Tumgik
#bucky barnes college au
lovelybarnes · 1 year
Text
Flirting and Football- B. Barnes
Pairings: bucky barnes x reader Warnings: past assault of reader, as slow burn as i can, au so bucky is different although i tried to not make him so ooc, sort of enemies to lovers?, genuinely can’t remember anymore, crappy writing in the beginning because i started writing this a year ago but i swear it gets better i promise About: request!! Bucky barnes and a college au where reader is the only one who isn’t interested in him basically
The end of your pen rests between your lips, unused as you scan the textbook page in front of you, your eyes thinning occasionally as you read. Your study partner’s book lays open in front of her, ten pages behind, and notebook adorned with two sole words.
She’s reciting the events of a date she went on yesterday or the day before, although admittedly, you’d only caught detached words for the past double-digit minutes. Your careful attention had dwindled down to nods as you subtly tapped at your notebook, then not-so-subtly and finally disappeared altogether as you made miscellaneous noises. 
You hum along now, eyes flickering from your notes to the material as you annotate pages with bright sticky notes.
She doesn’t seem to notice your disinterest, gushing about arms and hair, and the kiss that changed her life. The words don’t last too long in your mind, too cluttered with equations and vocabulary to make space for them.
“The girls told me he goes on a lot of dates but I can just tell I’m the one.”
You glance at your open computer, frowning at the slimming battery life, and purse your lips at the time. Sighing softly, you meet Quinn’s glazed eyes, offering her a tight smile you hope is somewhat believable.
“Is he in psychology too?” you ask, tapping on the notes the both of you were supposed to start when she began talking.
“Bucky? Oh no,” she laughs, the finger twirling her red hair pulling away to wave her hand dismissively. “He’s in sports or something. He's on the soccer team, you know.”
You nod. “Wow.”
“I know, oh my god.” She fans herself. “Did I tell you he basically won the last game?”
Probably. You duck your chin, highlighting a sentence. “Isn’t it a group effort?”
Quinn rolls her eyes. “Well, yeah, but he scored the winning goal.”
“Okay then,” you agree, deciding that you can finish your notes at your dorm. “I didn’t go to the last game, so what do I know?”
Quinn’s eyes go wide. “You didn’t go?” she exclaims, and you shush her, confirming. “Why?”
You shrug. “I had to do something.”
“You have to go to the next one tomorrow and see him in action. But don’t fall in love,” she warns with a giggle. “He’s mine.”
“Promise,” you reply hollowly, shutting your laptop. “Well, I have to go. This was helpful, though,” you lie.
“Oh, yeah, totally. I have to go too, rest up for the big game tomorrow. Gotta be there early to support Bucky,” Quinn informs. You stack your books to carry them back to your dorm.
“Right,” you respond, standing. “I hope everything goes well with him,” you say as you walk out.
She shoots you a big grin and a nod, her face bright as she agrees.
It’s cold when you step through the doors, bouncing on your feet and hugging your things closer to your chest as you begin to walk toward your dorm. You move to pull out your phone from your back pocket, quickly unlocking it to get to your contacts list. You press on Bruce’s contact and listen to the two beeps until he picks up.
“I hate you so much right now,” you greet, cutting his cheery hello off.
“What? What did I do?”
“‘I’ll be there!’ ‘How could I miss studying physics?’” you mock, imitating his voice. “You left me there, and I was stuck listening to Quinn's monologue about how the quarterback or whatever is the love of her life!”
“What quarterback?” Bruce asks.
“Does it matter? Honestly?” you rebut, taking care to watch your surroundings as you bully your friend. “Your quarterback wouldn’t cheat on you so I’m assuming it’s one that’s not Thor.”
“Okay, okay, I know. I’m sorry about ditching you. Thor and I just finished, we can come by and pick you up at the library. And Thor is a defender. Different sport entirely.”
“Whatever and ew,” you complain. “And I’m already on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“What? I told you to not walk home alone. Just wait for me.”
“Don’t worry. The dorm isn’t that far and you’re not exactly the most threatening anyway,” you remind. “I’ll be fine. ”
“Fine. Keep me on the line and be careful,” Bruce tells you.
“Of course,” you quip. A pause drapes over the two of you, the silence only interrupted by the steady sound of your footsteps on the concrete. You turn, leaves crunching underneath your shoes and you can practically hear Bruce relax somewhat, knowing that you’re nearby. You put him on speaker to hear better. “How’d it go with Thor today?”
“Really good.” The golden thread of happiness threaded through Bruce’s words comes through clear and clean. You can imagine him as he talks into the phone, glancing at Thor to make sure he can’t hear as he plays with his fingers. “I’m really sorry for leaving you there.”
“You’re not,” you amend. “But it’s fine. I’m glad you’re happy.”
“I am,” Bruce confirms.
“I don’t know how you find the time to juggle everything. It’s kind of terrifying,” you laugh, expecting him to tease you back, but his answer comes back honest.
“I know you think of boyfriends and whatever as distractions, but it’s the opposite. It’s not juggling if I have help carrying everything.”
You push your tongue against your cheek, listening to the rustling of the trees. You grab your keys as you arrive at your dorm door. “I’m here.”
“Finally.” You roll your eyes, opening the door to see your roommate and her brother inside.
“Hey Wanda, Piet.”
Wanda smiles at you and Pietro winks before greeting Bruce through your phone.
“Okay, Bruce, are we studying tomorrow?” you ask him, balancing your things in your arms. When Pietro notices, he stands, taking your books from you and setting them down on your table. You thank him and pat his arm.
“Before the game? Sure,” he replies. You take him off speaker, pulling your phone to your ear, not noticing that the mention of the game has caught Pietro and Wanda's attention.
“You’re going?” you question. “I thought Thor was benched.”
“He’s off!” There’s a whoop you recognize as Thor’s that makes you smile. “Which is why it’s an important game we need to go to.”
“We?” you echo.
“We as in you and I,” Bruce verifies.
“Wait, I have to go too? Why?” you whine.
Pietro cuts in, “You have to go! How will we win without our lucky charm?”
You purse your lips and squint at him. “Didn’t you guys win last game?”
“Still! Come on, please,” he insists. Wanda joins in, offering to bake you cookies.
You search your brain for excuses. “I have things to do.”
“If it’s not ‘stay home and binge a series,’ I'll let you skip,” Bruce chimes.
You frown as the siblings grin.
“Yeah, you’re going,” Bruce declares. “They’re not that bad and you know it. Besides, Thor wants you to braid his hair. You know my fingers always get tangled.”
“Fine,” you sigh dramatically. “But I want it noted that it’s only because I really like cookies.” You focus on Wanda, who nods enthusiastically. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Bruce repeats your words before you hang up, and at the click, you let yourself fall on your couch.
Wanda kisses your head and pats your shoulder comfortingly. “It’s going to be fun.”
“Standing in the middle of students I don’t know as they yell at a ball does not sound fun to me,” you disagree, but she ignores you.
“Even Vis is going,” she argues. “And you know how excited Thor gets when you braid his hair.”
You mutter incoherently.
“We’ll leave at three,” she instructs with a smile.
-
“I could be doing so many useful things right now,” you hiss at Bruce, remembering the half-written essay you have saved on your laptop, a string of frustratedly typed letters highlighted and waiting to be replaced with something coherent typed just beneath it.
Bruce had made you leave just as you began to taste the word you were looking for, assuring you that going out to see a game would somehow give your fried mind the jolt it needed. With little argument and the promise you’d committed to with a hook of your pinkie, you’d sighed and shut your laptop, leaving your apartment early to see the team before the game.
You could recognize some faces thanks to Pietro forcing you out to a few team celebrations and the occasional game you never paid much attention to. Although he’d laid off a while ago when Bruce and Thor started dating, your best friend had dragged you to every soccer-related event he didn’t want to go to alone. Pietro never minded your absence as much as Bruce did, always satisfied as long as you celebrated or consoled him afterward.
The word you’d been wracking your brain for suddenly comes to mind when you sit next to Bruce on a bench, pulling your phone out of your pocket to note it down, not noticing when the entire soccer team begins to leave the locker room, spilling into the hall where you’re slumped with your best friend.
Thor bellows your name excitedly when he spots you both, heading over. You glance up to give him a smile, quickly continuing to type the stray thoughts you’d been trying to catch when he turns, an extravagant arm extending as if to present you to the few guys with him. “This is the lovely lady I told you all about. She is very smart.”
You laugh at his introduction, tucking your phone back into your pocket. “Thank you, Thor.”
“Of course! And you all know Bruce, of course.”
There are chimes of agreement and greetings for your friend, a few of the players coming up to you. Pietro arrives first, as always, and pecks your forehead. “I, for one, am very glad you came to cheer us on.”
“We’ve heard a lot about you,” another says, huge and blonde, but his features are softened by an open grin. “I’m Steve.” He juts a finger at the brunet next to him, his hair tied up into a neat little bun at the nape of his neck, blue eyes shining as they observe you. “That’s Bucky.”
You smile at them, nodding. “Nice to meet you. I’ve actually heard a lot.”
Bucky raises an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised. “Really?”
You stare at him blankly, opening and closing your mouth like a fish. “I meant Steve.” Steve looks startled. “I saw his work when I was volunteering at the art show last month. It was great, I actually bought the piece with the lilies!”
“Oh.” Bucky blinks blankly, tongue poking into his cheek before he clears his throat and manages a lift of the left edge of his lips. “‘Makes sense someone so pretty would have good taste.”
You stare silently at him for a second, relieved when Steve’s surprise takes a second to process.
“Wait, me?” Steve points stupidly at himself. “My art?”
“It was amazing, I couldn’t let it slip by!”
“I told you,” Bucky tells him, elbowing his arm. He, unlike the other players, wears a dark sleeve over the entirety of his left arm, all the way up to his fingers. His fingertips, jagged pink, peek out. “I wish you woulda let me go. I could’ve seen the art and met her sooner.”
His friend sends him a furtive glance. “Is this your first time coming to a game?” Steve wonders as he turns back to you. 
You shake your head. “Pietro is my roommate’s brother and Thor’s my best friend’s boyfriend. They drag me here when they feel like it, but it’s my first time being back here.” You gesture to the hall. “I’m usually a little late because Bruce drives like a grandmother.”
Bruce sighs, sending you a short glance that you respond to with a gentle nudge of his shoulder.
Blue eyes nods, careful to give you his full attention. “Well, I think you should come around more often.”
You scan him for a second. “Why?” you ask genuinely.
He pauses as he begins to explain, eyes pinched in confusion before Thor’s booming voice cuts him off, reminding you that you need to braid his hair. You give them a final smile before standing. “Duty calls, I guess.”
“So you’ll come around?” He calls after you, frowning when you respond with a transparent smile and ingenuine thumbs up. “Huh,” he says.
“What?” Steve responds, a little slowly, knowingly. He knows well what is making Bucky’s features crease in that way, but he’d prefer hearing it from his friend’s mouth.
“Just… wondering why I’d never seen her before. Pretty.”
“Uh huh.” Steve nods disbelievingly. Knowing he isn’t going to be able to push it out of his friend, he begins to walk toward the field, not waiting up for Bucky, the man caught up in his thoughts. “‘Thought it was because the line didn’t work,” he finally tells him, catching Bucky’s attention.
“What’re you talkin’ about, punk? What line?”
Steve snickers. “Any of ‘em.”
-
The next time Bucky sees you is across the courtyard, arms wrapped around books, your fingers curved protectively around the edges of your laptop. You struggle as you talk to someone he recognizes, bouncing lightly on the balls of your feet as you reach to brush strands of hair away from your eyes.
Why you don’t have a backpack like every other person is beyond him, but it’s the last thing on his mind when your eyes meet his and you smile and wave. Yeah, he knows how to handle this—the attention, the blushing, the flattery.
The hand he raises to wave back freezes awkwardly when he realizes your attention isn’t on him, but rather following something behind his shoulder. His hand lowers as he feels Pietro brush past him and over to you, Wanda following close by. She catches Bucky’s actions and sends him an amused look.
You accept the kiss Pietro drops on your forehead and greet Wanda excitedly, too busy chatting with her to notice the two pens that slip from your pile.
Bucky sniffs, tugging his varsity jacket tighter and deciding to embrace his mistake, walks over to you.
“Hey,” he greets, your name coming out like silk, shooting you a smile. He bends down to pick up your pens, handing them to you with a cajoling rise of his lips.
You return it a pause later. “Hey, um—thanks…” you struggle for a second before you’re cut off.
“Bucky!” the classmate that you were talking to exclaims, and Bucky realizes it’s Quinn, the girl he’d gone out on a date with a while ago. “I saw you on the field yesterday,” she tells him, twirling a strand of red hair around her finger. “You were amazing.”
“I appreciate it,” he thanks her, his eyes flickering back to you for a second, spotting you beginning to step away with a short wave and an elbow to Wanda's side. “I should go, I needed to talk to her,” he starts, acting quickly. “But it was nice to see you again. You look great, I like your necklace.”
Quinn’s fingers reach to pinch at the pendant on her chain, tilting her head at Bucky as she beams. “Thank you!”
Bucky nods, turning to find you gone. He looks around, surprised, but finally catches sight of you turning a corner with your friends. Before he can head toward you, Quinn catches his arm.
“Aren’t you going to ask me out again?” She smiles at him, eyes wide and shiny.
He winces, forcing himself to not glance back at you. “You’re a really great girl, Quinn, but I don’t think we’d work out. I’m sorry.”
“Oh,” Quinn says quietly, not returning the apologetic smile he sends her. He twists his lips and apologizes again before jogging over to you, slowing to match your pace when he finally catches up.
“Hey again,” he quips, offering you a smile. You return it kindly, twirling your pens between your fingers.
“Hey, Bucky.” Probably accidentally, you enunciate his name in a way that makes him realize you didn’t remember it when he came up to you earlier, and he bites back an embarrassed blush. “It was a good game yesterday.”
“Thank you,” he replies easily. “How was I?”
You cock your head at him. “Fine? You… were a soccer player.”
Pietro laughs, pulling you closer. “He’s asking if he lived up to the stories,” he clarifies, shooting Bucky a look. “‘Does another pretty girl think I’m great too?’” he mocks, the imitation edged in his accent.
You hum in understanding, turning back to Bucky. “Stories?” you echo. Your features bear no likeness to the pull Bucky is used to with girls, nothing implying the agreement or validation he’s usually welcomed with.
“Oh, you know,” Bucky starts with a nonchalant shrug, “of the ‘insane stamina’ and ‘could totally carry a bus’ variety. You know, the ‘Winter Soldier’ name.”
Your eyebrows raise. “‘Winter Soldier?’” you repeat, words bolded in an unconscious drama.
“’S my nickname,” Bucky explains sheepishly. You continue to stare at him for a second before cracking a smile.
“Bucky Barnes, right?” you ask him. He pushes his tongue against his cheek at the blow to his ego and nods. “Which one were you again? All the uniforms are the same, I can only recognize Thor and Piet.”
Pietro hoots. “Fifteen, baby!”
Bucky eyes you, his cheeks pulling with an amused lilt. “You wound me, doll.”
“I wound you?” you giggle, unable to help it. “This is our first conversation and I have the power to wound you. I don’t know how I feel about having this power over a stranger.”
Bucky gasps, reaching out to grab your hand with his ungloved hand and wrap it around an invisible knife to plunge it into his chest. He chokes as he mimes nursing his wound. “Just digging it in deeper, aren’t you? Vixen.”
“Oh, come on, you expect me to have learned your number after knowing you for five minutes?” you exclaim with mild indignance, a whisper of amusement betraying it. You click your tongue. “You were fine, I’m sure,” you respond finally. Wanda jabs an elbow into your arm and whispers something to you. Your eyes light up. “Oh, you’re seventeen! The ball hogger! You do realize you’re in a team, right?”
Pietro claps, nodding approvingly at you. “And me, little flower?”
You roll your eyes. “You were fast. Like always.”
“That’s code for ‘the best out there,’” Pietro tells Bucky.
“I think the code for that is Bucky Barnes,” Bucky retorts, turning back to you. “‘Got a favorite player yet?” He asks you.
You tilt a brow at him. “On the soccer team?”
“Yeah,” Bucky confirms.
“Based off of what?” You counter.
“Anything.”
“Oh.” You think. “Then no.”
Pietro clears his throat loudly.
“What if I get you the best seat possible next game?” Bucky offers.
You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m good where I am.”
“She barely pays attention anyway,” Wanda informs. “All she does is complain.”
You nod. “And I can do that in any seat.”
“Alright… what if you wear my jersey at the next game?” Bucky continues.
You raise an eyebrow. “And you’re convincing me, right?”
“You should be swooning right now,” Bucky argues accusingly, but his words are tinged with a grin.
“Oh, my bad,” you deadpan, placing a hand on your chest and rocking on your heels. You flutter your lashes at him and melt your lips into a watery smile. “Oh my, golly! Benson’s sweaty jersey!”
“Bucky,” Bucky grumbles. “Bucky’s sweaty jersey.”
“Right,” you reply with an attentive nod, laughing quietly. Your attention is drawn by another building and you turn. “I gotta go, but please keep the jersey far away from me.” You point at Bucky and then wave at Wanda and Pietro. “I’ll see you guys around.”
“Me too!” Bucky shouts after you. You only reply with a thumbs up Bucky can tell is sarcastic even if he can’t see your face, slipping past a closing door. Bucky purses his lips, looking after you. “Huh.”
A hand slaps down on his shoulder, and Pietro's laughter bubbles from behind him. “Nice work,” he lies.
-
Entirely suddenly, your mind feels vignetted with inky stress. You suppose it was predictable, having ignored the weight your responsibilities had lain on your shoulders for as long as you had, but it’s exhausting nonetheless. You blink slowly at your document in a lousy attempt to soothe yourself, feeling as though you were staring at it through a tunnel.
You yawn as you splay yourself out on your bed, stretching your legs out as far as you can. Your fingertips brush your pillows as you let your eyelids fall closed for just a second, thoughts and reminders of the rest of the things you need to do lining your entrance to sleep, but the door is so inviting, the red tape of your to-do list blurring.
Your ringtone cuts in when you begin to reason with yourself, back straightening fast enough to give you whiplash when you open your eyes again. Your hand slams around your phone, blinking fast as you read Bruce’s contact name.
“The thing,” you mumble, remembering Bruce’s insistence that you went to something. You answer his call and fight to not let yourself fall back on your bed, free fingers moving to rub at your temple.
“Hey, are you ready?” Bruce asks, the sounds of conversation in the background.
“Sure,” you answer tiredly, looking down at yourself. Whoever it is you’re going out with can’t be too picky. “Ready for what again?”
“The team’s win? We’re going out to eat at an actual restaurant and everything.”
You purse your lips. “Are we going to a bar?”
There’s a moment of silence on his end, only highlighted by the muffled voices that converse. “...No.”
Nodding earnestly, you stand, stretching and shaking your limbs out in an attempt to wake yourself up, but the attempt is mocked when you yawn once again. You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror and wince, tilting your chin up to get another angle. “Then, yes, I’m ready. I guess.”
“That's great!” Bruce praises. “Because we are outside.”
You frown, grabbing a hair tie from your dresser before walking out of your room, surprised to see your apartment empty. “We?” you repeat as you look around, confused. “Are Wan and Pietro with you?”
“They’re probably already there. And ‘we’ as in I picked up Thor, Steve, and Bucky.”
You grunt in response, shutting off the lights and plucking your keys from the counter before locking up.
“You know Bucky. He’s not that bad.”
There are sounds of protest and you catch an offended ‘that bad?’ before you hang up, waving to Bruce’s car. The door to the back opens before you can touch the handle, a grinning face and shiny blue eyes welcoming you. “Hey, doll, you look great.”
“Bunny,” you greet, ducking your chin in a nod. Bucky gets out of the car, extending a hand to invite you inside.
“I don’t mind that one.” Bucky winks.
You shake your head, crawling inside and saying hi to Steve, nose wrinkling when you realize you’ll be sandwiched between the two guys, and turning when you notice Bucky getting in again. You tug on your seatbelt with a polite smile to Steve, bumping into hard muscle when you aim for the buckle.
“You tryna cop a feel? Could’ve just asked,” Bucky tells you, bumping you gently.
“Oh please,” you scoff, poking him with the metal thing. “Excuse me, seatbelt. Bruce isn’t that great of a driver. He’s in his twenties and gets night blindness.”
Bucky pats your hand gently and takes the belt from you, clicking it into place for you.
“Nice and safe, don’t worry, doll.”
You set your lips into a thin line and look straight ahead, pushing your phone into the space between your thighs so you don’t lose it. “How’d you do on your Norse mythology exam, Thor?” you ask, recalling the nerves with which he’d told you about it a couple of days ago.
“Wonderful! I really enjoy the subject. Thank you for helping me study,” Thor replies cheerily.
“You didn’t even need to,” you assure, stifling a yawn. Bucky frowns.
“Did you get some sleep?” Bruce wonders, eyeing you at a red light.
“Yeah, I drank some coffee,” you respond.
“Not the same thing. Not even close.”
You laugh. “I’ll be fine,” you promise. “Stop worrying.”
“I’m always worried,” Bruce grumbles.
“Hey, how was art today?” you ask Steve, nudging his arm gently. Bucky’s brows furrow, urging Steve to look at him and read his mind with an intense stare. Steve does not.
“You were right. I was being too judgemental,” Steve sighs. “I should’ve listened to you.”
“Listened to who?” Bucky buts in. “How did you know Stevie had art today?” he continues, trying to keep his tone light.
“We talk.” You shrug. 
“Oh,” Bucky starts, glaring at Steve. “Do you?”
“Yes.” You nod before actually yawning that time. “I’m sorry.”
“You should sleep more,” Bucky comments, watching you shake your head wearily.
“I have things to do,” you defend. “I sleep enough, it’s the stupid car ride, I always fall asleep in cars,” you defend. “But if it pleases you, I’ll sleep the entirety of tomorrow.” Your voice lacks the thick sleeve of satire you tend to use with him, more vulnerable in your exhaustion. Although your request is still sarcastic, Bucky can tell you know you need it.
“It will,” Bucky says.
For the most part, the conversation ends there, the group splitting into their own things during the car ride. After a few minutes, Bucky feels your head fall softly on his shoulder.
He stops paying attention to what Thor is saying, instead focusing on the way you edge toward him in your sleep, nudging your nose into his shoulder. He can see the way your lashes lay on your cheeks when you’re so close and the pretty bridge of your nose.
You’re more open than he’s ever seen you, eyes shut and lips parted with gentle breaths, and he can’t stop staring at you.
Then the car goes over a harsh bump, and Bucky wants to do everything he can to hold you still, but your eyes flutter open and you sit up, meeting his eyes for a second. “Sorry.”
“It's no problem,” Bucky assures, wanting to keep examining the lines of your face, but you clear your throat, looking forward, and Bucky has no choice but to do so too.
-
The surprise Bucky feels when he spots you at the celebration party is no match for the sweet excitement at the bottom of his stomach, immediately pulling his sleeve further down over his arm and brushing away loose strands of his hair. It would be embarrassing how much he cares about what you think of him if it weren’t so ridiculously important to him.
He busies himself with getting a drink for you, finding himself wondering if you’d come before, only to go unnoticed by him. There’s a startling burst of anger at himself with the thought, and Bucky blinks, eyes continuing to drift to you. Resolute, he moves toward you but pauses as he observes you.
The look on your face is one Bucky has never seen before—though he hasn’t seen many looks on your face before—but it settles so naturally on your features that it is difficult to argue that it’s unfamiliar. You look intense, but the way your eyes scan Wanda's boyfriend—who’s been dubbed Vision—is dangerous. Cocky.
You say something and your entire face relaxes resolutely, but your eyes remain expectant and arrogant, unamused with your companion’s reply.
Vision—who Bucky has heard is never wrong—sure seems wrong in whatever argument he’s just lost against you, and you know it.
“How’re my favorite geniuses?” Wanda pipes up suddenly, forcing Bucky’s daze away, appearing from an unknown place to sling an arm around you. You snap out of the look, your face softening, but the pleasure of being right dances across your features. Bucky clears his throat and takes a sip from his beer, stepping toward you.
“Oh, you know, out-geniusing the other,” you reply, glancing at Bucky as he walks up behind Vision.
“Hey Dolly,” he smiles. “I thought you had too many books to read to go out.”
“I finished them all,” you respond. “And ‘Dolly’? How old are you?”
Bucky clicks his tongue. “What would you prefer, sweetheart?”
“My name,” you state, then squint at him, cocking your head. “Do you remember it? I imagine it’s hard to keep track.”
“Of course I remember.” Bucky scoffs. “I don’t think I could forget.”
You breathe out a laugh. “Right, I’d imagine asking her out to swing dance without it would be pretty hard.”
“Are you asking me to swing dance with you?” Bucky retorts.
You snort. “Yeah, sure.”
Bucky holds out his hand expectantly, covered arm at his side.
Your eyes thin resolutely at him, scrutinizing the details of his face before you shake your head. “You’re ridiculous,” you criticise.
His hand drops and he pouts. “C’mon, pretty please.”
“Do you know what music you swing dance to?” you ask him, wagging a finger to refer to the booming music drowning most sounds inside the house. “Because this isn’t it.”
“I need to take advantage of the fact that you’re here, doll. You said so yourself you don’t go out much,” he complains. 
“Yeah, this is why!” you reply, your last words getting louder as the music impossibly gains volume.
“What?!” Bucky shouts, moving closer to hear you better, but you laugh and shake your head, telling him something he can’t make out. When you realize he can’t hear you, you give him a pout.
“And I was just about to say yes,” you say sadly.
“Wha—” Bucky’s cut off by the sharp shattering of glass. With a cringe, your eyes widen as you look behind him, eyes flickering back to him expectantly. He turns and groans. “I have to check that out. I’ll be right back!” he pledges, walking away to see a deadly amount of broken alcohol bottles on the floor, the stench of their contents burning his nose.
When he comes back, you’re gone.
The disappointment that blankets over his shoulders at the fact is just as surprising to him.
-
You’re in your bubble at the library, a little clueless to everything going on around you as you thumb the corner of a page, your pinky hovering below your book’s cover. You’re a few pages away from something exciting, teeth digging in with anticipation for it, when someone enters your field of vision, a large figure plopping down on a seat in front of you.
You spare them a glance and are surprised to find Bucky, sporting a large grin and his varsity jacket. You observe him suspiciously for a few moments, having never seen him even near the library, before returning your attention to what you’re reading.
“So, you’re actually here, huh?” he asks, and you shush him, shooting him a look to lower his voice. “Sorry.”
“Why are you here?” you question lowly instead, still not putting down your book.
“Anyone can come to the library.” Bucky points out, your name playfully scornful. You level a look at him.
“Yes. Why are you here? With me? You didn’t know my name until, like, two days ago.” You’re careful to keep your voice down.
“First of all,” Bucky starts, beginning to list off his fingers. “We met two weeks and three days ago.”
“Did we?” you drone, attempting to concentrate on the lines of your book once more.
“And, how do you know we don’t just have alternating study days?” Bucky points out.
“I am here every day,” you inform. “And if that were the case, why would you be here right now?” you rebut. “What would you be studying for? Coaching?”
“Maybe I wanted to switch things up,” Bucky defends. “And I’m not studying coaching. I’m studying biomedical engineering.”
You meet his eyes at the revelation, unable to keep the surprise off your face. You fold down the edge of the last page you read offhandedly and let your book flutter closed. “What? Quinn said you were in… sports.”
“Well,” Bucky sucks in a breath as if what he’s about to tell you is a revelation. “Soccer is a sport.”
“I know,” you affirm blandly. “But are you actually in biomedical?”
“Yeah,” Bucky nods. “What, do you not believe me?” he asks, raising a gloved hand to his chest. “I must say, I’m very disappointed in you perpetuating harmful stereotypes.”
“I’m just surprised. You’ve never talked about it before.”
“We’ve talked four times,” Bucky points out. “Although I want it clear that I have tried to make it more.”
“Yeah, what’s that about, by the wayt?” you wonder, setting your elbows on the table and dropping your face into your hands, cocking your head at him. “From what I’ve seen, you have your fair pick of girls and guys.”
