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bcksbarnes · 2 months ago

Text

flowers in hand

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: unfortunately for bucky barnes, he is head over heels in love with you, and when you want something, it doesn't take much convincing.

word count: 3.6K cw: 🔞 some suggestive content (mdni)

a/n: based off of this request! lots and lots of fluff.

Bucky Barnes was an ex-brain washed assassin who had been broken down and beaten time and time again. He had seen horrors that would leave most people catatonic, he had done things that most people wouldn’t even dream of. This was not a man that wore his heart on his sleeve.

Stoic. Brooding. An absolute brute, to put it mildly.

But there was something that Bucky never wanted anyone to know. A secret he’d take to his grave and would deny if ever asked about it.

What was this secret? Simple.

Bucky was head over heels in love with you.

He knew it the second the two of you met. When you stretched out your hand and told him your name, he felt his knees buckle. When you asked him for his? A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face. He was nervous . A reaction Bucky had never had before.

It sent him into a spiral for several days after the two of you met. Weeks, actually, if he was being honest.

Everything after that had fallen into place pretty quickly. You had liked Bucky as soon as you met him and before you knew it months had passed, the two of you quickly found yourself in a budding romance that needed nothing but water and sunlight to grow.

The hardest part of learning to fall in love again was that he was so taken aback by how his body and brain responded to you, it was a bit jarring. It was like his entire brain had awoken a part of himself that had been dormant for years. One yearning for love.

It showed in the way you would get home from work and your favorite flowers would be waiting on the kitchen table, powder blue hydrangeas, with a handwritten note alongside it. Bucky’s handwriting was a little scratchy and hard to make out, but you didn’t need to read it to know what it said:

Thinking of you always. - BB

Or when he took you on a joy ride on the back of his motorcycle, never wearing a helmet himself but making sure the straps were just right when he helped you get yours on. His hands would carefully click the buckle together, biting down on his bottom lip in concentration as he made sure it fit you perfectly.

He didn’t want you getting hurt, not on his watch.

That was it - his big secret. You had him wrapped around your finger. Something so mundane and, frankly, obvious.

Though you never went out of your way to use this knowledge to your advantage. Bucky always came running at the sound of your voice.

“Buck?” you called out one afternoon.

The sun was high in the sky, it was a beautiful day - maybe a little warmer than you liked, but the cool breeze offered some relief.

You were sitting on the balcony reading a book in your favorite spot, overlooking the city that Bucky had loved so much, and that you’ve learned to love with him. It was different from the one he lived in all those decades ago, the apartment he had lived in as a child was small, cramped - to look out the window was to face a family he never knew, living their own lives.

Now, in this decade, the apartment was spacious, overwhelming, the view encompassing the bridge and the East River separating the two boroughs.

A different life, a different time.

“Yeah?” he called back, the door to the balcony slightly ajar so you could both hear each other.

“Can you bring me my sunglasses?”

Bucky chuckled to himself at such a simple request. He was working on fixing some issues in the kitchen, a leaky faucet to be exact - the one that kept dripping. Bucky had a hard time falling asleep as it was, hearing the pitter patter in the middle of the night made him feel like he was going insane.

“Hold on, honey.”

He was currently laying on his back under the sink, his shirt was discarded somewhere next to him and his black mesh shorts rode a bit lower on his hips than he had purposely intended.

It only took him a few turns of his wrench to tighten the compression ring around the pipe in hopes that it would stop the leaking.

“That should be it.”

A few moments passed as he placed the wrench down next to him. He held his breath, but Bucky, unfortunately, a second later felt another water droplet land on his forehead: unsuccessful.

“Shit,” he mumbles to himself before gripping the side of the counter and pulling himself out from under the cabinet.

Bucky hated that this wasn’t working - honestly, he wanted to run to the store and grab some new PVC pipes and just fix the entire thing from scratch. But, your request ran through his head and he quickly pivoted his priorities as he stood up, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“Where’d you put them?” he calls, trying to look in the usual spots before finally stumbling on them. “Nevermind.”

