Tumgik
#bucky barnes x reader idiots in love
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
jen-with-a-pen · 17 days
Text
Tumblr media
❀ 𝑯𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒚𝒔𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒆 – 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ❀
❀ SUMMARY ❀ Ooey-gooey, fluffy snapshots looking into the lives of one Bucky Barnes and Honeysuckle, who have more chemistry than the experiments in Bruce Banner'e lab. Everyone else knows it... except them. It's not without a little help– from Sam 'Certified Wingman' Wilson– do Bucky and Honey begin to realize and figure out their feelings for one another.
❀ PAIRINGS ❀ Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
❀ WARNINGS ❀ Tooth-rotting fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, idiots in love, everyone knows they like each other except them, Avengers live in the Tower, Sam Wilson is a good wingman, touching, mutual pining, domestic avengers, maybe like a tad angst but not much, softness, mild to moderate language (includes cursing), lots of feel-good feelings, no use of y/n, no description of y/n besides maybe outfits but it's still vague
Read this fic on AO3! currently in the process of formatting and will be coming soon to ao3!
header + warning banner by me ❤ dividers by @saradika-graphics
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
This series is nonlinear and each part can be read separately!
Spam liking will result in an automatic block!
❀ I – The "Not-Date" Date
❀ II – Another Time
❀ III – Sunset Spot
❀ IV – Think Pink
❀ V ❀ VI ❀ VII
157 notes · View notes
urdepressedslut · 1 year
Text
More than friends
♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: You are eager to help Bucky prepare for a date, but he would rather stay home with you.
♡ Warnings: light angst, fluff (idiots in love)
Tumblr media
Bucky watched as she paced around, listing off date ideas.
“A carnival would be so romantic— do we have any carnivals around here?” She paused, scratching her head. “Never mind, maybe a relaxing walk… OH— A picnic!”
She faced Bucky, waiting for his reaction to what she thought was a brilliant idea.
Bucky just shrugged, not giving her the feedback she had wanted.
“Doll, I appreciate you but… I don’t know…” He trailed off, causing her to frown.
“Buck don’t be nervous, Leah is super sweet.”
“I’m not nervous, I just… Its…” He mumbled, trying to find the right words, but the way she was looking at him, so eager to get him to this date. He wondered if it was possible that she’d feel the same way.
He was crazy about her. But Bucky being well… Bucky. He never voiced how he felt, even though he wanted to. He assumed she didn’t feel the same about him, which hurt.
She seemed happy helping him plan for this date, which she planned. Bucky politely tried to say no to her idea, but he couldn’t bring himself to.
He liked seeing her happy, and if that meant going on dates she planned for him… Well, so be it.
“I’ll make sure you look handsome, not that you need help in that department.” She told him, going through his closet.
Bucky became flustered at her compliment, knowing she most likely didn’t mean it like that. But it affected him nonetheless.
"Handsome?" He questioned, making sure he'd heard her right.
"Duh, have you looked in the mirror?" She asked, looking at him like he was crazy.
Bucky didn't think it was possible for more blood to rush to his cheeks. Clearing his throat, he adjusted himself in his seat.
"You feeling a button-up or a long sleeved shirt?" She asked him, holding up the two options.
"Long sleeved." He answered too quickly.
"Buck, she won't judge you." She told him, trying to ease his anxiety about showing his metal arm.
"How do you know?" He asked, raising his brows.
"I don't know, but I know she's nice. It doesn't seem like something she'd do," She countered, "Besides the metal arm is hot."
Bucky's eyes widened at her confession, looking at her intensely. She seemed to realize what she had said, her cheeks turning scarlet.
"I- I mean... I was saying that your arm would look hot- Look good in a button-up... I mean I didn't- It's what I meant to say." She got out, stumbling over every other word. She felt embarrassed at what she had said.
She obviously adored Bucky, him being her entire world. She liked seeing him happy, and he seemed content when she would help him with dates. She had wished that it was her going on dates with him numerous times, but pushed the silly thought away. He'd never see her in that way, they were just friends.
Bucky's chuckle got her attention.
"You think my arm is hot?" He teased, loving the way she'd get flustered. He thought it was adorable.
"I mean't your arm would look good in the button-up."
"That's not what you said." He teased again.
"Are you feeling okay?" She asked, "Because thats definitely what I said."
"Are you feeling okay? You seem flushed Doll." He asked in mock concern.
"I feel perfectly fine. Now what you gonna pick?" She rushed out, wanting to change the topic.
Bucky wasn't having that, he wanted to know why she was getting all nervous all of a sudden. He had hoped it was because she might feel the same way. He had gotten courageous suddenly, wanting to confess how he felt.
"(Y/n)... I don't think I wanna go out." He started, not wanting to jump straight to the point.
She frowned, suddenly concerned that something was wrong. Her heart ached that he was possibly feeling anxious, and she wanted to be the one to reassure him.
"Oh Buck, what's going on?" She asked him softly, giving him her full focus.
He noticed her worried eyes, he didn't think it was possible to fall more in love.
"I've just changed my mind, I don't wanna go. I wanna stay here, with you." He told her, watching her expression switch from concerned to confused.
"Why? You don't like Leah? Thought you guys hit it off at Izzy's?"
"Doll, I was ordering a drink... And she works there." He corrected her, watching her cheeks go scarlet from slight embarrassment.
"Whatever, you guys would be good together."
"Why do you keep doing that?" He questioned.
"Doing what?"
Bucky narrowed his eyes at her trying to play dumb. Although deep down he found it adorable.
"You keep pushing me to go on dates- talk to girls. I'm starting to feel like you're trying to get rid of me." He teased, but felt insecure by his own words.
"No Buck it's not like that I... I just want..." She stumbled, "I was just trying to make you happy. You seemed happy when I would help you out, I'm sorry."
His heart thumped loudly, wishing he could pull her into his embrace. She was too compassionate for this world, her soul too pure.
"I was happy." He told her truthfully, causing her to furrow her brows in confusion.
"But you just sai-"
"I was happy because I was with you." He rushed out, "All that time we sat around as you listed off date ideas. When we'd go on long walks and you'd tell me about a new girl you thought I'd like. The hours you spent searching my closet for something I could wear for a date. I was happy because I got to spend time with you. I wasn't thinking about the girls you were throwing at me, I was only thinking about you."
"Oh." Was all she could say, the butterflies in her stomach becoming overwhelming.
His gaze was piercing, causing her to break eye contact. Fiddling with her fingers instead.
"You were thinking about me because... You uh..." She trailed off, feeling suddenly very vulnerable.
There was still a chance Bucky was speaking as a friend. She didn't know if she could take such rejection from him.
"Because I love you." He finally confessed. A weight feeling like it was lifted off his chest, while anxiety swarmed within him.
She was taken aback, and she almost couldn't believe what she had heard. Bucky loves me? It was too good to be true.
"You... You love me?" She whispered out, his confession leaving her breathless.
"Doll, you're my everything. I've loved you for awhile, and I never said anything because... You were always trying to set me up, and I just thought you didn't feel the same way." He spoke softly to her, noticing her glossy eyes.
He feared he may have ruined their friendship, by the looks of her teary eyes.
"Buck... I've liked- loved you for a long time... And I..." She paused, swallowing a sob. "I just didn't think you'd ever feel the same way."
Bucky's chest filled with warmth at her confession, and he couldn't believe someone as tainted as him, deserved someone like her. But he was selfish, and he wanted her.
"Doll, you're beautiful, brilliant and you have the best dad jokes. Why do you think I wouldn't fall for you? You're the only one I'll ever want."
"I'm not special Buck... I'm just... Basic. The dad jokes are all I've got." She tried to joke, but an escaping tear caught his attention.
Standing up and walking over to her, he reached up his flesh hand. Grabbing the side of her face, tilting her head up to where their eyes met. Gently his thumb wiped away the moisture, his thumb tracing all the way down to her quivering lip. Stopping there.
"You are incredibly special to me, (Y/n)." He spoke genuinely, her eyes shining with adoration.
She felt nervous under his intense gaze, the butterflies threatening to burst from her stomach. His touch causing her skin to heat up. They had stolen friendly touches here and there, but this was way more intimate.
"I don't really know how to do... Relationships... I don't wanna mess anything up." She whispered, her eyes dancing down to his lips real quick, then back up to his steel blue orbs.
"You're not gonna mess anything up." He chuckled, stroking her bottom lip.
"How are you so sure?"
"You could never mess anything up... Just please don't leave me." He told her, his eyes shifting down to her mouth when she wetted her lips.
"Well you're in luck then." She huffed out, sliding her hands around his waist, tugging on his lower back, pulling his front flush to hers.
"Why's that Doll?" He got out breathlessly, the feeling of her body pressed up against his, being too much for him.
"I don't think I could ever leave you," She told him, "I don't wanna live in a world without you in it."
A/N: thank you @foreverrandomwritings for beta reading <3
1K notes · View notes
kinanabinks · 2 years
Text
best friend
Tumblr media
18+
in the face of adversity, you make a tough decision.
Warning: Mob!Bucky x Best Friend!Reader, mature themes, angst, hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers, fluff.
continuation of play pretend
Series Masterlist
Tumblr media
Your fingers tap incessantly against the wooden tables on either side of the plush armchair you're sitting on. With quick, shallow breaths, you keep your eye on the horse portrait above the grand fireplace, fixating on it in an attempt to relax.
"Would you stop that? Jeez, you're stressing me out."
You turn your head to the source of the irritated voice, your right eye twitching as you let out a shaky sigh. "My life has been repeatedly fucked up the ass for the past twenty-four hours," You tell him with a glare. "So no, Eddie, I will not stop that."
He rolls his eyes, sitting back on the couch. "God, where the fuck is Barnes?"
"That's what I wanna know!" You exclaim, itching to see Bucky. With a huff, you stand up and turn to Eddie's butler, Smitt. "Do you know where James is? He promised he wouldn't be long."
"Yes, ma'am, his car is pulling in as we speak," Smitt informs you while Eddie leaves the room. "May I offer you a refreshment? Some tea, maybe some-"
"Fairy!" A heart-wrenchingly familiar voice calls out from the doorway, making you gasp.
Immediately, you run over to Bucky and practically jump into his arms, holding onto him tightly. "Oh, my God, Jamie," You cry, feeling a thousand times better in his presence. "Why did you take so long?"
"I'm sorry, baby, I had to sort something out," He apologizes against your neck. "I'm here, now. I've got you."
"I don't understand why we're here," You tell him, pulling back and looking up at him. "Why did we run, Buck? Guilty people run, and I'm not guilty."
His lips part as he stares down at you, conflict swimming in his eyes as he tries to decide how best to break it to you.
"Jamie?" You whisper, feeling your heart race. "I'm not... I'm not guilty."
Taking a deep breath, Bucky places his hands on your waist. "Fairy," He begins lowly, putting you on edge. "Your name and identification were used on a few... less than legal documents."
Your stomach drops as your eyes widen. "James-"
"It wasn't me; you know I'd never, ever put you in danger or use you like that," He clarifies firmly. "Uncle Jack used your name to open an offshore bank account."
"What?" You spit, utterly baffled. "Shit. An offshore account?" Thinking on it, you shake your head. "I mean, I can talk my way out of trouble, if that's all he did."
Your words make Bucky grimace. "That's not all," He admits regretfully. "The money was traced, and they found receipts from a Colombia-Miami coke runner. With your name written all over every single transaction."
The words escape you, and you remain silent with shock. All you want is to wake up in Bucky's arms and for this to have all been a terrible nightmare, but a part of you knows that that's wishful thinking.
"Trust me, fairy; if I knew Jack was even thinking of involving you, I'd have ripped his fuckin' head off before he had the chance," Bucky says, his jaw clenching as rage fills his eyes.
Having thought it over, you nod slowly. "I'm gonna die in prison," You conclude bluntly.
"You are not gonna die in prison," He counters sternly. "You are not going to prison, full stop."
"No, she's right, and you'll be right there with her," Eddie calls out suddenly as he reenters the room. "I've heard Rikers Island is lovely this time of year."
Bucky turns to glare at him. "Shut the fuck up, Brock."
"Hey, now!" Eddie exclaims. "I'm giving you a place to hide out; you should be a lot more grateful to me."
"It's my first offense, so I could only get five years," You go on to say blankly. "But I'll most likely get up to forty."
He reaches for your hand. "Fairy-"
"Cocaine is a schedule two drug; I could be fined millions," You continue as your breaths grow quicker and more shallow. "Mr. Stark is gonna be so disappointed in me-"
"Y/N, will you shut up?" Bucky cuts you off sternly, grabbing your shoulders and glaring down at you. "Do you really think I'd ever let any of that happen to you?"
Letting out a shaky breath, you swallow thickly. "You let this happen to me."
"I didn't know what Jack was doing," He tells you. "I- you trust me, don't you?"
As your vision blurs, you nod. "I do, Jamie. I do trust you, but I'm so scared."
"Then trust that I'm going to fix this," He says firmly. "Don't you know who I am? I'm going to fix this."
Deciding to let yourself believe him, you sigh. "Okay. Okay."
Bucky pulls you into a tight hug, before pulling back and kissing your forehead. "I am so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry. But you know me. You know who I am, and you know I can fix this."
"How?" You whisper with wide eyes.
He takes your hand in his, holding it tight. "You remember Cagey, don't you?"
Narrowing your eyes, you sniffle. "You mean Luke? From Hawaii?"
"Yeah, baby, Luke from Hawaii," Bucky confirms. "He knows people. People high up."
"Who?" You press.
"Important people," He adds. "People who can exonerate you."
His words make your stomach flip. Instinctively, you move closer to him. "Exonerate me?"
"They'll make it like nothing ever happened," He promises you. "Not a smudge on your criminal record. No media - nobody will know. Not even Stark."
"He has people high up, too," You mutter.
"Not as high as my guys," Bucky claims. "This is going to remain quiet. I swear to you, fairy. Ever since we met, I've promised to protect you. Nothing bad could ever touch you. Jack slipped through the cracks and hurt you under my nose, and never again will I let that happen."
"Why me?" You ask him. "Why did he use me like that?"
He shakes his head with a pained look on his face. "Because he could. I wasn't careful enough - I didn't... I didn't protect you the way I was supposed to."
"This isn't your fault, Jamie," You say, wrapping your arms around him. "He's your uncle. It isn't your fault that he betrayed your trust. Our trust."
"Alright, enough of the sappiness," Eddie interjects, clapping his hands together. "You've overstayed your welcome. Get moving. I don't want the feds swarming my home."
With a sigh, Bucky rubs his forehead. "Fairy, go to the car. Sam's waiting out there."
"Okay," You whisper before leaving the two men alone.
"What's the deal with you two?" Eddie asks him with a raised brow. "She your girl, or what?"
While taking out a wad of cash from his pocket, Bucky hands it over to him and huffs. "She's my fuckin' wife."
Meanwhile, just as you step foot outside, your phone rings. Bucky instructed you not to pick up any unknown callers, but when you see Stark's name on your screen, you know you have no choice.
"Mr. Stark, I'm so sorry," You immediately apologize. "There's been a family emergency and I wasn't able to come in to work, but I should've called-"
"Did you really think you'd get away with it?" He cuts you off coldly, making your stomach flip. "I mean, an offshore account and illegal imports from Columbia? What the fuck were you thinking?"
With a thudding heartbeat, you feel your world slowly collapsing around you. "I... Mr. Stark, I know what it looks like, but-"
"I don't care what the truth is, Y/N, the fact that you're caught up in bullshit like this at all is bad enough," He spits harshly. "I told you all those years ago that being involved with Barnes was a bad idea."
"He's the one helping me!" You claim. "I'm innocent, Mr. Stark, and he's the only one helping me out of this mess."
"And I'd bet my fucking net worth that he's the reason you're in this mess, too," He says with a cold tone, before sighing. "Look, Y/N, I like you. I really do. You're a great lawyer, but I warned you that a man like Barnes would only ever ruin your life. You can't have it both ways; you're either 100% clean, or you're involved with people like him. There's no middle ground. No gray area. You're fired."
Your heart skips a beat. "What?"