“I wouldn’t say that—”
You laugh quietly. “Sure.”
“But I like you,” Bucky explains, shrugging. “You’re smart and pretty and you interest me.”
You scan his face, squinting. Astonishment tints your chuckle. “You are so much better at this than I thought you were.”
“Sorry?”
“At first, I was like ‘this guy? This is the Becky people won’t shut up about?’”
“Bucky,” he corrects swiftly.
“But I see it now. The charm. I’m not falling for it, but I see it.” You nod appreciatively and open your book once again to continue reading.
Bucky frowns in front of you, reaching over to insert an abrupt hand in between the pages. “What are you talking about?”
Sighing, you peel his fingers off the pages and meet his eyes, startled to see their intensity, crinkles at their edges, his lips pinched in a pout. You gasp. “Oh my god, you’re doing it now.”
“Sweetheart, it’s something that just happens naturally, I’m not doing anything.”
You stare at him for a moment before shaking your head, turning back to your book. “You are insufferable.”
“And you’re beautiful.”
“And you’re ridiculous.”
“Go out with me, c’mon,” Bucky urges, smiling now. It’s stupidly sweet.
You click your tongue. “Dates are a waste of time.”
“I’ll make it worth it. Promise.”
“I don’t have time to go out with guys I’ve talked to four times,” you explain.
“Alright, so if I talk to you more, you’ll go out with me?”
You wrinkle your nose. “I don’t… I’m not liking where this is going.”
“I will talk to you every single day from now on,” Bucky vows.
“Oh, I was right,” you groan. “I just mean you don’t know me. My favorite color, my favorite book, my order at my favorite restaurant, things like that.”
“I will know all of that,” he pledges.
You laugh disbelievingly. “Okay, Borky.”
A cocky little smirk plays on his lips as he winks. “Bucky,” he says archly.
-
You learn his name. Completely. Totally. Unmistakably. 
It’s hard not to, not when he becomes a constant in your life and not with a name like that.
James Buchanan Barnes. It rolls off your tongue too nicely all of a sudden.
He talks to you every day. Just like he said he would, even if it’s a two-minute conversation over text where he makes sure you get home safe and asks about your day. It would be overwhelming if it didn’t make you smile so much.
He doesn’t get upset when you answer two hours later because you were distracted with work, asking you how Linda the librarian was and if she liked the cookie he got her three days ago.
You relay her enthusiastic message, deciding to brush over the wink and coy smile she sent you at his mention. Then maybe, because you’re finished with your work for the day, you shove aside your notebook and bite back a small smile when he tells you how pretty he thought you looked in the glimpses he had of you today.
Organizing your books into a neat little pile, you message him and Bruce that you’re heading home. And you intend to, you really do, but then Bucky insists you call him the next time so he can walk you home, and you’ve suddenly been sitting at your table, uselessly leaning against your things for ten minutes.
You shoot up when you realize, lightly bewildered with yourself, gathering everything into your arms as quickly as possible, and shoving your phone into your back pocket. You hope Bruce isn’t getting too worried as you push open the library doors, hurrying down the steps and onto the path you usually take. You’re alert as always, careful to listen past the crunching of leaves beneath your feet and watch for shadows that edge past yours, digging your keys out of your pocket to hold them in the spaces between your fingers.
It’s three minutes in when you begin to feel unsettled. Your phone has vibrated three times in your back pocket in the past two minutes, but the darker section of your path is coming up, and chills rush up your neck as you imagine what the distraction could cost.
A shadow follows nearby, inching closer and closer until your hands are shaking and you’re on the verge of running.
Fingers wrap around your arm and you shriek, books slipping from your arms when they wane. Stumbling back, you tug yourself away from the intrusion, breaths coming out in big, wet gasps when you turn. Bucky’s wide blue eyes meet your glossy ones, hands up in surrender when he catches the tremble of your bottom lip.
A tear streaks down your cheek in profusing relief that it’s only him, the anger indistinguishable beneath it as you stumble into Bucky on wobbly knees, his name braided in a whimper. His arms settle around you hesitantly, guiltily.
“You scared me,” you whisper. “Don’t you know not to sneak up on people?”
“I'm sorry,” he replies sincerely. “I didn’t think—”
“I'm just relieved it’s you,” you interrupt, fingers fisting his shirt. You’re far away, stuck in a memory very far away, and yet it feels enough like you’re standing in it. Your grip is a vice, forcing him closer still until the pads of your fingers can feel the warmth of his skin beneath his shirt. 
Bucky murmurs your name, a large palm stroking up and down your back in comfort. His voice is mournful. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
You snap out of it at the nickname, pulling away from his embrace as if you’d awoken. He doesn’t startle, only stares at the furrow of your brow and the light that reflects off of your cheeks. Swallowing hard, you blink away the rest of your daze, eyes falling on your things scattered on the ground.
“My computer,” you remember, frantically dropping to your knees to search for it.
Bucky doesn’t pry, kneeling next to you to help pick up your books, taking the ones you’d stacked up sloppily into his arms. You carry your laptop with a careful grip, relatively unharmed.
“I should get going,” you tell him, motioning to take your things from him but he refuses, ushering you into his car.
It’s silent for a while after you halfheartedly agree, obviously still embarrassed. Bucky’s hesitant to probe, but the guilt at what he could’ve reminded you of gnaws at his gut.
You can feel his stare each time he glances at you curiously; cautiously, as if you’ll burst into tears spontaneously. 
“I was attacked once.” Your voice is quiet, soft for the obvious teeth the words pierce you with. “Walking home from the library,” you explain. “It’s why Bruce doesn’t like me walking home alone.”
“You… someone…” Bucky pinches his lips into a tense line, fingers tightening around the wheel. “Why?” It’s painfully incredulous.
You look down at your lap, the left edge of your lips pulling into your cheek. “I was alone. It was easy.” What’s left to say seems painful for you to push out. “He didn’t like me very much.”
“I'm sorry,” Bucky offers after a tense second, unsure of what else to say and how angry he can be for you.
“For what? You didn’t have anything to do with it,” you retort, offering him a weak smile in an attempt to lighten the mood.
“For scaring you,” Bucky insists sincerely. “For the fact that it happened in the first place.” You don’t respond, watching as trees and lights flash past the window.
“It really wasn’t as bad as you think. The label makes it seem worse,” you palliate. “He hit me once and pushed me against a wall. A bruise was the worst of it. Both physically and to my bank account.”
Bucky’s frown stays, quiet blanketing the both of you.
“So, why’d you come get me? How’d you know I was only on my way?” you chime suddenly.
“I wanted to check up on you. You weren’t answering your phone.”
You pause, meeting his eyes with an inquisitive pinch to your features. “So you drove to find me?”
“Technically, I just wanted to drop by your apartment to make sure you got home safe, but that sounds better, so let’s go with it.” Bucky shoots you a grin. An olive branch.
You accept it as you mimic the sweet curve of his lips. “Ah, yes, and that’s how Barnacle gets ‘em. Being charming and funny and sweet—”
He lets a light chuckle slip past his lips, sparing you a delicate glance. You’re already looking at him, softer in your gaze than he’s ever seen you.
He hums inquisitively. “You think I'm charming and funny and sweet?”
You laugh openly, shaking your head but not negating his words. You hug your laptop closer to your chest, constellations reflected in your shadowed eyes as you look through the window. “I think—” you inhale in relief. “We’re here.”
Bucky slows to a stop when he reaches your dorm, shutting off the car and stepping out as you pack up. You only notice his actions when your fingers slip past the handle once you move to open your own door, huffing air out of your nose when he smirks wantonly at you.
“Thank you,” you grunt, climbing out and clutching your things.
You walk ahead, listening to the door slam and the subsequent sound of shoes quick against the pavement until he walks steadily beside you. “So, you wanna do that again soon?”
You laugh, motioning to grab your keys. “Do what again?”
He steals the jingling set from your fingers, moving hurriedly to the door when you make a noise hald surprise half indignation. He jams a silver one in, cringing when it doesn’t fit. You glower as you reach him, eyeing his hands as they continue to shove the wrong key in the lock. “It's the bronze one—no, the other one. How do you not—”
The door swings open, a satisfied smile parting Bucky’s face.
“Thanks,” you sigh, taking back your keys as you step inside. He stands outside awkwardly, kicking a pebble around with his foot. You squint doubtfully at him after you’ve set your things down and he’s not following behind you like you thought he would be. “What’re you doing?”
“You have to invite me in,” he explains.
“What, like a vampire?”
He blinks. “Yeah, like a vampire.”
You grin toothily. “Vucky…” It drips in an exaggerated accent.
“It's cold out here,” he reminds.
“Maybe you should go home then,” you suggest.
His face drops for a second and you find yourself feeling a tug of something sickening at your stomach. Like a reflex, the offer leaves your throat before you can help it.
“Or. Come inside.” At his hesitant posture, you suck in a bubble of air. “Do you want to come in? You’re welcome to.” I want you to.
He stares at you long enough for you to squirm before a smile breaks through his face. “Really?”
You bite the inside of your cheek, flimsy regret already churning in your gut. “Yeah. Just come on in already. It’s cold outside, dummy.”
-
It’s startling the first time you miss Bucky's ever-constant presence.
You’d rather not admit it, but it’s hard not to—not when he finds you between classes to carry your books, teasing you about your lack of a backpack but always leaving you with only your laptop and a pen in hand. You can’t help the smiles when he “coincidentally” bumps into you at your favorite coffee shop enough times to have your order ready when you arrive on your tea day.
His goofy jokes while you study at the library get less annoying and, annoyingly, more endearing. You suddenly know a whole lot about biomedical engineering and Bucky. You know his sister’s favorite color and can spout stories about Steve before he grew five times his size like you were there yourself.
It's infuriating, you think, but you don’t mind as much when Bucky's making you laugh with lovely crinkles at the edges of his eyes.
“I like the ocean,” you say sometime at the library, books spread on the table, ignored. He looks up from his notebook in surprise, putting down the pen you’d lent him two weeks ago. “It’s the reason why my favorite color is blue.”
His own blue glitters as he nods, listening. “‘Thought it was because of my eyes.”
You reward him a laugh and a roll of your eyes. “I really wanted Atlantis to be real when I was little,” you tell him. “And mermaids. Even if they were the ugly ones that murder you,” You confess in a rare moment of transparency, meeting his eyes before you clear your throat, bringing your attention back to your laptop.
“I like space,” Bucky offers. “It's endless.”
You nod in acceptance, clearing your throat as if to rid yourself of what you’ve given him.
“You collect those squished pennies, right?” Bucky asks. 
You’re startled that he remembers, and it takes a second for your brain to catch up. “Uh—yeah. Why?” 
Bucky turns to dig around in his bag, pulling out something small and bronze and shiny with a brilliant smile. ”I went to this little souvenir shop the other day and found one of those machines.” He extends it to you and flips it slowly between his index and middle. “It has a little fuzzy monster thing on it. I don’t get it, to be honest.”
It never crossed your mind that he would do that for you. A startling line of electricity runs up your arm when your fingers meet his, quick to take the penny from him. “Thank you,” you mutter, observing the coin in the light. The large eyes of the embossed little monster stare back at you. “This is really nice of you.”
“It’s not big deal,” Bucky shrugs. “I just thought you’d like it.”
Honey fills your throat. Gulping, you glance at the clock, nearly relieved to see it’s time for you to leave. “I gotta go,” you tell him, gathering your things. The smooth edges of the penny dig into your palm. He stands in tandem, rolling his shoulders.
“Okay,” he says. “I’ll walk you.”
“You don’t have to,” you begin.
“I want to. Besides, it would kind of feel weird not to after so long.”
You nod along. “Right.” 
He ducks his chin in affirmation, picking up his stuff too. Furtively, he lightens your own load.
You notice but know better than point it out and argue, remembering how you ended up bedrudgingly carrying only a pen last time.
“Does Sam still have your car?” you ask as you leave the library.
“Yup. One more week, he says.”
“Do you believe him?”
“Well, he’s been saying that for two, so…”
You laugh, staring up at a big tree vignetted orange.
Bucky nudges you lightly as you begin to drift away, preventing you from walking into the street. He guides you past a fissure in the sidewalk as you gasp at something in a boutique’s window. “There’s a sale at the bookstore!”
“Wanna go tomorrow?” Bucky asks.
You nod. “Can we?”
“Sure, we’ll just leave the library a little earlier,” Bucky suggests, balancing the books in his arms.
“Someone’s sure of themselves,” you tease. “You’re walking me home tomorrow, too?”
“Of course. I have been for months,” Bucky points out with a shrug.
Your jests die on your tongue as you realize he’s right, the discovery shocking when the memories of your solitary walks are further away than you had thought; suddenly, you remember that the dog you’d pointed out two weeks ago was more for his benefit than yours.
“Weeks,” you argue weakly, throat suddenly dry.
“Weeks could definitely be months,” Bucky reasons. 
You ignore him, stopping in your tracks. “Why?”
A frown tugs at his lips as he pauses as well. “Because weeks add up to months?”
“Why have you been walking me home every day for months?”
“‘Thought it was weeks?”
“Bucky,” you say, a little urgent.
He shrugs boyishly, near flippant but your things in his arms don’t let you believe that. “I don't want you to walk alone.” Then, “I wanted to make sure you got home safe.”
Shocked pupils dart around wildly and it’s difficult to swallow before you steady yourself, clearing your throat. Your features are pinched in a sort of raw determination—open, honest. “Thank you.”
He smiles and it’s soft as he shrugs lightly, nearly nonchalant.
Before you let yourself get too caught up in the curve of his lips and realize you’ve imitated it unconsciously, you look away, clearing your throat in relief when you spot your door.
“Right. Um, thanks again.” You take your things from him before he can think twice about it, speed walking to your door.
“Wait—” he stammers out, confused and too late when you give him a wave and a quick goodbye before slamming the door shut.
You swallow hard on the other side of the door, wide eyes staring aimlessly into the darkness. In the dreaded stillness, you can feel the heat that creeps up your neck and floods stickily into your face, the prickling static that needles into your palms. Shakily and illicitly, a hand drifts up to your chest, pressing to feel the thundering beating of your heart.
You curse to the silence, letting your eyes flutter shut in candied disappointment.
-
Bucky thinks you’re acting weird.
No—he’s sure you’re acting weird.
He knows you now, can recognize the sarcastic lines of your cheeks when you wrinkle your nose and poke fun at him. He’s memorized the genuine curve of your lips when he’s said something so cheesy it circles around to sweet. He knows you at your angry and at your happy, but he doesn’t know this.
You’re being nice to him. Sticky nice. Not you-nice.
He tries teasing first, poking a pencil into the flesh of your arm and asking if you’d fallen in love or something. You’d scoffed, blinked fast, and swatted him away. But you didn’t say no.
He’s aware he’s a fool to think so large of a lack of something, but he can’t pretend like it doesn’t inspire something in him, something like hope, like nectar, sticky in his throat.
He wonders if it clogs words up in yours—if it’s the reason you’re so quiet.
You stare through your computer, steam from your tea disappearing into the air as you blink. There’s a sweet indent in between your eyebrows, similar to the one you get when you study something you don’t completely understand, usually accompanied by the nail of your thumb between your teeth. But this one is lighter, more unintentional. You’re struggling with something but he can’t figure out what.
Your eyes flicker up to his, glinting in the light when you catch them on you.
“What?” you blurt. It’s louder than you intend, and you purse your lips in that embarrassed way that you do, shrinking down into your seat. “Why are you staring at me?”
“You’re pretty,” he says honestly.
He waits for your usual flustered reaction and you give it to him, but it’s vignetted with something, different in the quick blinks of your eyes and the thumb you brush over your nose. 
“I'm hungry,” you complain, ignoring his compliment.
“I'll buy you something,” Bucky responds immediately, already pulling out his wallet.
“You don’t have to,” you remind. “I wasn’t asking, I was just—”
“I know, it’s fine,” Bucky insists.
“I can pay. It’s my food.”
“It’s just a meal.” He squints at you. “You never pass up a chance of food on me.” He presses the back of his palm against your forehead and leans in closer. “Are you feeling okay?”
You heat up beneath his touch, shaking him off with a scowl. “You make me sound awful. Fine. Buy me my food then.”
Bucky raises his hands in surrender, wallet between his index and middle finger rising with his shoulders. “I will.” He squeezes your shoulder before he walks away, dipping down to your ear to whisper, “And you’re not awful.”
You huff, pinching your lips together as you watch him get in line, nudging his fingers into his wallet to take out money.
Arbitrarily, you’re annoyed. Bucky Barnes is infuriating, with his long charcoal lashes and lilting chuckle and nonchalance in giving things you want without your asking.
Your laptop screen darkens with your lack of attention, and you’re left staring at yourself, scrutinizing the thin lines around your eyes as you squint. You’re being ridiculous; you can’t be angry over Bucky being a sweet guy.
“They musta’ known you were coming,” Bucky whistles, balancing a bowl and a small bag already darkened with grease spots in his arms. You take the bowl from him, warmth seeping into your fingertips.
You furrow your brows at him when you pop the lid off, barely realizing you’d never told him what to get. “You got me cavatappi pasta,” you realize. You look upset.
“Yeah?”
Distressed, you snatch the bag from him, shoving your fingers inside to pull out two large chocolate chip cookies. “And chocolate chip cookies.” Your voice rises and falls with a slightly unhinged twinge, features pulling as you examine what Bucky got for you. Your comfort food; the token you’d never explained to him.
“Yeah. It’s what you always get. And I know you always want two cookies but only get one because you’re afraid you won’t finish it, but we can split it or you can save it, or—what are you doing?”
You sweep everything into your arms, holding the food tightly behind your books.
“I have to go.”
“What? We just got here.”
“I have an appointment.”
“For what?”
“For—things—it’s—” you huff. “I have to go.”
“Are you sure you don’t need a ride? I have my car back, you know,” Bucky offers, already beginning to get up, but you shake your head, his actions hitting something in your chest.
“I'll be fine, thanks for the…” you exhale sharply. “I'll see you later.”
You run off, ignoring his confused call of your name as you slam the door behind you.
Hot soup dribbles down your fingers as you speed walk back home, but you barely notice, struggling to remember why you’d rejected him before.
“I hate him,” you mumble, fully dishonest as you struggle with your keys. “I hate him so much.”
“Hate who?” Bruce asks from the table, sparing you a glance from his computer. His eyebrows join as he takes you in, every panting and crazed inch of you, mouth parting and head tilting. “Uh.”
“Bucky,” you reply, setting the a la carte box down hastily. You drop the cookies next to it.
Bruce stares at you.
You make a big gesture with your hands toward it, pursing your lips. “He bought me that. Just—insisted. He's so—” you sigh frustratedly. “I didn't even—he bought me cookies.”
“Okay.” It's long and hesitant. “And that’s bad because…” he begins to shake his head. “You don’t like cookies?”
Your shoulders drop.
“You hate cookies and pasta. You think they’re awful,” Bruce tries.
“No! I love soup and cavatappi and—he’s ruining everything! He's such an idiot!” you rub your face, nuzzling your nose into the crevice between your joined hands.
Bruce examines you for another second before: “Oh.”
“What?” you snap, meeting amused brown. “What?”
“Nothing,” Bruce muses, but his lips are set in a careful smile, amusement poorly hidden. “Just that you finally learned his name.”
His thoughts are pathetically obvious in his tone, lips in a thin line and eyes crinkled.
“Don’t,” you warn. “Bruce Banner—”
“I didn't say anything.”
“Do not think what you’re thinking,” you demand. “He’s a player and a distraction and—”
“Okay.” Bruce has never been one to argue, but his one word answer makes you more frustrated than anything else he could’ve said.
You puff and gather your food, striding to your room with a glare at your best friend. 
-
For the first time since you met Bucky, you follow through on an excuse to miss the game. It’s not a majorly important one—although Bucky pouts when you tell him either way, insisting that he needs you there for good luck—but you still feel a strange ache at the bottom of your stomach when the game begins and you’re too far away to cheer for him.
The edges of your lips are downturned, brows pinched as you stare at your phone before you realize what you’re doing and snap your attention away.
Scoffing, you shake away thoughts about soccer and the memory of Bucky's sweet blue eyes when he’d teased you, a strange tone of real sadness beneath his playful jests.
You pause, lifting your hands from your computer to eye the time once again. Furtively scanning the work you’re nearly done with, you allow yourself the distraction and grab your phone, fingers dancing in anticipation when your lock screen is littered with icons of messaging apps.
You click Bucky’s name first, smiling softly as you read a quickly typed summary of the game he probably sent after the first half was over. He sounds hopeful and excited, like he always does when he talks abouts soccer, but he signs off with a mispelled reminder that he misses you and a red heart. You check Wanda and Bruce's messages next, your face falling when you learn the second half hadn’t gone as well.
Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you glance at your work again and then at the clock, taking a quick breath before you force yourself to write a quick conclusion you promise yourself you’ll revise when you get home.
The game is over by the time you arrive, easily finding a parking spot in the midst of everyone’s departure. You hear disappointed grumbling as you make your way inside the stadium and cringe, striding toward the locker room.
Your name in Bruce’s voice makes you pause, turning to meet his pulled, bushy eyebrows and pinched lips. “What’re you doing here?”
“I finished early,” you explain. “And you said the game wasn’t going great so I thought I'd come and make sure the team’s okay.”
Bruce's features morph into something like realization and then into his poor poker face, lips pursed so tightly they’re edged white. “Right. The team.”
“Uh huh.”
“Well, since it’s the whole team, I should let you know most of them are in the locker room moping, but Bucky wanted to leave early.” Bruce looks pointedly to the right.
“What? Why?”
Bruce shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe he said something about seeing you, but since you’re here for the team—”
“Shut up, Bruce.” You squint meanly at him, making him swallow a laugh as you spin around and continue on your path. 
You bump into Bucky when you turn a corner, familiar hands coming to rest on your arms distractedly before his eyes brighten in recognition. He says your name in surprise, shaking you gently as if to check that you’re real. His hair is damp from the quick shower he’d just taken, dark spots from water droplets around the collar of his gray shirt. He smells like soap and Bucky and it makes you a little dizzy.
“Hey, I heard about the game,” you say. “I wanted to check up on you.”
“Oh. I was just coming to see you. I told you that you were our lucky charm.” Bucky laughs but it’s not completely honest, his disappointment about the loss shining through.
You frown, unsure of what to do. Suddenly, you shove your hands into your coat pockets, pulling out a crinkled baggie in each one. “I brought you something.”
Bucky steps back, eyebrows furrowed as he notices what you’re holding. “Are those orange slices?”
Nervous now, you let your arms drop. “Yeah. I, uh—figured they’d maybe give you a boost and—” You cut yourself off, laughing awkwardly. “It was dumb.”
“My mom used to bring me orange slices after soccer practice,” Bucky mumbles.
You perk up. “Yeah. You told me about that and I thought maybe you’d like them.” The end of your sentence lilts like a question, answered by the quick movements of Bucky's fingers when he takes a baggie from you and pulls it open, taking a slice out to grin happily at it.
He dips his fingers in again and hands another to you, bumping his own small slice against yours. “Cheers.”
As soon as he bites into it, the juice from the fruit runs down his fingers, eyelids falling closed in a delighted hum. You barely realize the sap has streaked sticky orange down your arm, too.
He breathes out your name as he opens his eyes, a dazzling blue in the fluorescent lights of the locker room hall. “I forgot how…” He shakes his head, drifting off, and takes the other bag from you, pulling you to him. He sighs big and warm, rumbling through his chest.
You rub your nose against his sweatshirt, breathing in deeply. There's the fresh scent of citrus and then the lavender body wash you’d bought for him faint beneath his own distinct smell. He thanks you blithely, a lot lighter.
You shrug it off and force yourself to pull away, shivering at the loss even if you initiated it. “Do you want to get something to eat and watch that new episode of The Great British Bake-Off we missed last week?”
“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, hand drifting down to pull yours along. His skin is sticky and sweet against yours, orange juice smearing on your palm, but you can’t find it in you to care.
-
You feel sick when you step outside; a sticky, prickly rush that coats your throat in sap. It’s cold enough to make goosebumps rise on your skin, dark enough for the stars to drown in ink. Any appetite you had disappears, replaced with something clammier and painful, a twisting anxiety as a result of a bad day and a completely avoidable situation.
The bags with your food bump warmly against your knee, plastic handles pulling against the skin of your wrist. If you stay as you are, there will be indents of them once you finally put the bag down. 
Something like dumb, chest-puffed stubbornness tugs incessantly at you when you contemplate calling Bruce to come pick you up, a biting voice snapping pathetic for even thinking about it convincing you to shut the door behind you, locking away the choice of warmth and safety and shame.
It’s very silent when you begin to walk, the crinkling of your bag loud and in tandem with your steps. You let it slide down and hook on your fingers, carefully aware of shadows that might peek out behind yours and off-space footsteps.
Lonely fingers curl in on themselves, missing the comforting frigidity of the keys you’d forgotten at home. Your dying phone vibrates in the tight grip of your hand, spurring your steps faster. A dark lump appears on your shadow’s shoulder, and you freeze, spinning around violently to face the street, empty behind you.
You turn back around hesitantly, breath trembling. You could’ve sworn you felt someone else behind you.
Eyes rounded and wet, you begin to walk again, feeling an uncomfortable heat in the space where your ribs meet. Your required cognizance turns frantic, making your fingers shake and oxygen difficult to get into your lungs. There’s an echo to your footsteps. When you blink, there’s the ghost of an unforgiving hand on the back of your neck, the sharp slam of your jaw against brick. You gasp when you open your eyes again, a hand flying to the aching skin of your neck as you spin.
Your eyes promise that there’s no threat lurking behind darkness, but your mind blares with an assurance that there is. Ducking behind a wall, you scramble for your phone, cheeks cold with air-slapped tears as you press the call button for the first contact your fingers find.
Bucky’s voice is confused and comforting when he answers.
“I think—I think someone is following me,” you whimper, pulling your legs to your chest. Your food warms the side of your thigh. 
“What? Where are you?”
“I don’t know,” you cry. “I’m sorry, I should, it’s just—I was walking home from the restaurant and I heard something and I can’t concentrate, I can’t breathe—”
“Okay, it’s okay. Try to breathe, okay? Can you tell me what restaurant it was?”
You can picture the glowing sign, the faded wallpaper, the flowered curtains, but you can’t think, barrelling you deeper into panic. “I can’t remember—I—”
You can hear Bucky open his door. “Hey, it’s okay. Were you eating there or picking up to go?”
“To-go,” you answer tearfully, concentrating on the box pressing into your flesh.
“Okay. For you and Bruce or just you?”
“B-both of us.”
“You’re doing great, sweetheart. Try to take deep breaths, I think I—”
There’s a hollow click before it’s silent, the calm you’d been grasping at completely gone. “Bucky?” you plead. “Bucky?”
You pull your phone away from your ear, vision going blurry when you tap desperately at the screen and it doesn’t respond. Dead.
There’s a tremendous weight on your chest, your elbow knocking against the wall behind you with your attempts to draw in a breath. You shove your head in between your knees and try to remember Bucky’s voice, forget the cold fear that another clammy hand will reach for your hair and tug you up.
You need to get home. You can’t move.
You stifle your sobs with your leg, clawing at your shins and trying to think of anything else. You shove your hand in between your stomach and your legs, letting your phone fall to your thighs as the tips of your fingers reach the round hills of your collarbone. Your palm digs into your flesh until the beating of your heart pulses against your thumb, aching when you force it to stay put.
Thump, thump. “O-one,” you force, restraining your fingers from curling. Thump, thump. “Two.” A deep, shuddering breath that makes your mouth snap closed and your eyes flutter into darkness. Thump, thump. “Three…”
It’s how Bucky finds you, your nose deep between your knees, counting watery and muffled. He’s frantic when he sees you, panic like needles against his chest prickling to a pounding ache. He should be more cautious, stand still a few feet away for a few seconds, step slowly. If he were a little less in love, maybe he would; but he’s not, and the relief that you’re solid and no longer a tenuous voice on his phone is too much a relief.
He calls out your name and rushes forward, lowering himself down to his knees before he touches your arm. You flinch, shoving a strong hand against him, a horrible mix of anger and fear contorting your voice.