You hear the door swing open, his footsteps alerting his presence but your attention stayed on the book in your lap, wanting to finish the page you were on.

“I couldn’t find them,” he says.

When you finally finished the passage, you placed the bookmark in the between the pages, saving it for another time.

Your head turned to look up at Bucky, his metal arm glistening in the sun and your sunglasses sitting right on his face - that goofy smile of his plastered on his features as he waits for you to notice.

A loud chuckle passes your lips as you reach your hand out for them, shaking your head as he slides them off the bridge of his nose and into the palm of your hands. Once you grab them from him, you put the glasses on, the world dimming a bit, but Bucky still shines bright in front of you.

“Thank you,” you say softly, tilting your head back to admire his half dressed physique. You whistle lowly, causing Bucky to roll his eyes at you. “Were you working on the sink? Sorry, I didn’t even realize.”

“Yeah,” he responds, taking a step closer.

Bucky gestures for you to move over and make room for him, groaning as he finally sits down. His arm rests on the back of the sectional while his fingers run through the hair on the back of your neck.

“I thought I’d be able to fix it by tightening it, but I think the pipe itself has a crack somewhere,” he huffs out, shaking his head. “I’ll have to go to the store later.”

You watch him carefully, your hand holding the book on your lap moving to rest on his thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You could see the concentration in his face, the way his brows furrowed until there was a crease between them. He hated unfinished projects.

“You’re not going to rest until it’s fixed, are you?” you ask, though it’s a question you already know the answer to.

“Absolutely not,” he shakes his head. “Why? Have something in mind for us today?”

“I thought maybe we could go to the park later” you hummed, your fingers tracing shapes into his skin. You tilt your head back to look at him, both of your eyes meeting. “They’re doing a movie night. Raiders of the Lost Ark, if I remember correctly.”

Bucky’s other leg bounced anxiously at the thought, it’s not that he didn’t want to go with you - it’s that he really wanted to fix this stupid sink.

He peaked over at his watch, it was nearly 5:30pm. The store would be closing soon, he’d have to find the right parts then fix the sink, and shower at some point before he’d be ready to go. He didn’t know if he had time to do both the movie and finish this project.

His eyes trail back over towards you and he was greeted with the most beautiful pair he’d ever seen. Were you batting your eyelashes too?

“You play dirty,” Bucky mumbles.

He brings his metal hand up to your face, squeezing your cheeks softly as he leans in to press a few soft, chaste kisses to your lips. He mumbles something about how unfair it is, but you’re so wrapped up in the feeling of his lips you don’t even care what he says.

Bucky begins to stand from his seat, though he doesn’t remove himself from your lips, hunched over to make sure he stays closely connected to you. Your hands now resting on his abdomen as if to keep him in place.

“I have to shower,” he hums against your lips. “And if the movie sucks I’m coming home and ripping the sink apart.”

“You did not just say that Raiders of the Lost Ark is going to suck.”

Bucky chuckles as he trails his lips down your jaw to your neck, giving it a few kisses and a quick bite before he pulls back completely, that same love stricken look on his face.

“I did. I mean it too,” he teases, backing up until he gets to the door of the balcony.

“You’re going to be very upset when you’re wrong, Barnes,” you call out after him.

He gives you a quick wink before dipping back inside the apartment.

You take one last look over the balcony, the cars that were passing over the bridge and the people walking on the streets below. All of them had their own little story. It makes you smile to yourself, thinking of this little life you had built with Bucky.

It kept you both going.

Finally standing, you stretched your arms over your head and grabbed your book before heading back inside the apartment. The cover made a soft thud as you set it down on the coffee table on your way over to the kitchen.

The sound of the shower trickling had your thoughts distracted, even as you began packing the tote bag. You tried to keep your focus on all the goods you wanted to bring and not your very naked boyfriend some 50 feet away from you behind one, probably not locked, door.

How easy it would be to slip in.

You shake your head and focus on the task at hand, packing the bag with: a blanket to sit on, two lime sparkling waters that Bucky had picked up a few days ago, and a mix of snacks to enjoy. The perfect picnic.