"What were you expecting?" He questions you with a scoff. "I can't have my name involved with shit like this. I run a legit firm, unlike your boyfriend, and I can't have my clients finding out that one of my lawyers is a drug-dealing criminal."
"But I'm not," You tell him desperately. "I was framed, Mr. Stark! My name's gonna be cleared soon, and-"
"And I'm sure that'll hardly be through legal means, either," He mutters bitterly, before sighing. "This is a sensitive industry. One black mark next to your name and you're done. I can't have you being my black mark, Y/N. I'm sorry. Goodbye."
When he hangs up, you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Feeling nauseous, you take a few staggered steps to the car, where Sam is standing with a concerned look on his face.
"Are you alright?" He asks, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Do you need anything?"
Looking up at him, allowing the familiarity of his face to comfort you, you sigh. "Just a hug."
Sam's happy to provide, knowing what you've been through over the past 24 hours, and pulls you into a tight embrace. You press your face into his chest, allowing him to hide you away from the brunt of the world for just a few peaceful moments. He strokes your hair, soothing you with his calm, predictable presence.
Some minutes pass and you pull away, taking in a deep breath. "I'll be okay," You state firmly, not sure if you're trying to assure him or yourself.
"You'll be okay," He confirms, patting your shoulder. "We've got you, Y/N. Always got your back."
You give him a gracious smile just as Bucky walks out of the house, an urgency in his gait. "We're going back to the airport; we'll lay low in Romania while the situation is taken care of," He tells you, his face softening when he sees you. "Everything alright, fairy?"
Unable to fake a smile, you shrug. "Fine. Let's go," You mutter before opening the back seat of Sam's car and getting in.
Ten minutes into the silent drive, you receive a text message.
T. Stark
You'll receive your severance by the end of the week. Let me know if there's any issues.
Don't let Barnes be your black mark, kid. You could have a bright future ahead of you.
You turn off your phone instantly, wincing.
Ever since you met him, you thought Bucky could only ever make your life better. He introduced you to a life of luxury, took you to countries you'd never even heard of, and vastly improved your self-confidence. You wouldn't be the woman you are today without having met him all those years ago.
But as you look at yourself in the rearview mirror, you frown. Is the woman you are today all that great?
Accused of drug trafficking, running around with criminals, escaping the police.
Maybe you wouldn't have travelled as much as you did without Bucky. Maybe you wouldn't know all the different types of caviar and how expensive a wine is just by the color of the label. Maybe your life would be boring and predictable, and safe.
Maybe Pietro wouldn't be six feet under the ground and you'd be married to him.
You look back up at the rearview mirror. You meet Bucky's eyes. In them, you see everything. His concern, his personality, his love. But you see the darker side, too. The cruelty, the coldness, the ability to do anything to get what he wants.
Are you afraid of that? Or do you envy it?
"What are you thinking of, fairy?" He asks you with a mumble, pulling you from your thoughts.
Instead of answering him, you turn your head to look out the window at the countryside hills. Two horses occupy a large field, one black and one white. The black one, larger in size, runs around the grass, majestic and powerful, commanding your attention with his sleek fur and well-kept mane. The white teeters while he runs circles around her, keeping her eyes on him. The car passes by the field. You crane your neck to get one last glance at them, to see that the white horse has joined the black. They run together, but not in race, or chase. In solidarity.
"Fairy?" Bucky whispers, turning to look at you with a frown. He reaches his hand out to you, hoping it isn't obvious that he desperately needs you to take it.
It is obvious to you, though. So, you take it and you hold it tight.
Tumblr media
The skies of Romania are prettiest at sunrise. The Brasov skyline is vastly different to that of New York, with beautifully green trees overlooking the small buildings. From where you're sitting on the hill outside Bucky's childhood home, the mountains in the distance look to be a dark blue, with a thick slice of yellow sky just above them. The grey clouds fill most of the space, with small cracks of orange peeking through and teasing you with their beauty.
The sharp sound of porcelain on rock almost makes you jump. Turning to the side, you see Bucky sitting down next to you.
"Friganele," He tells you, nodding down at the plate of French toast with a blueberry jam on top. "Not as good as ma used to make, but Tanti does a pretty good job."
The two of you eat in silence, the cool breeze relaxing you. You've never felt so safe as you do now; as underwhelmed and calm. And, looking over at Bucky, you'd say the same for him.
"I've never seen you look so beautiful," You admit lowly. A loose, white, half-buttoned shirt adorns his chest, along with a comfy pair of trousers. His complexion is healthy, his beard is thick, and his eyes are conflict-free. "You should come here more often."
"We should," He says, linking his fingers with yours.
Another silence takes its place between you, as the sun begins to show itself through the clouds. You move the plates to the side before scooting closer to Bucky, allowing him to rest his arm around your shoulders.
"I don't like how I felt," You begin to say, clearing your throat before continuing. "When you told me what Uncle Jack did. I didn't like the way it made me feel."
Bucky's brows furrow together but he says nothing, wanting you to further explain.
"I don't want to be a liability," You tell him firmly. "I don't wanna be a target."
He feels a crack in his chest, but he remains composed, nodding. "I understand," He utters lowly. With a deep breath, he pulls you in closer, holding you tight, bracing himself to hear you say the words that will kill him. Preparing himself to hear you say that you can't be a part of his life anymore.
"I want to join your family," You say bluntly. "I mean, truly join."
His head spins. "Huh?" Is the only thing he can let out.
"I want be a part of your family. A real part," You elaborate. "I want to be involved in the things you haven't even told me about yet."
Bucky lets out a sigh, one of relief and yet, unease. "Fairy."
"I don't want to be seen as a weak link," You say curtly. "I don't want to be Bucky Barnes' Achilles heel. I want to be a real part of your family; I want to be all in."
"Just think about this, Y/N," He says sternly. "This is big. It's life-changing. You can still choose to have no part in this."
"I've been thinking about it all week. I can't be a lawyer anymore, but I can be your unofficial legal advisor. I can cook the books, I can fake papers; I can do anything with the right training," You tell him confidently. "Don't underestimate me."
"I'm not underestimating you, but it's dangerous," He warns you.
"So is being involved with you at all," You say with a scoff. "I'd rather be all in than simply hanging off your arm. It's impossible to keep one foot in each world, so just let me live in yours, wholly."
He rubs his face, looking out to the sunrise. With the reflection of the yellow sky in his eyes, he nods. "Okay."
"Okay?" You repeat, wondering if he means it.
"Yes," He confirms, before turning to you with a defiant look. "But not until you marry me."
You're taken aback. Amidst the chaos and fear, you completely forgot the final conversation the two of you had before the police interrupted. Having not put any thought to it, all you can do is stare at him, wide-eyed.
He takes your hand and holds it close to his chest. "If we're doing this, if you wanna be all in, you're doing it as my wife."
You frown, feeling you heart race. "I don't want you to marry me just for convenience, or because you feel like you have to."
"Convenience? I love you, fairy, and you know you love me," Bucky states firmly, glancing down at your hand. "Marry me because I'll always love you, through anything life may throw at us. Marry me because nobody will ever come before you. Marry me because you're my best friend."
Your eyes pool with tears.
"You're still wearing the ring. Everything we said a week ago still stands," He tells you earnestly, cupping your cheek with his hand and stroking it gently. "We've been engaged since the night we met, without having to say a word. You've always been mine, and I've always been yours. Let's make it official."
Looking at him, you know there's no feeling you'd rather chase than the feeling of being loved by him. Cherished by him. Protected, wanted, needed by him. You look down at the ring, and you smile. You smile knowing there's no life you'd rather live than a life by Bucky's side. You smile knowing that he is, and will always be, your best friend.
Tumblr media
side blog for update notifications: @kinanabinksupdates
buy me a kofi <3
3K notes · View notes
holylulusworld · 1 year
Text
Deranged Marriage (9) – Two tidal waves
Tumblr media
Summary: Your father wants you to choose a husband. Your chosen one doesn’t like the idea one bit.
Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x (Mafia daughter)! Reader
Characters: Steve Rogers, Alexander Pierce
Warnings: mentions of character’s death, language, strong/bratty reader, banter, sexual tension, enemies with sexual tension, making out, still idiots in love, hand around throat (non-sexual), threats, implied torture with knives
Deranged Marriage masterlist
<< Part 8
Tumblr media
“Fucking hell, get it over with, James Buchanan Barnes. You’ve got a dick and she got…uh whatever that bitch is hiding under her cheap fake designer clothes,” you argue with Bucky again.
You cross your arms over your chest, huffing as Bucky refuses sex with Natasha. This is to make it more believable that he’s on her side.
“I don’t want to,” he bites back. Bucky points out that the same applies to you as well. “I’m not some breathing dildo you can use for your liking.”
“Yeah, but not so long ago you loved to fuck her on our dining table so,” you cock your head, “what’s the problem? Can the old man not get it up anymore? Do you need Viagra? I can ask Helen to get you some.”
“You fucking brat,” he growls in your direction. “One day I’ll put you over my lap and spank the life out of your bratty ass. You are frustrating and annoying.”
“Asshole.”
“I should just,” he throws his hands up, “leave you to yourself. I have no idea why I’m helping you. A bullet to my brain would be less painful."
“I can’t believe you are ruining our chance to bring the people attacking my father down over a quickie. Just put it inside a little and disappoint her like every other girl you fucked.”
“That’s what you want? How about you watch me fuck her too, huh? I bet you are a kinky bitch." He smirks at you. “Go ahead and tell me about all the dirty fantasies you have about me and my sex life.”
“You mean your non-existent sex life,” you retort, mirroring his smirk. “I heard through the grapevine that you didn’t get any lately.”
“Because of you,” he’s in your face, breathing hard. “Every woman in town believes we will marry and they are afraid of you and your father.”
“Aw, I’m cock blocking you?” you coo. “What a pity you refuse to fuck Natasha. Your dick would feel so much better after going for a ride with her.”
“I told you,” you gasp as his hand wraps around your neck. He grips your neck tightly, forcing you to look up at him. “I don’t want to fuck her.”
“Why? She’s your type.”
“Dead is not my type.”
You frown deeply. Just a few days ago Bucky and you talked about getting closer to the person who ordered the hit on you and your father through Natasha. “What do you mean by...dead?"
“Oh…did I forget to tell you she’s dead?” He smirks darkly as he watches your lips part.
“What? But we made all these plans and now…” You knit your brows together. "Wait, you killed her, didn’t you?”
“It was an accident,” Bucky leans closer to whisper in your ear. “Maybe I let slip that she’s a mole and that Natasha tried to warn your father. Pierce is no one to mess with, you know.”
“You—” you groan. “Why did you do this? That's stupid, Barnes. We had a plan.”
“Your plan included fucking Natasha.”
“Hell, I would’ve fucked her myself to get one step closer,” you huff. “You’re a coward, Barnes. Why couldn’t you fuck her…?”
“What’s done is done. I’m more of the hit them where it hurts guy. Not the one sneaking around to get information. While you made all these nice plans, Steve and I did your job.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We caught Pierce and two of his minions. Steve has a blast interrogating them. He just loves to toy with them,” Bucky purrs in your ear. His hand tightens around your throat, making you whimper. “If only you could see yourself now. So afraid I will choke you just a little harder.”
“We already confirmed that you are not man enough, sweetie,” you grit your teeth as he loosens his hold. It only takes Bucky's hand around your neck to show you what he can do. “Do it or stop toying with me.”
“You wish I would toy with you, doll,” he chuckles. “What a pity I won’t…”
Tumblr media
“Alexander Pierce, in all his glory,” Steve laughs as Pierce fights the ropes holding him to a chair. “You see, Y/F/N and Y/N are my allies. They are Bucky’s allies. If you attack them, you attack us.”
“The thing is, we will let you live your pitiful life. We all tried to kill each other at least once." Bucky looks at the knives he placed on a table in front of Pierce. “What I want from you is to tell me who was involved in the hit. Who is the rat among Y/F/N's people?”
“I won’t tell you shit,” Pierce spits while talking. Even though Steve has already roughed him up over the past few hours, he refuses to give up.
“We will see." Bucky chooses one knife and wields it in front of Pierce’s face. “Did you ever hear about my talent with knives? I just love the feeling of metal cutting into skin and flesh.”
Tumblr media
“Why won’t you let me interrogate him, Barnes?” You pace the room, huffing as Bucky refuses to answer. “Did he give you a name?”
“Romanoff was all he said,” Bucky huffs. “He’s a tough little bastard. I give him that. But no one withstood my knives forever. I will find the mole for you…I mean your father. I will find him for your father.”
“We already knew about Romanoff,” you grunt. “Why did you get her killed? This was stupid."
“Your face is stupid.”
You giggle at Bucky’s words. “Your face is stupid, and your beard…the hair…the muscles. Why are you always wearing a suit but no tie? That’s stupid too.”
When he grips your right arm roughly, he says, "I use all my ties to restrain brats. I leave them there for me to use.”
“You’re so…” you squeak when he roughly cups your face and crushes his lips to yours. Bucky devours your mouth. The kiss is all tongue and teeth. He won’t let up until you weakly push against his shoulders. “I can’t breathe, you…”
He silences your protests with his mouth again. Bucky keeps you from running your mouth by slipping his tongue into your mouth.
His hands move to your waistline to easily lift you and slam you into the wall behind you.
“What the fuck?" You can barely catch your breath. Bucky is all over you. He forces your legs around his waistline before his mouth is back on you. His hands grip your ass roughly as you grind against his swelling length.
“Shut up for a moment," he whispers against your lips. “Just stop talking. I only want to hear you moan my name from now on.”
Tumblr media
In response, you fist his hair, making him growl. “If you want me to shut up, do me good, Barnes…”
>>Part 10
Tags in reblog.
182 notes · View notes
crazyunsexycool · 1 year
Text
My little love
Chapter 4
pairing: Bucky Barnes x enhanced!reader
word count: 4.1k
Warnings: mentions of gunshot wounds, blood, shrapnel embedded in someone’s side, Bucky and Angel having quality daddy/daughter time, nightmares, child crying, Steve being cute
A/N: It’s here!!!! There is not a lot of reader in this chapter I wanted to focus more on Bucky and Angel. What name does Bucky choose??? I went back and forth a lot with the name because I honestly don’t think Bucky would choose a more modern name but I think it’s a good choice. Tell me what you think! Also I was very excited for you to see Bucky being a first time dad….
Series masterlist
Ch. 3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Why are you so loud?” You asked from the entryway to the living room. Hands on your hips and a scowl on your face as you glared at one of the two super soldiers that didn’t know what whispering meant. 
“We are talking names.” 
“Talking or yelling?” 
“I made coffee.” Bucky says as he stands in front of you, trying to change the subject. “Do you want some?” 
You were about to respond when giggles interrupted you. The sweet little giggles of none other than Angel. Leaning to the side to look behind Bucky you find Steve sitting on the floor, holding her hands as she stands in front of him. She was trying to find her balance but anytime Steve let go of her hands she’d fall down. She laughed again when her bottom hit the soft area rug in your living room. 
“Well now you’re just being silly.” Steve told her as he picked the giggling toddler up and had her stand looking in your direction. “Who’s that sweetheart?”
Her eyes lit up when she saw you and she immediately stretched her arms out so that you would pick her up.
“Good morning cutie, how are you doing today?” 
“I’m great, how are you?” Steve responded as you picked Angel up. You rolled your eyes before kissing her temple. Angel lays her head on your shoulder. 
“I’m not dealing with you until I’ve had my coffee, Rogers.” 
“Wow, you really are a grump in the mornings. Anyways, let me make breakfast now that you’re up.” 
You narrow your eyes at him and Bucky does the same from behind you. Steve gives you an awkward smile as he walks past. Both you and Bucky follow him to the kitchen.
“You rarely make me any food. What’s going on?” 
“Yeah punk, What’s up with you?” 
“I tried to keep you out as long as I could but I need you for a mission Y/N. Two days tops.” He says after turning to look at you. 
You frown slightly before looking between Bucky and Angel, your hold tightening slightly on the latter. 
“I’ll go.” Bucky offers.
“Sorry Buck but we need her abilities.”