“It’s me. It’s Bucky.”
You still push yourself back against the wall, but your eyes finally meet his. “Bucky,” you test. “Bucky.”
It’s a silent, cold beat before you blink clearly, irises looking back a little less hazy. You murmur his name once more and promptly burst into tears, launching yourself into his chest. His arms wrap around you in tandem, pleasing the closeness your fisted fingers crave. He takes in your tears, steadily smoothing a hand over your back, desperation in the way he hooks his chin over the crown of your head.
“Are you okay?” he asks too soon.
You make a noise of which answer he can’t be sure of, so he gathers you up in his arms to push you away, only a little, only for a second to stare at you.
You grip at his shirt, cheeks shiny. And then, “I thought I was really gonna die this time.” Hearing your admittance causes a shift on your face, still crumpled and unready to deal with this. “Just for a second and—” Your lips twist to keep words back. 
Bucky pulls you back in.
“Will you take me home?”
His compliance is wordless and patient, hooking a finger through your takeout and grasping your hand with his free one, guiding you to his car. He helps you inside, setting the bag at your feet before he buckles your seatbelt and pushes strands of hair away from your sticky face.
Your breathing steadies while he drives, concentrating on the cool puffs of air hitting your collarbone, the lingering warmth from the food you’re suddenly starving for. But the wash of panic has left a shameful residue and a subsequent otiose apology on your tongue, making the once comforting silence expectant.
Your chest weighs when you finally spot your door, fighting to pull words from your mouth at the dimmed lights, but Bucky beats you to it, clearing his throat without unlocking the door. His left hand lays clothed on his lap, face stormed with uncertainty, but there’s a resolute edge that makes him look at you.
“I’m sorry,” you start, misunderstanding.
“Why?”
You aren’t sure, only certain of how guilty you feel. “For… bothering you. For making you comfort me. I’m sorry that you had to see me like that."
“Don’t apologize.” He clenches his jaw. “I don’t want you to…”
He shoves his sleeve up, taking a deep breath as he pinches the fingertips of the glove. “I know that wasn’t something you were ready to share with me. I understand, I…”
His gaze is heavy, flickering between your face and the fingers peeling away his glove. He swallows hard when it’s pulled off completely, looking away from the sight of his skin.
You can’t help the way your eyes track down his arm. It’s scarred with angry raised lines, ending at his fingertips and disappearing into his shirt sleeve. 
“I was in a fire once,” he says. “‘Got some scars too.”
“Is that why you wear—” You trail off at his nod. “Why are you… why are you telling me?” you ask, wincing at how the question sounds, but Bucky seems to understand what you mean.
He shrugs. “I don’t know,” he lies.
You blink at him, slipping a sure hand into his and squeezing. “Thank you.”
His eyes stay startled on your interlocked fingers, stubborn even beneath his gaze. He laughs hollowly then, squeezing back before he finally meets your eyes. “You, too.”
-
Your fingers are wound tightly around Wanda’s arm, the nails digging into her sweater giving away what your face is trying to hide. You’re zeroed in on Bucky's figure as he runs across green after blurry white.
The energy from the others who cheer in the stands makes you buzz, a rush of confidence urging you to jump to your feet when Bucky passes the ball to Pietro and then has it once again, close enough to the other team’s goal to make you clench a hand in anticipation.
With the flesh of your thumb between your teeth, you can’t help but lose your breath when it looks like Bucky's going to try to make it, only for it to be knocked out from your lungs when he crashes to the ground from the impact of another player.
Your mouth parts in a surprised o, tongue playing his name before you can stop it.
It's eerily silent in the stadium for a second as Bucky lies on the field, before it disappears into a fold of angry screams.
You’re not worried.
Bucky has never gotten hurt on the field before—”I’m too good,” he had promised you with an uneven grin, annoying in the way that he’s right—and the only times it’s seemed otherwise have been lies, a mere play he put on for the free kick. He had shaken his head disappointedly at you when you’d gotten worried, condemning you for not trusting him. He’s playful when he’s flustered.
So you’re not worried, because you know Bucky is fine.
Except he hasn’t moved in a little while too long and you don’t think it’s ever taken him this long to fake it. Although, maybe it feels longer because you can’t take your eyes off his figure.
You’re not worried.
Your fingers say otherwise, thumb tapping against your alternating fingers so frantically they get jumbled together, clumsily bumping into the crevices between them.
“Is he hurt?” Wanda asks.
“No,” you say automatically, stretching your fingers out like a starfish as if to rid evidence of your anxiety. “No, he’s fine.”
It's another moment that seems too long and the lines of Wanda’s worried face deepen, breaths a little faster. “He's not… he’s not getting up.”
“He’s fine,” you insist. “He has to milk it.” Glancing up at the timer, you nod definitively. “Yes, he has to milk it to get the penalty kick.”
“What?” Wanda asks, meeting your eyes in confusion.
“The hit didn’t seem that bad,” you lie unsteadily. “He has to milk it. He’s fine.”
Your panic escapes in the highs of your voice, something translucent hiding it when you clear your throat. He's still not getting up and it makes your breath comes out quickly. “He has to be,” you admit.
Wanda’s brows furrow, eyes searching your face once Bucky finally limps weakly to his feet, giving the ref a short nod. A sigh large enough to make you bend slips past your lips, caught in a relieved laugh as you gesture to him.
“I told you,” you tell her.
“He’s limping,” she points out.
“It’s fake,” you assure, fingers digging round shadows into your temples. “He’s doing his hero face, he’s completely fine.” It comes out more relieved than you thought it would.
He gets his penalty kick, makes it, of course, and it’s another few, a lot slower minutes before the game is over, but you’re making your way down thirty seconds before, too much attention on the game rather than your footing on the stairs.
You stumble over your feet, barely caring when the whistle blows to indicate the game is over, and turn in the direction of the hall to the locker room. Your anxiety nearly seems silly now, not as oppressive now that the soaked towel you’d been waterboarded with was dry. Yet, it still prickles at your fingertips, faint but enough to ache.
It's only a couple minutes before you can hear the pattering of feet, the stress that the outliers are Bucky, limping like he did on that field, nudging at your mind. The players wave at you, surprised, and your heart grows heavier and heavier with each passing team shirt that does not have “BARNES” on the back.
Then he’s there, completely fine and near the end of the line. He's grinning at the apparent win, letting Steve shove him proudly. His eyes widen in surprise when they catch sight of your own, saying something to his teammates without looking at them as he steps toward you.
“Hey, what’re you—”
Unable to help yourself, you throw your arms around his neck, the prickling disappearing the moment you touch him. He is hot and solid in your arms, but most importantly completely fine.
“Hey,” he coos, hugging you back.
You allow him a moment before you pull back abruptly and smack his arm.
“Ow!” he complains, grabbing your hand.
“You asshole! What’s up with the drama?”
“What, did I scare you?” Bucky teases, smirk dropping when your deadpan doesn’t glitter with playfulness. “Doll?”
“You took your sweet time getting back up,” you continue, ignoring his words. “You’ve never taken that long.” You’re alone in the hall now, eyes frenetic over his figure.
He softens then, chin pulling closer to his neck so his eyes can give you a reassuring smile. “Hey,” he says softly, tapping your wrist with his index, “‘m fine.”
“I know,” you contend, but it comes out a little relieved at hearing it in his voice. “I told Wanda that.”
His cheeks apple at your statement, amusement twinkling back in his eyes. “Of course. My girl knows I can't get hurt.”
You scoff at the term of endearment, nervous energy dissolving. “I'm not your girl.”
“Not yet!” he proclaims.
You wrinkle your nose, stepping away from him. “You stink. Go shower.” You pat his shoulder as a goodbye, beginning to head back out.
“Sure know how to charm a guy,” he mumbles, watching you walk away with a dopey smile.
-
You’re in your room, laying on your stomach with your computer in front of you and a drink Bucky had bought for you sitting on your bedside table.
He's sitting against your bed, scanning over a document. You should be doing something like it, but you can’t help but be distracted. He's quiet for once, features set in something not playful and not serious, a small knot between his brows indicating his concentration.
He looks pretty. You can’t be blamed.
If he notices your gaze, he’s kind enough to not point it out, although it’s unlikely. It’s undoubtedly heavy.
He’s staring down at his hand when he speaks up for what seems like the first time since hes arrived. His fingers dance nervously before he shoves them away from his view, edges of thick tissue peeking out as a bracelet on his wrist. “Do I make you uncomfortable when I flirt?”
You blink owlishly at him, unsure how to answer. He sounds so serious, guilty. “No.”
“If it makes you uncomfortable, I'll stop.”
“I know you would. But it doesn’t. Is something wrong?”
Bucky cringes. “You don’t really flirt back. I just want to make sure it’s not because I make you uncomfortable.”
“You don’t! I just… don’t really flirt. I don’t really think there’s a point if I’m not dating.”
“You don’t date?” He’s known this. To a point, which he thinks is not completely accurate now that he hears the way you say it.
“No.”
“Not even guys you like?”
“Especially guys I like, ” you clarify, cringing with the difficulty of putting so many feelings into so insignificant words. “Things get messy. It’s just… distractions and it’s never worth it.”
“You think love isn’t worth it? That it’s a distraction?”
You shoot him a look, huffing a little disappointedly, as if you’d expected him to understand something and he didn’t. “Why do people always twist my words into something so cynical?
I didn’t say that. Not love. I never said love, I just—it never ends well. It’s always something you pour so much into and get so little back.”
Bukcy shifts. “That’s not true. A relationship is fair, or at least, it’s supposed to be.”
“Ah, but see, ‘supposed to be’ and ‘is’ are two different things. I’d rather just skip the entire thing.”
Bucky frowns. “I don’t think you should.”
“You don’t think I should?”
“I don’t… I’m not telling you what to do, but I really think you should try. Love can be really great. And you deserve that.”
Your nails pinch at your fingers. “But what if it isn’t?”
“Then it isn’t.” You move to rebut, but Bucky continues. “But what if it is?”
You refuse to answer, chewing on your bottom lip.
Bucky gazes at you, waiting for a response before he realizes he won’t get one. He doesn’t push, turning back to his work.
“Why do you care so much?” you ask.
He sucks in a breath before admitting, “Mainly because I think you would really enjoy being loved. And very partially because I’m selfish.”
You hum. “You’re a really good guy, Bucky.”
“I try.”
You scowl lightly. “Incorrigible. Annoying. But really good.”
Bucky laughs. “Don’t forget—what was it you said about me? Charming? Sweet? Hand-to-heart hilarious?”
You launch a pillow at his head. “Nuisance is what I should’ve said.”
“Mm, a little contradictory but what’s life without some juxtaposition? Maybe I’m a man of many talents.”
The tip of your index finger shoves into his arm.
You fall into a peaceful silence once again when the laughter dissolves, your fingers busy away at your keyboard. There's a moment where you’re thinking, staring intently just past your computer and Bucky is staring at you, a thoughtful expression on his face, stony and all.
“Will you?”
It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to you. “Will I what?”
“Give it a chance.”
You want a moment to ponder it, because you know the right answer but you aren’t sure if you want to pick it. “Give what a chance?” you play dumb, but he doesn’t buy it.
You look to your side, unfocused eyes lazy on an ugly painting.
“Yeah, maybe.” You want to tell him it depends who it is, that you have very strict rules mentioning annoying brunets with blue eyes who walk you home from the library and never shut up, but you don’t, eyes travelling back to him slowly. His silence when they finally meet his own tell you he knows anyway.
Quickly looking back down, you avoid his gaze and continue to work.
-
You melt into his side, delightfully prickling when you lean in a little closer to take a sip of your drink. Eyes shimmering in the lame lights of the bar, you’ve never looked so openly bright, hardly containing your delight and everything you can spilling past anyway.
There are enough people in the place for it to feel rightfully uncomfortable, sweat-sticky skin bumping into the arm he has around your chair and making the heat rise, but Bucky can’t seem to notice.
It would feel plain ignorant to do so—to not focus completely on the stitched pride in the dips of your smile or the warmth of your palms as they splay flat on his arm.
It’s not enough to just have your fingers tug at him during conversations with strangers, he feels he should imprint the feeling of your touch like a branding.
You say his name in conversation, cruelly dragging your hand down to bracelet around his wrist and squeezing. You make a little shimmy with your shoulders that can’t help but make him laugh. He zeroes in on your lips, trying to make sense of what you’re saying.
You’re cute. You’re too sweet to be in this stuffy bar with him.
You turn to him brightly in the midst of another exclamation and he feels himself transported.
He can feel the end buzzer vibrating up to his fingertips, the breeze on the heat of his skin when he’d looked up, eyes searching for you like a habit. 
Your features are shrunken into the memory, suddenly far away but still pulled into the biggest beam you could muster, hands clapping ecstatically.
“Bucky,” memory-you says liltingly, too clearly.
When he blinks, he’s back in the present, the tip of your index dimpling his bicep, your face close enough for him to count each individual eyelash. He grins without really thinking about it. “Bucky,” you repeat, a little harsher but still teasing.
“Yeah?” he responds finally.
“We’re complimenting you and you aren’t paying attention? Are you feeling okay?” you frown, lips downturned but the edges of your eyes still crinkled with happy lines. The back of your hand meets his forehead.
“Fantastic,” he says, his left hand vining up to hook around your fingers and lay them on his lap. “Just won a game, didn’t you hear? All by myself, too.”
You shake your head at him, turning back to who Bucky realizes is one of your friends. Carol, you’d said.
“See?” You say accusatorily. 
Carol grins. “Yeah. Kind of hard not to when you describe it so thoroughly.”
That catches Bucky’s fluttering attention, an eyebrow shooting up questioningly in your direction. Your lips part in betrayal at Carol, and you begin to take your hand back from Bucky, but he hooks your wrist before you can. 
“I think Maria is calling you,” you tell her. “You should go see what that’s about.”
“Now, now,” Bucky starts. “Actually, I think I want to know how thoroughly you talk about me, sweeheart.”
“That's my cue,” Carol laughs, dipping a beer at you both. “I'll see you guys later. Congrats on the game.”
She bounces to her feet and takes off, leaving the two of you alone. Bucky nudges a finger in between your ribs, making you jump and swat at him. “Hey!”
“You talk about me to your friends?”
You stare at him, bottom lip pushing out defensively in your tipsiness. “Well, the star football player is one of my best friends, shouldn’t I be allowed to brag?”
“Best friend, huh? Bruce gonna be jealous?”
You wave him off, making a small, stubborn sound. “He ought to get over it with how much he ditches me.”
“See, I would never.” Bucky presses his free hand to his heart in oath. “Star football players are very reliable. Scoring goals, keeping plans, etcetera.”
You grin at the reminder, something sparkling beneath your skin like static, jolting your fingers when it begins to brim. You splay an excited palm on his shoulder out of pure excitement, seeming to relive the night.
“I am so proud of you,” you say. Saccharine, words stout with a smile and pride. “You did so well today.”
You’re startlingly genuine, entirely proud. Bucky can’t bring himself to tease or flirt.
“Thank you.”
You smile prettily, the light in your irises shifting at his authenticity. “I am,” you insist.
You just want to tell him, for him to hear you and understand how much you mean it. Your pupils flicker to a spot above his shoulder, distant for a second as your face brightens more. You laugh disbelievingly.
“I don't know all that much about football but from what I do, you’re certifiably extraordinary.” You sound out the word, unwilling to mess it up when you mean it so much. You try again. “You made a really great play.”
“Impossible,” Bucky corrects completely unsubtly, but it’s soft, blurred by yellow light from above and buzz from you.
You observe him for a second. “I think you’re amazing,” you say thoughtfully, not in an effort to compliment but in a sort of realization. “What… type of person…” you start but don’t continue, tongue unable to keep up with everything running through your mind. The walks home, the paid lunches, the attention, the ability. 
You inhale sharply, as if realizing you’re drifting off and trying to pull yourself back in.
Bucky knows what you expect—what he expects of himself—but he can’t bring himself to tease you, reiterate your words with an artful curve of his lips. He can’t concentrate enough to ignore the prickly warmth at the bottom of his stomach. He glances down at his watch.
“Should we go?” he says instead, casual but urgent. “It's late.”
He stands before you can process his offer, still a little drunk from stolen sips but only enough to make contrasts lighter. You blink up at him from your seat for a second before nodding, two short, stressed lines between your brows. He shouldn’t have been so abrupt.
Kinder, he helps you from your seat and guides you toward the door, keeping you away from stray elbows with benevolent redirection.
Your breath curls visibly in the air when you step outside, white and dissolving until it is replaced by another, longer exhale. You wrap your arms around your torso.
“C'mon,” he urges, guiding you to his car. “Let’s get you warm.”
“Should you be driving?” you ask as he searches his pockets for the keys, standing at the car door, watching him. “And what about the others?”
“Didn’t drink,” he answers, patting his coat pockets until he finds what he’s looking for.
You frown, slowly running through the night and realizing he’s right, recalling the sparkling water dripping moisture next to his jacket sleeve. The cold and the ennui knock a lot into focus.
He clicks open the car. “And this’ll force ‘em to call an uber. Worst comes to worst, I’ll drop by later to force them home. I just want to get you home first. No drunk footballers to puke on your feet.”
He rounds around to meet you, opening the door, and waiting patiently.
“Why didn’t you drink?” you ask. You’ve seen him drink before, tipsy in that breezy way where he’s a little flirtier with a little less filter. “You won a game. If you ever deserved it, it’s now.”
“I had to be able to drive you back.” He shrugs, cocking his head in the direction of the open car door. “Speak of the devil,” he starts pointedly, reminding you of your frigidity.
Still contemplating, you climb inside with furrowed brows, following Bucky's figure as he shuts your door, jogs back to his side, and settles into the driver’s seat. Rubbing his hands together, he turns to look at you. 
“You okay?” he asks.
“Uh huh.”
He clicks his tongue. “Look at that. I think you’re a little drunker than I thought.”
“I am not,” you argue, looking down at yourself and seeing nothing wrong until Bucky reaches over to pull your seatbelt over you. “Oh.”
Bucky breathes out a little laugh, amused.
“I'm just…” You contemplate for a second, sinking into the rumbling of the engine when Bucky turns the car on. Immediately, heat slaps your nose. The glass meets your temple bitingly, jolting your sentence back on track. You turn to see Bucky's attention already on you. “Happy.”
“You’re happy?” Bucky repeats pleasantly, shifting the gear into drive.
“Yes. It was a good day today.” 
You feel clearer now, the edges of reality crisper as you look out the window. “I know I already said it, but I'm really proud, Bucky. You win games and ace tests and don’t celebrate with a drink to drive me home. You’re kind of great.”
“Yeah?” he murmurs, glancing at you.
You hum an affirmation, inhaling deeply. At some point, Your few-sip buzz dissipated into something different.
Sober, but influenced on the darkness of the sky and the roundness of the moon. It feels safe suddenly, a rush of energy jolting you straight. You stare at Bucky's profile. “Yeah,” you confirm clearly. “It's kind of disappointing, you know.”
Bucky is caught off guard, sparing you a look when he stops at a stoplight. “What?”
“I just thought you’d be different.”
“How?” His brows are furrowed.
You take a moment to ponder. “Not so… you. More of the unforgivably arrogant and ignorant jock variety.”
“So you were expecting me to be one of those cartoon stereotypes?” he teases, looking back at the road with an easier smile.
“Kind of,” you laugh. “But you’re not and that’s really great.”
The red light from outside drapes over his features, pulled as he searches the crevices of your face. In response, it slackens slowly, from thoughtful to a little dazed as you stare back. Without meaning to, you’re leaning in at the same time he is.
His skin flips green.
You fall away from him with a surprised exhale, blinking in confusion.
It takes a second for Bucky to look away after you have, and you consider yourself lucky there’s no one else on the road during the long moment it takes for his attention to switch back to driving.
He doesn’t want to just forget what happened. He doesn’t want to move on from this yet. “What does that mean?” he asks, your compliment playing on repeat in his mind.
You stay silent, trying to figure it out yourself. “I don't… I don’t know.”
He tries to remain unbothered, glancing at you once more to catch your focus unmovingly on him. He pulls into your driveway and turns off the car.
“What about going on a date with me?” he requests, a little more serious that usual but glazed in his usual tone. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he continues.  “I'll dress up in that shade of blue you think I look so good in and we’ll go out to eat at that little hole-in-the-wall restaurant I'm still impressed you found. You’ll order that same thing you always do, and we can talk about that novel you’re reading—”
He doesn’t wait for the answer you’ve given before, stepping out of the car and striding over to your side.
You gaze up at him when he opens your door, your buckle unclasped in your hand. He's kind as he always is as he helps you out, hands settling on your shoulders to steady you when you nearly trip over a ridge in the sidewalk.
“Or… or we could go take a walk around the park. Or go to the movies, or the amusement park, or do laundry or taxes or—anything as long as it’s with you.”
And maybe it’s the easy smile, with the glitter of gold pride still sewn into his lips, or the genuine kindness he’s never failed to show you under the mask of the moon. Maybe it’s the proximity. Maybe you just can’t help yourself anymore. You kiss him.
He’s frozen for a solid moment, thick enough for you to start doubting yourself, beginning to pull away when he finally reacts, practically melting into you as his hands frantically pull you closer.
He pulls away hesitantly, torturously, a second later, eyes scrutinizing. “Wait, wait, wait, are you drunk?”
You shake your head, laughing gently at the thumb that pulls gently at the skin beneath your eye to make sure, urgently tugging you back into the kiss when he’s satisfied.
“‘Had to make sure,” he mumbles against your lips. “This can’t happen when you aren’t you.”
“It’s me,” you promise, pulling back. Before you can delve into your mind too deeply, you nod suddenly. “Yeah, okay.”
“Yeah, okay what?” he repeats, chasing after you to kiss you a few more times.
“I'll go out with you.”
His smile drops, fingers tightening around your hips. “Wait, really?”
You nod. “Yeah.” You grasp his arms tightly. “I should at least try, right?”ey
3K notes · View notes
buckrecs · 1 year
Note
Hi!! Was wondering if you had recs for Bucky and reader fake dating??
Fake Dating / Marriage
masterlist | req masterlist
Tumblr media
ONESHOT
Keeping Score by @all1e23
After hearing you begging Steve to pretend to be your fake boyfriend to keep your family off your back, Bucky quickly jumps at the chance to play your boyfriend even though you’re a hundred percent sure he hates you. What could possibly go wrong?
the right partner by @bucky-bucket-barnes
You and Bucky have always possessed a complicated history, and even more strained relationship with one another. Begrudgingly, you're sent out on a mission with Barnes where you two are posing as a newly wed couple. In an effort to investigate the consistent disappearance of young women in a certain neighborhood, you find yourselves forced to confront a whirlwind of emotions.
Suburbia by @wkemeup
Posing as husband and wife, you and Bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a Hydra hacker. Perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.
where do we go from here by @barnesafterglow
when you agree to be bucky's date for his sister's wedding - and his fake girlfriend for the weekend - you're expecting a good time with your best friend. but things may never go back to normal
Fake It Till You Make It by @buckyalpine
Fake dating solves everything… right?
A Little Longer by @buckyalpine
It’s just a little lie.
Crossing The Line by @jadedvibes
After your friends set you up on a blind date with your sworn enemy, you both drunkenly decide to mess with them by making a bet to see who can pretend to be a happy couple the longest.
annoying neighbors and fake boyfriends | 2 by @lovelybarnes
“You stayed over at my place one night but my nosy, annoying neighbour saw you leave. They always get on my case about being single so I told them that we’re dating to show them”
Undercover by @buckysknifecollection
You and Bucky go on an undercover mission, where you need to pretend to be married. You are close to solving the case when Bucky decides he’s done pretending.
Make Believe on Christmas Eve by @green-eyeddragonfanfiction
When your family insists you bring your [nonexistent] long-term boyfriend over for Christmas, you panic. You hadn’t expected to be put in this situation; you never thought you’d actually have to bring “him” over.
Stop flirting with the staff by @writingsoftheloser
You and Bucky go undercover to stop the sale of a very important device.
The Karen’s of the World by @espinosaurusrexex
Aunt Karen is possibly the worst person you know. So when her annual Independence Day party arrives, you try to give her as little reason to pick on you as possible. Not being single for once should cover most of the topics she complains about. So you ask your friend Bucky to play pretend.
Tis the damn season by @starrysebastians
On the first post-blip Thanksgiving, you find yourself having to reunite with your parents and your heart is not in it — Sam persuades you to take Bucky with you, and this might be an opportunity for you two to get to know each other.
SERIES
The Holiday Hack by @gogolucky13
You ask Bucky to be your stand-in boyfriend for your family’s Christmas party.
Breaking The Rules by @redgillan
You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.
Best Boyfriend You’ve Ever Had by @language-rxgers
When you find out your sister is getting married and expects you to bring a date to her wedding in two months, you panic, having not gone on so much as a coffee date with a guy in far too long. After all, being an Avenger doesn’t leave too much time for a life outside of work. So, when your best friend, none other than the James Buchanan Barnes himself, offers to pretend to be your boyfriend and plus one, how can you refuse? It seems like something that would come out of a movie. However, real life is never like the movies, and stories like this never go as planned.
Stepping Up by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend
When Steve can’t go with you to your cousin’s wedding, he sends Bucky in his place. What happens when more than one person assume you’re dating? 
Picture Perfect by @writingsoftheloser
When Steve asks his collegue to be his fake girlfriend, she accepts, thinking nothing could really go wrong. Then, she meets Steve’s best friend.
-> this is not bucky and reader fake dating but it’s one of my favorite fics so I included it!
Worst Idea Ever by @firefly-in-darkness
Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what's the worst that could happen?
Heart to a Gunfight by @lailannajacobs
You didn’t want to help Bucky Barnes make it through the party by pretending to be his fake girlfriend, after all, you had just met him. You also didn’t plan on the charade lasting as long as it did. 
am i more than you bargained for? by @morsmordre-writes
Bucky has an unwanted secret admirer, so naturally you pretend to be his girlfriend until it blows over. Will someone catch feelings? Will they be absolute idiots about it all? Will they live happily ever after? We may never know.
Almost Had Me Believing It by @tuiccim
An undercover operation playing Bucky Barnes' wife is a dream come true. Playing house in the suburbs while trying to take down a drug ring brings you and Bucky closer but a nosy neighbor causes trouble in paradise.
A Certain Romance by @wienerbarnes
With the threat of yet another bad date at the result of Sam Wilson’s meddling, Bucky’s desperate to find a solution. As are you, another victim to Sam’s failed matchmaking. The two of you come up with a genius plan: pretend to date each other in order to escape the poking and prying nose of the Falcon.
The Proposal by @toomanyrobins2
Y/N Arnaud is the liaison to the Avengers, but she’s also a French citizen. After a couple mistakes, her visa application is denied. Even though they can’t stand each other, Bucky offers to marry her in order to keep her visa status in the U.S. and avoid deportation.
Follow My Lead by @ciarawritesmarvel
You and your new friend Wanda are enjoying a day together at the Avengers Tower, her giving you a tour around the place when you both run into the infamous Bucky Barnes. Moments later, he’s introducing you to Sam as his girlfriend and placing a kiss on your temple and you’re not sure you’ve ever been so confused in your life.
Where Dreams Go To Die by @insomniumstella
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
buckyalpine · 1 year
Note
Hiiii Loveeeeeeee
I am in LOVE with the Untouched AU..
and i was wondering, would Bucky ever suggest maybe some anal play?
maybe he brings the idea up to you, and you think he’s talking about your ass and when he sees you get all panicked he’s just “no no no, bubs, i wanna play around with mine”
maybe start with a plug… move up to fingers… then maybe a strap? 👀👀
I’m gonna see myself out-
18+ 
AY SEE YOURSELF BACK IN RN. I only changed a little here and there, build his curiosity a bit after some play time with you first. We love our inexperienced babies trying new things together. Also I didn’t mean for this to get this filthy or long and I deeply apologize for what you’re about to see if you decide to read this. 
Warnings: anal play (f & m), M masturbation, use of toys, All the smut and fluff with switch!College!Bucky, as always I love him desperate, needy, feral and filthy all in one. His mouth is a warning cause I live for horny desperate Bucky’s dirty talking. 