Right as you finished, you hear the door open and Bucky step out of the bathroom, the warm steam filling your apartment almost immediately. He looks striking with the towel draped around his hips, his almost freshly cut short hair now wet and combed back.

“You didn’t join me,” he teases, making his way past you and into the bedroom.

“I want to make the movie,” you say back, a smirk on your features. You knew well enough that if you took a step in that shower, Bucky would never let you leave.

The sound of shuffling comes from the other room as you can hear him looking through drawers and the closet for his clothes. Your feet walk you into the bedroom right as he slips his boxers on, a smile on his features as he catches your gaze.

He didn’t want to go out to the park and watch a movie. He didn’t even care about that stupid leak under the sink that he could still hear and was driving him up a wall.

No, he wanted to stay here with you and show you all the ways he loved and adored you. He wanted to worship you with everything he’s got.

His hand reaches out for you and he intertwines your fingers together before he pulls you towards him. You happily oblige.

“You’re still thinking about that damn leak aren’t you?” you whisper, your voice filled with jest.

“Every fucking second.”

The smile on his face is wide as he brings his hands up to your face and kisses your cheeks once, twice, three times, causing a soft laugh to leave your lips. In one fluid motion his hands are under your thighs and lifts you up, placing you on the dresser behind you.

He slots himself between your legs and watches you closely, your hands moving to grip his wrists.

“Let’s stay here,” Bucky pleads softly. “Let’s never leave this apartment ever again.”

“I’d love to never have to do that, but you know that’s impossible.”

“Hmm,” he hums. “Not with that attitude, sweetheart.”

He manages to get his hands free from your wrists, sliding them down to your hips and pulling you forward until your legs wrap around his waist, your heels resting on the back of his thighs.

“Bucky,” you groan.

Your head falls back softly against the wall, in the same motion Bucky rests his head on your shoulder.

“Wishful thinking, huh?” he asks, a sigh leaving his lips afterwards.

It’s not that he hated the power that you had over him, it was that he didn’t know how you managed to affect him so much. You didn’t even put up a fight with him and he folded, all because you said his name.

He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before he untangled himself from you and moved to get dressed - a pair of black jeans, a t-shirt that was a little too tight around his muscles and a sweatshirt he knows you’re going to steal at some point.

Finally ready to go.

It only took a few minutes to get to the park. You’re greeted by a sea of people, most of whom have already laid out their lounge chairs or blankets. The sun hadn’t set yet, casting a warm glow as you two found a spot a little bit away from the rest of the crowd. More secluded, but you two would still be able to see and hear the movie just fine.

Bucky helped set up the blanket, a long red gingham pattern one that he may have muttered a sarcastic comment about how cliche it was. You may have, lovingly, given him the finger in response.

The movie started only a few minutes after you and Bucky set up the snacks and drinks. Both of you were laying on your sides, elbows planted on the blanket while hands kept your head off the ground.

Bucky was very into the movie, barely sneaking glances over at you like he normally did whenever. It captured his attention almost immediately. You watched as he popped a grape into his mouth, his tired eyes trained on the screen in front of him as he absentmindedly chewed.

It was calming to see him in this environment. You knew that deep down he would never 100% be present, that he always kept one part of his brain active to scan for any potential threats. But seeing Bucky in a state of, mostly, ease felt like finding a diamond in the rough. Rare, but valuable.

Halfway through the movie Bucky moves to sit up, stretching his arms over his head before holding his hand out to you. He always seemed to be reaching for you. Once your hand is in his, one swift motion is all it takes for him to pull you into his lap, nestling you between his legs, your back now resting against his chest.

His hands move to run down your arm and he can feel the goosebumps rising against your skin.

“You’re cold,” he mumbles in your ear.

You want to protest that it’s just from his touch, but the words die in the back of your throat as soon as you feel him sit back from you. He pulls off his sweatshirt and hands it over, watching as you carefully slip on the oversized material. Bucky wraps his arms around your torso once you’re settled, pulling you back as close as he can before resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Much better.”