“It’s ok, It’s my job.” You say as you turn to him and smile. “Who else is going?”
“Nat, Sam and Clint.” 
“Good, you can both watch this sweet girl.” You say you pull back and look at her. Your voice gets higher when you talk to her. “Are you going to have so much fun with Steve and daddy?”
Bucky stiffened slightly at being called dad.  You look up at him slightly embarrassed.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean-“
“No it’s ok, I’ll get used to it.” He says in a small voice.
“She can call you something else.” 
“No it’s ok really. She can call me dad if she wants to.” 
“And what do we call her? You said you were talking about names.”
Steve turns back around and starts pulling ingredients out of the fridge and cabinets. 
“Well let’s see,” Bucky says as he pulls a small notebook out of his sweatpants pocket. “I have Beatrice, Eleanor, Josephine, Lydia, Frances and Vivian. What do you think?” 
“You know you only have to pick one, maybe two.”
“You don’t like any of them?”
You gave him an awkward smile as you moved to set Angel down in her booster seat.  
“Well, she is your daughter so you get to choose. They’re lovely names, she just doesn’t look like those names.” 
“What is that supposed to mean?” Steve asked from the stove.
“It means you look like a Steve, Bucky looks like a Bucky and I look like a Y/N. The name has to fit her.”
Bucky hummed and then frowned slightly. He never thought a name could be so complicated.
“Is there a name you like?” 
“Not any of those.” You mutter under your breath. 
“I heard that.” 
“Oops.” You said with a smile. 
“Agent Y/LN, your presence is being requested in conference room 302.” Friday announced. 
“Is it urgent Friday?” 
“Yes, your mission has been moved up, you’re needed in order to start the briefing.” 
“Please let them know I’ll be down in 10 minutes.” 
“Yes ma’am.” 
You kiss Angel’s forehead and head to your room to change out of your pajamas. 
“Ok , hopefully I’ll see you before I leave. Sorry I can’t have breakfast Steve.” 
“I’ll make you some when you get back from the mission.” He smiles at you. 
“I’ll hold you to it.” You head toward the living room with Bucky following close behind. 
“If you have to leave right after please be careful.” 
“I will,” you kiss his cheek. “If you need help with Angel, Jenna and Ivy in the medical wing can help.” You say before you head out. 
Tumblr media
The jet was ready to go. The team of four had packed up everything they would need for the two day trip and set it by the ramp of said jet. While Clint and Sam did some preflight checks Nat stood by you as you said goodbye to sweet Baby Barnes as she clung to you unaware that she wouldn’t see you for at least two days. Her little fingers played with the straps of your Kevlar vest and she pursed her lips as she concentrated with the task at hand. Bucky and Steve walked your way as you and Nat discussed something about the mission. 
“Did you pick a name yet?” Is the first question you asked once Bucky stood in front of you.
“No,” he shook his head slightly as he looked at the small notebook in his hand. “This is a big deal, I can’t name her something stupid.” 
“Samantha is a good name.” Sam calls out as he picks up your bags.
“Again, I said nothing stupid.” 
“Wow, you talk like that in front of your daughter? You’re lucky she’ll learn her manners from Y/N.” 
Nat and you chuckled at the banter but Steve pinched the bridge of his nose already exasperated with the back and forth. 
“Come on You’re not even close to picking a name yet? What if I leave and never come back?” You meant it as a joke but the mood shifted quickly.
 Steve took Angel from you after you placed a quick kiss on her forehead. Nat said her own quick goodbye before getting on the jet leaving you alone with Bucky. His expression was unreadable as he looked toward his daughter. 
“Don’t say things like that.” 
“It was just a joke, Buck.” 
“Well it wasn’t funny.” He finally looked at you, finding you looking away. “I’m sorry I just- the thought of losing you is unbearable. Besides, I need you.” 
Your eyes snapped up meeting his. 
“And so does Joann.” You grimace at the name. “Yeah, I didn't think so either.” He scratches the name off the list with a pen. “I’ll have a name by the time you get back ok?” 
“Ok, take care of yourself while I’m gone.” You say as you wrap your arms around his waist. 
“What about Angel?” 
“If you take care of her the way you take care of me I know she’ll be fine. Just don’t forget her-“
“Pink bear, I know. And I already spoke with Jenna and Ivy although I’m gonna do as much as I can on my own.” Bucky finishes your sentence as he wraps an arm around your shoulder. He places a kiss in your hair. “Please be careful.”
“I will. See you in two days.”  
You walk up the ramp with a final wave to the three of them. Clint hits the button to close the jet as you begin to hear Angel cry. Clint stands besides you as you look through one of the windows at Steve trying to calm her down. 
“Trust me kid, it doesn’t get easier.” He pats your back before turning to the cockpit. 
Tumblr media
“It’s ok sweetheart, mama will be back soon.” Steve cooed softly as if his words were meant for her ears only. It didn’t work though and Angel held her arms out and made grabby hands in hopes that you would appear before her and take her into your arms, where she was safe. When that didn’t work she turned to Bucky. 
”Don’t cry,” Bucky tells her as he takes her from Steve. “I’m scared too. But you know what? We’re going to be just fine.” 
He heads back into the living section of the compound and up to your apartment where you left everything set up for him. Steve followed closely behind making silly faces at the crying child in hopes of calming her down. The only thing that worked was actually being back in your apartment. It was familiar to her and she was safe. It didn’t take long for her to start yawning and rubbing her eyes, a clear sign it was time for her nap. Steve was gone and it was up to Bucky to get the tired toddler down for said nap. He walked to the room you’d chosen for her and pulled out his phone to play some music in hope it would help Angel fall asleep.
 A slow song from the 40s fills the room and Bucky hums along as he sways from side to side. Angel slowly but surely rested her head against his shoulder. 
“What about Loretta?” He peaks down at the child in his arms but she’s still fighting sleep. “No, not that one. Hhmm, Norma? Nah, I don’t like that one.” Bucky continued to list names and sway around the room until Angel finally fell asleep. He laid her down in the crib and covered her with the pink blanket before heading back out into the living room. 
He plopped down on your couch and as he looked around the room, Bucky couldn’t help but think of what it would be like if you and him were in a relationship. He practically lived in your apartment anyway and now so did his daughter. Up until this point you had stepped up to help care for her. It’s something you didn’t need to do and yet all the conversations he’d had with Steve about you having feelings for him came back. Bucky didn’t doubt that you would offer help to anyone, especially a child that needed it but he couldn’t deny that the way you took care of his daughter was different. It was as if she was your own and that warmed his heart, because Angel trusted you more than anyone. 
So with thoughts of you and his daughter Bucky relaxed into the couch and soon enough he fell asleep too.
Tumblr media
Bucky sat up panting and disoriented. He hadn’t had a nightmare yet he could hear crying. It was the most bloodcurdling scream he’d ever heard. He looked around to realize he was in your apartment and at the sight of a doll on your couch he remembered he had put his daughter down for a nap. It was her cries that woke him up and he ran toward her room thinking someone was hurting her. He was somewhat correct. She was being hurt but only by her nightmares. She laid in the crib tossing and turning and crying bloody murder. Bucky panicked, unsure of what to do. He kept muttering to himself what would you do in this situation, if it were you here instead of him. Then he thought back to all the times he’d shown up to your place after a nightmare. He was always comforted by your touch, maybe he could provide the same for her.
Bucky bent over the railing of the crib and as gently as he could he grabbed Angel and laid her against his chest. His heart stopped when he watched her flinch at his touch but he knew it was just because of the nightmare. 
“You’re ok, doll. I’m right here. I’ll keep you safe.” He cooed softly as he walked out to the living room again. 
Her eyes didn’t open but her cries died down a bit. Still a small whimper here and there, a little tremble of her chin and lower lip kept him on edge. 
“C’mon doll you gotta wake up for me.” He used his left hand to wipe away the tears, hoping the cool metal would maybe soothe the crying toddler. Bucky kept his eyes on her face the entire time. He studied every movement and twitch until Angel’s eyes started to flutter and finally she looked at him. She hides her face in his chest and Bucky can feel the fresh tears being soaked up by his shirt. As long as she’s awake Bucky doesn’t mind one bit. He just holds her close while he rubs soothing circles on her back and finally allows himself to calm his own heart, it’s a miracle it didn’t pop out of his chest. 
When Bucky finally moves her away from his chest to get a good look at her his heart drops. She’s almost frozen in place. Angel’s gaze is unfocused and it’s as if she’s reliving something traumatic. His little girl starts to cry again and it would be several hours before he gets her to calm down.
Tumblr media
Fresh air and sunshine. Bucky had decided that his daughter hadn’t had enough of it. So once he managed to feed her and change her diaper, with the help of Jenna, he decided to go on a walk. It was supposed to be simple. Take the stroller and sit Angel down. Except he couldn’t get the stupid stroller opened, he didn’t even know that was a thing. So he stood by Steve’s office with a closed stroller, a toddler and a bag with some extras in it, in hopes that his best friend could help him out. 
Steve couldn’t. 
It wasn’t until another agent walked by with some documents meant for Steve that they learned how to unfold the damned thing. He quickly showed them how to open and close the stroller before walking back the way he came. 
With Angel strapped in, Bucky moved through the halls of the compound until he was finally outside. Bucky could see Angel’s head move from side to side as she took in everything around her. It was nothing special but he was sure she had never been outside in her short life. So trees and flowers and grass seemed like the most amazing things in the eyes of the three year old. Bucky pushed the stroller around for a while until he found a nice shady tree to sit under. He pulled out a blanket he had brought with him and laid it out before unbuckling his daughter and setting her down. 
“Ok doll, C’mere.” After he settled down he opened the backpack he had packed and pulled out a book. He sat her down in his lap and flipped the book open and he began to read out loud. 
Tumblr media
You had left little post-it notes here and there to help Bucky. A list of favorite snacks on the fridge, her nap times and favorite toys in her room. In the bathroom mirror there was a post-it of what temperature the water should be and what products he should use when it was bath time. Anytime he found one he reminded himself to do something special as a thank you when you got back. 
After giving his daughter a bath Bucky had grabbed her towel and wrapped her up before heading to her room. He opened the drawer you had mentioned that was full of pajamas and grabbed the first onesie and pajama pants he found. 
“Ok doll, let’s get you nice and dry and ready for bed.” Bucky said as he laid his sweet Angel down, dried her properly and put on a diaper.
 He reached over and grabbed the onesie and unfolded it, laughing once he realized what it said. A big you can do it dad sat in the middle in bold black letters while arrows labeled arms, head, legs and snap  surrounded it. Once he was done dressing her he took his phone out and managed to get a picture of her smiling to show you later. He had done that a lot during the day, taking pictures of her. Bucky justified it by saying they were for your benefit. Surely you’d miss her and would want to know what she was up to for two days. 
This routine would happen for not two days but four. And everyday Bucky got more anxious at the fact that you weren’t back yet. 
Tumblr media
Everyone had been on high alert at the end of the second day of your mission. There should have been communication that the mission had been completed and you were on your way back. Instead they were met with radio silence. Tony tried to locate all four phones but nothing. The jet couldn’t be located either. 
It wasn’t until the early morning of the fifth day when a commotion at the gated entrance of the compound that the rest of the team knew something went horribly wrong. Tony, Bruce, Wanda, Vision, Steve and Bucky, along with medical staff were all waiting once the ambulance was allowed in. Clint hopped out of the driver's side and rushed to the back to open the doors. It wasn’t a surprise to see him battered and bruised. The medical team rushed after him and took over whatever was happening. Bucky’s heart all but stopped once he saw Clint, Sam and Nat walk around the ambulance and towards the rest of the group. They all looked bad but they could walk. 
“Nat?” Bucky called out her name but she refused to look up at him. She felt guilty, he was sure of that. “Nat, what’s going-“ the words died on his tongue as the stretcher was finally pulled out. 
You were unconscious as they wheeled you by. There was blood not only on your uniform but on the stretcher, it was too much blood. Bucky could see the gunshot wounds and the cuts and scrapes before noticing the piece of shrapnel sticking out from your side. He didn’t realize he had started following you until he stopped in his tracks and turned to look at the other three. He was furious, why were you the only one on the verge of death while the three of them seemed completely fine by comparison. Steve stepped between Bucky and the rest of the team that had gone on the mission. It was clear to see that Bucky was ready to rip their heads off.
“Walk it off, and go get your daughter.” 
“But-“
“No buts, we don’t know what happened and they need to be checked out too. Once I talk to them I’ll let you know, now go.” Steve was stern and unmoving even Bucky tried to look around him. With a huff Bucky turned back in the direction of the building and disappeared inside. 
“Steve, it all happened so fast.” Sam offered but Steve put his hand up. 
“Go get checked out and cleaned up, we'll talk later.” 
Sam’s shoulders sag as he started walking away. It was obvious that whatever happened was difficult for everyone and the last thing they needed was to get yelled at. Steve and the others knew it would be a long day and they decided to keep them company or wait to hear news about you. 
Tumblr media
Bucky sat in the waiting room with Angel in his lap for hours. He wouldn’t move until he knew you were at least ok. That you would live to see another day but the doctors were taking forever. The rest of the team had been in and out waiting to hear anything but Bucky’s mood kept them at bay. After a while Steve finally showed up and silently took the toddler from Bucky. 
“So what happened?” 
“It was a setup from the beginning. The minute they got into enemy airspace the jet was under attack.” 
“Why didn’t they call for backup or turn around and come back?” 
“They were being attacked from all sides, signals were jammed. The jet was lost, the only reason any of them are still alive was because Y/N managed to slow down the descent of the plane.” Steve said as he bounced Angel on his leg. 
Bucky stood and began pacing. All he wanted was for you to be ok and then to find the assholes that did this. 
“There’s more,” Steve said, causing Bucky to stop and turn to him, he waited silently for the rest. “It seems like hydra planned this hoping to capture whoever had been sent on the mission with the intention of trading them.” 
“Trading them? For what?” 
Steve didn’t say anything, instead his hold tightened a little around the toddler on his lap and his eyes shifted from Bucky to Angel. The sound of whirling plates could be heard in the otherwise quiet room as Bucky clenched his fist. 
“Over my dead body.” Bucky said through gritted teeth. 
“Apparently over Y/N’s too.” Steve sighed. “Listen, from what Sam, Nat and Clint said there was nothing they could do. They fought as hard as they could and they even had to steal a plane to get back. It was Y/N that saved them and in the process she got hurt. But she’s here now and in the cradle, I’m sure she’ll be fine.” 
“I hope so.” 
A few minutes later Dr. Cho appears in the waiting room with news that you’re out of the cradle. Dr. Cho had said that you would be fine, after being in the cradle for that long you were sure to recover in no time but she wasn’t going to clear you for missions for a while. 
 She leads Bucky and Steve to your room and gives them some privacy. Bucky holds his daughter in one hand and opens the door slowly with the other. He was surprised to see you alert although it seemed you were moving slowly. Most likely due to the pain medication they had given you. Before anyone was able to say anything, Angel’s gaze fell on you. Bucky could tell something was wrong immediately due to how her body tensed and shortly after she began to cry. It was an intense, deafening type of cry that left them rooted in place. Steve quickly grabbed her and muttered that he’d stay outside to calm her down. You frowned, concerned at what could have happened.
“What’s wrong?”
“She’ll be ok.” Bucky said as he moved to sit next to you. “It’s the second time I’ve heard her cry like that though.” 
“You should go check on her, I’ll be fine.” 
“Are you sure?” 
“Of course.” 
“Ok.” He got up and kissed your forehead before walking back out. Even in the state you were in whatever was going on with Angel had you worried. You tried to fight off the need to sleep but whatever you had been given was stronger.
It must have been very late when you did finally wake up but you weren’t surprised to find Bucky sitting in the chair beside you. A book in his hand as he patiently waited for you.
“Buck.” You called out with a slightly gravelly voice. 
“Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Like shit.” You huffed out as you tried to sit up. Bucky moved to help you get more comfortable in the bed. “How’s Angel?” 
“She’s better now. I’m not sure what’s going on but Bruce said he’d run some tests.”
“Ok, good.” You frown slightly at the thought of her being hurt in some way or her being afraid of you.