-
“Let me prep you baby” Bucky grabbed the bottle of lube, squeezing some onto his fingers. You shuddered while he hummed, his eyes trailing up and down your naked body while you laid spread out for him. Bucky had looked like a puppy when he first brought it up, too shy to even get the worse out until you some got it out of him and what he wanted to try. 
He’d wanted this for a while. Whenever he was wrapped up in your wet warmth, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like if he filled you up there. How tight it would be, what it would feel like, how beautiful you’d sound for him.
You felt your body heat up like it was on fire; no one had ever touched you there, fuck you hadn’t touched yourself like that there either. Still, you couldn’t resist how badly you wanted it too and there was no one else you trusted more than him. 
You yelped at the feel of the cold gel, instinctively closing your legs while Bucky chuckled, his other hand soothingly rubbing your thigh, gently spreading your legs open again.
“It okay baby, open up for me” He rubbed gently circles on your tight ring of muscle while you felt your face heat up at the foreign sensation. “You feel okay?” 
“Keep going James Please?”  Your breath hitching in your throat feeling nervous. Bucky could feel you twitch against his finger, his cock jumping against his briefs. 
“M’gonna go slow, okay? Breathe for me baby” He slowly breeched your hole with his middle finger, stopping at the first knuckle to check on you. “Still okay doll?” You nodded, gasping when he pushed in a little further, pulling back slightly, the muscles in your body tensed. 
“Shhh, breathe, that’s it” He kept gently rubbing your thigh while he continued to gently push his finger in and out, “Relax for me sweetheart, doing so good for me baby, does it hurt?” 
“N-no, feels good” You whimpered, the strange feeling slowly melting into something pleasurable when he went a little deeper, slightly curling his finger “O-oh fuck” 
“Can I add another baby?” He continued to build up a comfortable rhythm till he felt your body relax, before he carefully slipped a second finger into you. You hissed at the slight discomfort which quickly went away with how gently he was being with you. 
“You’re so tight sweets, don’t know if I’ll fit in you” He breathed out, his own heart racing at the way you were wrapped around his middle and ring finger, your pretty little moans making his cock wet. He couldn’t help but moan himself at the way your hips squirmed on the bed, the way your back slightly arched off the bed, the way your jaw was slack. 
Angelic. 
“Buckyyy” You whined, your eyes dropping to where he cockhead nearly poked out of the waistband of his briefs, hard and desperate for relief. You clenched around his fingers, needing to be filled by him. 
“What is it angel” 
“I-I’m ready”
“Are you sure?”
You nodded, giving him grabby hands so you could slip his boxers off; it didn’t matter how many times you had seen him naked, he was always a sight to behold. He kneeled in front of you, having you sit up with him, pulling you into his lap for a moment. 
“I promise I’ll be gentle but we can stop any time if it hurts you doll” Bucky cupped your face to make sure your eyes were locked with his, he’d never do anything that hurt you. “Promise you’ll tell me if you want to stop?” 
“Promise bubba” You leaned up to kiss him before lying back down again while Bucky grabbed the lube again, spreading more on your ass before smearing it over the length of his cock. He gave it a few tugs before guiding you to on all fours, with your ass up and face against the mattress. The sight alone caused drops of precum to drip onto your skin. You bit your lip at the feeling of his blunt tip catch against your hole, rubbing the lube around more, his other hand resting on your hip. 
“Are you ready for me baby?” 
“Mhm” You wiggled your hips teasingly, both of your hearts beating erratically as he gripped his cock, pressing the head and starting to push inside. The second his tip breeched your hole, Bucky knew he was screwed, your sweet tightness nearly choking his cock and he wasn’t even fully in you yet. 
“Oh god” his head was thrown back, your body sucking his cock in, “your ass is so fucking tight, what the fuck-”
“Buckyy” Your voice was muffled, burying your face into the pillow, clutching onto the sheets, your body squirming at the unfamiliar sensation. 
“You okay sweets?” He stilled his movements, panting, his cock throbbing, desperate to spill into you. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to calm the way he was twitching but he had 0 control over how badly he wanted to-needed to- cum hard and deep inside you. “You want me to keep going?” You nodded, relaxing your body, slowly started to feel the stretch melt into pleasure.
“Breathe for me doll, relax for me” His eyes rolled back, hissing as he pulled back slowly before filling you up again. He set a slow pace, letting you get used to the stretch, his hands bruising your skin with how hard he was gripping you.
“You’re so so fucking right, I-holy fuckk” His voice dropped to a whimper, stroking up and down your spine, soothing the ache from his thick length. “You’re such a good girl for me baby, making me feel so good” His head was thrown back, jaw slack, how the hell did you feel so good. “Y/n…s’too sensitive, m‘ not gonna last baby” 
“Its-it-s okay, cum for me baby” You were too turned on to care, the way he sounded was enough to make you feel satisfied. Your entire body buzzed with anticipation, feeling every throb and twitch deep in your walls, pulling him back in each time he pulled back. 
“M’gonna fill this pretty ass with my cum baby, I can’t stop”  He moaned louder, both hands grabbing your ass. “I-fuck it’s so tight, squeezing the fuck out of my cock doll, m’gonna cum okay? Fuck I promise I'll make you cum after but I can’t hold it right now-shitshittt I’m cumming, m’fucking cumming” You could feel him his warm cum pump you full, while he grinded his hips so he was still deep inside you, grunting each time more cum spilled from the tip.
“Oh fuck” Bucky whimpered, his pink cock overly sensitive and throbbing against his tummy as he slumped over on your bed, his body drained. 
“You feel okay doll?” Bucky rolled you over, brushing the hair that clung to your face, kissing your forehead and checking to see if you were in pain. “Did s’good for me angel, does anything hurt?” 
“M’okay” You whispered, your body still felt like live wire between the slight soreness you felt and your throbbing clit. Bucky smirked at the way you clenching your thighs together, crawling down you body until he was face to face with your dripping cunt. He placed a sloppy messy kiss onto your clit, tossing your legs over his shoulders. 
“Time for me to take care of you babygirl” 
A few weeks later
Bucky blinked, his unable to take his eyes off the video he had clicked onto, not realizing he was stroking his cock faster, breaths getting heavier. He wasn’t exactly new to porn but this was certainly something new to him. He knew people were into this, but he didn’t realize he’d be into it. Until now. He watched the girl wrap the guys thighs around her waist while she filled him up with a strap on, pumping his ass while stroking his cock. Bucky didn’t even realize he was moaning, feet planting on the bed, thrusting into his hand, blowing his load all over his chest, reality sinking in after his post orgasmic haze cleared.
He wanted it. 
He needed it. 
Bucky bit his lip, wondering how he’d bring this up with you, he knew you wouldn’t judge him but it still felt a little risky to bring up. 
A few days later
“Sooo...”
“Spit it out Bucky, you’ve been hiding something all week” You playfully rolled your eyes while he let out the breath he was holding, sitting on the edge of your bed with you. 
“I um...I saw something I wanted to try”
“Just tell me baby”  
“Would you-would you want to try more anal play...with.me?” Bucky played with his fingers, his cheeks blushing furiously, “Like...you play with me?” 
Your stomach erupted into butterflies, your pussy already starting to drip, why would you not want to try something that would make him feel good. You tilted his chin to look at you, kissing his nose softly, making him blush more. 
“Is that all baby, you want me to play with you there?” You cooed, your thumb caressing his cheek while he shyly nodded. Bucky had always taken perfect care of you and you were more than excited to give him the same love, care and pleasure he craved so badly (you may or may not have already read up on how to please a guy there because curiosity had gotten the best of you while you were reading a spicy article) 
You pulled him to lie down on your pillows, helping him strip his clothes off until you were both bare, kissing down his body while he felt his breath hitch his in throat, his leaky cock making a mess. 
“Just relax for me baby” You whispered, taking his cock down your throat, licking up his precum before pulling off and running your tongue down his shaft to his balls. You moaned at his salty taste, rolling them against your tongue, smiling to yourself as he spread his legs further for you. 
“Tell me if this is okay” You whispered, kissing below his balls, licking and pressing your thumb in soft circles around the area making his body jolt at the sensation. You smiled to yourself, applying more pressure. 
“Fuck-f-fuckk” he could only contain his whines for so long, each time you licked and pressed against his perineum was too much, he needed you there. “Need you doll, need it” 
“Open up for me baby boy” You cooed, your stomach clenching over the way his eyes locked with yours as he spread his thighs apart for you. You squeezed the lube onto your fingers, gently spreading it around his tight hole, loving the way you could already feel him clenching against your fingertips.
“Want it doll” He whined again, his bottom lip red from how much he’d chewed it. 
Greedy baby. 
“Shh, I’m right here baby” You pushed your finger in slowly, stopping at the first knuckle, giving him some time to adjust before going further. “You okay James?” You carded your fingers through his hair, stroking his forehead while he whined, his greedy hole begging for more. 
“Feels good baby, more”
“More?” 
He nodded, holding his thighs apart for you, letting out the breath he was holding as you pushed your finger in further, a throatily groan slipping past his lips. 
“Oh fuckkkkk” He closed his eyes, relaxing his muscles so you could move faster, the feeling of your finger pushing in and out of him was unmatched. He moved his hand down to grasp onto his cock, squeezing the base so he wouldn’t cum too soon. “Can you-can you add another finger baby?”
“Are you sure Bucky?”
“Stretch me doll” He shuddered, desperate to feel full with your pretty fingers. You grabbed more lube before carefully inching inside him again, a deep satisfied groan dripping from his lips. 
“That’s-fuck that’s it, fuck it feels good” Bucky started to lazily stroke his cock, barely applying any pressure because he knew he would blow his load. You licked your lips at the beautiful sight before you, his legs spread apart for you while he played with himself, with pretty moans he couldn’t contain. You wanted more though. You wanted to give him pleasure where he wouldn’t have any self-control or restraint. 
“What if I-” You bit your lip, pushing your fingers deeper in him, crooking them slightly, pressing and stroking his prostate, and-
“OH FUCCKKKKKKK”
Oh he liked that.
“GOD FUCK” 
He liked that a lot.
“YES”
“YESYES”
“Y/N RIGHT THERE, DON’T-DON’T FUCKING STOP” 
You moaned at how sexy he looked, massaging his prostate, bending down to take his swollen cockhead in your mouth. Bucky grabbed onto the sheets, his legs shaking, he couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to, the second your silky tongue licked over his slit, he was done for. 
“IM CUMMNG FUCK” 
Your eyes grew wide, swallowing the ropes of cum that kept throbbing out of his cock. You kept working your fingers faster to ride him through his high, gently suckling his tip to catch every drop. 
“It’s-its soo sensitive-too sensitive-oh my god” Bucky was a babbling mess, whining when he felt empty again, his eyes still shut as he lay on the bed panting. You quickly cleaned your hands off, grabbing a damp cloth to wipe Bucky down as well, careful not to touch him anywhere where he’d be too sensitive. 
“Bubba come back to me, are you okay?” You kissed his sweaty forehead, giggling over the way his eyes took a moment to focus again, his vision hazy. “Hi baby” 
“Holy. shit” Bucky breathed out, his chest still heavying. “That was...shit” He chuckled, still reeling over the most intense orgasm he’d ever felt, it was almost an out of body experience and that was just from your fingers. 
That started it. The absolute craving Bucky had for more. 
You continued to use just your fingers with him, getting him used to the stretch, sometimes using two fingers and when he was very relaxed you’d even try three. Eventually you asked him if he was ready to try toys to which he immediately agreed too. All shyness disappeared the second the cool metal slipped into his tight hole; just when he thought fucking you couldn't feel better, this increased every sensation he felt but 100.  
His orgasm nearly lasted minutes. 
Bucky slept like a baby for the rest of the day, comfortably cuddled up in your arms. 
He loved your fingers and the toy was nice but he knew what he really needed. 
*****
“Are you sure about this Buck?” You tightened the straps of the strap on, the toy hanging heavy between your legs. Your pussy clenched over the way it was just about the same size as Bucky, your thighs a sticky mess just looking at the way he had his legs apart for you. You wanted to give him as much pleasure as possible but you also wanted to make sure it’d actually feel good and not hurt him. 
“Very baby” He shot you a wink; he found your concern adorable and it just made his cock harder “I trust you angel” 
Bucky reached over, grabbing the lube and spreading some onto his finger, rubbing it around his tight hole, and pushing his finger in with ease. 
“See? All ready for you sweets” 
You nearly whimpered at the sight of him touching himself like that, making a mental note to suggest mutual masturbation later. You spread lube all over the toy before spreading a bit more over him, your other hand stroking his thigh. 
“You ready?” You pressed the tip of the toy against him, locking your eyes with his. 
“I’m ready baby” Bucky lifted his legs slightly while you started to push the toy inside him, your eyes still connected with his. You both moaned together; nothing was more gorgeous than the way his head was thrown back against the pillows, his brows furrowed, a deep flush covering his skin. 
“Oh god Angel what are you doing to me, FUCK”  You could see goose bumps erupt over his skin, his nipples hardening, muscles pulled taut. You pushed the fake cock about half way in, pausing to let him used to the feeling, “You okay baby?” 
“Yes, st-stretch me” Bucky groaned, his cock jumping against his tummy as you continued to slowly sheath yourself inside him, “Don’t stop, keep going, I wanna feel you fuck my g-spot baby”
You braced yourself, slowly moving your hips until you found a comfortable rhythm, thrusting in and out of him, watching in awe at the way he opened up for you. 
“YEah-yeah like that, that’s it, good girl, fuck baby you’re stretching me s’good” The stretch was unlike anything else he had ever felt before, his ass pulling the toy right back in every time you pulled out. 
“You’re so tight Bucky” You could feel the way he gripped around you, making you have to use more force to fuck in, his greedy needy hole begging for you to go faster. 
“Yeah baby, you like stretching my t-tight hole huh? You like forcing my ass open for you? My pretty angel stretching my tight ass so good” 
You were both moaning messes, desperate for different reasons. 
“M’so wet, fuck Buckyyy” You whined, getting off at how much pleasure you were giving your boyfriend, every moan making your clit throb, your slick starting to cover your thighs. 
“Shit, you like that doll? you like making me feel good?” He smirked at how focused you were, rolling your hips perfectly, wanting to make him scream.  “Cause you’re doing perfect princess, see?” He took your hand, wrapping it around his aching length, giving it a few soft strokes before letting go and letting it slap against his tummy “So fuckin’ hard baby, swollen, it’s so god damn sensitive, I’ll blow without you touching me” 
You swiped your finger over his soaked tip, sucking off the precum that pooled onto his tummy making him shudder, his cock throbbing again. 
“Baby touch-touch my balls” He whined, nearly crying when you gave them a gentle squeeze, holding onto them as you continued to fuck him. 
“You like that baby?” You panted, giving his cock a few tugs before focusing back on thrusting into him as deeply as possible, You angled your hips, gripping onto his legs to brace yourself, fucking him harder, the tip of the cock hitting his prostate. 
Bucky hooked his hands under the back of his knees, spreading himself wider for you, his eyes squeezed shut, tears streaking down his face as you pounded him, your stomach flipping when he let out the most pornographic moan you’d ever heard. 
“Oh FUCK I can feel it in my balls” Bucky could feel his balls throb, pulled tight to his body, spurts of precum starting to dribble down the sides of his stomach, onto the sheets. “You’re gonna make me cum baby, gonna make me cum without even touching myself”
You could see the ripple and tensing of his muscles, his cock swelling as you fucked him hard, barely pulling out, keeping it deep inside him. 
“Babygirl, pound me, c’mon, I’m gonna make such a mess for you” He forced his eyes open, blown with lust and teary from how turned on he was, no one had ever made him feel this good. 
“Make a mess Bucky” You moaned with him, not tearing your eyes away from his. 
“F-fuck, s’good, it’s so good, I needed this, keep hitting my g-spot baby, pleaseplaseplease, push your cock deep in my ass baby, fuck I’m gonna bust” You could tell he was close, finding it hard to move, his body gripping onto you with a vice like grip, clenching and sucking the cock back in. “FUCK YES, Oh god m’gonna cum on your cock doll, c’mon fuck me fuck my ass till I cum” 
You slammed into him, ignoring the way your pussy was screaming to be filled, your jaw slack at the way his cock bounced. 
“I-I’M CUMMING, HNNG, HNNNGG FUCKKK” Thick ropes of cum burst from his sensitive head, covering his chest and abs without you even touching him, his own hands still holding his legs apart for you. “Don’t-don’t stop baby, fuck me till my balls and cock are empty, there’s so much cum, I can’t hold it” 
Bucky had been reduced to a babbling mess, his head lolling to the side, tears soaking the pillow, his chest heaving while he continued to cum, his abs covered in his cream. 
“Oh fuck why won’t it stop, fuck me slowly baby? Please? I want it, just-m’so sesntive, slow down a little” You cooed, gently thrusting into him, his length jumping each time you pushed in. You made sure you didn’t go deep this time, helping him through his high. “That’s perfect” Bucky panted, his eyes hazy as he gazed at you, his body limp while you hardly pushed in and out of him, your hand gently stroking his thighs while he cock slowly dripped. 
“Fucckkk baabyy, look how much m’cumming for you” His legs dropped to his sides while he closed his eyes, completely drained. You carefully pulled out of him when his orgasm came to a stop, helping him clean off with a warm cloth and cuddling him close to you while he rested. You kissed his forehead as he nuzzled into your chest, humming contently.  
“You’re so good doll, come here” Bucky shifted so he was on top of you, showering you with kisses. Your eyes grew wide as he spread you legs open, his cock already hard again, nudging against your pussy, 
“James-
“shhhh”
“Oh fuckkkkk” You moaned, as he pushed his cock into your sopping wet hole, grinning at how wet you were. 
“You didn’t think we were done, did you?” 
Tags: @glxwingrxse  @hungryyeyess  @sebsgirl71479  @beabutterfly987  @teambarnes72  @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass  @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan  @buggy14  @whimsyplaty92  @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec   @pono-pura-vida   @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z  @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog  @happyt0exist   @emmabarnes  @bethyruth @matchat3a  @cjand10   @getwellsoontana  @cherryschaos   @lokisasgardianvampirequeen  @ashenc-blog  @buckybarnessimpp   @potatothots  @goldylions  @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog  @kingfleury   @peaches1958   @spiderman-stilinski   @peaceinourtime82  @gublur   @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46   @lolawassad  @almosttoopizza   @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess   @buckycallsmeaslut    @kamaria-sweet-writes  @charmedbysarge    @xnorthstar3x  @kryoee7 @alina02  @gh0stgurl    @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club  @eralen   @perdidosbucky-yyo  @clqrosmgc
1K notes · View notes
venusjaynie · 10 months
Text
wish you were sober
Pairing: College!Frat!Bucky x Fem!reader
summary: you've had a crush on your roommate, Bucky, for a while, and after rescuing him from a party while he's drunk for what feels like the 1000th time, you finally admit your feelings.
Content Warning: friends with feelings situation, sexual tension, strong language, pet-names (angel, baby etc.), alcoholism, drunk bucky, parties, angst, fluff, mentions of puking (no actual puking)
word count: 2k
Tumblr media
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"C'mon, Angel, please come with us?" Bucky asks, tugging on your arm. You roll your eyes, yet a playful smile toys at your lips.
"I said no, Buck. If you wanna go, then go. No one's stopping you. But I'm not going. I don't wanna deal with a tequila drunk Bucky Barnes all night." You tell him, gently removing your hand from his grip. His face falls immediately.
"I promise I won't get drunk this time. I swear I-" He's cut of by a loud laugh from Sam.
"Bullshit! You know as well as I do that you won't last 10 minutes before you're wasted, Barnes." Sam says. You agree.
"See Bucky, even Sam agrees. I'm tired. I'm not going, and that's final." You tell him, defiantly. "And don't you have that biology exam tomorrow?"
"I already studied for that! If you don't wanna come that's fine, but I swear I won't get drunk." Bucky remarks, a pointed look on his face.
"Even if I'm not there?" You ask.
"Even if you aren't there." You eye him suspiciously, but believe him nonetheless.
"Have fun, call me if you need me, yeah?" Bucky nods in response. He looks deflated, but bids you goodbye with a kiss on the cheek which absolutely does not make you blush, despite Sam's insistence that it in fact, does.
------------------------------------------------------------
Turns out, you not going to the party was not final. After a few hours of you watching TV in the living room of you apartment, Bucky calls you, begging you to come and pick him up.
30 minutes and 3 rounds of shots, which you did not participate in, later, you're taking care of an extremely drunk Bucky. He smiling stupidly at you and is babbling about nonsense, while you try to coax him into the car.
"You'll never guess what Wanda said to Sharon-" He cuts off his own sentence with drunken laughter.
"Bucky- just get in- Jesus Christ, would you sit down and put the seatbelt on, please?" You say as you shove him into the car, being mindful of his head.
"And then-" He, again, interrupts himself with giggles. "And then Sam- he spilled an entire bottle of vodka right down Sharon's shirt! It was so fucking funny, babe. You shoulda- You shoulda been there!" He spirals off into another giggling fit as you finally get him into the car and he lets you buckle his seatbelt. You close the passenger door with a sigh and walk to your side of the car, sitting down and starting the vehicle.
The car ride is mainly silent, save for Bucky's occasional giggling or whining about something that gone down at the party. You stay silent, keeping your eyes on the road, and even in his drunken state, Bucky can tell he's fucked up.
He thinks for a moment, not wanting to anger you any further and make the situation worse.
"Angel?" He asks, somewhat quietly. You nod. "Are you mad at me?" He almost whispers.
You don't say anything.
"You're mad." It's a statement, yet he poses it as a question. He sounds so sad, you almost feel bad for him.
"And you're drunk." You say.
"What?! No I'm not!" He replies.
You sigh, before asking, "How much did you drink tonight?"
"Uh- I did, like, 3 rounds of, uh, tequila shots. I did the keg challenge- you know the one from Stranger Things-" You cut him off with an unimpressed look. He chuckles nervously, but continues. "That's irrelevant. I had, maybe, 2 cups of Jack and coke..." He trails off as you stop at a red light and turn to face him.
You sigh. "You promised, James." His eyes widen at the use of his first name, and he immediately knows he fucked up.
"I know I did. M'sorry. I just got carried away... again." He sends a resentful look in your direction. You turn away from him. The lights turn green and you continue the car ride to your house.
After a while, Bucky speaks up. "I-uh- I don't feel so good." He says, swallowing, hard.
"There's a bottle of water in the glove compartment. James, if you puke in my car I'm never speaking to you again. If you need me to pull over, tell me. We are not having another Fulton Street incident." You tell him, deadly serious. He takes the water from the glove compartment and sips it. Thankfully, he doesn't puke in the car, and you soon turn into the car parking area back on campus, which luckily, is close to the frat house you share with the boys and Nat.
Bucky gets out first, and stumbles and trips his way over to the path leading up to the house. Sighing, you do the same, minus the stumbling and falling, and make your way over to him. As you arrive at the front door of the house, you pull the key from your pocket, and the little keychain picture of you and Bucky clinks on the metal of the door handle as you open it.
Once inside the house, Bucky immediately goes to the kitchen. You take off your coat and shoes at the door, and follow him.
He's getting another beer from the fridge.
"Bucky, what the hell are you doing?" You whisper-shout.
"I'm getting a beer." He says, loudly.
"Lower your voice. Everyone else is sleeping." You say, almost irritated.
"Sorry, Angel." He giggles. He opens the beer and moves to take a swig of it, but you're faster than him in his drunken state and you manage to take the beer from him before he can consume anymore alcohol. "Hey!"
"You need to go to sleep, c'mon." You take his hand and practically drag him to his room, reminding him to keep quiet as you walk past the other bedrooms. When you reach Bucky's room, you go in to help him get ready, but he simply flops onto the bed and attempts to pull you with him.
"No, James, you need to get changed." He groans, but sits up anyway. You help him out of his clothes, and into a pair of plaid pyjama pants, but he refuses to wear a shirt.
"Alright, no shirt. Go brush your teeth. I'm gonna go back to my room, 'kay? Night, Bucky." You make a move to leave, but he grabs your hand before you can get very far.
"Don't go. Stay here tonight." He gives you his best puppy dog eyes, which he knows you can't say no to, and you roll your eyes, but sit down on the bed anyway. He grins cheekily before getting up to brush his teeth, not letting go of your hand and consequently dragging you in there with him. "There's a spare toothbrush in the cabinet." He mumbles, his toothbrush still in his mouth, and you reach over to grab the one he's talking about. As you're brushing your teeth, you catch Bucky's eye in the mirror. He's already looking at you, and before you look away he winks at you, grinning like the Cheshire cat. You can't help but laugh, and the faint tint of pink on your cheeks makes Bucky smirk and raise his eyebrows at you slightly. Even in his drunken state he notices those little things about you. He can't help it. He's infatuated by everything you do.
After brushing your teeth, you lightly pull at Bucky's arm to guide him to his bed, and he goes pliant at your touch. Before getting into bed, though, he goes to his wardrobe, albeit stumbling on his way, and pulls out one of his old jerseys for you.
"Here. You can't sleep in your clothes." You take it from him, thanking him, and you make a start to the bathroom until Bucky stops you. "Just change in here, angel. I think we've known each other long enough to get changed in the same room." He laughs as he says it, and you can't help but laugh too. You contemplate his offer for a moment, and then you remind yourself that he probably won't even remember this tomorrow morning, so you set the jersey on the bed and begin to undress yourself. You notice Bucky not-so-subtly watching you, so you clear your throat to get his attention.
"No peaking, pervy. Cover your eyes."
"Alright, alright. Don't get your panties in a twist." He uses his hands to cover his eyes, and you continue to get changed, and soon enough you notice that he's looking through the gaps in his fingers, but you don't bother to tell him you can see him, too tired to deal with that shit at 2am. You do your best to ignore his watchful eyes, but you can't, however, ignore the quiet intake of breath that comes from his direction when you take your shirt off, exposing your bra clad chest. Not wanting to encourage his ogling, you quickly slip the jersey over your head.
"Alright, you can look now." You tell him, and he removes his hands from his face and pulls back the covers of the bed, and you climb in beside him. You've slept in the same bed before, so being this close to Bucky shouldn't feel weird, but as you settle down in the bed and he shuffles closer to you, the feeling of his breath fanning on your neck, and the arm that's somehow circled your waist and pulled you into him all in the span of 10 seconds has you feeling slightly overwhelmed. You've had a crush on Bucky since you moved in with him and the others, which was a year ago. So being this close to him has turned the butterflies in your stomach that you feel when you're around him into a zoo enclosure of elephants and zebras and giraffes, and they're all chasing each other and causing your insides to flip around all over the place. It's fucking annoying. You're pulled out of your thoughts by Bucky's voice breaking the silence in the room.
"Thanks for tonight. Sorry you have to deal with this." His words are quiet, and you don't really know how to respond, because frankly, as much as you may complain about having to deal with Bucky when he's drunk, part of you doesn't mind taking care of him when he's like this.
"Don't worry about it. I'm your friend, it's kind've my job."
"Correction: you're my best friend." You giggle and he doesn't say anything else for a while, and you've closed your eyes, ready to sleep by the time he pipes up again.
"Angel? Can I tell you something?" You crack open one eye as he moves away from your back and turns you over by the hip in the process.
"Sure."
"I think you're really fucking pretty." He whispers it, and his face is inches from yours, and blood rushes to your cheeks while the elephants, zebras and giraffes in your stomach to backflips off the walls.
"You, uh, you shouldn't say shit like that when you're plastered."
"I know. But drunk words are sober thoughts. Isn't that what you told me that time I told Maddie I didn't like her when I was drunk and then she got all pissed at me and I blamed it on the alcohol?" You nodded at his question. "I really like you. Like, really."
"I really like you, too, but I don't wanna do this when you're drunk, so we'll talk about it in the morning, yeah?"
"Alright. Alcohol doesn't change how I feel about you, though." You smile at him, and he tilts his head up and kisses your forehead. "Night, babe."