Your heart flutters, as it seems it always does when he acts this way.

Cuddly. Soft. In love.

Bucky feels like his heart is bleeding out right through his shirt at this moment, you could tell him to do anything in front of this crowd of people and he would comply without hesitation. He didn’t even care.

Maybe that was the thing that kept him going in this life. The little pieces of calm he can get when you are around. When the tides don’t feel as strong.

He didn’t want to think about it, he wanted to enjoy himself: your presence, and the movie.

It’s a little while later when the movie finally finished, you craned your head back to look up at him, a smirk on your lips. He was staring ahead at the now blank screen, jaw slightly dropped.

“I thought you said the movie was going to suck,” you teased.”

“I didn’t know I was coming to see a cinematic masterpiece.”

You let out a laugh, and then another one as Bucky squeezes your sides as his response, falling back over his thigh as you wriggle to try and get away from his wandering, playful hans.

God, he wished you weren’t in public right now.

“And here you wanted to stay at home to fix that stupid sink.”

“No, I wanted to stay home so I could –”

“ Bucky ,” you cut him off before he can finish that thought, watching as a family walks past.

He lets out a scoff that sounds more like a laugh and pinches your side again as you start to stand up from his lap. Bucky admires you from this angle, the way that you towered over him was so jarring compared to how small you normally were when he stood next to you.

“I was going to say so I could take care of you , but if you were worried I was going to say something more vulgar than you need to get your mind out of the gutter, sweetheart.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

Bucky’s smile reaches his eyes this time as he throws his head back and lets out a laugh. You were so right and he loved being called out on it, because he loved how well you knew him.

He stands to help you pack the tote bag again, throwing it over his shoulder when it’s done. You grab his metal hand and intertwine your fingers together as you make your way back to the apartment.

The city was dark now, only illuminated by street lamps and a few fluorescent signs. Surprisingly the neighborhood was mostly empty, you and Bucky seeming to take up most of the sidewalk and filling the silence with your chit chat about the movie.

Bucky was blown away by the story, the action … well the whole thing.

You were biting back your tongue to not say I told you so .

“You always get your way, you know that?” he says once you're in the lobby waiting for the elevator. “I don’t think I’m capable of saying no to you if I really tried.”

“That’s not true,” you respond.

Though if you take a second to think about it, he’s probably right.

The elevator dings its arrival and dips slightly from the weight of the two of you as you step on. You press the button for your floor a few times before turning your attention back to Bucky. He’s standing right next to you, his hand slipping out of yours to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you against his side. Your head leans to rest against him, it always fits perfectly.

“It’s a little true,” he says with a shrug. “I’m not complaining.”

There’s a beat of silence before he speaks again.

“I’ve never had anyone to care about. Not in this way at least.”

“You cared about Steve.”

“That’s different,” he sighs. “I made sure Steve stayed alive. I didn’t dote over him. I look at you and I’d drop everything just to see that damn smile on your face.”

The blush developed on your cheeks at record speed, a smile accompanying it that was hard to hold back. Sometimes Bucky had a way with words that took your breath away. He could be deeply poetic. It made you wonder what he thought of in that brain of his.

“There it is,” he whispers, his gaze flickering down to your lips.

The ding of the elevator snaps the moment back into reality, but that doesn’t deter Bucky in the slightest.

No, instead he follows you down the hall and into the apartment, waiting for the door to shut before he picks you up from behind and walks you to the bedroom to toss you on the bed - the sound of your giggles filling the air.

The second you hit the mattress, and he crawls on top of you, your hands grab his face bringing him down to kiss him feverishly. It’s rushed and messy, tongues sweeping across lips, teeth biting and pulling.

You don’t need to tell him you need him for Bucky to know it, he can read you like an open book.

As he kisses down your jaw – his stubble scratching your soft skin, hands moving to slide your shirt up, ready to spend the night devouring you – all he can think about is how his love for you is the worst kept secret in the world. And not about the stupid leaky faucet.

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