“I have pictures of what we did these last few days. Wanna see them?” He asked in the hopes of distracting you for a while.
You nodded as Bucky pulled out his phone. The frown disappears from your face instantly as you scroll through the pictures. Bucky had taken pictures of her outside sitting on a blanket, multiple pictures of her sleeping soundly or with food all over her face. There were videos of her just giggling as she stood on her own and videos of her with Steve while he danced and sang along with Disney movies. It warmed your heart to see her so content and safe in the arms of her father. 
“Told you you’d do a good job.” 
“I know, but she missed you too. She kept pointing at your room almost silently asking for me to go get you.” 
“Sweet baby, I hope she’ll let me hold her once I’m out.”
“I’m sure she will.” He smiles at you.
“So…”
“So what?” He gave you a confused look.
“What is her name? Please tell me you picked something.” 
He smiles again and nods. “I did.”
“Ok and what is it?” You ask excitedly and he smiles.
“Charlotte Elise Barnes.” 
Ch. 5
Tumblr media
permanent taglist: @kunaikunari @rebekahdawkins @cjand10 @nalny5  @sturchling @angywritesstuff @seitmai @writing-for-marvel @goldylions @darkhairedmenrule @little--baby--bear @almosttoopizza @littleseasiren @teambarnes72
series tag list: @buckystevelove @vicmc624 @just-someone11
290 notes · View notes
Uh, Guys?
My Masterlist
Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader, Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Warnings: There Was Only One Bed, no smut (i know, rare for me these days), idiots in love. bi!reader, bc both bucky and natasha are hot and i’m so fucking gay. implied bi!natasha bc she also likes bucky. mentions of guns, shooting, blood, and medical supplies. nervous!reader. best friends to lovers x2. it’s just pretty fluffy
Word Count: 2417
Summary: You get put on a mission with both the infamous Winter Soldier and Black Widow to take down a Hydra base. You get shot and the extraction plan goes haywire but Tony knows a safe house. The only issue? There’s only one bed and you have a massive crush on both assassins.
**
“Okay, HYDRA missions are officially the worst.” You said into your comms, running through the halls, away from gunfire, towards the computer terminal. You threw the door closed behind you and quickly looked around for any agents or doors that could be used to attack you. Seeing that you were leaning against the only door, you grabbed a chair and shoved it under the doorknob.
“Are you okay, Y/N?” Natasha asked through the comms.
You nodded before remembering she couldn’t see you. “Ah, yea-um, maybe.” You said, plugging the USB in. “I’m in the room with the computer, but I’m pretty sure I got shot.”
“I’m on my way to you, Y/N.” Bucky said, jogging towards where he knew the terminal was.
“Don’t bother, I shoved a chair under the door so nobody can get in and I’m not moving it just for you to carry me out of here. I’m fine, I’m still standing, and- oh, okay, I’m bleeding more than I thought, but I’m fine.” You replied, downloading all of the files on the computer for Tony and FRIDAY to sort through later.
Bucky sighed audibly through the door, “Really, N/N? Let me in please, just so you don’t accidentally bleed out alone?” 
You checked the files to make sure they were downloading properly and moved the chair enough so you could open the door to make sure Bucky wasn’t being impersonated by a HYDRA agent. “What’s the password?” You asked, knowing that everyone on the team had a secret password with the other in case of something like this.
Bucky chuckled, rolling his eyes and leaning in the doorway slightly. “Monopoly.” You sighed dramatically and moved the chair out of the way, letting Bucky in. “You didn’t believe it was truly me?” He asked, dramatically offended.
“Buck, with the way technology is these days, they could probably clone you. Hell, the clone could know the code word and you’re not actually here with me, it’s an agent that’s gonna kill me.” You sat back down, continuously downloading their files and deleting them off the computer once you had them.
“Well, doll, you know that’s not it.” He said, leaning in the doorway to be able to watch you and the hallway.
You chuckled, watching the last of the files download. “Yeah, I know, but it could be.”
Bucky watched drops of blood continuously drip onto the floor. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look like you’re bleeding a lot.”
“I’m fine, Buck. This is not the first time I’ve been shot. It’s not important.” You said, pulling the USB out and turning to him.
“Where is it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
“My bicep is going to be fine.” You replied calmly, walking out of the room and jogging back towards where the three of you landed after parachuting out of the quinjet.
“Did you just try to convince me that your arm wasn’t important?!” Bucky shouted after you, jogging to catch up, the both of you running out of the building and to Natasha.
She raised an eyebrow at you and Bucky, motioning around to the empty clearing. “First of all, your arm is extremely important. Secondly, apparently, they booked more missions than extractions, so we have no way of getting home for the immediate future. Third, Tony has a safe house about 3 miles northeast of here, and he sent me the coordinates. Apparently we’re stuck together until at least morning.”
Bucky nodded at Natasha’s words and started walking northeast, you and Natasha following behind. You quickly fell into a rhythm of just following their footsteps as you got lost in your own head. It wasn’t that you were scared of Natasha or Bucky, not at all. You and Nat had been best friends for years, and Bucky was one of the only other people you would go to when you were feeling out of it. Your current issue was that you had feelings for them both, which had ruined your last relationship, since your ex-girlfriend figured out that she was not your priority. Cradling your arm to your chest, Natasha and Bucky finally realized you weren’t contributing to the conversation and turned to look at you.
“N/N?” Bucky asked softly, snapping you out of your trance. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” You said, sighing. “This just hurts a little more than I thought. How much further do you think it is?”
Nat smiled, laughing at you a little. “Darling, it’s been 10 minutes. We have a while to go.”
“It’s not still bleeding, is it?” Bucky asked again.
“No, the bullet lodged in my shoulder, so it’s not bleeding. Let’s just go, please? I’d really like to sit down.” You replied, walking past them in the direction you had all started in.
Natasha and Bucky gave each other a look before Bucky jogged over to you, picked you up bridal style, and kept jogging. Nat was jogging after the two of you, figuring that Bucky would want to get you to the safe house, stitched up and bulletless as soon as possible before your injury got any worse.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Twenty minutes of light jogging and your complaining that you could walk perfectly fine and Bucky didn’t need to carry you anywhere passed the time quickly, and before you knew it, the three of you were standing on the porch of the safe house. Natasha opened the door and allowed Bucky to take you inside. 
“Uh, guys? I may be hallucinating from blood loss, but there’s only one bed.” You said, tapping Bucky on the shoulder.
Natasha and Bucky shared a look, Bucky setting you down on the bed. “Tony did this on purpose.” She said, sitting next to you. “You know we’re gonna have to take your tac suit off to dress the wound, right?” 
“Yeah, I know.” You said, wincing. 
“Are you okay?” Bucky asked, cradling your arm as he slid it out of your sleeve.
“I’m just in a bit of pain, and I’m not wearing a shirt underneath this.” Bucky’s eyes widened. “It’s comfier without the shirt and the fabric crinkles weirdly, but I’m wearing a bra.” You reassured him. “You aren’t gonna see everything, Buck.”
“I’ll still feel better if Nat does it.” He said, shifting his weight between his feet.
Nat glanced between the two of you. “I can’t do that. I can’t stitch wounds, Buck. It has to be you, especially because that’s Y/N’s dominant arm.”
“Yeah, I can’t pull the bullet out and stitch my own wound shut this time, unfortunately.” You said, shrugging with your unwounded arm. “But if it would make you feel better, Nat can help me out of my suit. I’m wearing a pair of shorts and I’m sure that there’s an extra shirt around here somewhere that I can wear.”
“I can absolutely help you out of your suit, honey.” Nat said, reaching for the zipper.
Bucky averted his eyes, blushing, as Nat helped you out of the mission-necessary tactical suit. “I’m gonna go find the medical kit I know Tony must have in here, shout when you’re ready for me.” 
“Okay, Buck. Sure.” You said softly, wincing as your shot arm came out of the sleeve.
“Don’t mind his nervousness.” Nat said, moving towards the other shoulder. “He hasn’t really been with anyone since waking up from HYDRA and getting the trigger words taken out of his head. And I know he likes you, so that doesn’t probably make things better.”
Your eyes widened. “Bucky likes me?”
Natasha nodded quickly, “He’s not the only one. Do you have feelings for anyone?”
“I- um, yes? I just don’t want to say anything.” You said, averting your eyes from where Natasha was sliding your tac suit down your body.
“Why’s that?” She asked.
“I have feelings for more than one person. And I’m friends with them both and they’re friends.” You blurted out, feeling her hands skim over the band of your bra.
She nodded in response, slipping a finger in the band. “This is cute. Where’d you get it?”
“Ardene, you’d like it. I get a lot of stuff from there.” You breathed a sigh of relief that she was going to let this topic slide.
“Do I know either of them?” She asked, sliding your suit down further.
You nodded. “Both of them. Quite close, actually.”
“Am I?” You shivered slightly as you felt her breath ghost over your stomach. “You know it’s okay to talk about feelings, honey.” You hummed in agreement, mulling over in your head whether or not to tell her. “Buck or I won’t judge you.” Nat pulled your suit off and ran her hands up and down your calves a few times in a soothing motion.
Bucky popped his head back into the room. “What aren’t we judging?”
“Y/N has a crush on two people she’s friends with, they’re friends, and I’m apparently quite close to both of them.” Nat explained, keeping eye contact with you and slightly raising one eyebrow to make sure she got the facts right. You nodded once, sharply, fighting the urge to crawl under the covers and curl in on yourself.
“Oh, baby doll.” Bucky said, coming to sit next to you on the bed. “You know you can tell us anything.” He wrapped an arm around you and you burrowed your face into his chest. “Oh shit, this is something you’re really nervous about, isn’t it, doll?”
You nodded, knowing now you were going to have to tell both of them the truth. “I like you.” You said softly, knowing Bucky’s super-soldier hearing would pick it up.
“You like me, baby doll?” He asked, rubbing your back as Nat came to sit on your other side. You nodded again, attempting to burrow further into his chest. “Hey, that’s okay, sweet pea. I like you too.”
“Nat told me that.” You said softly, feeling the glare from your best friend burn into your back.
“Who’s the other one, N/N?” She asked sharply.
“You.” You said into Bucky’s chest, knowing he pointed at Nat when he heard you say it.
“Me?” Nat asked, surprised. 
You nodded, pulling your head out of Bucky’s chest, but not willing to meet either of their eyes. “Of course it’s you guys. It’s always been the two of you there for me.” You paused, letting them mull over what you just said. “It’s why Meg and I split.”
Bucky turned you to face him so he could start pulling the bullet out of your shoulder. “How so, baby doll?” Nat rested her chin on your other shoulder, holding out a hand for you to squeeze.
“Well, she didn’t like the fact that I was constantly on missions, which is literally my job, so that didn’t help matters. But the other thing is that she said I looked at you guys differently than her, treated the two of you better.” You said, looking down and squeezing Nat’s hand.
Nat rubbed your back, knowing that if you hadn’t told the two of them this, you hadn’t told anyone. “She broke up with you because she could tell you liked us?”
You nodded. “She said that if she wasn’t my first priority then we weren’t meant to be. And work is always my priority.”
“But then it’s us?” Bucky asked softly, stopping the bleeding of the removal from the bullet before he stitched you shut again.
“Yeah.” You said softly. “She didn’t like that much.”
Bucky stitched you up, and as he had changed out of his suit while finding the medical kit, pulled his shirt off for you to wear. “Here, sweetheart. You’re all stitched up.”
“Oh, thank you, Buck.” You said, putting on his shirt, the nickname and his scent lighting your insides on fire. You sighed softly, curling up under the covers and rolling away from both of them, not knowing what to say to your two closest friends now that you had spilled your heart to them and they didn’t say anything.
Nat knelt next to you on the bed, gently placing a hand on your busted shoulder. “N/N, please don’t pout. Buck and I have talked, because we both like each other, and you. We want to try to make this work.”
Bucky knelt on the floor, cupping your face in his hands. “We don’t have to move quickly, baby doll, we just wanna be with you, if that’s something you’d be okay with.”
“Yeah.” You said softly. “I’d be okay with that. But how does something like this even work?”
“Baby, this is like any relationship, we’ll figure it out as we go. Communication and comprehension is key. And we’re pretty good at that.” Nat said, gently rolling you onto your back. “So why don’t we just start with cuddles? And we can go from there later.”
You nodded, moving over to the middle of the bed so they could both crawl in with you. “Is this okay? Or did you guys want to be closer to each other?”
“This is perfect, baby doll.” Bucky said, reaching across you to throw his arm over both you and Nat.
“Yeah, perfect.” Nat said, snuggling further into your side.
“Yeah, this is everything I’ve ever wanted.” You said, leaning your head against Nat’s while curling further into Bucky.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Quick take a picture!” You heard somebody exclaim to wake you up. You were still very disoriented, having just woken up and you hadn’t even blinked your eyes open when light flashed behind them. 
“What the fuck is that?” Nat mumbled into your shoulder, eyes closed still.
“I dunno.” You mumbled, wrapping an extra arm around her. “Don’ really care either.”
Bucky pulled you both closer. “It’s Sam and Steve here to pick us up.” 
“But ‘m comfy ‘n sleepy.” You mumbled into Nat’s hair.
“I know you are, baby doll.” He said, beginning to untangle himself from the cuddle pile the three of you were in. “How about we all go for a nap back at the compound after we let your bullet wound actually get checked out?” Once untangled, Bucky picked you up in one arm and Nat in the other to carry you back onto the quinjet.
You nuzzled into his shoulder. “That sounds good.”
“So how did this all happen, punk?” Steve asked, taking you carefully from Bucky so neither you or Nat were dropped.
Bucky glanced between you and Nat fondly. “We’re all idiots.”
**
Taglist: @chrisevansdaughter, @buckybarnesandmarvel, @sarahrogersevans, @nana1000night
Let me know if you want to be added or removed!
Yall I am so sorry that it’s been so long since I posted, but this is finished now and I hope you like it. I hope to get a lot more fics out by the end of August bc then I’ll be moving and starting at a new school and it’s gonna be a whole thing.
73 notes · View notes
blackshadowswriter · 1 year
Text
Charming Thoughts┃Bucky Barnes
AN: I feel like I've said this too many times, but here we go again: I'M BACK, BITCHES. Guess who decided to take an unannounced, month-long hiatus and was too lazy to finish this fic that's been sitting in the drafts for a literal month until now.
Request from @nyctophilic0vitnir! Sorry this took so long, life jumped me <3
CW: getting knocked out? nothing much, just fluff
Tumblr media
"Buck, Y/N," Steve's voice spoke in your earpiece. "The west wing of the building is clear now. Be careful."
"Copy, Cap," you murmured and looked over your shoulder.
Next to you, Bucky crouched behind the destroyed tank that both of you were taking cover behind. His bright blue eyes scanned the battlefield, looking for any danger close to the two of you.
The snowy landscape of Siberia didn't provide many areas for camouflage, so it was risky being out in the open. Scattered across the field between the tall icy woods and the isolated bunker, which was the last of the Hydra bases that the Avengers were hunting, were a crush of Hydra agents fighting your other team members, all off them black specks against the white snow.
Seemingly finding no nearby threats, Bucky looked down at you and nodded. The two of you were clear to search the bunker now that the Hydra soldiers had been drawn out.
"Clear," he affirmed.
"Let's go then, Tin Man."
Bucky huffed at the nickname and shook his head as the two of you started to creep around the tank towards the building.
"We're going in," he informed the rest of the team.
************************************************************************
"Do you think those are supposed to be there?" you whispered to Bucky, pointing in the dark room.
His cerulean eyes scanned your surroundings, alert as always. "I'll keep watch. You can check it out," he murmured, nodding to the row of metal containers lined against the back wall of what looked to be a Hydra containment room.
You nodded, trusting Bucky to cover you as you holster your twin pistols, creeping towards the containers. Each of them was wider than your body and came up to your chest level. Fumbling for a flashlight on your belt, you flicked one on and pointed it at the front of the metal containers.
They were all matte black with some writing on the front. You crouched down to read them more clearly. On the center of each was a large yellow, triangular sign you recognized.