"Goodnight, Bucky." You turn around again and his arm wraps around your waist as it did before, and he pulls you flush against him.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sound of Bucky's 8.30am alarm pulls you from your sleep. You slept well throughout the night, even though you ended up with a 6'2" hockey player lying half across you. When Bucky wakes up, though, he doesn't make a move to get off of you, and just makes his head more comfortable against your chest. You turn the lamp on beside his bed, and he groans, shutting his eyes even tighter and covering them with his arm, and you laugh at his actions.
"Don't laugh. I'm in pain." He says, dramatically.
"Oh, shut it. You're hung over. C'mon, lets get you some Tylenol and a coffee." He groans again as you try to sit up, and wraps both his arms around your waist to pull you back, and you're giggling at him again. "James, c'mon. It's 8.30. Your bio exam is in an hour and a half, and you need to be on campus in an hour to get signed in."
"Ugh, fine!" He rolls his eyes, but gets out of bed and goes to walk to the kitchen, and you stand up to follow him.
"Woah, don't get pissy with me. I'm not the one who thought it would be a good idea to get drunk the night before an exam."
"Shut up."
By the sounds of the conversation, it doesn't seem like Bucky remembers the confession he made last night, and you can't say you're surprised. The cuddling may have been an indicator that what he said was true, but the two of you have quite a touchy, almost flirtatious, friendship so it doesn't really confirm anything for you.
Bucky must notice that you seem lost in thought, and it's almost like he can read your mind.
"Hey, I remember what we talked about last night. We'll talk about it as soon as I get home, okay? Trust me, I wouldn't forget something like that." His words put you at ease slightly, and you nod, smiling. "And, for the record, I meant it. All of it."
You look up at him.
"Me too."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
this has been in my drafts for like 6 months ngl but anyways here you go <3
589 notes · View notes
Text
cruel to be kind - chapter one
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (90s college AU)
summary: it started with a dare. Bucky restlessly pursues Y/N, seeking just one date. as he chases her, he realizes she's different from she challenges him, so he starts to catch feelings. but it all falls apart when she learns about his initial motivations. based on 10 things I hate about you!
warnings: alcohol use, cursing
word count: 1.4k
series playlist
series masterlist
taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @ozwriterchick @notmeddy @drewsuncrustables @lokidokieokie @nats-whore @m4nulup1n @arcanebabe @tanyaspartak @jackiehollanderr @princezzjasmine @pono-pura-vida @mavrellover91 @helluvapimp @charmedbysarge @blackwood-bodecker-housewife (message me to be added)
Tumblr media
There were three bangs that came from the other side of the wall and a voice yelled, “KEEP IT DOWN. SOME OF US HAVE STUDYING TO DO.” 
The small group of college boys playing Nintendo 64 groaned and turned the music down a few notches. This was a usual occurrence for a Thursday night.
“She is such a bitch!” Zemo said.
“Come on, cut her some slack,” Bucky said.
“Since when are you defending her?” Sam asked.
“I’m just saying, if you guys were my neighbors, I’d be annoyed too.”
“Alright then Barnes if you like her so much-”
“I don’t even know her,” Bucky interrupted.
“I’ve got a proposition for you,” Zemo continued.
“What’s that?”
“Take her on a date.”
“No chance,” Bucky scoffed.
“I dare you.”
“I’m not ten years old. Daring me to do something isn’t gonna work.”
“Oh I see,” Sam added, “You know she won’t say yes.”
“That’s not it-”
“I didn’t think you were afraid of a challenge,” Zemo added.
“I’m not-”
“Sounds like you’re making a lot of excuses,” Sam said.
Bucky clenched his jaw in frustration, “Fine, fine. I will take her out on a date if it’ll get you two to shut up.”
As the other two went back to playing video games, Bucky started wracking his brain on how he was going to pull this off. Y/N was Zemo and Sam’s next door neighbor and she had a bit of a bad reputation on campus. She was the star player on the field hockey team and the only thing more lethal than her stick handling was her sarcasm. She didn’t put up with any bullshit, and people found that to be intimidating. But Bucky wasn’t intimidated, he just had to think through his first move.
Tumblr media
He sat on the bleachers watching as field hockey practice drew to a close. Once the final whistle sounded, he took a final puff of his cigarette, dropped it on the ground and crushed it under the heel of his leather boot. He sauntered over to the bench where Y/N was gulping down a cup of water.
“Hey there doll,” he said, capturing her attention, “How are you doing?”
She crushed the cup in her hand and said, “Sweating like a pig.” 
“Now there’s a way to get a guy’s attention,” he replied. She started packing up her things in a duffel bag.
“My mission in life. But I caught your attention, so you see it worked.”
She grabbed her things and started walking off the field as he followed. “Pick you up on Friday then?” he replied.
She rolled her eyes and said, “Oh right, Friday...uh-huh.”
“I'm serious," he added.
She stopped walking and turned toward him, “Do you even know my name?”
“I know a lot more than you think.”
“I highly doubt that,” she said, picking up her pace. He stood there watching her leave.
“Think about it!” he called.
She turned around just for a moment to flip him off with both hands and then continued off the field. He stood there shaking his head with a smile. He lit another cigarette and watched her leave, wondering what his next move would be.
Tumblr media
Bucky stumbled across Y/N rather unexpectedly a few days later. He spotted her in the window of the record shop, browsing through albums, and decided to wait out front to say hi. She walked out of the store with a few vinyls and stopped in her tracks when she saw him. 
“Hi,” he said, with a smile.
“What, are you stalking me now?”
“I was in the laundromat and I saw you in the window and thought I’d say hi.”
“Hi,” she said, walking away from him.
“You’re not much of a talker are you?”
“Can’t say that I am.”
Bucky took a few quick steps so that he was ahead of her and then came to a stop, blocking her path.
“You’re not afraid of me are you?” he said.
“Afraid of you? Why would I be afraid of you?”
“Most people are.”
“Okay well I’m not.”
“You may not be afraid of me, but I bet you’ve thought about me naked,” he said in his most sultry voice.
She stared at him for a moment, choosing her words very carefully. 
“Wow, am I that transparent?” she replied, sarcastically. With that she nudged him out of the way and continued on her path. She turned around and saw him standing there, watching her walk away. She stuck her tongue out at him and continued on her way. He lit a cigarette as he watched her trudge off in the opposite direction.
Tumblr media
Bucky wasn’t giving up on her that easily. It wasn’t because he wanted to win the dare, now his interest was piqued. He could always rely on his good looks to charm women, but this girl was different. His normal moves weren’t even scratching the surface. He would have to get creative. He deduced from the run in at the record store that she liked music. As luck would have it, a local girl band was playing a set at one of the bars nearby and Bucky thought there was a good chance he might run into her there.
He walked into the bar and he immediately stuck out like a sore thumb. The place was filled with women and Bucky stood about a foot taller than everyone. He immediately made his way to the bar where he caught up with one of the bartenders he knew.
“What are you doing here man?” he asked Bucky.
Bucky downed a shot of Jameson and said, “I have no idea.” The bartender poured him another drink when Bucky saw Y/N dancing in the crowd. He almost didn’t recognize her with such a big smile on her face. She was usually scowling at him, but tonight she let her hair down and was laughing and dancing with her friends. He watched her for the next few songs when she suddenly started weaving through the crowd toward the bar. Bucky brought his attention back to the bar where he took a big swig of his drink and then gazed back up to watch the band. He saw Y/N approach the corner of the bar but he kept his attention focused on the band, waiting for her to approach him. She ordered a round of drinks and then she spotted him. 
She slid over toward him and said, “If you’re planning on asking me out, you might as well get it over with.”
“Do you mind?” he said, glancing at her briefly before looking back at the band, “I’m trying to listen.”
“You’re not even going to offer to buy me a drink?”
Bucky signaled to the bartender and ordered them two tequila shots and smiled at Y/N. The bartender placed the shots in front of them and Bucky took the salt shaker and sprinkled a pinch of salt on the back of her hand before doing the same to his own. He wedged the lime slice between his fingers and he held up the shot glass to her. She clinked his glass and they licked the salt, downed the shot, and then sucked on the limes. 
“So what are you doing here?” she finally asked him. 
“I come here a lot.”
“Not sure if you noticed, but you are one of the few guys in this bar right now.”
“Maybe this is where I come to pick up women.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said.
He shrugged, “I needed a change of scenery.”
“Ah, did you get hustled at your regular pool hall? Can’t show your face there anymore?”
“Something like that,” he smirked at her. 
“Well as much as I’d love to hear that story, I have people waiting on me,” she said, grabbing the round she ordered. She collected the glasses and turned, walking back towards the dancefloor. But Bucky wasn’t finished yet. He brought his drink and followed in her footsteps.
“Come to a party with me tomorrow,” he leaned over her shoulder and spoke in her ear. She turned to look at him, rolled her eyes, and shook her head in disbelief.
“Was that a yes?” he added.
“No.”
“Was it a no?”
“...No.”
“Great, I’ll see you at 10:30.” Before she could protest, he disappeared in the crowd.
“That smug son of a bitch,” she muttered to herself, returning to her friends.
194 notes · View notes
hazywrites · 9 months
Text
Bucky I’m In Love With My Best Friend
Chapter 4
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You are hopelessly in love with your best friend, James Buchanan Barnes, and it's clear he feels something for you, too. So between stolen kisses and hookups, drunken calls and flirty banter, why can't you talk about it? What even is "it"?
Warnings: Light angst, an argument, all is resolved
Words: 5,090
Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48220744/chapters/121858312
Chapter 3
Chapter Notes: Hi, my loves! This chapter is a little longer than the last one, and a little angstier, though I always try to wrap things up on a happy note. Please let me know what you all think! I love you and thank you for reading!
Tumblr media
“Did you tell Bucky?” Were the first words to spill out of Nat’s mouth as she came rushing into your room. Wanda shot you a sympathetic look from where she was sat, cross-legged, at the end of your bed.
“No,” you replied with a resolved pout. “He didn’t text me all day. He doesn’t get to know. He can find out when he sees me next and wonder why he was left out of the loop.”
“Nice to know we’re being mature about this.” Wanda’s words were drowned out as Nat spoke over her.
“Let’s sign your cast.” You nodded towards your desk where a pencil case brimming with art supplies sat unzipped. An assortment of colored Sharpies overflowed from it. Nat went for classic black, tossing Wanda a red one. After they finished, Nat sat next to you, leaning in conspiratorially. “If you really want to make him jealous, get another guy to sign it first.”
“Another guy?” You blinked. “I don’t know any other guys. I mean, I do, but my guy friends are nerds; Bucky won’t be jealous of them.”
“Get Loki to do it,” Nat squealed delightedly. You couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows at her turpitude. Bucky was close with Thor but he absolutely despised his younger brother. But you couldn’t go that far. Bucky never talked to people you hated; you wanted to reciprocate that respect. He was your friend, first, after all. You were about to protest the idea when Wanda spoke up.
“And Erik downstairs. Bucky definitely noticed the way he eyes you up. He’s always calling the guy a cornball and looking for reasons to dislike him,” she added.
“Wanda!” You scolded, not at all surprised to hear Nat talking like this but very shocked indeed to hear it coming from your most rational friend. She simply grinned bashfully in response.
“He hasn’t texted you all day,” Wanda reminded you. “Nothing wrong with reminding him how steep the competition is out here.
“I wouldn’t want him to remind me how steep the competition is,” you argued. Nat waved her hand dismissively.
“But if he does it, he’s a douchebag because he knows you two would’ve been in a relationship already if it were up to you. He’s the one who ‘needs time’, so you can show him that if he doesn’t step up, another guy will!”
“Somehow, I don’t think Bucky is that insecure. He’d just say something like ‘if that’s what you want, then that’s that’ and never talk to me again.”
“Oh, I forgot you two love playing the emotionally mature game.” Nat wrinkled her nose in disapproval. “But if we go out tonight and you just happen to run into Erik and Loki before Bucky texts you, he’ll have no one to blame but himself.” You groaned in response.
“I just ate shit on the way home from class and spent the last three hours in an emergency room. I do not feel like going out tonight.”
“And is the alternative sitting in bed, eating peanut butter cups and complaining about how much your arm hurts and how Bucky hasn’t texted you back?” Wanda asked pointedly. You shot her a death glare.
“Maybe the peanut butter cups will keep him at bay. He is allergic,” you mused.
“Yeah, no, I’m sorry; I do not want to deal with pouty Y/N right now. Get dressed and put on your best sad, wounded puppy look,” Nat said. She eyed you for a second. “Yeah, just like that.” You groaned loudly in response, only growing louder as she stood up and made her way to your closet, flipping through your dresses.
You’d settled on a strapless emerald green mini dress and black boots, which Wanda helped you into as Nat did your hair and makeup. Since you couldn’t exactly put anything on over your sling, your jacket hung over your shoulders. You wanted to complain more, but the girls were right. You’d be in pain either way. Might as well distract yourself from it, both physically and emotionally.
You were heading downstairs when Nat slowed you all to a stop in the hallway.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Y/N?” She asked, louder than necessary. You hid your face behind your hand as you realized what she was doing. “Oh, Y/N, you poor thing. Wanda, will you help Y/N with her jacket?” Her speaking volume raised each time she said your name, making your face flush in humiliation, especially as the door to the apartment you’d stopped in front of slowly swung open, revealing a curious-looking Erik.
“Y/N? I thought I heard your name,” he said.
“A wonder how that came to be,” you mumbled under your breath. His eyes fell on your cast.
“What happened to you? Are you okay?” Concern laced his voice.
“I’m just clumsy,” you conceded with a tight smile. “I tripped reading on my way out of the library. Should’ve watched where I was going.”
“I’m glad you’re alright,” he said, his fingers ghosting your arm as he stared down at you intensely. “I thought someone hurt you; I’d have to teach them a lesson.” He gave you a crooked smile as he said it, gazing into your eyes. Out of the corner of your eyes, you spotted Nat’s triumphant grin, as Wanda had the decency to pretend to be reading a job posting stapled to the community corkboard. Jesus, Bucky was right, you couldn’t help but think. This guy really is a cornball. “Oh, hey, they signed your cast. Why don’t I add my name to it?”
“Luckily,” Nat interjected, “I happen to have brought some Sharpies. What color would you like?”
“How about gold?” Erik asked, flashing his bright, picture perfect smile. You watched Nat grow a little flustered as she handed him the marker. Of course he would pick gold, you thought to yourself. “Where are you guys headed?” Erik asked as he finished signing your cast, finally taking in your outfits. Nat’s eyes sparkled.
“We’re just—“
“Late, we are running late,” you interrupted, ushering her away with your good hand. “Nice seeing you Erik, see you around!” You called as Wanda held the door open for you all to step outside, leaving a confused Erik still standing in his doorway.
“If you don’t want him, I’ll take him,” Nat said into the evening air as the door shut behind you.
“Take away,” you sighed as you began walking to the bar where Wanda swore she’d seen Loki on Snap Map. “You know this is borderline stalking,” you reminded her.
“It is public information,” she clarified. “And we got to speak to my bachelor, so we’re doing Nat’s next!”
“It’s like the world’s shittiest game show,” you lamented. “All the douchebags and no cash prize.”
“The prize,” Wanda reminded you, “will be Bucky seeing how many men will happily take his place and be your shoulder to cry on if he ever pulls a disappearing act like he did today.” You couldn’t help but smirk at her overprotectiveness. You knew Bucky most likely got caught up in a game of pick-up basketball or was busy with schoolwork, but you couldn’t help the chip on your shoulder that you’d broken your arm and he wasn’t around to help you. So much for best friends, you thought bitterly.
You spotted Loki almost immediately after entering the bar. He was leaning against a pool table, laughing at something his friends were saying when he caught your eye. You turned to notice that Nat and Wanda had already made themselves scarce, heading to the bar to get you drinks.
“Y/N,” Loki greeted as he strutted towards you, his eyes flitting down briefly to take in the sling. “Don’t you look worse for wear.”
“Gee, thanks, Loki,” you rolled your eyes. He laughed.
“You look beautiful as ever, darling, I was merely referring to the little nylon accessory you’re currently sporting.” You sighed.
“I may be beauty but I am not grace. I tripped coming out of the library.” Unlike Erik’s concerned reaction, Loki merely tilted his head back in a roaring laugh, a sound that irritated you to your core like proverbial nails on a chalkboard.
“Perhaps not grace, but the phrase ‘beauty and brains’ does come to mind,” he conceded. He gestured towards the pool table. “I’d offer for you to join me but it seems you are out of commission for the time being.”
“I’ll watch,” you said, resignedly, leaning on a nearby pool table. You watched him play for a minute before Nat and Wanda returned, Malibu bay breeze in hand. You smiled gratefully as you sipped the drink down. Loki greeted them both in turn as he made his shot before finally looking up from his game and leaning on the table next to you. For a moment neither of you said anything.
“So,” he finally spoke. “No Buckley today?”
“Bucky,” you corrected him, his answering shrug confirming your suspicion that he already knew your best friend’s name. “And no. We haven’t spoken today.” Loki hummed in response, his expression calculating as he took in the defeated slump of your shoulders.
“Despite your recent injury,” he noted.
“I mean, I didn’t exactly text him about it,” you admitted.
“You’re still upset. Why is that, if you haven’t even given him a chance to show up for you?”
“Because,” you sighed. “I shouldn’t have to. He doesn’t ask me to show up for him, I just do it. A little reciprocity would be nice.” He hummed in response.
“You know, Y/N, not everyone shows their affection the same way you do. Just because Bucky doesn’t speak your love language, doesn’t mean he isn’t speaking his own.”
“He doesn’t speak any love language,” you scoffed. Loki’s index finger and thumb touched your chin, just for a moment, as he tilted your face up to look into his eyes. His fingers were off you just as quickly as he chose his next words.
“Listen, love. You know I think I could make you much happier than that joker ever could.” You opened your mouth to protest, but he shot you a silencing look before continuing. “And I know that there is no room in your heart for anyone besides him. But ask yourself. When is the last time he spoke to someone for this long? His reputation precedes him, you know. But with you, it’s different. You’re not a fling. Maybe he’s taking his time with you because he thinks you’re worth taking things slowly with. And maybe each time he distances himself, he’s trying to stop this from burning out too soon because he’s decided he wants you around for a long time.” You stared at him in stunned silence for a moment as he stood up and stretched, cue stick in hand. “I mean, what do I know? The guy’s an idiot. If you were my girl, I’d show you off to the entire city. And take you on a date that isn’t sneaking into AMC to see The Batman for free for the tenth time.” He shot you a smirk. “Though I suspect you enjoy that. So how about you hand me a Sharpie and I can sign that cast of yours to make him jealous, and you can head over to his apartment?”
“How did you know?” You laughed.
“Your two best friends and Erik Killmonger? Please, darling. Discreet is not your strong suit. Seeing as gold has been taken, why don’t you hand me the green one to match that pretty little dress of yours?”
The walk back to Bucky’s apartment was contemplative for you. You ran into Peter and MJ coming out of a restaurant with Tony and Pepper along the way, so you were grateful for a few more signatures from your friends to hide your stupid, embarrassing scheme. Wanda and Nat finally left you at the door to the brownstone Bucky and his roommates shared. With your good hand, you knocked shakily. It was Steve who answered.
“Y/N? What happened to you?” He asked as he took in your arm.
“Being clumsy, as usual,” you replied, peeking past him. “Is Bucky home?”
“Yeah, he’s in his room, come on in,” he said, stepping aside to let you in first before closing the door behind you. You greeted Thor and Sam playing 2K on the living room floor, brushing off their concern. Before you could make it to Bucky’s room, he came out. His hair was wet from a shower and he was wearing plaid pajama pants and the Christmas t-shirt he always wore to bed. His already plump pink lips were settled in a confused pout.
“Y/N?” He asked, his eyes dancing over your frame before making their way back to your face.
“Hey, Buck.”
“You tried to breathe and walk at the same time again?” He asked teasingly. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, though.
“Oh, this? I fell off a cellphone tower. I thought perhaps I wasn’t getting any bars since you haven’t texted me all day.” You shot back. It was semi-playful but laced with something else.
“Phone works both ways,” he reminded you in his smart-ass tone. Oh, he was upset. But why? You wondered. He hadn’t even seen the signatures yet. “I’ve been waiting for a text from you,” he confessed, opening the door to his bedroom and leaning back against it as you walked in. He joined you in sitting at the edge of his bed and brushed your jacket off your shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me as soon as it happened?” He asked as he touched your arm gently, inspecting the injury. His eyebrows shot up as he read the signatures and you felt your face flush. “Looks like you’ve been in good hands, at least.” It was hard to miss the iciness in his tone.
“Not like you care,” you grumbled. A look flashed across his face that you couldn’t mistake for anything but anger.
“I don’t care?” He asked disbelievingly.
“I didn’t mean that, I…” you trailed off unsurely.
“So what did you mean, Y/N? Besides putting words in my mouth?”
“I don’t know, I… You didn’t text me all day.”
“Yeah, because I was busy with shit. And you didn’t text me either. But you had time to have half of New York sign your cast,” he scoffed. Shit. This was a bad idea, jealousy was such a negative emotion. Why did you let Nat and Wanda talk you into this?
“Half of New York would’ve signed my cast whether you showed up for me or not, Bucky,” you cried. “I have friends, you know. I don’t just sit around waiting for you all day.” Such a lie. Yes, you did.
“I never said you did,” Bucky raised his voice to match yours. “Where is this coming from?”
“I just,” you sighed. “I just want you to show up for me.”
“All this because I didn’t text you for one day? The phone works both ways, Y/N.”
“No, not just today. I mean. Like, you ice me out. We spend the night together and you get all cold and distant after. We’re friends and then we’re more than friends but it’s always on your terms. Anytime we get too close, you push me away again.” You felt tears welling up in your eyes as you spoke despite how much you willed yourself not to cry.
“I need time, Y/N, I told you this,” he replied. His tone was even but his eyebrows were knotted together in frustration.
“Yeah, I know, but what about what I need? Reassurance. Affection. I’m not a sex doll, you know.”
“I never said you are.”
“I know you didn’t. But I feel like one. You hate when I say we’re just friends but the only time you’re intimate with me outside of that is sex.”
“So you don’t want to have sex anymore,” he concluded, the corners of his pouty lips twitching into a frown.
“No, Bucky, I want to have sex but I want more than that, don’t you get it?”
“And I’m telling you I need time. Y/N, please. I would’ve showed up for you today if you asked. I would’ve taken you to the E.R. I would’ve signed your cast first. If you texted me.”
“I…” you started, cutting yourself off with a sigh after a moment. “I know. I don’t know what I was trying to prove,” you admitted quietly.
“C’mere. Let me get you out of that dress. Which shirt do you want to wear?” He asked.
“That one,” you nodded towards the one he was wearing.
“Of course. Couldn’t make it easy for me,” he shook his head with a slight smile and pulled the shirt over his head in one swift motion. You couldn’t help but blush at the sight of his naked torso and look away even though it was nothing you hadn’t seen before. His motions were gentle and slow, his eyebrows pulled together in concentration as he helped you dress. Soon you were laid up in nothing but his Christmas tee and your panties, and Bucky remained shirtless in his pajama pants at your side.
“Where is it?” He finally asked.
“Where is what?” You replied in question, confusion lacing your tone. He quirked an eyebrow at you.
“My Sharpie,” he answered. You felt your face flush as he shot you a triumphant smirk.
“It’s in my jacket pocket,” you admitted. He fished it out, signing the available spot on your hand in bright orange. His favorite color. The signature was unnecessarily big, and he finished with a heart. You shot him a smile and he rolled his eyes at you.
“Don’t make a big deal out of it before I turn it into a butt,” he warned. You giggled and nodded your agreement, your mind racing with things to say but none of them seeming like enough.
“Goodnight, Bucky,” you breathed into the dark room after a while.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” his sleepy voice mumbled in reply. His soft snores filled the room only moments after.
122 notes · View notes
sunshine-on-my-mind · 6 months
Note
Hey, sweet Meera.
How about some Bucky
Tumblr media
And snacks (this is a Baklava Cronut, but any pastry will do)
Tumblr media
Kisses
a/n: can i be cringy and say i don’t know which one is yummier? ahahha no sorry but omg i love this. it inspired me to write this AU hehe i really hope you like it.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
James Bucky Barnes, spoilt and rich, son of CEO George Barnes, has everything. He is living his best life from on frat party to another from one girl to another, the famous playboy loved his life.
Until one day, few months before his graduation, his father called him in his office.
“You’ve had your fun, now it’s time to get serious” Bucky rolled his eyes
“Dad, I’m not joining your company” the senior Barnes laughed at that
“oh son, you really think you’re fit for my company? you are a spoilt little brat, living his life on his old man’s money. it’s time to change that.”
This made Bucky curious
“Go get yourself a job, any job, I don’t care, but if you can’t get yourself a job by the end of the month, then you’re out.”
“Out? what do you mean out?”
“Out of my will, out of your penthouse that I bought for you, well… everything actually.”
And that his Bucky Barnes found himself working in this coffee shop. He hates it I mean how do people even do this? And the customers are the worst, but he can’t complain or else he will be fired.
“This sucks” he mutters under his breath as he was making ‘oat caramel macchiato with mocha drizzle’ or whatever the shit the customer has ordered.
“Here’s your coffee” Bucky gives a fake smile to the customer, ugh they are lucky to receive even a fake smile from him.
Evening rolled in, it’s almost time for Bucky’s shift to end, finally. He’s cleaning up the counter, muttering curses under his breath when the cafe door opens again.
“Fucks sake wh-“ his rant stops in between when he sees you across the counter. Your eyes focused on the pastries displayed. And his eyes focused on you.
You look up at him and he looks away, he doesn’t want to get caught staring like some creep. Bucky clears his throat and you smile at him. How can someone else’s smile make him feel happy? He asks himself.
“Hi, um, can you help me with selecting a pastry? They all look so good I’m confused.” You ask him with that pretty smile of yours
Now if it was any other customer he probably would have rolled his eyes and said whatever came to his mind but in this case, he does want to talk to you.
“Well I’m a basic guy myself, quite love the brownies and cinnamon rolls, the apple pie too, but um, we started doing these Baklava Cronuts recently and they are quite popular so you can try one.” Bucky says with a smile, a genuine smile, after a while, gosh he doesn’t remember the last time he actually couldn’t stop smiling, he feels shy.
“One Baklava Cronut it is then” you give him your order “and can I please get an iced coffee as well?”
Bucky feels like saying ‘I’ll give you all the pastries and coffees if I could’- a smile plastered on his face.
You take a seat and wait for your order, Bucky told you he’d bring it over.
As Bucky starts making your coffee he cannot help but steal glances at you, you’re sitting there by the window, the evening sun casting a beautiful glow on your face. This is something Bucky would have scoffed at in another situation because he doesn’t really understand love, but there you are and he cannot stop staring.
It’s not that Bucky has not dated beautiful women before, some were models, literally but there is something about you which is giving him butterflies and he is not yet sure if he likes it.
“Here you go” Bucky smiles and places your order in front of you on the table.
“Tha- oh uh, I didn’t order the brownie.”
“It’s on the house.” The smooth Bucky who has flirted with many many women is gone, and remaining is a shy bucky who cannot stop smiling.
“oh,” and that’s when you bite your lip and Bucky feels his eyes are glued to your lips.
“Thank you…” You trail off to find his name tag. “Bucky”
The moment you say his name Bucky is gone. He wants to hear you say his name, again, and again. Has his name ever sounded so good?
“I’m- I don’t know if this is too forward but um, would you like to go out with me sometime?” Bucky is flustered while trying to ask you out. He looks at you with his pretty blue eyes and you felt like you’re melting into a puddle.
“Yeah, I’ll like that.” You smile.
Bucky feels like jumping in happiness. But tries to play it cool, you know scratch that he doesn’t want to be cool he wants to be happy and shy and spend time with you, get to know you.
He gives you his number and asks you to text him when you’re free.
After you leave the coffee shop that day, Bucky feels keeps checking his phone, excited, nervous, anxious, and after finishing his shift when he is going back home, when he feels like he is losing his mind, his phone chimes
you: hey, i’m free this friday if you’d like to meet x
Bucky smiles, almost giggles. Quickly types back.
Bucky: Sounds perfect. Can’t wait to meet you again.
Maybe working at the coffee shop isn’t that bad. He smiles to himself and drives back home, counting days till Friday.
