit the rim, bounced once and dropped

Nat raised an eyebrow at him “Didn’t take you for a party game savant”

“Didn’t take you for a sore loser,” he said

You choked on your drink

“Damn, Barnes,” Tony said, eyebrows shooting up

Clint groaned again “Great. He’s funny now”

Your next shot missed wildly : bounced off the table entirely and smacked into the edge of the couch, you winced

“Ambient empathy, huh?” Bucky said, dry

“I’m distracted,” you replied

“By what?”

“By how serious you look playing a game involving plastic cups and peer pressure”

He raised an eyebrow “This is serious”

“You’re smiling”

“I’m not”

“You are”

“I’m scowling”

“That is not a scowl, Buckaroo”

He froze “Did you just-”

“Yup”

He turned slowly toward you, deadpan “We’re not there yet”

“Okay,” you said brightly, “noted. No Buckaroo”

You grinned over your drink. He shook his head like he regretted every life decision that led to this moment. But he was laughing. Quiet, almost under his breath, but it was there.

A few rounds later, you were tied - two cups each - and the tension was starting to mount. The rest of the team had gathered like an audience, cheering (heckling) from the couches

“Pressure’s on,” you murmured as Bucky lined up his next shot

“I don’t fold under pressure,” he said. He threw. It landed. Nat cursed under her breath.

You reached out and high-fived him without thinking, he actually met it, and it wasn't a limp high-five either but a real one. Solid. Confident.

“See?” you said, bumping your shoulder lightly into his again “Dream team”

He smirked- barely there, but real “It’s a high-stakes operation, I'm adapting”

“You’re adapting to me, Barnes"

Another look. A little longer this time

“Yeah,” he said, “I guess I am”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Clint’s voice cut in:

“Okay, flirting team, wrap it up, last round.”

Steve snorted

Final shot. You held your breath as Bucky leaned forward, lined it up, and missed by a hair. Clint whooped.

“You had one job,” you said, mock-scandalized

Bucky tilted his head at you “You missed three” he had an almost amused half smile. You sighed dramatically and downed the last of your drink “Fine. We’ll sing, but I pick the song”

He blinked “You’re actually doing it?”

“You’re not?”

He stared at you like you’d just suggested cartwheeling off the roof “I don’t sing”

You held out your hand “Time to adapt, Bucky”

He looked at your hand for a beat, and just before he took it Tony clapped his hands, the sound slicing clean through the post-game chatter

“Alright, alright, put the karaoke mic down, Barnes,” he said, pointing directly at you “We’ve got unfinished business. You lost. That means party trick” Tony grinned excited

You stopped in your tracks “Oh come on, Tony”

“Yes!” Natasha called from her throne of throw pillows on the couch

“Obligatory, mandatory,” Clint added, raising his glass “Don’t deny us Glowbug”

You shot Bucky a look “You see what I put up with?”

He shrugged, pretending to be neutral, but there was the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth

“C’mon young lady” Tony said, smug as ever “Light show, like right now”

“I’m not- ” you started

“It’s fine,” Bruce interjected gently, stepping in like the calming presence he always was “You’ve got control now, just keep it ambient”

You shot him a look. “We’ve talked about the phrase ‘keep it ambient’ I sound like a scented candle” You sighed dramatically “Fine. You people are relentless”

You took a breath. Just one, in and out, then you let it happen

From your fingertips, golden light began to rise : slow, soft, not blinding or loud. It shimmered like dusk on still water.

The gold shimmered outward in waves, it brushed against the people closest to you first. Clint blinked, then blinked again, murmuring something like whoa. Natasha’s mouth twitched faintly at the corner, and Steve, who’d been sitting stiffly in the corner for most of the night, visibly exhaled like a weight he hadn’t realized he was carrying had just slipped off his shoulders. And that’s when you felt it.

A pull

Something… giving, releasing, like your light had found a frequency beyond visibility. You didn’t know what it was doing exactly, only that the moment it passed through someone, something quiet inside them seemed to shift. A softening relief.

You turned slightly and saw Bucky. His eyes were closed, ot tight, not defensive, just… still

The glow hovered near him and, strangely, stayed

It didn’t bounce or ripple, it just lingered. Settled on his shoulders. You watched how the lines in his face had eased. His jaw, always tight, had unclenched, and his chest rose slow, deep, as though he’d been holding a breath since the moment he walked through the door. For a moment everything was quiet.

You blinked once, then again, hands still faintly aglow. The warmth had dimmed a little, but your fingertips still pulsed with that same golden shimmer.

You didn’t know what just happened, you’d never done that before

“Okay,” you said, voice trying very hard not to shake “That’s… new”

Bruce was in front of you before the last word even left your mouth, glasses already pulled from the inside pocket of his cardigan. His eyes were lit up, the way only a scientist's can be when the theory starts cracking open in real time.

He didn’t touch you, Bruce was too gentle for that, but his eyes flicked from your hands to your face and back again, like maybe the glow would spell something out for him if he just stared hard enough.