"They're radioactive," you called to Bucky.
Bucky tensed. "Get away from them, Y/N," he ordered.
"Wait," you murmured, shining your flashlight on the sides. "There's more writing. It's faded, I can't really see it..."
"Y/N," Bucky urged. "Get away from them!"
"Hold on, Bucky!" you snapped. "There's something on it."
You reached out to brush some dust off the side of metal can to read the words better. Underneath your fingertips, the containers were freezing cold but somehow burning hot at the same time, a start juxtaposition that made you hiss in surprise.
"Don't touch them, Y/N!" Bucky yelped. "Are you insane?"
Then, you saw it. In dark, bold letters, the words Destroy If Necessary stood out amongst the smaller fonts of manufacture dates. Next to those ominous words was a small, round black device stuck to the side of the container. Alarmed, you pulled back and scanned the other metal cans with your flashlight. Each one of them had the same black device on them.
And once you had touched the first one, all of them started blinking red, glowing brighter and brighter with each passing second. The metal containers started to give off an almost nauseatingly conflicting feel of icy cold and burning hot.
Scrambling to your feet, you shouted, "Get back!" at Bucky. You lunged towards him and shoved him behind a large steel door as an white explosion lit up your vision.
Your body burned and froze at the same time as you were thrown violently into the air, smashing into something hard and falling to the floor with a thud. Instinctively, you curled in on yourself, tucking your head into your arms for protection.
After a few seconds, you realized it was oddly silent all around you. You strained your ears for the sound of Bucky groaning that would tell you that he was alive at least. Instead, when you turned over, pain throbbing in your body, and tried to open your eyes, everything was bright and blurry. You couldn't make out anything.
Just when you were starting to panic at the lack of sound and vision, it felt like someone had hit unmute. A cacophony of sounds exploded in your ear drums so suddenly, you yelped and clamped your hand over your ears.
But the sound didn't stop. It was a harsh ringing that seemed to resonate into your very brain. Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to stop the insistent noise echoing in your ears to no avail. It was like someone had stuck tiny speakers in your eardrums and play audio of someone scrapping metal with metal.
Scattered words from voices that weren't your own suddenly blasted through your ears: team—help—need—retreat—find—two—gone—explosion—please—
There were numerous, disjointed voices speaking all at once in your head, making it impossible for you to make out anything. All of it overwhelmed you, and you cried out at the pain of the high ringing combined with the loud voices.
Hands were on your shoulders, making you flinch in fear, but they were soothing and gentle. Someone pulled you into their lap—you could feel one warm soft hand and another cold hard one cradling your head, but you weren't afraid. You felt oddly safe with whoever it was despite the pain.
Oh God, what happened to her?
You furrowed your brows in confusion. Through all the chaos screaming in your head, you heard that one voice clearly cutting through all the other sounds and words, resonating in your head.
Please don't let her be hurt.
The same voice again. It was low and gruff with an undertone of definite concern that you recognized—
"Bucky," you rasped.
Over the shouting in your head, you couldn't even hear your own voice, but you felt Bucky pulling you against his chest, which was vibrating gently—he was speaking. But you couldn't hear it over the noise in your mind.
Can she not hear me? Oh god, please don't let her be deaf!
What the heck? You could hear Bucky's voice in your head, but it obviously wasn't what he was saying out loud.
"Hurts," you whimpered, shaking your head. "Can't hear you. It's too loud. It hurts."
His chest was rumbling softly as he spoke words you couldn't hear.
"I—can't..." You shook your head, exhaustion and pain overtaking you. The words and pain in your head faded away along with the world into darkness.
****************************************************************
Wake up, Y/N. Please wake up, doll.
Soft, pleading words were the first thing you heard when you regained consciousness, pain radiating through your entire body. Thankfully, the ringing in your ears had stopped, and the discordant words had quieted significantly although you could still hear them murmuring in your head.
Yet as before, you could hear Bucky's low voice above the other voices, repeating the words over and over: please, Y/N, I'm so sorry. It was my fault, but please wake up.
Your eyes fluttered open slowly, blinking up at a familiar ceiling. Blearily looking around, you realized you were in your room back in Avengers Tower, laying in your own bed. Next to you was Bucky, sitting in a chair pulled up besides your bed, his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees.
"Bucky," you croaked.
His head jolted up out of his hands, wide blue eyes meeting yours. Bucky scooted forwards hurriedly, his flesh hand coming up to cup your cheek gently while his metal hand gentle held yours.
"Y/N," he murmured, brushing his thumb across your cheek. "Are you okay?"
You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch as you nodded slowly. "I'm okay," you rasped.
Bucky frowned. "You sound terrible. Let me get you some water."
He hurried out of his chair into the bathroom, and you heard the water start running. A second later, he bustled back to your bed, carrying the cup you used for mouthwash.
"I couldn't find any other cup," he explained apologetically.
You mustered up a tired smile as you took the cup from him. "This is perfect, thank you," you assured him.
A pleased smile flickered across his lips at your words. Bucky leaned back in his chair, observing you with those bright blue eyes that seemed to pierce you as you slowly sipped the water.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
Frowning slightly, you lowered your half drunk cup of water and studied your lap.
"Different," you decided. It felt true. There was something different about everything—something clearer. You felt like you could see more, like you were only just opening your eyes fully for the first time.
"Everything feels a lot...more," you said vaguely, waving your hand.
Bucky reached out and took your hand in his much larger one. He gently brushed his thumb across the back of your hand.
You still look as beautiful as always.
There they were again, Bucky's words brushing across your mind, cutting across the murmur of other voices whispering in your head.
You looked up at him, a blush heating up your cheeks. "Big charmer you are, Mr. Barnes," you laughed.
Bucky's eyes widened slightly. "Oh," he chucked, running his metal hand through his hair. "I forgot you could hear that."
"Hear what?" you asked curiously. "Did you not say that out loud?"
"No," Bucky admitted with an awkward laugh. "I—uh, actually thought it."
A beat of silence passed as you digested his words slowly.
"Sorry," you said hesitantly. "Did you say you thought it? And...I heard you?"
An adorable, lopsided smile crossed Bucky's face that makes you return the gesture despite yourself. "So, funny story, Y/N. Apparently, those containers you touched back at that base—"
He paused in his explanation to give you a stern look, reprimanding you for doing that without speaking. You winced and nodded guiltily, having to admit that you were pretty dumb to touch radioactive containers.
"—cause mutations," Bucky finished. "You pushed me under that steel door and got yourself a big dose of it in that explosion." He paused again to make known his disapproval for your actions, but you knew you'd do it again in a heartbeat to protect Bucky.
He continued, "Tony ran some tests on you when we got back, and long story short, it looks like you can read minds now."
"What?" you blurted, sitting up straight. "Rewind to the mutations part."
Bucky cocked an eyebrow. "The reading minds part didn't catch your attention enough?"
"Not as much as the mutation part," you said, sounding slightly hysterical. Panic wormed its way into your chest. "What do you mean mutation? Is that bad? Oh God, please don't tell me I'm going to evolve into a three headed frog with alien legs!"
Bucky stared at you, amusement and fondness written all over his face. How is she so adorable? he mused in his head, a question you heard quite plainly in your own.
"Stop thinking I'm adorable, and answer the question!" you demanded. You were flustered and flattered at his words of course, but his spoken words seemed more important at the moment. "Am I going to turn into a frog?"
Bucky shook his head, a startled laugh escaping his lips. "Right, I forgot you could hear that. No, doll, you're not going to turn into a frog."
"An alien then?" you asked, terrified. Your fear mounted, and the other voices seemed to magnify in your head, becoming louder and louder. You started to catch snatches of the words, all of them once again becoming a confusing jumble of mumbles. You realized that if you focused hard, you could differentiate some of the voices.
Steve's disjointed voice ghosted across your mind: —training session tonight with Sam and Nat—
Then, Tony and Bruce's voices muttering together: —if we can separate the atoms—no it would only make another compound—
Natasha's fuzzy voice echoing in your brain: —you're a little shit, Samuel Wilson—
You were hearing the thoughts of everybody in the tower, and it was all blurring together, overwhelming you completely. Wincing from the pain in your head, you squeezed your eyes shut, bringing your hands up to press against your temple when you felt gentle hands on your shoulders.
Hey, hey, it's okay, doll. Look at me. You can hear my thoughts, right? Are you hearing me?
Once again, Bucky's voice was cutting across all the other conjoined words, and it felt like a breath of fresh air after being stuck in a cave to hear Bucky's clear voice instead of the fuzzy whispers in your mind. You nodded your head to show that you could hear him.
You had no idea why Bucky's voice always reverberated loudest in your head, but you were grateful for it. You latched onto his voice like a lifeline and let his low murmurs of "it's okay, doll" pull you out of the spiral of thoughts. Slowly, the buzz of voices in your mind died back down to a whisper at the back of your consciousness and peeked your eyes open.
Bucky's gentle blue eyes were fixed on you, watching you with worry. A happy smile tugged at his lips when you refocus on him.
"There you are," he said, bringing his flesh hand to cup the side of your face. "Stay with me here, Y/N. Don't get lost in that pretty head of yours, doll."
Now that the panic had receded, you could properly focus on his charming words. A shy smile flitted across your lips, and you laughed softly, leaning into his warm hand.
"When did you get so bold, Mr. Barnes?"
He shrugged, grinning. "I've always thought it in my mind, doll. No use hiding them in my head if you can hear it anyways."
You smiled and leaned over the side of your bed to kiss his cheek, enjoying the way a blush lit up his face at the gesture.
"Well, don't keep those charming thoughts to yourself, Buck."
AN: So I'm back, but I can't promise I'll post any other new fics soon. It's getting closer to final weeks, and I'm stressing out. I got final projects due in a week, and I haven't even decided what to do, but hopefully I'll be fine 😬
If you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and comment, they always make my day seeing those! 🥰🖤
Main Masterlist
167 notes · View notes
Text
Honey
Tumblr media
Content Warnings: Sparring, Sexual Tension, Hair Pulling, Steve's an idiot.
Length: 5.5K
Please let me know if you like this! It's my first longer one-shot on here and I am nervous! Thanks!
Not Beta'd, just proofread by my husband, so fair warning!
Divider by @firefly-graphics
Tumblr media
Sparing was always a favorite of yours. You loved how it was both a body and mind workout. You had to keep your mind sharp to plan out your next steps while still being present and focused on your attackers movements as well. Lifting weights and cardio were great but you would choose sparring over other workouts every time. Well, almost any other time. Today’s sparring list showed you paired with Steve. You had been on the team for almost a year now and he always pushed you hard. You knew it wasn’t personal, he wanted the team to be as strong as possible. Honestly, you didn’t think anything was personal when it came to your interactions with him. You seemed to fit in well with everyone at the compound and even had some great friends among them but your fearless leader seemed to be strictly business when it came to you. He seemed to be friendly with most of the others, some even more like family, but not you, sadly. Did you have a crush on the Captain? Maybe. But that was all it was ever going to be, a crush. He had no interest in getting to know you outside of work, it seemed. Was it something you had done or did he just not like you? No matter what the reason, you knew you were in for it today. He pushes hard and never lets up. You’re sure to be sore tomorrow.
You start running on a treadmill to warm your muscles up and after a good 30 minute jog you step off and start stretching to loosen up. About this time you hear the doors to the gym open and you look up to see Steve and Natasha walking in, laughing about something. You loved seeing him laugh because you didn’t see that side of him often and his whole face lights up when he laughs. “Morning guys!”, you say while sending them both a smile and a slight wave. Natasha, still laughing, smiles back. “Good morning Y/N.” Steve looks over seeing you smile at him and swallows, his smile disappearing almost instantly. “Y/N”, he says as he nods at you. Polite, professional, and completely impersonal. Your smile falters slightly and a slight sigh escapes you as you go back to stretching. 
Natasha, hearing your sigh and seeing your slight shift in mood, comes over to stretch with you. “Don’t take it personally.”
 “How can I not? He seems open to everyone else but I just can’t make any headway.”
  “You forget the rest of us have known him for a long time. He just takes a while to open up to some people.”
 You rolled your eyes and got up off the mat, eager to let out some frustration on the super soldier. You turned around to see Bucky and Steve lifting weights across the room. Walking over to the pair you hip checked Bucky who was spotting for Steve. “Hey B, are we still on for tonight? I got a new one for you that I know you’ll love.” 
You winked at Bucky, you two had been secretly watching old musicals together since you discovered you both loved them. He didn’t want everyone knowing that was what you watched together and had made you promise to keep them a secret. 
“Yeah Honey, I am down. I have an assignment this afternoon but I should be back by 9. Is that cool?”
 You smiled at him at the nickname he had given you. He called you Honey, short for Honey Badger, ever since he saw the comical video a few months after meeting you. You were small and sweet looking but you had deadly skills and were absolutely fearless. Your innocent looks and sweet personality made your brutality even more terrifying. Once the others had heard the nickname and the reasoning behind it, it became your nickname from everyone. Well, almost everyone, seeing as Steve still called you by your name. 
“No problem B, I’ll still be awake, just come by when you get home. Steve, are you almost ready?” You turned your eyes to Steve who was glaring at Bucky. 
“Yeah Y/N, always ready.” He said that while still staring at Bucky, trying to decipher your conversation. He finally looked down at you, sending butterflies to your stomach. The look he was giving you was one you couldn’t quite decipher, if you didn’t know better, you would say it was almost jealousy. But you did know better, Steve was a coworker and only that. He had made that clear over and over, much to your dissatisfaction. But you couldn’t help but be attracted. He was always so sure of himself and had a quiet dominance that made others fall in under his authority. You felt yourself get flushed under his gaze and turned away before your cheeks gave you away.
You both walked over to the sparring mats and circled for a moment, getting your heads into it. Steve was large and strong but straightforward in his attacks. His movements were all about efficiency and that was something you could exploit. You waited until he made his first movements, stepping forward and punching first right, then left, the right again. You easily dodged all of those punches and slid yourself between his legs, elbowing the back of his knee on the way, making him falter in his stance. You quickly stood up and jumped on his back placing him in a choke hold. He reached up and over, grabbing you and flipping you over, slamming you into the mat. 
You were out of breath but quickly recovered and stood up. This time you were the first to move, you threw a punch at him knowing that he would step back with his right leg and bend his left. You used his left leg as a step, launching yourself onto him, swinging your right leg over his shoulder. You instantly started punching at his face, hitting him multiple times across the cheek and jaw. He growled out in frustration and then did something surprising. He threw himself backwards, falling hard on his back and making you land on your stomach hard enough to knock your breath out. He twisted his body and straddled you, leaning over your body and pinning your shoulder down to the mat. He grabbed your ponytail and pulled it, not so hard that it did any real damage to your hair but enough that it brought your head off the mat as you panted. His body was pressed tightly down onto yours and he leaned down and whispered in your ear. “Not bad…Honey.” With that, he stood up off of you and walked out of the gym. 
You sat up, staring at the door he had just walked out of, dazed and confused at what had just happened. “Did he just call you Honey?” Nat walked up to you and held out her hand, pulling you up off the floor. 
“Ugh, yeah. I guess he did.” 
Nat smirked as she shook her head. “Oh sweetie, you got it bad don’t you?”
Your face instantly turning red. “What? No…no I don’t.” 
 “It’s okay. I don’t blame you for it. He certainly is a specimen. Not my type but definitely not bad.”  Having had enough of the conversation focusing on you, you turn the tables on Nat. 
“And what exactly is your type? Dark hair, metal arm, and curses in Russian?” You knew about Nat and Bucky’s not so secret relationship. They were your best friends and it was impossible not to pick up on the signs of their growing romance.
 “Okay, that’s enough from you. Go get cleaned up, you’re sweaty as hell.” She pushed you out the door and towards your room, laughing all the way at her apparent embarrassment. 