46 notes · View notes
uselesssomebody · 1 year
Text
friends with benefits (bucky barnes x fem!reader college au)
𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲
in which the reader gets with bucky barnes, resident fuckboy on campus, in an attempt to help her best friend’s love life.
Tumblr media
𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠
❁ y/n
Tumblr media
❁ james 'bucky' barnes
Tumblr media
𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠
❁ natasha romanoff
❁ steve rogers
❁ sam wilson
❁ peter parker
❁ m.j. watson
and more!
Tumblr media
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬
❁ follows the theme half enemies to lovers, cuz bucky’s a big fan of the reader, but not vice versa. it can also be argued that bucky’s a bit inherently misogynistic, but it’s not expanded on or a purposeful theme at all. if that makes you uncomfortable, maybe check out something else on the blog.
❁ set in an alternate universe from the mcu, a college setting, though subtle references to the movies and characters will be there throughout. all characters are above 18, obviously.
❁ shitload of smut!! like every other chapter (and sometimes every chapter) will be smut so if you are under 18, this story is not for you and you can, once again, find something else on the blog.
❁ as of 14.12.22, this series is incomplete
❁ p.m./comment to be added to a taglist.
❁ enjoy!
Tumblr media
𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
spotify
youtube
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬
↳ i: the prologue - ♞
in which the reader hates those guys
↳ I: lonely nights - ♞
in which the reader has to change her tune with barnes
↳ II: mission - matchmakers - ♞
in which the reader meets a familiar face at brunch
↳ III: pretend - ♞
in which the reader and nat go to steve and bucky's party
↳ IV: slow down - ♞/♝
in which the reader has fucking great sex with bucky barnes
177 notes · View notes
mediocre-daydreams · 2 years
Note
HI 🫶🏻🫶🏻 it’s the mind reader anon !! can i please request for “I’m not as good as you think I am.” X “Maybe, but you’re everything to me.” OR “nobody needs me,” x “i need you.” with bucky barnes?
YEAH SURE USING AN EMOJI DIDNT COME TO MIND BUT im gonna use this from now on 🐙
— 🐙
I HAD 3 CUPS OF STRAIGHT BLACK COFFEE AND WROTE THE WEIRDEST THING I'VE EVER... EVERED. HERE IT IS!! I'M SO SCARED OF MY OWN BRAIN RIGHT NOW!! I LOVE YOU!!
Tumblr media
the eggs benedict to your mass production
college! himbo!bucky x tutor! cynical!reader (and both of them are stupid) notes: absolute crack, it's all just infatuated bucky going from himbo to educated, emotionally mature feminist king like every other word, mutual pining, swearing, a shit ton of dialogue but it's good fucking dialogue, dramatic bucky, you're stupid, he's kind of stupid but like no, just read it and find out i swear it's worth it
w/c: 2k .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. “you’re really good at this, you know,” bucky whispered, his peppermint breath caressing your face. he was tucked into your side, one elbow on the table, one arm around your chair—sure, maybe it was a bit too close to be professional, but neither of you was complaining.
“thanks,” you murmured, not bothering to glance up and meet his eye, partially because you were concentrated on the work in front of you, and partially because you knew you’d get flustered and expose your big, fat crush on the boy who’d, for some reason, was taken by you.
well, not “taken,” exactly. he wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, though both of you wished that could be true; both of you also did not realize your feelings were reciprocated. in more specific terms, he was taken, as in ‘awed by,’ your determination.
whether that be your raised hand, steady and confident in class, or the quick wit that you weren’t afraid to weaponize against anybody who dared challenge you, or even the determination you’d initially had to avoid him.
bucky knew he wasn’t exactly in your league, so to speak. your social circles might as well be different planets, but he figured you were an actual planet and he was your moon, circling around you, forever and ever trapped in your gravitational orbit. (at least, that’s the comparison he would make if he was passing physics.)
and that’s how you’d met him. you had lingered after class was dismissed to finish writing down the last of your notes, while bucky had hung back because the teacher needed to talk to him about his grades. to bucky’s delight, the refreshingly disinterested girl who would’ve never given him a second glance without necessity was the tutor that your teacher had recommended.
call him a masochist, but he loved that you treated him with just as much disdain as you treated the rest of his friends. it was… an unpopular opinion. att least, his friends—consisting of three-quarters of alpha delta theta and a little less than half the school’s men’s lacrosse team—certainly thought so.
bucky shifted in his seat, sending another wave of his cologne your way. you tried not to show how much he was affecting you, but you broke immediately when the arm he’d been resting on the back of your chair had finally snaked itself over until his fingers had settled on your shoulders. he began massaging small, slow circles into your skin, and you thought you might melt and mold yourself into the chair.
“okay, i- i think this is pretty good.” you scooted your chair away from him just an inch with reluctance; he smelled wonderful and had a warm presence and was so, so lovely… however, you were here to help him with physics, not get seduced. (though you’d obviously prefer the latter.)
a momentary flash of disappointment—or was that hurt?—crossed his face before it settled into its usual expression; in other words, he was gorgeous and he knew it.
“it’s not pretty good,” bucky took the paper from your hands with his eyebrows pinched in concentration. your stomach sank. “it’s amazing, doll. how are you- fuck, why do are you so beautiful and so, so smart? you’re killing me, here.”
you begged to differ. you were the one on the verge of combustion.
you pursed your lips to hide the embarrassingly exposing beam that threatened to escape and reveal your hopeless affinity for a man who was obviously out of your league. you wanted to hate bucky, you really, really did, but it made sense why he was able to pull whichever strings he wanted to. he was charismatic, confident, and had a way of leaving people in a dreamy, delirious daze that made them vulnerable to whatever kind of intention bucky had. he’d passed numerous classes that he had decidedly failed, slept with too many people to count—his pool was endless; male and female both—and had somehow managed to talk himself out of a suspension after he’d managed to break a window. 
so was it wrong to be wary of his advances? as far as you knew, he was still “talking” to your roommate’s ex-boyfriend’s lab partner (though it seemed as if not many words were being exchanged in their ‘conversations’) and supposedly was hooking up with the quarterback. 
but those could be rumors, your inner naive schoolgirl with a crush said. rumors have an element of truth to them, your rational side said. you interact with less than half the number of people he’s friends with, your cynical side said, and he’s only talking to you so he can go back to his theta kappa beta alpha friends and make fun of you. 
“bucky, i appreciate the… compliments, i really do. and i mean this with, uh, kindness, but don’t you think it’s a little… immature? manipulative? i don’t know, i just-”
this time, the crestfallen look on bucky’s face lingered, and it was most definitely one of hurt. “manipulative? sweetheart, i’d never manipulate you into anything, oh god no! i don’t und-”
“well, you’re always making fun of me so you can get some reaction out of me, and i don’t understand the appeal of trying to- to fluster somebody for entertainment, and maybe it makes this whole ‘tutoring session’ more interesting for you, but damn it, that’s not fair to me!” you snapped, eyes narrowed with malice.
you expected bucky to reciprocate. to hiss at you, or deny it, or make some vaguely misogynistic comment, but he just sat there, like a kicked puppy that had also been caught in the rain. he licked his lips enticingly and his eyes flickered down to… your lips? was that it? 
the gall of him, to continue to mock you even after you’d confronted him.
bucky laughed bitterly, shaking his head. his knee was bouncing and it was giving you secondhand anxiety. “i can’t- ha, i can’t believe you’d think that’s what- have i not been obvious enough? i don’t understand why- why you don’t understand. i like you, a lot, actually. i have since the first week of physics when you told the professor he was wrong and then pulled out evidence. 
“why would you think that i’m…” he looked at you incredulously, “making fun of you? if anything, you’re the one who’s teasing me! i’ve been trying to, well, yeah, i’ve been trying to get a reaction out of you so i can see if you feel the same way!
“and you always seem to do this little routine, where i’ll try and ask you out or- or tell you that you look pretty, or ask you questions about yourself and you do this fucking scrunch,” he pointed to his face, “on your nose, and it kills me. and it kills me that you always scoff at me like i’m nothing but you’re like… the whole world, or something. you’re like, the bonnie to my clyde.”
you bit your lip to keep yourself from smiling, not wanting to spoil his rant. “bonnie and clyde were serial killers,” you whispered amusedly. bucky looked at you, took a mental note, and continued without correcting himself.
“you’re the… apple to my eye. the chicken to my egg. and the… alpha theta to my kappa beta. and i think you’re incredible, i really do, but you won’t even give me the time of day. so yeah, i don’t understand why you think i’m the one manipulating you.
“there’s obviously a social power dynamic here,” bucky added, waving his hands around like that would help make his point clearer. “you’re cool and smart and people love you, and i’m like, a piece of shit, kinda. so i guess it makes sense why you don’t like me.
 but that’s beside the point. you have the dominant position in this relationship because you’re the one tutoring me; therefore, my performance relies on your decisions. you wield the power of controlling my gpa or whatnot. and did i mention that you’re smart and pretty? so basically, you’re just better than me which means in society, aka the individual social bubble that is every academic institution, you have more, um, influence than i do. you’re like, the prefect, and i’m the dude you report for breaking curfew. or you’re like, the ta, and i’m the guy whose essay you rip apart.
‘cause you’re like, shit, you’re so wow. and i’m so, wow,” he said the second bit with exaggerated sarcasm and a dramatic eye roll. “and i learned about all this in women’s studies, so if you think i’m pulling this out of my ass, go talk to bell hooks and simone de beauvoir, alright? i’m not, like, trying to manipulate you into a date or anything—not that i’d complain about getting a date, or like, just a shot, and i mean shot as in chance, not as in alcohol—i just really like you. like, like-like you.”
bucky took a deep, shuddering breath after his profession of infatuation. you gaped, probably comparable to a fish, at the frat-adjacent, notorious fuckboy, and delectable specimen of a man in front of you who also took women’s studies and also seemed to genuinely want to take you out on a date—though you weren’t particularly sure about the second one since his explanation was very long and not very easy to follow—that you’d severely misjudged.
“i-” you sputtered, for once, out of wit. “that’s so… nice.” you fiddled with the paper that the two of you had been working on. you could hear the sound of bucky’s heart shattering from where you sat. 
you hung your head in your hands, bewildered. “okay, you said you didn’t understand what i said but now i’m not understanding what you said because you’re saying i’m all… admired and intellectual and alluring and, powerful, even, but i- i’m not. bucky, i’m literally sitting in the library tutoring you on a subject i suck at because i have no other weekend plans and because i’ve been bullshitting my way through this class and the professor just so happened to eat it up.
“i don’t know what i’m doing either, bucky. i’m not- i’m not as good as you think i am. i’m… if we’re going back to that stupid chicken-egg analogy, you’re like a crowing morning rooster and i’m an egg produced by a capitalist’s hellish factory farm that’s dropped on the ground and will probably grow mold before someone cleans it up.” you paused. “oh wow, that was a way worse metaphor than yours, wasn’t it?”
bucky shook his head, a brilliant, dopey smile slowly growing on his face. “no. no, that was… so beautiful. you’re so smart,” he insisted, and it seemed like he genuinely believed it. “you think you’re some- some rotten egg, but to me, you’re an eggs benedict that’s been approved by gordon ramsey. you keep saying all these self-deprecating things and y’know, my therapist says that’s really bad for your subconscious perception of yourself and your value, and i know i just said that you’re smart but you’re actually being so stupid right now. because i think you’re really awesome. so…”
bucky swung his legs under his seat, which was really awkward because his legs were already so long that his knees were brushing the top of the table, so it looked more like he was trying to kick the table apart.
“can i kiss you?” bucky breathed, eyes scanning your face with pure adoration.
“absolutely not,” you grimaced, planting your hand on his face and pushing it away. “don’t push it. but… how does dinner at 7 tonight sound? not the cafeteria shit, i’ll take you somewhere nice. and don’t get it twisted, i’m asking you out, okay?” 
bucky nodded eagerly, going from kicked, wet puppy to newly-adopted, instagram account worthy puppy. “i- wow, thank you! wow. i’m so- yes, i will be there. should i get flowers or are you going to do the flowers thing? because i really like you a lot and i don’t want to mess this up and-”
“i’ll do the flowers. and the picking you up. and if you’re a good boy, maybe you’ll get a kiss at the end of the night. does that sound okay?”
it sounded more than okay to bucky.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
bucky barnes masterlist | main masterlist
taglist: (comment to be added!)
@bambamwolf87 @yourallihave @im-a-slut-for-fluff
307 notes · View notes
thesugarclubs-blog · 11 months
Text
Show You Love - AU Bucky Barnes x OC
warnings: college au, friends to lovers, soft smut, 18+
word count: 10.6k
WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1341247702-show-you-love-p%C3%ADa
poem author credits: a poem from Hellium by Rudy Francisco, a poem from milk and honey by Rupi Kupur, excerpt from the poem Butterfly by MHN
Tumblr media
Masterlist
“Gwen, you have five minutes before I’m out the door!” Pía’s voice boomed along their apartment as she flitted across the kitchen getting their coffees ready before they headed out for the day. 
“Hold ooon! I don’t know what your rush is anyway!” Her raspy voice yelled back from her room. 
Pía rolled her eyes and laughed, setting their cups next to her backpack on the counter before heading to the door to slip on her boots. Brooklyn was already feeling the nearing summer heat but the very Sun would have to come down and melt her Docs off her feet before she decided to wear anything else. 
As she stood and fixed her long waves in their doorway mirror she saw along with her reflection when Gwen made her way around the table both hands combing through her bangs relentlessly. 
“Gwennifer, Sam already likes you, leave those poor bangs alone.” 
“Hey, that’s not my name and Sam's getting on that train too so stop it. Also, I am not zhuzhing them for him but do they look ok though?” She smiled awkwardly as she let her hands fall to her sides. 
“They look great, as per usual. Can we go now?” 
She grabbed her bag and coffee before turning to open the door, Gwen following suit. 
“We’re fine for time P and I should make you late considering that you won’t let me read your stuff.” 
Pía let out a sigh as she pulled the door open, “I’ll let you read it later, Gwen just-” The sound of something sliding across the rough tiled floor stopped her. Her gaze followed and as Gwen peered over her shoulder they both turned, looking at each other in confusion. 
A small box lay on the floor having tumbled into their room when the door opened. They shrugged at each other in surprise before Gwen reached down and retrieved it. 
“It’s for you P, it’s got your name on it. They even got the little accent too. Cute.”
Pía took the box from Gwen and, sure enough, there was a note on top written in neat, slightly slanted cursive.
 Pretty Pía, thought you could use a pick me up. 
There was no mention of who it was from other than a lop-sided smiley face.
"Uhhhh who’s that from, P? Do you have a secret lover or something?" Gwen giggled. She had leaned over Pía's shoulder to read the mysterious message as well.
"Not that I know of," Pía answered, lost in thought while she tried to think of who could have sent her the box. Her thumb traced along the outlines of the little smiley face, admiring its perfect imperfection. It had two small lines as eyes instead of the regular dots you would use when drawing a smiley face. Right underneath the eyes, she could see a diagonal line that represented the mouth. But also not a classic mouth-line, no this smile was different.
The mouth looked like the sassiest smirk she had ever seen. 
Who the hell sent her this box?
“Shake it,” Gwen murmured, “is it heavy?” 
“I’m not gonna shake it! What if it’s fragile?” Pía lifted the box, feeling the weight in her hands as she tried to decipher the handwriting. It wasn’t instantly recognizable, but then most secret admirers liked it that way. 
“Open it or I will, come on, P! We’re gonna be late otherwise.” 
Pía shot Gwen a look, but pulled the little tab anyway, releasing the seal and pulling the lid open as she ran through everything it could be in her head. 
She wasn’t expecting chocolates, though. Round little truffles in gold paper cases, each with decadent chunks of sea salt sprinkled on top. 
Salted caramel, her favourite.
"It's chocolate," Gwen said with a slight disappointment in her voice.
Looking at the gold label etched on the inside of the box, her breath caught in her throat. She recognized the brand. These were not just run of the mill chocolate pralines. These were expensive. She walked by the specialty shop a few times looking at the decadent treats they offered, longing for a taste. Whoever got her these, knew the quality and more importantly knew what kind of chocolate she liked.
"Not just chocolate, Gwen," she told her. The box of chocolate in her hands brought back a lot of childhood memories of her dad bringing a box at the end of each school year. Marking her success with something sweet only the two of them could share.
And to this day, he drove up to see her with a box of them in hand and a smile on his face.
"My dad always gets these for me. I usually have the boxes with me in some of my classes but I didn't think anyone would notice that."
Gwen's eyes shifted from the box to her friend with understanding. Pía brushed the gold foil with her fingers, feeling the raised letters with a soft smile. She shook her head and tucked them into her bag, her mood actually much improved by the gesture. Gwen laughed at her eager expression.
"Well, I guess we do love a man who's observant."
“Or woman,” she quipped with a raised brow. 
“Or woman. Let me see the handwriting again though.” 
Pía shook her head with a laugh and pulled her out of the doorway before pulling the door closed and checking the lock. 
“I want chocolate now.” Her roommate protested beside her. 
“I can share or you know you could also walk down the hall and knock on Sam’s door.” Pía joked with a wiggle of her brows, stopping just as Gwen did when she looked back in consideration. She stared at her with a look of disbelief as the blonde smiled back at her. 
“I was kidding ok. Let’s go, you're really gonna be late now.”
The two of them practically ran out of the door and across campus before separating, Gwen heading to the chem labs and Pía going into the large red-brick building that housed the English faculty.
She entered the lecture room in a hurry, dismayed to see it almost full but then she spied Sam’s roommate, who surreptitiously gestured to her, tapping the back of the seat next to him, where he’d placed his bag. It was almost as if he’d saved it for her.
Pía let out a huff, making her way up the steps and squeezing her way through the filled seats whispering apologies as she did so. She wasn't used to this many people being in their seats before her. Not that she was ever the first one in the room either, but she liked getting here with enough time to get herself settled before opening up the creative side of her brain. 
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she moved her way into the free seat, half smiling at the boy next to her. 
"Ok, class!" Professor Fury's voice boomed through the classroom. Of course, he picked today to be 4 minutes early. 
Plopping herself down in the seat, she scrambled to get her notebook out and ready, attempting to listen to the professor as she tried to centre herself, but the brush of Bucky's shoulder against hers drew her attention elsewhere. 
"Morning sunshine," he whispered into her ear. 
Pía felt her cheeks get warm and she smiled at Bucky as she flipped her notebook open to a fresh page and pulled out her pencil case that was filled with an assortment of colourful pens.
“How… how are you today, Bucky?” She stammered
“Better now,” Bucky grinned, tapping his pen on the desk and scrunching his nose at her, blue eyes shining. “You ready for Fury’s famous ode to modern poetry?” 
Pía chuckled softly. Everyone knew Fury was a diehard fan of poetry over everything else creative writing, modern over classics too, surprisingly. Any creative writing major had heard of and anticipated just how passionate he gets when these lectures rolled around. 
“I’ve been counting down the days,” she giggled, twirling her own pen as Fury clapped his hands. With his black roll neck and pushed-up sleeves, their professor looked like he’d fit right in at a slam poetry night.
“Hey,” a whisper came from behind her, “Pía!” Her name was grumbled followed by a poke to her shoulder with a pencil. 
She knew before she even turned around that Thor was leaning over his desk. His long hair dangled in her face and wafted the smell of two day old strawberry margaritas in her face. She shifted to look at him, unsurprised when she found exactly that. “What?” She huffed quietly as Fury rambled on at the front of the class. 
“Did you finish last week's chem lab?” He asked. 
“This is creative writing Thor…” Pía rolled her eyes with a lazy smile on her face. 
Thor looked down at his papers, his brows knitting together in confusion. She turned back around only for him to tap her again, only before she could speak Bucky answered for her.
"Dude! Are you still drunk?" He whisper-yelled. Flicking the blonde with his pen across the forehead, which Thor tried swatting away like a fly causing a couple of their classmates nearby to chuckle at his grumpy expression.
"James Barnes!" Fury exclaimed sarcastically across the wide lecture hall. "Would you like to teach this series on Auden yourself since you have my entire class' attention now?" 
Bucky's face flared up as Pía giggled lightly, earning her an ocean blue side-eye. He straightened up in his seat, leaning over the small desk with a smirk. 
"Nah, Fury, I'm good. More of an E.E. Cummings guy myself," Bucky replied cheekily, a mix of groans and chuckles from the desks around him. "Seriously, my bad. Carry on." 
Pía couldn't resist whacking him with the back of her hand as Fury sighed and stared them down over the top of his glasses, clapping his hands together with finality. 
"Well thank you for your express permission, Mr. Barnes. And to whoever the...dude...is behind you, kindly get the hell outta my lecture hall."
Thor grinned like an idiot in his seat before awkwardly getting to his flip-flop clad feet and crab walking past other students, tripping over them along the way and mumbling a series of sorry's and pardon me's.
Pía tried so hard to contain her giggles as Thor maneuvered clumsily through the lecture hall and he was just about gone when he abruptly stopped and turned around to start flirting with a random girl.
Professor Fury looked ready to go nuclear, shooting a glare at Bucky as if it truly was his responsibility to get rid of the party animal.
"Oh my God, Thor! Leave already!" Bucky blurted out suddenly, earning another giggle from the class.
"Right, my bad. Talk to you later." Thor winked at the girl who wrote her number down on a scrap of paper for him before finally leaving.
“Mot-, all right everyone may we continue please,” Fury pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in exasperation as the classroom door swung closed and everyone settled down. 
Pía leaned over and reached her hands into her bag, slipping off the small note attached to the box that had been waiting for her in her doorway. She folded it as neatly as she could and slid it into one of the pockets before sitting up straight with the box in tow. 
She moved her gaze over to Bucky who was already looking at her, a soft smile on his lips. She tapped her fingers nervously on the sides of the box before opening it and sliding it further his way. 
“Want some chocolate?”
Her murmured words weren’t loud enough to carry to the front of the class, where Fury was now leaning against his desk with his arms folded, just beginning his lecture. Bucky heard her, however, with an expression she couldn’t quite decipher.
“Are you sure?” He asked.  “They look kinda special.”
“I guess they are,” Pía replied with a smile. “Consider it a thanks for saving me a seat.”
“Don’t need a reward for that, Sweetheart,” he winked, but he took one of the chocolates and popped it into his mouth.
Rolling her eyes, Pía picked up the second chocolate and bit into it, letting the caramel sea salt and chocolate wash over her taste buds. A soft hum escaped her throat as her eyes fluttered closed and a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. 
"Would you and your chocolate like to get a room?" Bucky quipped quietly from beside her, his lips lightly brushing against her hair. 
Her eyes snapped open and she turned to see the boy smirking beside her, his ocean blue eyes tracing her features. Pía nudged her shoulder into his and shook her head, trying to ignore the heat creeping up her neck, "shut up!" she whispered back.
Bucky put his hands up in mock surrender and whispered “sorry” with a lopsided grin.
She shook her head and smiled to herself as she turned her attention back to the front and to Fury. Pía tried her best to focus on the professor and take notes on what he was saying.  Soon enough Fury got into one of his long and animated speeches and Pía settled into taking detailed notes using different coloured pens to highlight different topics and themes that the professor mentioned.
“Hey, did you do the assignment he set last week? The short poem one?” Bucky whispered, plucking one of Pía’s pens from the desk and highlighting his own messy notes. 
“I take it you didn’t?” Pía replied with a quirk of her eyebrow. 
“Actually, I did,” Bucky countered, poking his tongue out at her playfully. “I was just wondering because Fury said we’ll be sharing them with someone else and getting feedback if you wanna read each other’s?”
Pía was hesitant, she preferred to keep her poems herself but something about the wistful curiosity in Bucky’s eyes made her feel confident and safe. To share, if only with him. 
“Sure,” she dug the poem out from the back of her notebook. The pages folded too many times to count out of sheer nervousness. Fiddling with the dog eared corners she inhaled deeply and handed it to him, her fingers still gripping the corner of the paper. 
“I’ll be careful with it,” he said in a whisper and the breath she had taken caught in her throat. “Promise.” His finger brushed against the side of her hand gently as she finally let go of the paper.
He dug into one of his folders before finding his poem, then gently slid it over to Pia. "I look forward to knowing what you think," he whispered. Bucky looked towards the front of the room then as he tried to catch up on his notes from Fury's lecture.
The slightly crumpled paper practically burned a hole through her desk. Something about Bucky today was making her more flustered than usual. He was always friendly, never shy with his laughs or smiles, and flirted like it was his last day on earth. It made her blush every time he entered her orbit when they went out with their friends. 
She chanced a glance at his slanted writing, something about it tickling the back of her brain, and read the poem quickly while attempting to also focus on Fury. 
I loved her the same way
that I learned how to ride a bike.
Scared, but reckless.
With no training wheels
or elbow pads so my scars
can tell the story of how I fell for her.
It was short but sweet and Pía suddenly became nervous about her own poem, glancing over at Bucky who took his time reading it. She could tell exactly which line he was on by the way his blue eyes moved across the page.
You tell me to quiet down cause
my opinions make me less beautiful,
but I was not made with a fire in my belly
so I could be put out.
I was not made with a lightness on my tongue
so I could be easy to swallow.
I was made heavy,
half blade and half silk;
difficult to forget and not easy
for the mind to follow.
Her face grew red as his eyes finally stopped scanning the page, lingering on the last two lines and Pía suddenly began to feel overexposed.
"It's silly." She mumbled, trying to snatch the poem back from him but he retreated from her grip.
"No, it's not. It's... It's actually very beautiful." Bucky said.
Pía swallowed thickly, eyes focused on her nervous fingers and her soothing taps against the paper Bucky had handed to her. 
“Thank you, Bucky. Truly.” She lifted his gaze up to him and there he was looking back at her, that same soft smile on his face as before. She smiled back and tapped her index finger with more purpose just below his last line. 
“Yours is amazing. Vulnerable and… well raw love, which is beautiful. She must be very special.”
“I think so,” he said softly, his expression wistful.
Pía felt a twinge of envy for the girl that could elicit such a look from a guy like Bucky.  The redness in her cheeks wasn’t fading as quickly as she’d hoped, especially not under Bucky’s lingering attention, as if he were waiting for her to say something else. After another awkward moment, he huffed out a chuckle and, shaking his head, turned his attention back to Professor Fury.
The rest of the class dragged on as the professor rattled off poem after poem, allowing the class to analyze them for themselves and try their hand at picking out the proper meanings from the hidden messages. Pía felt the most comfortable in this class, it was one she was best at and it helped that the cute boy sitting next to her almost every day was not only interested in the actual class but made it more enjoyable just by talking about the work with her. 
The closing of Bucky's notebook beside her brought Pía out of her daydream that she hadn't realized she was in. She looked down and saw the linework of a small daisy appearing beneath her pen. 
"Oops," she chuckled, as she began cleaning up her own desk. 
"You didn't miss anything," Bucky shrugged, his signature playful smirk tugging at his plump lips, "oh we do have a new assignment for next class though, writing about an alien invasion or something like that..." 
Rolling her eyes, Pía let out a huff of air, "ha ha very funny..." and then she paused, turning her eyes to meet his, "Wait really?" 
Bucky's laugh boomed into the almost empty classroom, "No, you make it too easy sometimes," he commented, brushing a stray piece of dark hair off her shoulder.
As she was putting away her notebook and her pencil case Bucky tapped her on her shoulder.
“Did you want to go to the campus coffee shop and go over our poems together and share our thoughts? You know cause since that’s what Fury wants us to do.” He said with a slightly nervous tone to his voice. Why would he be nervous? Pía thought to herself. She froze at his question, not entirely sure what to say.
“Uh—” Pía paused, blinking rapidly as she tried to ignore the not so subtle puppy eyes Bucky was flashing her. “Can we rain check, actually? I already planned to meet Gwen after class and I’m pretty drained.” 
Bucky’s face only faltered for a moment before he broke out into the lopsided grin she’d come to know him for. 
“Sure thing, say hey to Gwen for me.” 
Pía nodded, watching on as Bucky swung his backpack over his shoulder and left the room. 
Oh, boy. 