“Did you feel that?” he asked, “That was, wow, that was like... like an emotional transference field. You weren’t just projecting light, you were regulating...modulating energy at a neurochemical level”

Steve leaned in from behind him, his eyes going from him to you with a slight frown “Alright, dial it down... please translate”

Bruce waved a hand “She’s like… you know how sunlight helps regulate circadian rhythms and makes people feel better?”

Tony blinked “No”

“Vitamin D, mood stabilisation, overall emotional uplift,” Bruce clarified, gesturing vaguely toward you “She’s that. But, like… concentrated”

“So what I’m hearing is,” Tony said, pointing with his drink, “she’s the cure to seasonal depression in a dress, got it”

Clint snorted from the couch and made a joke you didn't hear, Steve was still standing just to the side, arms crossed loosely, and there was something soft behind his eyes. Almost proud, like watching a kid hit their first home run

“That was good,” he said simply “Whatever that was, you gave people something”

You tried to smile at him. You really, really did

But your chest—

God

Your chest was on fire

You could feel it beneath your ribs, blooming slow and deep like molten glass. It didn’t pulse, it throbbed and radiated. Not a sharp pain but a consuming one. You wrapped your arms around yourself without realising it, the gesture small, instinctive, a poor shield for something that felt like you chewed broken glass

A candle loses nothing by lighting another candle. Except sometimes it does. Sometimes it burns all the way down to do it.

They didn’t notice

Natasha had turned back to Steve, muttering something about new training routines, Bruce was practically vibrating with hypotheses, Tony had returned to his corner of the party already trying to figure out how to harness your powers for sustainable nightlife energy. Laughter was returning, the moment was fading. Except for one pair of eyes. He was still watching.

Bucky.

You looked away quickly. Too fast. Which of course made it worse.

He started walking toward you

“I need a drink,” you said to no one in particular, already turning “Like, now”

No one argued, no one followed except-

“Hey,” came a voice low behind you as you reached the makeshift bar, already fumbling with one of the vodka bottles, hands shaking just enough to spill a few drops “You alright?”

You didn’t turn around. Just popped the cap, took a long sip

“Peachy,” you said

A beat

Then another

Then, gently, “Don’t lie”

You swallowed hard, and when you finally turned your head he was right there. Not hovering, just there, steady as ever. His brows were drawn, mouth flat. One gloved hand flexed at his side like he wanted to reach out and didn’t know if he was allowed to. You didn’t mean to say it out loud but it slipped

“It hurts”

There. Soft. Barely audible.

But he heard you, you knew he did. His jaw tightened.

You waited for the lecture : the suggestion to sit down, to tell Bruce, to get medical, to stop using your powers so recklessly, but it didn’t come.

He just stood there, watching you, and said

“You don’t have to prove anything tonight”

That’s what undid you. You blinked fast, shook your head, smiled like it didn’t mean anything. Then tipped your vodka bottle toward him

“Let me have tonight,” you said “Just this, let me be fine”

He didn’t answer, not out loud, but his eyes—those goddamn eyes—they said he knew you were lying. And they said he’d let you do it anyway just this once. So you threw back the rest of your drink and let yourself spin back into the noise and the light and the mess of bodies and laughter, trying to forget the way your ribs still burned and the fact that you’d just become something new.

--

The second drink went down too easy.

You weren’t a lightweight, exactly, but pain made the edges of everything sharper, and liquor dulled just enough of it to make the buzz feel like a mercy. You could still feel the burn behind your ribs, soft and searing like a glowing coal, but it was background now. Manageable and far away.

So you drank again

And then, well, you came alive.

It started with the shoes

You’d kicked them off somewhere near the armchair Bruce had claimed and now padded barefoot across the compound’s sleek floors like it was your own personal runway. Your hair was loose, your eyes shimmered, every movement sparked a little glow that you couldn’t quite contain, but for once, you didn’t try. You dance without freely, giggling and laughing every time you would lose your balance a bit

“God, she’s drunk,” said Tony, delighted

“I’m festive,” you corrected, now spinning on your heel

Tony leaned in toward Steve “That’s your cue Cap. She’s gonna fall over and take out the new speakers”

But Steve just sipped his cider, amused “She’s alright”

“Oh, I’m amazing,” you announced, arms raised dramatically as you swayed toward the makeshift dance floor “I’m the emotional support rave this party never knew it needed”

Bucky watched all of this happen like a man trapped in a hostage situation no one else could see. He stood stiff near the bar, arms crossed over his chest, jaw tight, like he was ready to lunge at the first sign of disaster. And given the way your barefoot self just tripped over a beanbag chair trying to curtsy to Pepper, he was seeing disaster where everyone else saw charm. Steve stepped beside him

“She’s got energy tonight” Bucky didn’t respond

“Different than the last few weeks,” Steve tried again, nodding toward you as you laughed so hard at something Natasha said you nearly spilled your drink “It’s good to see her smile”

“She’s drunk,” Bucky muttered

Steve raised a brow “So?”