Tumblr media
Steve slammed his door after making his way from the gym. His body was pumping with adrenaline and his head was full of conflicting emotions. He had let you get to him and he was kicking himself for how he had reacted. Since the first day he had met you, he had been so drawn to you. You were kind and bubbling with joy and yet at the same time, a fierce fighter and didn’t take crap from anyone. He had found himself on more than one occasion comparing you to Peggy and he hated that. He thought it was sick to be attracted to someone just because they reminded him of her. But as time went on and as he saw more and more of you, he realized that he was drawn to you, not some similarities the two shared. You were so kind but could instantly turn and be so fierce. You roasted Sam and Bucky within an inch of their lives and he loved seeing you let loose with the team on nights out, even if he didn’t feel confident enough to join you. He wanted nothing more than to be close to you but he didn’t know how. You were under his command and all he wanted was to pull you close to him and feel your skin underneath his fingers. It was better to just keep things professional and distant between you two. And that’s what he did, for the better part of a year, he was kind but cold towards you. That was until today. He had dreamed about you last night, feeling your body beneath his hands, hearing soft sighs come from your lips. He had woken up frustrated in more than one sense of the word. He had tried for so long to get you off his mind but he went to bed most nights thinking of you and woke up more times than he could count from dreams of you and him in bed together, sometimes just snuggling and talking…sometimes more. But always with the same effect, an intense longing for you that could only be partially satiated by his morning showers.
Steve sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands when he heard his door open and close and heavy footsteps walk towards him. “Well, that was one hell of  a workout. What was all that about? And since when do you call her Honey?” He looked up to see Bucky lean against his dresser, arms crossed, and a curious look on his face. Steve just looked at his best friend and shook his head in frustration. 
“Nothing… it was just nothing. I just got carried away in the fight.”
 “Steve, that didn’t look like “nothing”. And you still didn’t answer my question. When did you start calling her Honey? It’s not like you have ever tried to be her friend or anything.” 
Steve shook his head in frustration, “I’ve never called her Honey before, at least not to her. And I don’t talk to her outside of work on purpose.”
 Bucky looked at Steve confused, “What do you mean on purpo-“ pausing to think for a moment, “Are you fucking kidding me!?! God, I knew you were stupid, but this is a new level! Are you telling me that you have been shutting her out for a whole fucking year because you liked her!?!” Bucky was pacing by now and was clearly worked up over this. 
“Do you think we could bring down the volume and the language a bit?”  
 “No, no we fucking can’t. She thinks you hate her! She thinks that you can’t stand to be around her! For the past year she has felt ostracized by you and had no idea why! Do you know how many times I have seen her down because all she wants is to feel accepted by the team, the whole team. You. She has spent the last year trying to get close to you and you just kept her away. If you didn’t trust her or were annoyed by her, that would be one thing. I could understand that. But no! You are just a fucking idiot who can’t get his head out of his own ass long enough to tell the girl you like that it’s not her fault that you’ve cut her off!” 
There was a moment of eerie quiet while Bucky caught his breath and tried to calm his anger towards his closest friend. 
“How long?” 
Steve finally looked up at him. “What?”
 “How. Long?” 
Steve looked back down at the ground, picking at his fingernails. “Since the moment I met her. I fought the feelings for a while. I thought I was just seeing Peggy in her so I chose to ignore the feelings, but they just kept developing and after a while, I realized it wasn’t about Peggy, it was about her.” 
Bucky huffed out a breath and sat beside Steve. “Well you certainly have a type.” He laughed, thinking about the ways they were similar. “Kind-hearted, fiery, independent women who could knock you on your ass in a heartbeat.” They sat in silence for a moment. “So why did you never make a move? Why keep pushing her away?” 
It was the question Steve asked himself every day and every day he had to answer back with the same reason. “Because we work together. Not just that, but I am her leader. It could never work and I can’t risk never seeing her again if it didn’t work.” 
“Who says it couldn’t work? It’s worked just fine for me and Nat for months.” 
Steve shook his head at him, “That’s not the same thi- what do you mean you and Nat!?!” 
Bucky let out a short laugh. “Jesus, have you been living under a rock? Me and Nat have been together for over six months now. You obviously don’t see it affecting our work or the team. We separate work for personal and it works just fine. If we can do it, so could you. Honestly, dating someone on the team is better than someone that’s not. Who better to understand the stresses of the job? Someone you can actually talk to about missions. Someone who understands and accepts the crazy schedules. It’s twice as hard with someone on the outside.” 
Steve sat in silence for a moment, thinking about what Bucky had said. He hadn’t thought about the benefits of dating inside the team, only the cons. But clearly, some people were able to make it work successfully. “Six months, huh?” He nudged Bucky’s shoulder. “That’s a lot for you. I’ve never seen you with someone past a month. It must be getting serious.” 
“Yeah it is. We’ve been talking about moving in together. Still here at the compound, but into our place, ya know? I’ve never felt this way about someone and it’s terrifying but exciting at the same time.” 
Steve clapped his hand on Bucky’s back. “I’m happy for you, Buck. I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy. And I am sorry I didn’t notice before. I’ve just been so wrapped up in trying to fight this that I haven’t been a very good friend to you.” 
“Thanks man, I really am happy. But I’m not who you need to apologize to. She deserves the truth.” 
Steve put his hands back to his head and rubbed his temples, “I am just so terrified of her not feeling the same. You know I’ve always been a train wreck when it comes to women.” 
“Hey, the train thing is too soon.” Bucky said with a laugh. “But in all seriousness, and I didn’t tell you this because Nat will kill me. But she didn’t just want to get to know you to be her friend. I don’t think you will be disappointed.” 
Tumblr media
You spent the rest of the day working on upcoming missions, opting to hide out in your office than to potentially face Steve. You weren’t quite sure what had happened at training that morning but it had been something. Natasha had tried to get more out of you about your crush on Steve at lunch but you wouldn’t say anything else. What was the point if there wasn’t a chance? He obviously didn’t feel the same about you and you had been holding out hope for a year. This morning had been interesting, but one small moment of attention didn’t mean anything, not really. 
You were looking forward to hanging out with Bucky tonight. Just watching a musical and stuffing yourselves full of junk food. It would be good to get your mind off of Steve. You were hanging out in your room around 8:30 when you got a text from Bucky. 
Bucky: Hey Honey, I am so sorry. This recon job just got extended and we won’t be back till tomorrow morning. Can I get a rain check for movie night?
 You instantly felt your mood drop. You needed tonight more than most weeks and you were excited for the movie tonight. He had chosen “Oklahoma” for tonight's musical and you hadn’t seen it in years and were excited to watch it again. 
You: Ugh. Fine! Sometimes being on this team sucks. You owe me big time Barnes!
 You send him the text and a Gif from the Godfather saying that he was going to owe you for the favor he asked. 
Bucky: Is that from a movie? 
 You: Oh dear God, we have so much work to do. 
You now realized that you needed to add other popular movies to your list. Geez, catching up a super soldier is a lot of work. You decided to take a bath instead for the night and had made your room and bathroom into what can only be described as a fireman’s worst nightmare. You had candles lit everywhere and had turned off every light possible. You loved relaxing by just candle light. It made you feel like you were truly alone, despite knowing that the compound was full of other people. You had thrown your hair into a messy bun on top of your head and you were relaxing into your deep bathtub, your one requested change to your room when you moved in. You love taking long hot baths, showers are great for cleaning yourself, but nothing beats a hot bath for relaxation. You had asked Friday to play your classical playlist. You loved so many types of music but sometimes soft classical music was just what you needed. 
Around 9:15 you heard a knock at your door and figured that it was Nat or Wanda. “One second!” You pulled the plug on the drain, pulled on your thin soft cotton robe, and padded over to the door. Opening it you were surprised to see Steve standing in your doorway “Um…hi.”
Steve had paced in front of your door for a few minutes, debating with himself if this was a bad idea, before finally finding enough courage to knock. “One second!” he heard you say and he waited anxiously for you to open the door, stopping himself from turning right around and running away. When you opened the door he almost lost his nerve. You were standing in front of him, hair in a messy bun and in what appeared to be nothing more than a thin cotton robe. He had to force his eyes to not trace down your body right then and there. “Um…hi.” 
It was clear to him that he was the last person you expected to be knocking on his door so late at night. He cleared his throat and started to speak. “I’m sorry for interrupting your night, I just thought we might be able to talk.” He looked back at her room, covered in candles and thought that maybe she was planning a romantic evening with someone. Shit. I’ve missed my chance, haven’t I? “But you obviously have other plans, I will just see you tomorrow. Sorry for bothering you.” Steve started to turn around when he felt your hand on his forearm. 
“Hey, no plans for me, you're welcome to come in.” You gave him a sweet smile which made his heart leap. He was nervous for the conversation he was going to have but couldn’t deny that being in your room with you like this was exhilarating. He stepped into your room and you closed the door, you brushed past him and walked further into the room. “Sorry about the mountains of candles.” 
He laughed at that. “I was gonna say, either you're having a romantic evening or a seance.” You let out a laugh. 
“No, no one but me here tonight, ghosts or otherwise. I just love relaxing in candlelight. It makes the world slow down for me. I am able to push off everything outside of this room and just be present here. Plus I like feeling like I’m in a regency novel sometimes.” 
You laughed heartily at this and the sound of your laugh filled Steve’s stomach with butterflies. How many nights had he dreamed about something like this. Just being with you, not even sexually, although there were more than his fair share of those dreams as well. But just getting to be alone with you and hear your laugh at something he said. You led him over to your loveseat sofa and he sat down on one side while you sat on the other, covering your lap in a small throw blanket, aware of just how naked you were under your robe. 
Steve sat there for a moment, not sure how to begin. “Steve…if this is about this morning, you don’t need to worry about anything. I wasn’t hurt at all. It was a good sparring session and you won fair and square.” 
Steve shook his head. “No, it’s not about this morning…not really anyway. This morning's sparring was…unprofessional of me, and I am sorry about that, but… God I don’t know how to say this other than to just come out and say it… I like you. I have for a long time and I realize that I have been cold towards you since, well, forever. It was just my dumbass idiot way to try to deny my feelings towards you. I can understand if you hate me for pushing you away but I couldn’t go any longer without telling you.”  
You sat in shock listening to his words and then stood up suddenly and started pacing your floor in silence, Steve nervously watching you from the couch. After a few minutes, you stopped abruptly and turned towards him. “I’m sorry, let me get this right. You like me? And because you like me, you have been pushing me away and essentially ignoring me for a year? Am I getting that right?” 
Steve sighed and his head dropped down to stare at the ground, picking at his fingernails. “Yes… and I have no real excuse. I was afraid to damage the team but when Bucky found out he about beat me upside my head.” 
You let out a huff, “As he should have. Jesus, Steve. For as smart and logical as you are, you can be a real idiot sometimes. God, you say you like me but you don’t even know me.” 
You were about to pace the room in anger again when you felt a hand on your arm turning you back around. Steve was standing in front of you, looking down at you with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, somewhere between terror and desire. 
“You don’t like sweet and salty foods to touch on the plate but you will mix salty things together and sweet things together. You love sitting out on the covered porch during a rainstorm. You hate chocolate without nuts because you think every bite of food needs at least two different textures, if not more. You love to cry at books but not at movies and you won’t watch something if it doesn’t have a happy ending. So you rarely go to see anything in theaters because you don’t want to sit through a movie without knowing that it’s going to end well. You hate running but you love hiking. Your favorite movie is Pride and Prejudice and you think that the 2005 version is pure perfection. You will tell people your favorite book is something academic but in reality you love trashy romance novels. You are best friends with Nat and Wanda and you see Bucky as the brother you always wished you had.” 
He paused for a moment and saw the tears growing in your eyes. You hadn’t realized that he gave two shits about you let alone saw all of that. His hand slid down your arm and he held your hand in his. “You are kind, and funny, and don’t take shit from anyone. You care so much about the team and would defend them fiercely. You always put others before yourself and you do your best to make everyone feel safe and noticed and loved.”
He used his other hand to tilt your chin up to look at him. "I know I fucked up by pushing you away and I understand if you don’t feel the same way about me but I couldn’t handle the thought of you thinking that I didn’t care or that I didn’t see just how wonderful you are.” He stared at you for a few moments before pulling away slightly. “I’m sorry for dumping all of this on you all at once. I’ll let you get back to your evening.” 
He started to walk towards the door and felt you pull his hand back towards you. He looked at you, momentarily taken aback by just how beautiful you looked in the flickering candlelight. A moment of silence passed before you shyly smiled at him and interlaced your fingers with his again. “Stay… I-I mean if you want. I was going to watch a movie with Bucky but if you wanted to…we could watch it instead.” 
Steve looked down at you, a smile growing across his face and he slightly bit his bottom lip, sending your butterflies flying. “Yeah… I’d like that.” You asked him to blow out most of the candles and settle himself on your couch as you went and quickly threw some clothes on. You came back into the room and settled yourself onto the couch as well. All Steve wanted to do was be close to you, to feel you wrapped in his arms, to smell your shampoo, but he knew to let you move at your pace. He had dropped so much on you so quickly and the fact that you weren’t raving mad at him right now was a miracle all on its own. He would take just getting to spend time with you. 
“So what are we watching tonight?”
Your face broke out into an excited smile. “Oklahoma.”
“You mean like the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical?” You were shocked at his awareness of it. It had come out years after he went into the ice and you doubted he had seen it since he came out. 
“Yeah…how do you know about it? Have you seen it?” 
“No, not really. I mean…well, sort of. The broadway came out in 1943 and I saw a few songs of it being previewed during my bond-selling days. One of the actors for it on Broadway was in one of those God awful Captain America movies they made back then. I was able to catch an off-broadway workshop of it a few weeks before I did my USO tour. I liked the little bit of it I saw.” 
You looked at him with a sense of surprise. “I don’t know if I am more shocked at you going to see musicals or jealous that you saw a Rogers and Hammerstein production before almost anyone else in the whole world.” 
He let out a soft laugh at that. “Well who do you think went to see all those musicals with Bucky? Do you know how many awful double dates he took me on to see a musical?” 
You turned towards him, now suddenly more interested in this than starting the movie. “You used to go on double dates with Bucky? What was that like?” “Oh God, it was the worst. 95% of the time Bucky ended up with two dates and I either tagged along pathetically or would skip out. Not many women took a second look at me, let alone enjoyed spending time with me. You’ve seen what I looked like.” 
“You were small, yeah, but I can’t imagine your personality has changed that much over the years. Still the same man who can’t help but stand up for others, can’t back away from a fight no matter how hopeless. Plus, short and skinny or not, you were still handsome then. You still had that look of being up to no good. Always a trouble maker, even then.” 
Steve’s face flamed in a blush and he looked down at his hands in embarrassment. You felt your nerves flipping your stomach over and over and felt your heart begin to beat faster as you moved closer to Steve, sitting on your knees right beside him. You hesitantly carded your fingers through the strands of his hair that had fallen down onto his face and then traced your fingers down the side of his face to the side of his jaw. He looked up at you, eyes filled with desire and nervousness. 
“Steve. Can…Can I kiss you.” You knew that he had effectively just laid out all his feelings for you, but you didn’t want to assume that he would just be okay with it.
He sat up, his face getting dangerously close to your own as he searched your eyes. “Yes… please.”  You hesitantly moved even closer to him, not believing that this could really be happening. He gently nudged your nose with his own, taking a moment to savor the feeling of you being so close. Finally, he closed the distance between you two. 
The kiss was gentle but full of so much emotion. Both of you were nervous but eager. You slid both your hands behind his head, while his hands found their way around to your back as they held you close. Your lips worked in unison and you found yourself biting and pulling on his bottom lip, desperate to get closer to him. He let out a gasp and pulled away slightly, placing his hands firmly on your arms. 
“Wait…Wait, Honey.” He pulled away more fully and stood up. “I think… I think that we need to talk about this.”
You instantly recoiled, feeling the sharp sting of rejection, tears starting to cloud your eyes. You were confused. Hadn’t he just confessed his feelings? Hadn’t you?
Steve could tell that you were confused and hurt. He sat back down and lifted your chin with his fingers, making you look him in the eye. 
“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I’ve wanted you for so long and I know that, given the opportunity, I would… be less than gentlemanly. I just want to do this the right way. You deserve to be wooed and I don’t want to skip any steps with you. I just don’t want to go too fast. I hope you understand.”
What had been a moment of hurt and confusion was now one filled with admiration and affection.