It was two days later, as Pía left for a study group at the library that another box appeared outside her door. Slightly larger, flat and tied with ribbon, she furrowed her brow as she opened it, this time alone and without the prying eyes of Gwen. 
Inside, the most gorgeous silk handkerchief she’d ever seen. Emerald green, pink and blues. Hand embroidered, it looked ridiculously expensive and — she checks the note tucked into the lid — sure enough, the same lopsided smiley face and her name in the same slightly slanted cursive.
She brushed the fabric between her fingers, smiling as she tucked it into her pocket. As she made her way to the library, juggling her bag and books in one arm she slipped her hand into her pocket and found herself sinking into the soft silken fabric of the handkerchief. 
Whoever had left it for her knew her well. Study group went well, she shared her notes with Steve and Thor who she really should have charged for tutoring but she enjoyed the oaf's company more than she cared to admit. Once it was finished she found a corner of the library that was void of other people and sunk into her creative writing work. 
“Hey,” a soft voice floated over her, warm breath on her neck as his face settled into the crook of her neck just far enough away from her face to be friendly. The familiar spicy scent of Bucky’s cologne warmed her chest and she didn’t dare turn her head. If she had her lips would come dangerously close to his and if she was brave, the kind of grace she wanted to be, she would kiss him. But inside she just froze, unable to act on that notion. 
“What you working on?” Bucky asked.
Pia licked her lips, willing her voice to sound normal before speaking. "A short story that's due at the end of this week. Have you started on yours?" she asked, giving him the side eye. God, he smells like cinnamon and bergamot... "It has to be three chapters long."
Bucky scrunched his nose in a grumpish manner, telling Pía everything she needed to know.
"You really shouldn't wait until the last minute." She giggled, watching him as he tossed himself into the seat next to her.
"I am learning that I am a man of few words. I am better at writing poetry and sometimes, I am better at writing nothing at all..." He trailed with a small smirk, eyeing Pía's pocket where the silk handkerchief stuck out.
She watched out of the corner of her eye as he set his laptop and notebook up next to hers. She suddenly felt lighter, a soft fluttering swarming around her stomach at his presence beside her. His hand brushed lightly against hers as he was doing so, the contact immediately sending a shock through her nerves. 
Bucky whispered a sorry as he brushed against her arm once more leaning down to grab something from his backpack. When he sat up, he peered over her screen again. 
“What’s that?” He asked with a curious smile. 
“I already told you, the short story.” Pía laughed softly. 
“No, no. Not that, pretty girl.” Bucky scooched closer to her, pressing his chest against her arm as he swung his arm across the back of her chair and lifted the other one. His warm breath fanned along her cheek and she could feel the heat creeping up her neck at the sensation. 
“That,” he said, pointing at the smaller document on the other side of the screen.
The fluttering in Pía’s stomach grew into an entire swarm of butterflies that decided to conjure up a tornado in her belly.  Pretty girl?! He was obviously just trying to sweeten her up because he’d not done his story, she decided as red heat crept across her chest and up her neck.
“It’s nothing, it’s…” she faltered at his raised eyebrow, his piercing blue eyes brightening with challenge.  “It’s just something stupid I’ve been working on,” she finished with a sigh.
“Poetry or prose?” He asked, so softly she found herself leaning a little closer.
“A poem,” she whispered and out of the corner of her eye she caught his look of expectation.
“Don’t leave me hangin’ Pía,” he drawled slowly, almost sensuously. “Read it for me?”
Taking in a shaky breath, Pía shook her head quickly, keeping her gaze plastered on her computer screen, “Bucky, it’s not... It’s not ready, I - I can’t…” 
The feeling of Bucky’s fingertips brushing along the side of her neck both calmed her and seemed to ignite the swarm in her stomach even more. His free hand came up and he placed the knuckle of his finger under her chin, turning her dark eyes to meet his blue ones. Did he have any idea what he was doing to her right now? 
“Please…” he whispered, tilting his head to the side and smiling softly, “It’s just me, Pía” 
Pía’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment as she let out her breath and chewed on her bottom lip, “Fine, but you cannot make fun of me and it’s not finished or perfected or..” 
“Pía,” he stopped her, moving to place his hand on top of hers, “I’m sure it’s amazing” 
Her eyes flickered around the library quickly before she turned back to her computer screen, doing her best not to think about the way Bucky's thumb was absentmindedly rubbing her knuckles. Pía cleared her throat and began reading in a voice just above a whisper: 
"It takes a lot
for her to be able to 
fly fully and freely
in the way she was meant to,
but oh how beautiful it is
when she embraces
the process
of transformation
knowing that she is
growing at the right pace
no matter who does or does not
look her way"
She could feel Bucky's eyes on her while she read, her voice shaky and nervous as she did so. It was the first time she'd shared something so vulnerable and personal with anyone. In a way though, Pía knew it felt right that it was Bucky who'd heard it for the first time and she allowed a small smile to tug at her lips, still too afraid to look his way. 
"That was..." he let out a soft breath, and squeezed her hand, Pía's eyes finally trailing over to him, "one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard."
She looked into his eyes, those mesmerizing blues and she knew that he was being completely genuine when he said that. How was it that he could be so kind, sweet and gentle towards her with what seemed like little effort? He somehow knew how to put her at ease with the simplest of words or the lightest touch. But those light touches also stirred something in her that she never had felt before, but she knew that she liked it. 
“Thanks, I’m not writing it for class. It was really just something I wanted to write for myself” she replied, giving him a small smile.
“Good,” Bucky replied, gaze fond as it fell to their joined hands. “Words like that? Those losers don’t deserve to be graced with them.” 
He flashed her that grin and Pía laughed, trying to keep quiet in the library by covering her mouth. But her breath caught in her throat and the humming silence around them was interrupted by a soft snort. 
“Oh my God,” she giggled, “nooo, that was so embarr—“ 
“Cute,” Bucky said, cutting her off as his own laughter filled the small space between them, rich and melodic to her ears. “That was cute, Pía. You’re cute.”
Pía pressed her face into the palm of her hand to hide the flush of her cheeks from his brazen stare. 
“Fury would have-” she started to deflate before him. 
“Fury believes to be strong, or to change, words to be straightforward and rough. What you wrote was…” Bucky stopped, his hand reaching out to her cheek. The ring on his thumb was cool against her skin as he pulled her hand away from her face. “Delicate,” he rubbed his thumb across her fingers looking down at where their hands were touching. His bottom lip pushed out, making his pouty lips painfully full, “but unbreakable and insightful in a way Fury could never understand and frankly never deserves to read. I barely deserved the Honor,” he peered up at her through thick lashes.
The levity of his words shook her deeply. To be seen so completely, and understood without explanation, was a feeling Pía had never felt. Bucky, by his soft voice and by his reverent expression, conveyed passion mirrored from her poetry. And by his proximity ignited a heat within her.
Pía’s eyes flicked down to his plump lips, fleetingly swift, and back up to his eyes, so full of adoration.  She swallowed hard, trying to find the words to thank him for his kindness.
“You sure have a way with words, Mr. Barnes,” she whispered softly. Pía watched as he glanced down at her lips, making her cheeks only heat up further. “Thank you.” 
"As I said before, I don't have many of them, but I know how to use them." He smirked, biting his lower lip as he did.
"I do really like your poem. I'm not kidding," Bucky assured her.
"I know you're not." Pía smiled warmly though still embarrassed and quickly pulled herself away from him back to her computer, not quite sure when she had fallen into his orbit. 
"It's got some nice imagery. It's like... Uhm, like, you're a butterfly coming out of a cocoon." He explained and Pía felt both corners of her lips turn up even wider.
"Yeah, that's... Well, that is what I was going for." She beamed as she closed the window her poem had been written on.
"You, on the other hand, should be going for a short story format, three chapters." She reminded him with a laugh.
Bucky threw his head back and groaned slumping against the back of his chair. He lifted his chin and looked back at her with a pout. Pía’s eyes drifted from his eyes to his lips and back. 
“You’re not gonna get off my back ‘til I do it are you?” The corner of his lip upturning slightly. 
She raised a brow at him, holding back the smile that tickled at her lips, “I mean, I don’t have  to remind you.”
“No no, I would love for you to keep reminding me. In fact, send me a text every hour on the hour to remind me. Please” he finished with a bat of his eyelashes as he tilted his head onto her shoulder.
“I’m not gonna do that,” Pía said, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.
“But you gotta. Pleeease,” Bucky whined, his eyes large and pleading.
“I can’t.”  She protested with a chuckle, loving the weight of his head against her.
“Why not?” Bucky pouted, his pink lips glistening temptingly in the glow of the library lights.
“Because I don’t have your number,” she sighed with a gentle shrug.
Bucky's next plea was cut short by her words, and he narrowed his eyes, seemingly thinking it over. Outside of class and the couple times she was dragged to his apartment by Gwen so that she could see Sam, this had been the most open conversation they had that didn't fully involve class work. 
He hummed and reached across her laptop, picking up her phone and swiping it open. "You should really have a password on this thing," he commented as he navigated his way to the contacts, "any old person could just break in and give you their number." 
Pía scoffed, and furrowed her brows, unable to tame the grin that spread across her face as she watched him. 
Casually, he returned her phone to the same position it had been in when he grabbed it and Bucky turned his attention back to her. 
"Of course, you have my number, what are you talking about? I gave it to you months ago!" He gestured wildly, becoming over-dramatically offended at her words.
“Obviously it would have been the first thing we did,” she replied, playing along. 
“Obviously. I mean, how could you forget the moment you saw that incredibly handsome, really cool guy across the room and decided that you immediately had to get his number? Honestly, Pía.” 
“Me? You could have asked for my number!” 
“Potato, pot-ah-to.” Bucky grinned, “You got it now and I’m expecting those hourly texts.” 
“In your dreams, Barnes.” 
“Oh, but you already are, sweet Pía.” 
Pía rolled her eyes but she couldn’t help the way her stomach flipped. 
“Okay, Romeo. Why don’t you channel some of that sweet talking into your classwork. I was actually concentrating before you so rudely interrupted.”
They both went back to work. Pía stole glances of Bucky over her laptop. Every so often she would catch the depth of his ocean eyes staring back and the flush of her skin would return. That feeling found her throughout the weeks after more small gifts appeared at her door. Each one pulled her further into silly conspiracies of who it might be. 
“Steve?” Gwen rolled back on her bed and howled. “You think that walking beer keg left you those gifts?” 
“I don’t know,” Pía threw her arms up, the last gift had been the cutest drawing of a cat sleeping beneath an apple tree. Sketched on the back of a campus napkin. “He’s been weirdly nice these past few days!” 
“Have you been huffing gas in Chem 101?” Gwen sat up and looked at her. “A boy flashing smiles and flirting with you doesn’t mean he cares. Whoever is leaving these gifts… Pía they see you, this isn’t some frat boy crap.”
What a terrifying thought, Pía huffed, her chest suddenly too tight and her head dizzy. “I need some air,” she slipped on her sneakers and made her way to their front door. 
A good dose of fresh air and a walk around the campus gardens was just what Pía needed to clear the heavy feeling in her chest and to let her mind wander on thoughts that weren’t secret admirers.  Perhaps the beauty of nature would distract her and stop her thoughts from spiralling out of control, perhaps she would be inspired to write something beautiful.
Pía took a deep breath and turned the door knob.  The doorway would symbolize a cleansing threshold which, when passed through, would hopefully grant her the first feeling of relief from her thoughts.
Her first step was her last, as her sneaker toed a small box on the floor outside in the hallway.  It was small and light when she picked it up, made of a simple black matte card, and with a familiar note on top.  A cheeky smirking face penned on the note looked up at her and her chest tightened once more.  Her secret admirer had struck again.
“What’s wrong?” Gwen asked as she entered the room and Pía stood static in the open doorway with the box in her hand.
Pía looked at her friend, feeling overwhelmed and nervous.  What could it be?
She glanced back down at the smiley face that had been gracing her over the weeks, usually a warm welcome but today the swarm of thoughts that clouded her all came crashing back. With tentative fingers, she pried open the box letting out a small gasp as small wings came into view. 
"Pía, you look like you've seen a ghost," Gwen padded to her only to stop her steps as her friend turned around holding out an ornate origami royal blue butterfly that stared back at them, "a butterfly?" 
Her eyes shot up to Gwen as the realization hit her. It's like you're a butterfly... His words pierced through her. Bucky had been the only person she had shown her poem to. Otherwise, it lived untouched on her laptop, a secret only the two of them shared. 
She picked up the butterfly with her fingers, careful not to damage the wings or crease it and dropped the box as she palmed the delicate gift. Everything had been him. The chocolates, the handkerchief, all of it. All things that she had said in passing and not given a second thought to. He had remembered all of it. Pía turned on her heel and out of their apartment, practically floating down the hallway as her nerves buzzed beneath her skin like a bee hive. She reached his door and before she could stop herself or second guess it her hand raised and knocked twice.
As Bucky answered the door he met Pía’s eyes and they flitted down to her hands and widened in realization as she held the butterfly in her hands.
“It’s you. You’re the one that’s been giving me the gifts,” she stated. Her cheeks were red as she watched his eyes grow bigger. “James… speak…”
Her heart hammered against her ribcage as she watched his Adam's apple bob in his throat when he swallowed thickly. She felt as if the air had been knocked out of her lungs as she waited for him to say something, anything. 
"Bucky, please," Her voice just a faint whisper between them. 
"Pía I-" Bucky stopped and took a breath, seeming to steel himself with courage before he continued. 
"I'm in love with you, and I think I have been since- '' His words were stopped when Pía closed the distance between them and connected their lips in a kiss. She didn't know what came over her at that moment but Bucky made her feel safe, and right now she could live in his soft plump lips if she was allowed to. His hands quickly found her hips and steadied her as she rested her hand lightly on his chest. 
Pía pulled back from the kiss first, eyes still closed as she settled back on her feet, relishing in the stroke of his thumb against the sliver of skin beneath the hem of her shirt. Bucky leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers.
A moment of silence fell between them, as she paused to gather her thoughts. The pounding of her heart calmed and the white noise from the hallway faded into nothing the longer they stood there together. It felt as though a weight had been lifted off her and she felt more calm than she ever had since starting college. That's what Bucky did without even knowing it. He made her feel like she could take on the world despite her worries and insecurities. 
Pía brushed the tips of their noses together and breathed a laugh, "Sorry you uh, you were saying something," she whispered. 
"Was I? I don't remember that..." Bucky whispered back, pressing their lips together once more and taking a few steps back into his apartment and pushing the door shut behind them. 
"Bucky I - "
He hummed and shook his head, brushing their noses together once more, "one more..." he whined, "then we can talk..." He smiled into a third kiss, snaking his arms fully around her waist and pulling Pía flush with his body.
She melted into him, fingertips skimming over the soft cotton of Bucky’s t-shirt, across his broad shoulders until they threaded into his hair. The fluffy brown tufts already wild, even more so with her hand gripping it as Bucky deepened the kiss. 
Stumbling back, they traversed the apartment. Soft giggles and small gasps as they broke for air between kisses. Now that she’d started, she didn’t want to stop.
Pía tugged Bucky’s lower lip between her teeth, soothing the same spot with a swipe of her tongue. Bucky groaned and pulled back to meet her gaze.
He looked thoroughly debauched, hair mussed and lips kiss-swollen. Utterly gorgeous as he tilted his head thoughtfully, mouth curved in that lopsided smile. Just like the notes on her gifts. 
“I know we should talk, really wanna keep kissin’ you…” he murmured, stealing another gentle peck anyway.
“Kiss and talk,” Pía searched his face and cupped his chin gently in her hand. 
He moved them backward until his knees buckled against the side of the bed and he tugged her down with him. Pulling her into his lap and wrapping her thighs around his waist as he settled back against the wall. 
He pushed the hair from her face, nuzzling his nose against hers before kissing a languid line along her jaw. 
“Why?” She asked tipping her head back and leaning into his touch. 
“Why what?” His hands roved up her back, digging into her skin above her shirt. 
“Why the secret gifts?” She asked tilting her gaze back to his. 
“Because my clever girl,” he nipped at her skin, “they brought the sweetest smile to your face, one that made your eyes light up and your lips curl just a little more to the left. I had only planned the first but that day in class. Seeing that smile,” he kissed the corner of her mouth. “Hearing the noise you made enjoying them,” he whispered and all Pía’s restraint resolved. “I needed more.”
"You could have told me," she whispered, scrunching her nose at him as another beautiful grin spread across his lips and he shook his head. 
"Not," he leaned in pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth in a gentle kiss, "a," he paused brushing his lips against her own before kissing the other corner, "chance," the last word came out in a whisper as he kissed her slowly before pulling back carefully, silvery blue eyes studied her for a moment. Pía was sure her heart was bound to explode out of her chest with the look, "for once I got to see you be happy, really happy and not the mask that you share with the world when everyone is looking. I got to see the real Pía." His voice was low and gentle as his fingertips explored the exposed skin just above the collar of her shirt sending waves of goosebumps down her spine, "I was just lucky enough to be the one to make you smile like that."
Pia breathed deeply as she stared back at him. She couldn’t believe that he’d done all of this. Just for her. “But… Why me? I’m not anyone special, Bucky. Really…”
Bucky brought his hands to her face cupping her cheeks. 
"Pía, you are the most amazing person I have ever met," his thumb stroked her cheek tenderly as he kept his eyes focused on hers, "you are selfless and kind. You have a talent beyond words. And on top of that, you are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on."
Taking in a shaky breath, bringing her hands down, resting one on his chest once more and opening the other to look at the butterfly he'd crafted for her, "I didn't think you noticed me like that," she admitted, running her finger over the blue paper wings. 
"Pretty Pía," Bucky dipped his head and caught her gaze once more, "you are the only person I notice in every room I walk into" 
Pía reached over and gently placed the delicate butterfly onto Bucky's nightstand before returning her attention to him, placing her hands on either side of his neck and claiming his lips as hers again. She relished in the swarm of creatures that erupted deep in her belly and every moment of Bucky flashed through her mind. 
He saved her seat in class every week. Through busy lecture halls or late events, he always found her across a crowd, bringing that soft smile to her lips that she could never get rid of and she didn't know why. The way she sought comfort in the smallest brush of his hand when they were out at a club with Gwen and Sam. She felt safe. He made her feel safe. 
She pulled back and rested their foreheads together, her chocolate brown eyes tracing his soft features, "I didn't say it back..." she whispered. 
"Pía you don't have t- "
"But I do," she breathed out, "I do Bucky, I -"
"I love you," he completed her sentence for her. 
A breath escaped her lips and she shook her head, "that's my line," she grinned.
“I love-” she tried again only to be cut off but his mouth on hers. “James Buchanan Barnes so help me god,” she bit into his bottom lip softly. 
“I love you,” she finally got out, after an exhausting bout of kissing. “Bucky…” she played with the hem of his shirt with her hand.
“Pía we don’t-” he rested his hand on hers. 
She giggled, “I want to.” She unlinked from him and rolled the hem of her own shirt into her hands and pulled it up over her head. 
Bucky ran his hands through her messed up hair and cupped her face, “you’re beautiful.”
Heat crept up the back of her neck at his words, a sudden wave of embarrassment washed over her as her eyes fell from his. Bucky dipped his head to catch her gaze, "hey," he whispered, "you are beautiful," he reassured as if he could feel the nerves radiating off of her, "can I show you?" 
Her brows knit together, not understanding. 
Bucky chuckled softly, "my sweet Pía, can I show you how beautiful you are to me?" His hands roamed up her back, slow and snail paced but leaving trails of fireworks on her skin. Pía nodded and in a swift motion he lifted her from his lap and rolled them over on his tiny bed forcing a soft giggle to leave her lips. He settled between her legs, one hand gripped firmly around her thigh while he dipped his head down and began kissing her collarbone, trailing his lips to each soft point that poked from her skin until he began moving down her chest, kissing softly while he moved but his eyes never leaving her own as soft quick breaths left her lips.
Pia moaned as her hands found his hair, running through the soft locks. She felt as he trailed his tongue along the underwire of her bra, making her shiver. 
“Can I?” He asked softly. “Let me see all of you, my beautiful butterfly.”
"Please," she whined. 
Bucky pressed a kiss to her sternum as he trailed his fingers up her side. Her back arched at the contact as his hand worked the clasp of her bra. With it undone, he brought his hand forward and slid her bra slowly off, eyes never leaving hers. 
Her breath quickened at the sudden exposure, nipples pebbling under the cold air in the room. 
Bucky's lips found hers in a kiss equal parts soft and wanting. When he pulled back he brushed his nose against hers, "are you okay?" he whispered against her lips. 
Pía nodded with a smile, "I'm ok, I trust you." 
"Careful, you might make me fall even more in love with ya." He pressed another kiss to her lips, "If you say stop, we stop. Ok pretty girl?"
Nodding her head again, Pía placed her hands on Bucky's arms and traced his face with her eyes, "Bucky, I want this, I want you," her fingers trailed down his abdomen and gripped his shirt, helping him pull it off. 
Her head felt dizzy with emotions and every nerve in her body felt like it was on fire at the mere thought of Bucky's talents. Every other thought melted out of her mind and focused solely on the beautiful man hovering above her, worshiping her like she was the only girl in the world. With Bucky's lips trailing down her neck, Pía let a small whine escape her lips as she bucked her hips up into him. 
"That goes both ways you know," she panted, "if you don't want this, if you want to stop, we'll stop, okay?" 
Bucky nodded and nipped at the skin of her shoulder, "I know sweetheart, " he mumbled, softly grazing his thumb over her nipple.
She pressed her lips to the hollow of his shoulder, kissing and nipping at his skin as he massaged her breast with the palm of his hand. 
He used his knee to push up on the inside of her thigh, widening her legs further. He kissed the soft skin of her neck trailing down over the swell of her chest to her stomach. His lips memorized the shape of her hips as his hand wrapped around her back and lifted her into his face. 
His fingers curled into the hem of her pants and with a little help he was able to get them down. She giggled at his struggle, the fabric tight around her calves but snapped free eventually leaving her only in her underwear. 
“Are you laughing at me?” He huffed sitting back on his haunches. The question was husky and his hands ran up her legs until he hovered over her and kissed her breathless.
Bucky pulled back tugging gently on her bottom lip as he did so. She stared back up at him, her lip finding home between her teeth as he moved down to her chest again wrapping his lips around her still pebbled nipple forcing a gasp to leave her. A smug smile graced his features as he watched her. Pía shook her head tilting it back into the pillow as his hands began to roam lower on her hips, "I would never," she teased breathlessly. 
He hummed against her skin sending delicious vibrations through her before he released the sensitive nub, "somehow I don't believe that." Bucky grinned. She sucked in a breath as his fingers gently caressed her folds over her clothed cunt. Pía mewled at the feeling, wanting more and less barriers between them. 
"Bucky," she moaned as his index finger found her clit over the lace of her underwear creating the best feeling. 
He settled between her legs again, one hand cupping her breast and massaging gently at the same tortuously slow pace as his other hand. "You marvel me my sweet girl, do you want more?" He asked after a moment and in between gentle kisses and nips on her hips and inner thighs. 
Pía nodded, her eyes sliding closed with every new sensation Bucky was giving her. She felt his hand pull away for a moment forcing her gaze down to him. 
"I know your sounds are beautiful and telling me everything I need to know, but I need words love, tell me," he pressed a trail of kisses along the hem of her underwear, "do you want more?" 
She sucked in a breath, "god yes," her hands found his hair, raking through the mussed chestnut locks, "please Bucky."
He met her eyes before smiling at her. Bucky grasped the waistband of her lacy underwear between his teeth and pulled them off  her hips. 
Once the piece of cloth was on the floor, Bucky trailed his lips along the skin of her inner thigh before he gently blew air across her damp cunt. 
Watching her back arch, Bucky finally lowered his head and licked a long slow stripe through her folds. 
“Bucky,” she whimpered. “Please don’t tease me.”
Bucky let out a low chuckle, his breath fanning above her clit as his lips hovered over it. "Me? I would never tease you," he winked before circling her clit with his tongue. 
Pía bucked her hips against him, letting out a moan as he took her clit between his lips and sucked. Bucky rolled her nipple between his thumb and index finger as he swung her leg over his shoulder with his other hand. Tugging softly at her clit, sending jolts of electricity through her nerves. 
Her hands found purchase in his hair, fingers interlacing with his soft curls tugging on them softly. A silent beg for more. Bucky teased her entrance with his finger, peering up through his lashes, asking for permission.
"Please Bucky," Pía whimpered, moving her hips against his hand, "please..." 
A playful smirk tugged at Bucky's plump lips as his tongue moved along his bottom lip, taking in her slick for his own. Slowly, he pushed his finger inside her, pulling a deep moan from her chest and causing her to tighten her grip on his hair. 
"I've got you, beautiful girl," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her clit and circling it once more with his tongue, as he curved his finger inside her, "I love all of your pretty little sounds"
His appraisal only made it that much easier for her to relax against him. She felt weightless under his touch. The pressure built between her legs as she tugged tightly on whatever hair she could get ahold of. 
Bucky groaned from the pull and lifted his head to look at her. His eyes full of fire as he slipped another finger deep into her core.
"Oh my god," she breathed. The cord in her stomach quickly becoming tightly wound as he worked her. Everything set her on edge, his lips graced her thighs again nipping and sucking at anything that he could reach, "Bucky, please don't stop," she managed between heavy breaths. 
He planted a kiss over her clit, forcing her hips up once more sending her straight over the edge into euphoria. Bucky continued to curl his fingers inside her, pressing on the spot within her that made the rest of the world disappear around her. Nothing but the sounds of her pleasure and Bucky's approving groans filled the room. 
Bucky slowed his movements, pressing one last kiss to her overstimulated clit before moving to rest above her, his elbows propping him up. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, carding her fingers through his hair as she pulled him down for a kiss. Tasting herself on his lips sent another wave of want through her as he ran his tongue along her bottom lip. She parted her lips granting him access as their kiss became needy and almost full of teeth. Pia ran her nails down his back, feeling the muscle ripple beneath her touch until she found the hem of his jeans. 
She pulled back to catch her breath and watched as his eyes filled with fire and lust raked over her features as if he was trying to memorize the planes of her face. "I need you," she whispered, lifting her head gently to press her lips to his once more. He nodded against her before moving off of the bed. Pia watched him, bringing the knuckle of her index finger to her lips and biting down to curb her enthusiasm as she watched him through her lashes begin to remove his pants.
Pía’s eyes were locked on Bucky’s hands as he unbuttoned his jeans and slid them over his hips, showing a very noticeable bulge underneath his boxers. 
He smirked at her and licked his lips, watching as her eyes widened. Bucky chuckled softly before he slid his boxers down and let them hit the floor before stepping out of them.
“Holy…”
Bucky returned to his spot between her legs, slowly pumping his length in his hand as he lowered himself. Hovering above her, he kissed her, taking her top lip between his own as his tongue raked the roof of her mouth. Pía moaned into the kiss as she dragged her nails down his chest, longing to feel his heart beating against hers as they moved together in perfect harmony. 
He lifted his lips from hers, sliding his tongue playfully across her lips straight to the tip of her nose earning a giggle from Pía in response. 
"Can I, sweets?" He asked, moving a stray strand of hair from her face. She smiled in response and nodded her head slowly as she brought her thumb up to his lip, Bucky placed a tender peck to her finger as he lined himself up with her entrance. Pía pressed her hand against his chest, grounding herself with the steady beat of his heart as he pushed into her slowly, eyes locked with hers.
Her head fell back into the pillow and her eyes fluttered closed, their moans mixing together as he bottomed out inside her. Bucky kept his hips still, allowing her to adjust to him, peppering soft kisses up her throat. Pía quickly relaxed around him and ran her fingernails into his hair, bringing his gaze up to look at her. 
"I'm okay Bucky, you can move," she reassured him, bringing her lips up to meet his. 
Bucky nodded his head, rubbing their noses together and slowly started rocking his hips into her, swallowing her sounds with another kiss. Pía's dark eyes locked with Bucky's and she brought her bottom lip between her teeth as she attempted to muffle more moans as they dripped from her. 
"Don’t..." He whispered, bringing a hand up and cupping her cheek, "don't silence yourself from me sweetheart, I need to hear you," he rasped. 