“So she’s gonna fall, or light something on fire, or both”

Steve gave him a long, assessing look

Then, lightly “You know you can just say you’re worried about her”

“I’m not”

“Sure”

“She is my mission” a muscle of his jawline jumped as he almost gave himself away "you all are, I'm the head of security and she is not being careful"

“Okay”

Steve smiled silently as he sipped his cider again, searched for Tony's eyes through the crowd and gave the tiniest nod towards Bucky when he found them. Bucky's eyes on the other hand flicked toward you every time you were more than 5 meters away. When you leaned a little too far back laughing, he straightened. When you stumbled near the balcony, he took a single step forward before catching himself and clenching his fists.

He didn’t know when he started watching out for you.

He just did.

It was muscle memory now, like breathing

Tony noticed

“Barnes,” he said, slinging an arm around Bucky’s tense shoulders, “you are vibrating at a very specific frequency and I think I know what it is”

Bucky gave him a slow, unimpressed stare “Don’t”

“Protective. Irritable. You keep tracking her like a sniper scope in a soap opera. Don’t worry,” Tony said breezily, “we’ve all had a thing for her at some point. It’s the light. Very biblical.”

“Do you want to be punched?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time, but I get it-”

Bucky didn’t hear the rest, because you were laughing again and this time it was a full-body laugh: head thrown back, eyes crinkled, hand over your chest like you couldn’t contain it. Natasha was pretending to be offended, Clint was gasping for breath. Whatever you’d said, it had landed. Hard.

And you were glowing again

Not just your hands this time, your whole damn body. It was subtle, like the light had seeped under your skin and decided to stay, like it belonged there, and that, that was the part that pissed him off

Not the danger, not the recklessness, it was the joy

You were joy in a bottle someone shook too hard and left uncorked, and even in pain, you gave it freely, carelessly

And he hated it

He caught you by the elbow when you nearly slipped on a puddle of spilled cider, steadied you, and said gruffly, “You’re gonna fall”

You looked up at him, eyes glazed and bright, lips pink with drink and laughter

“Oh hey, soldier,” you said, beaming “You came to dance?”

“I came to make sure you don’t break your neck”

“You’re no fun”

“And you’re drunk”

“And you’re hot when you’re worried,” you said without thinking. His brow furrowed, his mouth twitched. You turned- well, spun, really-and promptly lost your balance. It would’ve been a disaster if it weren’t for the gloved hand that caught you by the waist, firm and immediate

“You’re done”

You blinked up at him, grinning “I’m not done. I’m just pre-pausing”

“You’re drunk,” he said flatly, one arm still around you

“I’m hydrated,” you argued, jabbing a finger into his chest “I had punch. Lots of fruit in it. Very responsible”

“That punch was 90% vodka”

“Tony said it was organic”

He stared at you for a moment, unblinking. His hand was still on your waist. You hadn’t noticed until right then how warm he was

“You’re going to bed,” he said

“Oh, how romantic”

He didn’t rise to the bait “I’m head of security”

“And I’m a delight”

“C’mon doll” His voice softened, just a little. He exhaled like he was weighing the pros and cons of sedating you and hauling you over his shoulder

“You’re impossible,” he muttered, you grinned like a child in response

“C’mon, ” he said, tugging you gently toward the hallway “Let’s go sunshine”

You stumbled a little but he adjusted without thinking, steadying you with both hands now, one at your elbow, the other on your lower back. Every point of contact buzzed, something that made your breath hitch

He noticed

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice low

“Totally,” you said, smiling “I just… got a lot of sparkle in my system”

“Sparkle,” he repeated

“Mmhmm” You leaned into his side as you walked “You ever feel like… like you’re too full of light? Like you’re gonna burst out of your own skin? No? Just me? Cool”

He didn’t answer

But his hand didn’t move from your back

The compound hallways were quiet now. Warm lamplight buzzed overhead, and your footsteps echoed just a little on the tile. You were still half-laughing at your own joke when you tripped over absolutely nothing and stumbled hard into his side

This time, he caught you completely

One hand on your hip, one hand curled around your wrist. You were pressed against him now, your chest to his ribs, your face tilted up because he was so goddamn tall and everything felt loud and hot and close.

“You shouldn’t push yourself like that”

“I know”

“You don’t”

You shrugged “I like making people feel good”

“You can’t do that if you’re dead”

You blinked

Something flickered in his expression then- guilt, fear, something-but it vanished before you could name it

His eyes flicked down to your mouth, once

Back up

His breathing changed

“Bucky,” you whispered, and you didn’t even realise you’d said it until the sound of it made his fingers twitch against your skin

He was drowning, you could see it. In the way his throat worked as he swallowed, in the way his grip didn’t loosen, didn’t retreat. His lips parted for just a fraction, and just for a second, just a flicker—he looked like he wanted to say more. Like there was a dam behind his teeth and if he opened his mouth again it would all come out

But he couldn’t.

Because somewhere in the back of his mind, the wrong voice whispered: She’s not yours. She’s the mission.

And he couldn’t remember why that was supposed to help anymore.

CHAPTER 6 - Do you want to stay?