“Of course I understand. And I would like that, being wooed by you.” Your cheeks stained red as you spoke, the thought of Steve pursuing you. “So…  slow?”
He nodded his head. “Slow.” 
“Can we still watch the movie? And possibly cuddle a little?” You asked with a slight tease in your voice. You were being playful but also trying to be respectful of his desires. He laughed gently at you.
“Yes…please. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the night. Well, I could but again…slow.” He said while giving you a playful wink, causing your cheeks to flame red once again. 
“Oh boy, you’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?” You asked him, laughing and shaking your head.
“Me? I’ve never been trouble.” 
You laughed, settling into his side and covering both your laps with a soft blanket while turning the movie back on to play. “I’m not sure Bucky would agree with you. Or Tony, or Natasha, or the US Government. Or-” He laughed again, “Okay, okay. I may be just the slightest bit of trouble.” He looked down at you tucked into his side, unable to believe that he was actually here, holding you close. His heart was fit to burst with the happiness it contained. He kissed the top of your head and gently breathed in your scent before turning his attention back to the movie you were now singing along quietly to. Perfection, he thought, this is absolute perfection.
206 notes · View notes
cozy-fantasy-corner · 1 month
Text
Band of Idiots Pt. 4: Coney Island
Pairing: Stucky x Reader
Warnings: Fluff, angst, pining, language, Steve being an angsty cat, mentions of violence, alcohol, illness, death, and fondue-ing 
Word Count: 2.8k
Summary: Steve, Y/n, and Bucky are as thick as thieves. They spend a day at Coney Island together. Feelings are discovered and lies are told.
Author’s Note: It’s been ages since I’ve updated this fic. My apologies. Life got crazy. I graduated high school, moved out of state for college, and then got super sick. But I’m back and better than ever. My inbox and dms are always open!
Tumblr media
(not my gif. credit to the owner)
-------
Brooklyn summers could be unbearable. The molten heat pounding on the asphalt of a concrete jungle was enough to make any seasoned New Yorker feel faint. The air looked like a blur and felt like it was baking the city alive. The sun a constant, unrelenting oven. 
July of 1934 was no different. In fact, it was somehow worse. 
Just two weeks ago, Stevie had his fourteenth birthday. And boy was he rearing to go. The torturous temperatures had Stevie acting like an alley cat. He was always yowling about something and picking fights with any and everyone. 
Three days this week he’d come home while Miss Sarah was at work cut up and bleeding. I’d be an amazing nurse with the amount of times I’ve given that boy stitches and set his nose. 
With Bucky’s new job down at the docks, he couldn’t save Steve so easily from all of his fights like he used to. Poor Buck is so worried about our boy. The thought of him biting off more than he can chew is enough to cause a knot in all of our stomachs. We wouldn’t know what to do without him. 
------- 
Today, Bucky had the day off of work and he’d been saving for weeks to take us to Coney Island to blow off some steam. For him, that was spending all his money to impress dames. For Stevie, it was drawing while next to me on a bench or the beach. As for me, I loved to just sit and observe all of the people: the sights, the smells, the sounds. 
The train ride to the amusement park was crowded and boiling with body heat. It smelled like stale sweat and old people in the worst way. The screams of children and the loud chatter from other patrons were enough to give me a headache, even with my bad ear. My back was killing me from standing for so long without a break, forcing me to brace myself on Steve and Bucky’s shoulders. Of course, Mister Meat-Head over here was flexin’ his suddenly very toned shoulder under my grip which caused me to blush. Thank God my face was already red from overheating, or he’d have poked fun at me about it. 
My shitty lungs were being squeezed by the warm, wet air, and I wheezed slightly. My wheezing was met with Steve’s and a concerned glare from Bucky. I moved my hand to my bag, fumbling for my peppermint oil. My fingers met the cold glass and pried it open near our noses. A deep inhale eased the pressure in my chest. 
“You alright, Kiddo?”
“She’s peachy, Buck. We’re on a hot train with a buncha loud, smelly assholes and we both got shit lungs. Wattaya think, ya jerk?” Steve snarked back, radiating thick annoyance. My mouth fell open in shock. 
Bucky threw up his hand defensively, a mildly hurt look on his face. Steve was never this cross, even on his worst days. Something was wrong, had been for weeks. Getting into fights, coming home later, skipping meals, being snippy, even to me. Now it was getting worse. I hoped that it wouldn’t ruin our day out, but part of me knew that things would only go downhill from there. And all I could do was brace myself for impact. 
I pulled my shoulders closer to my neck and inched towards Buck a little bit. My eyes squeezed themselves shut and I tried to breathe in, hoping for calm. All I got was B.O. and a frown from Steve. He knows I only do that when I’m nervous, and he was the thing making me nervous. 
Buck seemed so set on enjoying the day that he glazed over everything and plastered his trademark Bucky Barnes grin on his sweaty face. I almost wanted to pinch his arm just to snap him out of it. No one should smile that much or look that good doing it. Especially not on a train in the summer heat. Honest to God, it was annoying. 
Between Mister Sunshine and Mister Scrooge, the day was bound to be interesting to say the least. 
------
Bucky had stopped to grab me some pop while Steve stormed off, a bit too eager to be rid of us for my taste. A minute piece of my heart crumbled away. Never, in all the years that I had known Steven Grant Rogers, had he voluntarily put distance between us. I couldn’t figure a rhyme or reason, all I could feel in that moment was hurt. 
I ambled along the dock, book in hand. The salt-tinged air lapped at my frizzy locks and splotchy skin like a cooling balm. It felt like I could fully exhale finally. Deep breaths were a blessing. 
Very little time passed when Buck had bounced up beside me with his angelic grin. His baby fat had melted away in recent months, giving him a devilish yet heavenly appearance. That stupid, perfect grin caught me off guard. I was in awe that my safety net, my friend could possibly be this beautiful. He had always been handsome, but not once in my life had I seen someone, anyone, look so perfect. I wasn’t aware that my feelings for him could grow, but by-golly they did. 
Just staring at him wouldn’t do, so I elbowed him in the ribs. His playful pout made my chest squeeze. It wasn’t in the usual painful way like my attacks. It was something new, unfamiliar. He chuckled and pulled me under his arm as we continued down the dock. I felt so small and safe at his side. Tiny jolts of electricity seemed to pass from his skin to mine with every step. 
Nestled into Bucky’s side, we meandered towards the rides. A good handful of summers had passed since we’d been able to come here, but we had long outgrown the attractions we were used to. We bickered back and forth about which adventure to choose. I was thankfully able to convince him to take me on the ferris wheel at some point today, but I knew I’d have to let him have his fun first. The way his eyes lit up talking about the Cyclone told me that I wouldn’t have any choice but to go with him. God, I hate roller coasters. 
That Godforsaken ride was the bane of my existence, but my boys loved it to death. I always ended up with my head tucked into someone’s chest as we whipped ‘round and ‘round. On especially good days, like today, I was able to hold my lunch down.  
Something about this time felt odd. Bucky kept looking at me with a goofy grin. This smile wasn’t his normal endearing, toothy grin; there was something more to it that I couldn’t quite place. That look had my heart pounding in my chest, not from fear, but excitement maybe. 
------
Many more strange glances were exchanged over the next couple of hours, Steve’s attitude problem mostly forgotten. I couldn’t help but worry that something was wrong with Buck. Over the last 7 years, he had looked at me a lot of ways: worried, annoyed, caring. Today was a whole fresh set that I couldn’t quite name. It made me uneasy, yet giddy at the same time. A tiny, delusional part of me thought that maybe, just maybe the older boy loved me like I loved him. That would be impossible. He loves me like a sister. 
The rumble of Bucky’s voice shook me from my thoughts.
“How ‘bout that ferris wheel now? I think I’ve tortured you enough for one day.” he said with a chuckle. I nodded eagerly. 
As I went to start walking towards my favorite ride, I felt a hand in mine. Bucky’s. My breath caught in my throat, but I wouldn’t allow myself to freeze up. He couldn’t know how that tiny gesture affected me. Instead, I smiled up at him, squeezing his massive hand as we moved. 
Such a simple motion brought all of the thoughts I had shoved to the side crashing forward. My mind was in such a state that I didn’t even realize that we were at the front of the line, about to enter our car. Bucky moved to help me up with his kind smile and I sheepishly accepted. 
Damn him. Damn his beautiful smile. Damn his gentlemanly ways. 
After we settled beside one another, he took my hand in his again. His calloused thumb smoothed over the back of my velvet soft hand. It was almost like he was trying to tell me something. Lord, I need calm down. 
As we reached the top, Buck peeled me away from his side and turned look at me. He had an energy about him like he wanted to say something. His brow was furrowed, his eyes serious. His hands rubbed themselves down his thighs nervously. I couldn’t help but feel a little scared. Bucky is the calm one, the happy one. There has never been something he couldn’t turn into a joke. His brow only set itself this way when he was uncomfortable. 
He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. 
I gulped. 
This had to be bad, right? But it couldn’t be. Nothing bad could ever come from such beautiful lips. Nothing. 
A sudden warmth on my lips jerked me out of my worry. My eyes blew wide in surprise. The warmth was Bucky, more specifically, Bucky’s lips. Everything faded away, even the shock, as I melted into the soft feeling of him against my mouth. His work-hardened hands came up to cup my cheeks while I sat there limp in his arms. We had all kissed on another over the years, light pecks on the cheeks and forehead. This one was different. 
Bucky pulled back for air and I sighed softly. Our foreheads met, eyes closed. My body was still limp, but my head spun a million miles a minute. He feels the same way. I’m not crazy. What does this mean? What about Steve?
Steve! 
We jumped apart when a sharp, familiar cough pierced through the haze. My startled eyes met Steve’s angry ones. Dread filled my stomach as I clamored away from Buck and onto the platform of the ferris wheel. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 
------
Steve grabbed my arm roughly and dragged me towards a building nearby. Buck ran after us, yelling for us to stop. I was filled with panic and guilt. Steve looked like he was going to kill someone, well Bucky specifically. 
“What the FUCK was that, Y/N?” Steve growled, fist closing more tightly around my bicep. 
Before I could respond, Bucky was towering over both of us looking just as confused as I was. He paused for a second, taking in my shaking figure. His eyes hardened with rage. No one was allowed to scare me, not even Steve. He grabbed his shoulder harshly and spun him around. 
“You wanna let her go, Punk?” Buck hissed. Steve bristled and clenched his jaw. 
In true Steve fashion, he decided to forgo using his words, leaping straight to using his fists. His fist connected with Bucky’s jaw and I screamed. Bucky shot me a worried glance before pinning Steve to the wall as gently as possible. They stared one another down. All of our chests were heaving. 
Steve looked up at our friend with tears brimming his baby blue eyes, “How could you, pal? You know better”.
Bucky’s face softened instantly and my panic grew. Steve has feelings for me?
Buck muttered an apology and let Stevie go. I pushed myself between them, tears rolling down my flushed cheeks. Their gazes on me were piercing, my skin heating under their eyes. I grabbed Bucky’s hand and turned to Steve. He grabbed my free hand and squeezed softly, eyes full of tears and remorse. I put my head on his chest and hugged him tightly. 
“Stevie, what’s goin’ on, huh?” I whispered pulling back slightly. 
He just croaked, his words seeming to escape him. Buck squeeze my hand, whispering his goodbyes. As the sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the alley, a heavy silence enveloped us. Steve's gaze was distant, lost in the swirl of emotions that had consumed him. I stood there, my heart heavy with the weight of unspoken truths and tangled feelings.
"I... I don't know where to begin," Steve finally murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes searched mine, a mixture of pain and longing flickering within them. 
I reached out, gently touching his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips. "It's okay, Steve. Whatever it is, we can figure it out together," I said softly, offering him a small, reassuring smile. Of course we could, I love him more than life itself. 
He nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. "I... I've been trying to deny it, but... seeing you with Bucky, it just..." His voice trailed off, his expression haunted.
I took a step closer, closing the gap between us. "Steve, whatever you're feeling, it's okay. You don't have to hold it all in," I whispered, my heart aching for him. I didn’t mean to hurt him. We had promised as kids never to harm the other. That promise lay shattered at our feet, and it was all my stupid fucking fault. 
Tears welled up in his eyes, reflecting the fading light of the setting sun. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion.
I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. We stood there, clinging to each other in the dwindling light, the weight of our unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. I shushed him softly like Ms. Sarah would, hoping, praying that I could ease his pain with imitation of his mother’s love. 
In that moment, amidst the chaos of tangled feelings and fractured relationships, the crushing realization that I had potentially destroyed the most meaningful bond in my life washed over me. One kiss and our worlds had crashed apart. 
Steve and I remained locked in our embrace, the warmth of each other's frail presence a balm to our troubled souls. The world seemed to fade away around us, leaving only the echo of our steady heartbeats and the whisper of our shared breaths. Clinging to him seemed to be the only thing keeping the ground from vanishing beneath us. He would never let me fall. 
With a gentle touch, I tilted Steve's chin up, meeting his gaze with a tenderness born of years of friendship and unspoken understanding. "I need you to say it." I whisper, my voice cracking under the weight of years of shared memories and unspoken emotions.
Steve's eyes searched mine, his gaze filled with a vulnerability that tore at my heart. "I love Bucky. More than you will ever know, Minnie." he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. Something inside of me fractured. 
He loved him? I felt betrayed. Steve had known for years how I felt, and he had kept this to himself. To what, protect me? Tinges of frustration bubbled up inside of me. He had lied to me, let me confide in him in the earliest hours of the morning, given me advice. None of it was in earnest. 
My anger fizzled out when I saw the tears falling from his pleading eyes. There wasn’t a way in the world I could stay mad at my Stevie, however betrayed I felt. 
I brushed away a stray tear that clung to his cheek, my thumb tracing a gentle path across his skin. "We'll figure it out together, Steve. Whatever comes our way, we'll face it together. All three of us," I promised, the conviction in my words unwavering. He flinched at my mention of all of us. His eyes begged me to keep his feeling for Buck between him and myself. I nodded knowingly, unwilling to betray him. 
In that moment, amidst the fading light of a Brooklyn sunset, I knew that this God-forsaken mess was far from over. But as long as we had each other, I was certain that we could weather any storm that lay ahead. And with that knowledge warming my heart, I held Steve a little tighter, silently vowing to never let go. 
13 notes · View notes
foxgloveprincess · 2 years
Note
Hello love! In It’s a Game of Give and Take, if the reader has agreed to sleep in the nest with Steve and Bucky, how do you think that would have changed the way the story went? Would something happen to clue her in to the fact that Bucky and Steve thought they were all dating? 💜💜
What If…The Answer Was Yes
(Alternate Ending? Drabble for It’s A Game of Give and Take)
Tumblr media
Word Count: ~1.8K
Warnings: Monster AU, Monster x Human Romance, ‘Platonic’ Cuddling, Suggestions of Infidelity, Swearing/Cursing, Mild Angst, Natasha Has To Do Everything, Barely Edited. Minors do not interact (18+).
A/N: Have a drabble, sweet nonnie! Hope this answers your question. 💜
Tumblr media
“I’m gonna head in for the evening.” I spin on my heel, backing toward my room and giving a little wave. 
“Do you wanna sleep in the nest with us tonight?” Bucky offers, pressing up from Steve’s chest, gaze shining with eagerness.
I pause, freezing mid-step, thoughts sent flying.
“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” I hedge, toeing at the ground and refusing to meet their expectant gazes.
My heart pounds in my ear, body aching for theirs pressed to mine. That familiarity, that comfort from which I’ve been deprived since Steve moved in. I can be a big girl and admit I miss it. Snuggling with Bucky on the sofa doesn’t feel quite the same as when we had our nest.
They remain frozen for a moment, exchanging a glance. I wait for their reconsideration—the retraction of their offer.
But they burst like a ripe water balloon. Spewing words over each other that I can’t understand. Tangled together, they attempt to stand but fail and fall back into the cushions.
A laugh shakes my chest, fully entertained by their antics. My hand raises in a signal for them to pause.