Pía felt herself clench around Bucky's cock as it hit perfectly against her sensitive spot and she allowed a whimper to leave her lips, "god Bucky..."
"That's it pretty girl," Bucky groaned, his hand sliding down to rest just below her neck and over her heart, feeling her just as she did him. His pace picked up forcing another slew of moans and soft prayers to fall from her lips, "god you sound gorgeous," he dipped his head nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck, his lips finding her pulse point and sucking softly. 
It felt like her body was on fire in the best way, every nerve ending alight with pleasure as he moved within her. She moved her hands to his back, holding him to her as another wave of pleasure started to crest within, feeling herself flutter around him every time he hit that spot within her.
Pía felt him slip a hand between them, his thumb finding her clit applying light pressure as he rubbed circles on her sensitive nub. The touch sent a brand new wave of pleasures through her body making her toes curl as she locked her legs across his hips. 
Bucky dragged his wet kiss-swollen lips up to the shell of her ear and whispered, "I can feel you my precious Pía. Let go for me sweetheart, I'm right there with you, I've got you."
"Bucky," Pía whined, clenching herself around him and pulling a deep growl out of his chest, "I'm gonna- " 
Picking up his pace, Bucky's thrusts became quick and uncontrolled, the knot in Pía's belly tightening the faster he went. She felt every nerve in her body vibrating as their moans echoed out into Bucky's room, no doubt being heard from the hallway, but she didn't care. Nothing mattered but her and Bucky. 
"God," he moaned into her skin, "come for me sweetheart, I'm right here," Bucky's hand reached up, entwining his fingers with hers and squeezing her hand. 
Suddenly, the fire deep within her erupted, her vision going white as her orgasm overtook her whole existence. Bucky's mouth collided with hers swallowing her final moans and taking in every inch of her climax with her. His hips rocked quickly a few more times erratically against hers before his own orgasm came over him. He bent and buried his face into her neck, whispering soft praises into her skin as they worked through their finish.
Pía could feel her body almost trembling from the release, her legs still tightly wound around his hips even when he lifted his head to kiss her again. Their chests heaved as he pulled back, tufts of curls stuck to his forehead as he gave her that same lopsided grin he drew on the notes he left. It was sweet and made her smile up at him with nothing but adoration. She lifted her fingers, the exhaustion in her body apparent when her hand felt heavy but still she pushed back the fallen pieces of hair from his eyes. 
"That was..." 
"Perfect," he finished for her, his hands finding her thighs to help ease them off from around him. Bucky gently pulled from her, planting kisses down her body and forcing giggles to escape. 
"Where are you going?" She smirked watching him as he moved to the ensuite bathroom, appreciating  his naked form before he moved behind a door only to come back a moment later with a washcloth in his hand. 
Bucky grinned sitting down on the edge of the bed, "can I?" he asked, holding the washcloth up. 
She gnawed gently on her bottom lip and nodded as he moved to clean up the mess between her legs, his lips trailing over her knee and leaving kisses on her thighs as he moved. She had never felt anything so intimate before.
He sat up straight once he finished, his right hand caressing her calf while he threw the washcloth to the hamper across the room with the other. He tilted his head back Pía's way and looked at her with slightly hooded eyes and a boyish smile, making her heart feel like it was about to burst from the sight. 
"Do you need anything right now, pretty girl? Water, food, cuddles?" He asked with a sleepy wiggle of his brows,  tracing figures absentmindedly on her leg. 
Pía giggled, "I'm good with the first two for now, thank you but I would love some cuddles. You know, since your offering and all." 
She watched as he took his bottom lip between his teeth, biting back his growing smile as he crawled back in beside her on the bed. He threw his arm across her hips and pressed a kiss to her lips before settling himself on his back and bringing Pía flush to his body, hitching her leg up over his. 
"I was hoping you'd say that, I love to cuddle." 
"Lucky me," she laughed, nuzzling her face in the crook of his neck. 
"I'm the lucky one, Pía. Thank you for allowing me to love you." he voiced softly. Laying a kiss to her head as the tips of his fingers danced along her back while his other hand came to rest atop hers on his chest. 
Pía raised her head, her brown eyes glossy searching for his sea of blue, committing them to memory and thanking the universe that she'd be able to enjoy that view everyday now. She bit the corner of her lip, eyes flitting across his features, "I love you, Bucky Barnes." she whispered. 
His hand came up to rest on the back of her neck as he pulled her lips back to his, a kiss just as needy and meaningful as the last. The soft rake of his thumb along her neck melting her body further into his. With a brush of his nose to hers he pulled back, looking at her with a loving stare. 
"You just wait 'til I make you breakfast tomorrow," he winked. Pía laughed and smacked his chest playfully earning a feigned hurt stare from Bucky. 
"I like my bacon extra crispy, Barnes." she stated, with a serious face. 
"Anything you wish, my precious Pía."
39 notes · View notes
lofaewrites · 1 year
Text
I’m already damn near 1k into 12 Feet Deep. Frat boy! Bucky is so easy for me to write. anyways I think ya’ll are gonna like it and hopefully I get it out sometime next week <3 thank you again to everyone who voted on my poll! I’m kissing all of you on the forehead
2 notes · View notes
lovelybarnes · 7 months
Text
Football and Flirting Masterlist
College football star Bucky Barnes is immediately enamored when he meets you. You? Not so much. But Bucky Barnes is determined. And the teetering-on-cynical views that you hold for relationships are about to realize exactly how determined he is.
based on this request
Football and Flirting
Found Waldo: Bucky searches for you in the crowd after a big game (request)
(Coming Soon)
(Coming Soon
144 notes · View notes
buckrecs · 6 months
Text
2023 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘 4
Tumblr media
masterlist | ✨- fav fics | status - updating
All Of Them are COMPLETED Series
Tumblr media
1. Finding Home by @jobean12-blog
Bucky x Reader Animal Rescue AU
You meet Bucky while he’s out walking Alpine in the city. It’s love at first sight and to make it even better he just opened up an Animal Rescue, Shelter to Solider.  But will his past stand in the way of him finally finding his home. 
2. Welcome Home… Soldat? by @winterarmyy
Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader
Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.
3. Winter Makes Ice by @subwaysurf45
Bucky x Hydra Experiment!Reader
you’re captured after a brawl at the Avengers building, Bucky and others must save you before Hydra makes a new Winter Soldier out of you, Bucky has given up that title.
4. ice ice baby by @endless-summer-soldier
College Hockey Player!Bucky x College Figure Skater!Reader
Bucky is a college hockey player, Y/N is a figure skater without a partner. What's happens when these two opposites start sharing the ice...
5. Right + Click + Save by @syntheticavenger
Bucky x Reader
Working from home has it’s perks, especially when it comes to helping a technologically unsavvy super soldier try to navigate a dating site.
6. Lonely Night by @marvelouslizzie
Roommate!Bucky x Reader
Your crush on your roommate gets out of hand. His smile ruins you in a way you never expected.
7. Like Breathing by @bucky-fricking-barnes
Bucky x Shifter!Reader
Bucky’s life in Cove is far from perfect, mostly because Cove’s residents want nothing more than to scare him away. Luckily for you, Bucky isn’t easily scared off.
8. Where Dreams Go To Die by @insomniumstella
Bucky x Avenger!Reader
Steve’s silly joke happened to inspire the best, or possibly the worst, idea Wanda had ever come up with — send James Buchanan Barnes and y/n on an all-expenses-paid honeymoon in Hawaii. the problem? they cannot stand to be around each other.
9. Make the Wave by @lostgirlmuseum
Bucky x Reader
You invite both your best friend and your boyfriend to a three-day weekend getaway at a beach resort. This trip was meant to be relaxing, but tensions and jealousies rise as both Miles and Bucky fight for your attention. 
763 notes · View notes
buckyalpine · 1 year
Note
So for the Untouched AU have you thought about any of these scenarios? Film themselves having sex, using whipped cream or chocolate, try getting tied up (either one of them but y/n would be my choice), give y/n a nipple-only orgasm, role playing, try edging, order a sex toy online after they search the site for things they wanna try together, tease each other all week with sexting during class, sending pics/videos to each other. I know. Just a few thoughts…🙄
18+
Bucky x f reader (Steve's sister,  if you’re like me, add the caveat of being an adopted sister)
Sex tapes with our Untouched babies? The answer to this is hell yes. These babies are learning everything together. Nudes. Edging. Sex tapes included. Can be read as a standalone.  
Warnings: Smutty smut, fluffy fluff, shy reader, sending nudes, sex tapes
The first nudes 
It started off with a few sexy pics. 
He’d send you a pic of him in his grey sweats after the gym. There’s no way to hide his boner, the outline of his cock straining against the fabric. 
Shirtless pics. 
Fresh out the shower, towel hanging low pics. 
He didn't want to pressure you to send anything so he doesn’t even ask, happy to tease and tempt you instead. Quite honestly he regretted sending you anything in the first place because the second you sent him something with a little extra cleavage he had to hold his school bag against his lap to contain his boner.
The first time he sent you nudes was after he’d spent the whole day struggling to keep his hands to himself after you’d paraded around the house in a tiny sundress. He’d come over to play video games, gritting his teeth each time you came over to you brothers room to bring up their pizza and drinks, petting his hair on your way out. He couldn’t focus on a damn thing, his mind clouded with your bare thighs and the glance he got of your tiny panties from where he was sitting, only coming to his senses when Steve threw the controller at his head. 
At least keep it in your goddamn pants when I’m around punk
As soon as he was home, he pulled his pants off, grabbing his phone, showing off his leaking cock, throbbing, the tip glistening without him touching himself.
My Bucky: See what you do to me? 
Babydoll: OMG BUCKY  🙈
My Bucky: It’s fucking leaking sweets, fuck I need you
Babydoll: Serves you right, perving all day  🙄
M Bucky: You’re the one who teased me, come make it go away  🥺️
You giggled, your face heating up, feeling a little frisky, butterflies erupting around your tummy when he sent you another pic, this time with his balls, legs spread. You pulled your dress up, pulling your panties to the side, giving him the perfect view of your glistening cunt, your heart racing after you hit send. 
Babydoll: Take care of me first 
My Bucky: God Damn.
My Bucky: Fuck babydoll
My Bucky: Not fair, let me come over doll, please?
5 minutes later
My Bucky: I’m outside.
That started it. Bucky didn’t hesitate to show you exactly what you did to him and how hard he was, always ready to show you exactly how turned on he was for you. Study room. His car. Bed. It was fine until he’d nearly gotten caught twice, always scrambling to yank his pants back up, the tell tale blush on his face giving him away. 
“Bucky had his dick out again”
“For fucks sake Barnes” 
“You’re both something else, I swear” 
“This is why we call you Bucknasty” 
“You nasty hoe” 
“Shut up Sam”
Your nudes drove Bucky feral and he’d nearly came in his pants the first time you sent him something in lingerie. He whimpered as soon as he opened the message, struggling not to palm himself, his eyes nearly crossing seeing you encased beautifully in the dark lace, the sheer material hardly covering your nipples and your perfect cunt. He may or may not have left class to rub one out, but it didn’t do much, his cock continued to twitch until he had you spread out on his bed. Your nudes are precious gold to him and he treasures every single one with his life. His beautiful doll in her bare form, all just for him. 
The first time edging 
“Sweet girl, please?” 
“You’re pretty when you beg baby” 
You were on top of Bucky, winding your hips down on him, watching his beautiful fucked out face, his skin flushed, lip chewed from how hard he was focusing. He had a bruising grip on your thighs, his cock throbbing from how badly he wanted to cum. You had made him hold it, bringing him close to the edge only to stop his orgasm right at the tip, his cock swollen and desperate. 
“F-fuck, I can’t y/n” He nearly sobbed, squeezing his eyes shut. You felt your stomach clench, watching his perfect face contort, his brows furrowed, trying so hard to force himself from cumming. “Baby, s’too much, I wanna cum, let me cum, I can’t hold it” 
“Y-yes you can” You continued to bounce on his cock, your high pitched whines making it harder for him to hold off his orgasm. You’d been curious about edging for a while, wanting to give Bucky the most intense pleasure of his life, not realizing it’d be just as amazing for you. Your slick dripped all over his crotch, his balls covered in your arousal. 
“C’mon, I know you wanna cum, let’s cum together baby, please” He pleaded with you, choking at the way your pussy squeezed and fluttered around him, your own orgasm waiting to snap. You whimpered, gasping when he snaked his hand to play with your clit, a pornographic moan slipping from your lip as he rubbed perfect circles. 
“Does that feel good doll? You gonna cum with me?”  
“FUCK BUCKY” You gave into the pleasure he toyed with, your muscles tensed as he started to fuck up into you from underneath, his cock growing harder. “I-shit-
“Let go with me doll, cum with me, I got you” Bucky grabbed your hips, slamming you down onto his cock while he thrusted upwards, his back nearly arching off the bed. You moaned, your body giving way and falling limp, letting him pound from underneath you, the sounds of skin slapping growing louder. 
“I’m gonna cum Bucky!” You started to flutter around his cock, your juices soaked him again as you came on his cock. Bucky let out a strained moan feeling you squeeze him, his pace growing sloppy as he pushed in as deep as he could. 
“Fuckffuck thankyouthankyou, oh god, gonna c- AH FUCKKK” Bucky wrapped his arms around you, stilling as he cock throbbed, cum pumping into your pussy while he whined and whimpered under you. He refused to move afterwards, keeping his cock warm inside you while you both cuddled under his sheets, his face buried into the crook of your neck. 
“Bubba, you have to pull out at some point” You giggled, playing with his hair while he shook his head, keeping his flushed face hidden. 
“Sensitive” He whispered, staying inside your warmth, a new idea coming to mind, “We should try rope next time” 
The first time using rope 
“You sure you okay with this bubba?” Bucky checked the ties again, making sure they were comfortable around your wrists, his thumb stroking your cheek while you looked up at him with love and adoration. No matter what it was he wanted to do, your comfort had always come first. 
That being said, something about having you tied up had made Bucky extra feral. He loved the way you trusted him, your pretty doe eyes shying away from him while you were bare in his bed. 
“You-you look so pretty tied up like this for me baby” Bucky whispered, kissing your lips sweetly while you whimpered, squeezing your thighs together, your clit throbbing. You felt a shiver, naked on his bed while he still had his clothes on, admiring your pretty form as if you were a present just for him. 
He stripped his clothes off while keeping his eyes locked with yours, crawling onto the bed and tossing your legs apart, licking his lips before kissing your inner thigh. 
“Gonna let me play with this pretty pussy baby?” Bucky didn’t waste a second, his tongue laving and drinking every bit of your sweetness, loving the way your squirmed each time he flicked at your clit. 
“Fuck Bucky!” Your back bowed off the bed as he latched onto your clit, suckling, practically nursing off you, moaning as he kept his lips sealed around your sensitive bud. He pulled away from you, untying the rope, just to manhandle you and shove your face into the mattress with your ass in the air. You yelped, feeling his hand spank your ass, grabbing both hands and tying them again, holding onto your wrists as leverage as he brought his cock to your entrance.
“Scream for me baby” He gave you a wolfish grin, glancing at the mirror that was off to the side of the bed, the more you squirmed, the more his cock leaked. “Can’t run from my cock now so take it” He shoved his cock into you, pounding into you, letting his balls hit your clit with each thrust, grunting and groaning. 
“S’too much” Your eyes rolled back, the coil in your belly winding tighter as he pressed his hand to your shoulder blades making his cock his deeper. You cried out, your pussy squelching, your juices making a mess on his thighs. “I’m gonna cum Bucky, pleasee-” 
“Fuck, you gonna cum without me even touching you baby? Don’t even need me to rub that pretty pearl of yours, you gonna cum just from my cock fucking you? You can take it baby, you’re my good girl” Bucky’s voice was low, nearly breathless, his cock throbbing, reeling over how the rope felt as he held onto your tied hands, his perfect beautiful doll, helplessly crying over his cock. “Hold it baby, fuckin’ hold it” 
“Wanna cum James, p-please, wanna cum” You couldn’t even hold it any more, your pussy already starting to flutter. Your moans were muffled against the sheets, your trembling body a sign you were close. 
“Together, jus-jus’ fuckin hold it sweets, that’s it, my good girl, my good fuckin’ girl, m’gonna fill you up okay?” Bucky rubbed up and down your spine, his head thrown back. “Gonna make you feel so good, give you all the cum you want babydoll, cum now baby, cum right fucking now!”
“Give me your cum James” You cried out, your orgasm ripping through you right on his command. Your pussy was desperate to milk every drop of his cum, squeezing and pulsing around him making it harder for him to move. 
“Oh fuck, you have no idea, I’m gonna give it to you doll, gonna give you so much, so much, SO FUCKING MUCH FUCK-” Bucky slammed into you, grabbing your hips and holding still as his cock throbbed, desperately moaning as he filled you up. He untied your wrists, still panting and sensitive from his climax, pulling you up to cuddle up with him. 
“Did I do good Bucky” You mumbled against him, your face buried in his chest, nearly falling asleep instantly at his ministrations. 
“Did so good for me my angel, so perfect” He stroked your hair, kissing your face while you nuzzled against him, his hands gently massaging the indents of the rope of your wrists. “My perfect good girl”
The first sex tape 
Bucky can't help himself, wanting to capture some of those intimate moments with you for just his viewing pleasure. It didn’t matter if he was making soft love to you or railing the fuck out of you, he wanted to go back to every single moment and capture how perfect you were for him, how perfect you looked together. He wanted to see how gorgeous you looked when you were filled up with his cock, how your pretty face contorted with pleasure with him deep inside you. 
You knew he wanted something when he spent the whole day being needy, trailing behind you like a lost puppy. 
“Wanna make a sex tape with you” He whispered, his cheeks blushing. 
"Buckyyy" You covered your face when he brought it up, your cheeks heating up at the idea; you weren’t against it but you still felt self conscious. Bucky pulled you into his lap, cupping your cheek to make you look at him, kissing you before speaking again. 
"Promise no one else will see it sweets, we won't do it if you're no comfortable with it though" He smiled softly and you knew he meant it. Not once had he ever pressured you into doing something you didn't like.
He waited for the day where you felt comfortable. His whole body buzzed with anticipation, noting that you were much more shy, staying curled up in bed, trying to cover yourself up. Bucky propped his phone up, letting it rest on the dresser while he crawled into bed, draping his body over yours, keeping you covered. 
“You sure you okay with this pretty baby?” He whispered, his nose gently bumping against yours. You felt your face heat up, nodding and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I’m sure”
“Can-can I eat you out first?” 
Your eyes grew wide for a moment before you said yes, your breath hitching in your throat as he slowly trailed kisses down your body, starting at your neck, stopping to take your nipples into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around, nipping them before continuing down. His broad shoulders still kept you partially covered, his sculpted ass flexing as he grinded against the mattress, moaning as soon as his tongue tasted your slick. He came back up, crashing his lips against yours letting you taste yourself, moaning when he felt your legs come to wrap around his waist.
“How do you want it baby” His cock brushed against your pussy, the tip leaking, “You want it soft or hard?” 
“Soft please” You whispered, biting your lip as he smiled, kissing your forehead while lining his cock up, rubbing the tip, letting it catch your hole. His eyes rolled back feeling you fluttering already, his whole body keeping you covered. You relaxed under his body weight, gasping as he filled you up, your pussy fluttering over the roll of his hips. You whimpered, trying to keep your moans down, your nails scratching down his back instead, pleasure overwhelming you. 
“Let me hear you sweet girl” He whispered, trailing kisses down your neck, sucking the sensitive flesh, coaxing a whine out of you. “You sound so beautiful when you moan for my cock baby”  You couldn’t help but cry out for him as he sped his thrusts up, bringing his knee up, his cock rubbing and kissing that sensitive spot deep inside you.
“Jamesss” You were finding it harder and harder to silence yourself, soft moans starting to slip from your lips. Bucky’s hands came to lace with yours, pinning them on the bed, squeezing them as he barely pulled out, keeping you full of him. 
“You feel my cock deep inside you baby?” Bucky’s intense gaze made you feel shy again, overwhelmed with the pleasure he was giving you, how intimate the moment was, how you felt him everywhere, all over. 
“So deep B-Bucky” Your voice was shaky, struggling to keep yourself from tipping off the edge, gripping onto his hands instead. 
“I know princess, doing so good for me, you make me feel so good” Bucky kissed you until he had to come up for air, panting and resting his forehead onto yours. “Do I make you feel good babygirl? Does my cock make you feel good?”
All you could do was moan, unable to formulate words as he fucked you harder, is thrusts pushing all the way into you. Bucky groaned at the way your jaw was slack, your body trembling under him, thighs squeezing him, you were close, trying so hard not to cum. 
“You like my cock in your pussy huh angel? Look at how beautiful you are right now doll, Love making you feel good doll, wanna make you feel good every. single. day” Bucky’s pace started to grow sloppy, his breaths getting heavier. 
“Gonna watch this over and over and make myself cum every time I can’t have you pretty girl” 
The thought of Bucky watching your sex tape while touching himself was too much, heat coursing through your body, your pussy starting to suck him deeper. 
“FUCK JAMES” 
“That’s right baby, say my name, wanna hear you scream for me when I make you cum, c’mon, scream my name baby, let go” Bucky picked up his back, moaning into your neck, struggling to hold his own pleasure off until you came first. “Cum baby, m’not gonna last” 
“J-JAMESS” You sobbed, your back bowing off the bed, pressing against his chest, your eyes rolling back. Your let out a pornographic moan, cumming all over his cock, your slick gushing out of you as he continued to fuck you through your high. 
“Gonna cum for you baby, take it sweet heart, take my cum, take it, take it- oh fucckkk” All the muscles in his body were pulled taut, stilling as his cock throbbed shooting his load inside you. He cuddles with you for a bit, still staying inside you before finally pulling out, making sure he still covers up most of you before grabbing his phone to stop recording. 
After the first sex tape, you get a little more comfortable and also more frisky. Bucky records just about anything whenever he gets the chance.
His favorite tapes are the ones where he can see your face and see the way you look at him. It makes him feel butterflies, blushing as he looks back, your pretty eyes always shyly gazing at him even when he doesn’t notice. 
His absolute favorite video is the one from the shower where theres so much steam, it’s a little fuzzy but it makes the moment so much more intimate. He has your legs around his waist, water dripping off your bodies, your back against the shower wall. Your moans echo and bounce off the walls significantly louder, mixed with the sound of the shower.
He also has a few prized ones that he will guard with his life. Ones that would make him cum without touching himself. 
“Smile for the camera my little slut” Bucky’s voice all you can hear, his phone focused on you while you lay on his bed, your hair messy and tousled, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body. 
You blink up with doe eyes, your tongue darting up to lick up the cum dripping from your lips, his load covering your face. You run your finger through the mess he’s made, sucking it off, giving him an innocent giggle. Bucky groaned, panning the camera down to capture the way hes stroking his spent cock, growing hard again because you look so sexy covered in him. 
“Got my dick all sensitive baby, made me cum so hard” He smirked, bringing his semi hard cock to your lips, pushing the tip for you to suckle on. “That’s it, my good girl, my little cum princess drinking up like a good girl” 
You whined, still playing with the cum that covered you, letting him record the way you took his load, coating your fingers and fingering yourself, rubbing your clit after. Bucky spread your legs apart, capturing the way your fluttering pussy dripped onto the bed, your cream messy between your thighs. He makes you hold his phone so you can record the way he cleans the mess up, his chestnut hair between your legs, arms holding you down. 
You can hardly focus on keeping the camera steady but you get every single minute of the way he moans and greedily licks up the mixed arousal pouring out of you. You nearly loose your mind at the way he lets his eyes roll back, telling you how perfect you taste together, crawling up to kiss you, making your more messy than before. 
“Let’s make a sequel?” 
Tags: @glxwingrxse  @hungryyeyess  @sebsgirl71479  @beabutterfly987  @teambarnes72  @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass  @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan​  @buggy14  @whimsyplaty92  @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec​   @pono-pura-vida​   @moonlightreader649​ @brooklynscherry-z​  @elle14-blog1​ @justsebstan​ @littlelightnings​ @psychomanniac-blog​  @happyt0exist​   @emmabarnes​  @bethyruth​ @matchat3a​  @cjand10​   @getwellsoontana​  @cherryschaos​   @lokisasgardianvampirequeen​  @ashenc-blog​  @buckybarnessimpp​   @potatothots​  @goldylions​  @high-functioning-lokipath​ @morganemorganite-blog​  @kingfleury​   @peaches1958​   @spiderman-stilinski​   @peaceinourtime82​  @gublur​   @wintersmelodie​ @geeky-politics-46​   @lolawassad​  @almosttoopizza​   @a-poor-gryffindork​ @alternativeprincess​   @buckycallsmeaslut​    @kamaria-sweet-writes​  @charmedbysarge​    @xnorthstar3x​  @kryoee7​ @alina02​  @gh0stgurl​    @polishprincess999​ @jessybarnes​ @alltheficsiwant​ @chemtrails-club​  @eralen​   @perdidosbucky-yyo​  @clqrosmgc​      
1K notes · View notes
Text
ice ice baby masterlist
Tumblr media
pairing: CollegeHockeyPlayer!Bucky x CollegeFigureSkater!Reader
summary: Bucky is a college hockey player, Y/N is a figure skater without a partner. What's happens when these two opposites start sharing the ice...
warnings: enemies to lovers trope, some alcohol use
a/n: new series coming at you! I've been working on and perfecting this one for a while so I'm excited to finally post a little teaser for you all.
series playlist
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
chapter five
chapter six
chapter seven
chapter eight
chapter nine
chapter ten
739 notes · View notes
hazywrites · 9 months
Text
Bucky I'm In Love With My Best Friend
Chapter 3
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You are hopelessly in love with your best friend, James Buchanan Barnes, and it's clear he feels something for you, too. So between stolen kisses and hookups, drunken calls and flirty banter, why can't you talk about it? What even is "it"?
Warnings: Nothing so far, maybe slight angst?
Words: 2,051
Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48220744/chapters/121643431
Chapters 1 & 2
Chapter 4
Chapter Notes: I couldn't get him out of my head, you guys, so here is a short little chapter. I love you guys! I hope you like it; let me know what you think!
Tumblr media
“Are we going to the Met again?” Bucky asked, his breath visible in the still-cool March air.
“Stop guessing,” you scolded. “I told you I won’t answer.”
“Yeah, but you’re easy to read so I can figure it out by your lack of response.”
“That’s just unsportsmanlike,” you huffed. Bucky’s answering laugh made your heart melt a little.
“Don’t pout.”
“I won’t pout if you don’t guess.” You eventually came to a stop in front of the steps of the Met, hesitantly turning to look at Bucky. He doubled over laughing at your defeated expression, the sight almost worth having your surprise ruined.
“You just want to listen to me info-dump about the Renaissance to you again, don’t you?” He teased. Yes, you thought.
“No,” you replied, shooting him a baleful look. “I came to eat the oil paintings.” He rolled his eyes but cracked a grin, following you up the steps where you flashed your Student IDs to the front desk. You led him upstairs and down corridors, ignoring his questions along the way. Your heart quickened in your chest as you wondered how he would feel about the surprise.
Finally, you happened upon the room you were looking for. You and Bucky had been here before, but it had been changed around to make space for the new display. Art of World War II. You watched nervously as Bucky looked around, his eyes drinking in the sight. Excitement sparkled in his eyes and he slowly broke into a wide grin.
“Happy birthday, Bucky,” you said softly.
“Y/N, seriously? This is amazing. I love it,” he breathed, unable to tear his eyes away from the art on display.
“I knew you’d like it! Your two hyper-fixations in one.” You wore a small, private smile at the victory. He turned and pulled you into a crushing hug, your heart swelling at the contact.
“You’re the best,” he breathed into your hair.
“I didn’t do anything,” you giggled. “The Met is free. I’m actually just being cheap like you now.”
“Shut up,” he laughed, pulling away slightly but not quite letting you go yet. “It’s still special. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” you replied softly. He pulled away to admire the art, reading off the labels and throwing in his own knowledge as he explained each piece to you. It was his birthday, but it felt like you were the one receiving a gift.
75 notes · View notes