“Just hold on a second,” I chuckle, shaking my head, “I still gotta get ready for bed. I’ll meet you in your room when I’m done.”
My eyes roll as I turn, the mirth lingering even as I prepare for sleep. Until I’m left staring at my pjs sitting at the foot of my bed. The giant t-shirt barely covers my rear, leaving an ample view of my panties clinging to my ass. Twisting one way then the other, I debate whether they’ll be comfortable with me in this, in their personal space, their nest.
“No,” I chide. Refusing to even venture down that road. Their nest. I sigh. “Fuck it.”
My door swings open, stopped from smacking against the wall by my hand. A breeze brushes past my face at the force but I hardly feel it. All my attention focuses on psyching myself up for this night I’m about to experience.
The living room is dark, probably long abandoned once I agreed to a night in their nest—platonic, it’s platonic.
I can’t help grumbling to myself as I walk the distance which stretches miles between my bedroom and theirs. My hand shakes as I reach up to rap my knuckles against their door.
But it isn’t closed, opening inward to reveal them both waiting for me with eager smiles.
Steve holds a book in his hand, looking ready to spend some time relaxing before his slumber, even as his tail flicks on the bedding in delight. Bucky, though—he’s patting the space between them with a killer smile and scrunching in his adorably excited way as if he might pounce.
I steel my nerves. Knowing this night will be a Herculean feat of self control. Cause, boy howdy, are my emotions gonna take a hit tomorrow when the offer isn’t there.
I crawl between them, movements stilted and halting. Waiting for them to change their mind until I’m laying on my back.
Bucky wastes no time at all, wrapping around me like he used to. I swallow down the tears, feeling warm and comforted by his weight. He’s heavy, it’s true, but nothing in the world can make me feel as safe and protected. To know I’ll be kept snug and cherished throughout the night.
My eyes flick to Steve, staring down at the two of us with an enigmatic smile on his lips.
“Are you sure you’re alright with this, Steve?” I ask, needing to know I’m truly welcome here.
He laughs, belly shaking. “You’re funny,” he snickers, patting me on my head with a softness spreading through his gaze. “Sleep tight, li’l one.”
My lips purse over a protest, but Bucky only draws me closer—as if he left any space between us before.
Steve may stay awake for a while to read and Bucky might rearrange us to his liking, but as soon as I let myself relax—to really revel in being held so tenderly—I’m out like a light.
Tumblr media
A claw tickles against my cheek. Nose scrunching at the sensation, I whine in the back of my throat. I’m awake earlier than I want, that’s for sure. I’m so cozy where I am.
Last night rushes in. Pulse spiking with the realization that I am still between them. Even though Bucky, at least, is awake. I expect soon I will be excised from their nest to start the day alone.
What I don’t expect is the loving, lingering pressure of lips against mine, my cheek cupped gently by a hand.
Shock crashes over my head like a bucket of ice. My eyes snap open, Bucky retreating with a pleased smile.
A garbled sound spills past my lips—a question and accusation all in one. I rise and push at his coils around me. My stomach roils as I glance over my shoulder, seeing Steve sleeping and at peace.
“What are you doing?” I hiss, trying to stand and fighting back tears.
“Kissing you good morning,” Bucky replies, confusion etched on his brow. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself—” My heart cracks at the pain in his voice, how small it becomes when he apologizes.
I swallow and push myself away from him to stand. “No,” I croak, unable to form a word in a level tone, “You’re with Steve. You can’t just—” My hands flail at the space between us, hoping to shed some kind of logical light on the situation. “Bucky, I can’t do that to you two.”
Steve stirs and awakens. The smile on his lips drops at the sight of me standing above Bucky, tears welling upon my lash line.
“Wait,” Bucky begs, reaching out for me.
I jump away from him instead, a rash decision solidifying in my head the longer I let myself look between them. A sinking feeling in my stomach.
“I’m moving out,” I announce.
“The fuck you are,” Steve retorts immediately, voice still husky with sleep. “Why?”
No one answers him. Bucky’s stunned speechless, eyes just as tear-filled as mine. And I refuse to let Bucky’s slip come between them.
After a moment of glaring between us, Steve huffs an agitated breath. “Will someone just tell me what the fuck has happened?”
“I just need to leave.” It’s not an explanation, but I can’t—I just can’t. After months of watching them together, wishing to be part of it, imagining a perfect world, to have that sweet confirmation of Bucky’s feelings after years of pining for my best friend while he’s with someone else, this last straw has broken me. “I’m so sorry.”
Steve and Bucky both start to say something, their syllables jumbled in my head while I rush from the room. They’re left behind when I stumble into my room and lock the door.
Before a clear thought forms in my head, my phone sits in my hand, calling Natasha. Willing to face her anger at being awoken so early before considering facing either of my roommates.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I chant, waiting to connect.
“This had better be life or death,” Natasha threatens over the line.
Not an ounce of me has the wit to be scared out of. I can only sniffle and say, “Tash, it’s all been fucked up. I—I can’t stay here anymore. Can I—”
She shushes me with a harsh sound. “Tell me what happened.”
“I slept in their nest last night and this morning, Bucky kissed me—like kissed me kissed me. Like he meant it. But he can’t,” I explain, sniffing and wiping my eyes on my arm. “I should never have said yes. I fucked up, Nat. Steve’s gonna hate me once he realizes. And I can’t stay when I know Bucky feels that way about me.” My voice warbles. It’s a miracle Natasha can understand a word I say, most lost in tears and hiccups and sobs.
She curses in Russian, a string of words that grate against my ear as I wait for her to say something I’ll be able to understand. “You,” she snaps over the phone, “Stay put. I’m coming over.”
She doesn’t give me a moment to respond before the call beeps in my ear, signaling that she’s hung up.
Tumblr media
My feet would wear a hole in my rug if Natasha didn’t show up. When I hear the knock on the front door, it’s the only thing that stops me. Waiting and listening for her.
While her knock on the front door is polite, she barges into my room. The door whips in on its hinges and smacks the wall. I jump. Eyes wide and staring at my friend in what I can only assume is a hastily put on outfit of sweatpants which probably belong to Sam, an oversized shirt, and sleep mask acting as a headband for her fiery hair. She’s not even wearing real shoes, socks and fuzzy bunny slippers covering her feet. I can only imagine what she looks like without her glamour.
She mutters under her breath. More foreign phrases I can’t understand while marching behind me and pushing on my shoulders. My head shakes and I dig my heels in, but she’s much stronger than me. I stand no chance, though it doesn’t keep me from trying.
Steve and Bucky glance up as we enter the living room, both sitting on the couch with forlorn expressions marring their features.
My protest perches on my lips, but only an unintelligible noise passes before she shushes me again and sets me beside our friends and my roommates.
“I have to do everything,” she grouses, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring. She lobs what are probably frustrated Russian insults at us before running a hand down her face and groaning in irritation. “You’re all idiots.” She turns to me in a flash of movement, taking her place as the focal point in the room. “You first,” she points at me. “These two,” she gestures to Steve and Bucky, “are in love with you. Madly in love. You confessed your mutual love to them at Clint’s party a few months ago and they think they’ve been dating you ever since.”
My lips part and close. Brain trying to process the revelation. Short circuiting like a computer on the fritz.
“And you two,” Natasha continues, addressing the minotaur and naga, “she was drunk and doesn’t remember telling you. But she still loves you the same. She just didn’t realize what’s been happening.” Her hands raise in the air with a huff. “There! No more misunderstanding.”
Steve gapes at her. But Bucky looks to me, guarded. I’m still frozen, replaying every moment of our lives together since Clint’s birthday party. Piecing together each instance until the picture becomes clear.
Natasha mutters some more, spinning on her heel and marching toward our front door.
Bucky says my name, soft and searching. I snap from my daze and meet his eye.
“Is it true?” I ask, voice near a whisper.
“Yes,” Steve confirms, fingers twitching on his thigh. Wanting to reach over, but hesitant.
“Oh,” I mutter with a hard swallow. “Okay. Good.”
“Good?” Bucky asks, tone tinged with ill-concealed hope.
I nod, tearing up for an entirely happy reason.
“Very good,” I confirm, laughing and vaulting from my seat to tackle both of them to the couch—relieved and ecstatic beyond words.
They wrap me in their arms, tucked tight and safe in their embrace, each taking a moment to press their lips to mine. I sigh and snuggle into them, ready for this next chapter of our lives, finally on the same page.
Tumblr media
116 notes · View notes
lovelybarnes · 1 year
Text
Truth- B. Barnes
Pairings: bucky barnes x reader Warnings: truth serum, ooc (its so hard keeping bucky and a truth serum in the same fic?) About: truth serum, request. (ph1+df31) Forgive for mistakes. why do i kind of hate this now
“Where’s this thing supposed to be again?”
Not missing a beat, you continue to survey the wide lab table in front of you, deft fingers careful when they tilt small vials at an angle so you can squint at the contents. “Things. Where are these things supposed to be.”
“Things, then,” Sam mutters, a fragile clinking noise following.
“Be careful,” you chirp, cocking your head at a thick tube with thick, dark liquid. You hold it up to the light, finally able to read the contents. “Whoa.”
“What?” 
“Did you know Hydra made hair nutrients, essentially? This is, like, the evil solution to baldness.”
“You’re kidding,” Sam crows, stepping closer to examine what you’re holding.
“High amounts of minoxidil, some weird fungus, and something that sounds like finasteride on steroids. Also, probably steroids.”
“Bet they could make a fortune on it.”
“If it works in a way approved by the FDA. Like I said, evil solution.” You grimace and set it back on the desk. “Did you find anything yet?”
“No. There’s slime and weird little liquids everywhere but no big-ass, weirdly-shaped tube marked deadly,” Sam grumbles, nose wrinkling as he catches sight of a limp plant. “Do you think that’s a normal dead plant? Or something freaky and poisonous?”
“Probably the latter,” you hum. “And I really, really doubt Hydra would be so stupid as to have the most cliched image of a toxin representing their mysterious poison.” You pause at a large, bumpy glass. “This one is pretty weird,” you say contrastingly, carefully picking it up with two gloved fingers. “Von innen brennt,” you read.
“What does that mean?” Sam asks.
“Burn from within.” You inhale sharply, and tuck it into your chemical storage container. “I really don’t think we should be leaving this in here,” you reason.
“I don’t think we should be leaving anything in here,” Sam adds, pointing to another bottle. “Weltschmerz,” he recites. “What’s that?”
“It’s… it’s apathy. There’s no good translation but it literally means ‘world pain,’” you frown as you grab it, too, twisting it in your fingers. “Bruce and I are going to have a field day.” You tuck it inside the container and purse your lips. “In a morose way.”
Sam shoots you a quick look. “Right.”
You bring your index to your ear and connect to Bucky’s channel. “Hey, how’re you doing?”
“I fuckin’ hate Hydra.”
“Yeah, it’s not great over here, either. We still have that huge lab to check over; are you done with yours?”
“Yeah, I’ll meet you there.”
You confirm, scanning the room once more and sighing softly. “Be careful, okay?”
“I am.”
“Then continue,” you quip, narrowing your eyes at a fat bottle with a tiny opening, translucent candy red sticky inside of it. You poke it to teeter so you can see the label, seeing something unintelligible but missing the necessary ideogram. “We’re not even sure what this stuff is yet.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out the moment you see it,” Bucky comforts. Your face heats up, lips pulled to one side as you avoid Sam’s raised eyebrow.
“Right,” you mumble, straightening up. “Uh, we should probably head over there now.”
“Right,” Sam parrots, long and curved with a smile.
You shoot him a look over your shoulder as you walk out, disconnecting from Bucky before responding. “Shut up.”
“I’m not doing anything!” he argues, hands up in surrender. He follows you out chuckling.
“You know exactly what you’re doing,” you murmur, shooting him a final glare as you turn a corner into another dull hall. Grimly, you observe the doors you pass them, perking up when you hear familiar muted footsteps ahead.
Bucky catches your eye, lips turning up a little at the sight of you. You catch his pupils flicker down your figure once you’re closer, snagging on a darkened spot right above your right knee.
“I spilled some water,” you explain, fingers dipping unconsciously to brush against the purported area. “No harm done.”
He moves and the ruby tucked in the crevice of his thumbnail catches your eye. Like an instinct, you reach for his hand, a frown pulling on your lips as you observe the small gash on his thumb. 
“Hangnail,” he responds to your silent question, rubbing small circles into the side of your palm. “M’okay.” 
You’re pleased to affirm so, bumping his shoulder gently after you sneak a glance at Sam. “Okay. How’re you doing, hangnail aside?” 
His eyes constellate among your features and he manages some sort of comfort in his expression. “Bored.”
“Great.” Your voice is soft and pleased. He agrees.
You fall silent once again when the intended lab comes into view, Bucky’s large frame stepping half in front of you to prevent you from getting to it first. He pushes the door open before you can, left hand hovering above his weapon as he scans a room already cleared before letting you in, the same fingers that reached for a gun now grazing the small of your back.
Sam raises an eyebrow but remains silent, watching Bucky’s eyes follow you as you head toward the other side of the room to look through a multitude of vials. They don’t waver even after you spare him a reassuring glance crinkled with a tiny smile.
Quietly, he walks over to Bucky, who’s definitely aware of the movement but startles when he leans in close and taps his shoulder. “Strange man-made horror to find,” he reminds. “You can stare later.”
Bucky squares his jaw, metal fingers moving to graze uselessly along the glasses. “I’m aware, Sam.”
“Uh huh.”
It’s nearly silent then, tinged by brittle clinking and quick glances so heavy they seem loud.
Bucky is tired. Sam is tired. Most importantly, you’re tired—and it makes someone like Bucky a little careless.
He’s very sure he won’t be the one who finds the culprit matching Bruce’s description, which means he isn’t as careful as he should be when he ducks his head and inhales something so pungent it’s startling. He flinches back, making the steel shelf teeter. Both his hands shoot out to steady it, flesh fingers bending close to an undulating liquid that spills little bubbles onto his skin, burning sharply into the broken crevices of his nails.
What follows is worse. Clandestinely, a smudged window closes around his brain. It’s subtle and awful, like his mind processes become blurry and slow while outwardly remaining consistent. He keeps himself from stumbling but is sure his eyes round dismally, blinking owlishly as he struggles to catch up with himself.
It all happens in the quick span of a second before he opens his eyes and everything seems normal again, although something tugs thinly from the back of his mind. Super-soldier sanity, he guesses. He looks down at the cause and sees a match, vial open and a dizzyingly clear liquid stationary inside. A red symbol stamps the label, unnamed.
“I think I have something,” he says, cringing at how far away he sounds. Just when he feels the prickling of doubt, everything clicks into agonizingly perfect place. “This might be it.” Unthinkingly, he curves a finger around the neck of the bottle and holds it up.
“Whoa, there,” Sam warns.
You’re next to him fast, taking it away carefully.
“It was open when I found it,” Bucky supplies.
You nod at him distractedly, producing a lid from your pocket to close the beaker and observe it, thankfully protected fingers twisting it around in the light. 
“It matches the description,” he adds.
“Yes,” you mumble distractedly, half in response to him and half in thought. “This is it,” you lower it into your transfer box and grin up earnestly at him when you close it, “good job, Bucky.” It’s very sweet.
“Thank you,” he murmurs. “S’what is it?”
“I’m not that smart,” you laugh.
Bucky disagrees.
“It’s probably not too dangerous. Not airborne, at least, since it was uncapped like that.” you contemplate a little more, looking back up at Bucky. Your pupils set in a way more calculating. “How close did you get to this? Did you inhale it?”
“No. I don’t think so. I smelled something, but it wasn’t that.” Bucky juts a finger behind him. “Maybe the rotted plant. Probably.” 
“Okay.” You say it rounded, edged with lightly veiled concern. “Tell me if you feel weird at all, okay?”
“Of course.”
Sam comes up from behind you, annoyed. “Okay. Are we done here? Can y’all flirt on the jet? I’m hungry.”
“You get so bitter when you’re jealous,” you bite, shooting Bucky a final, doubtful glance before tugging on his hand to leave.
“Am I so transparent,” Sam deadpans.
Bucky contemplates his strange state as he trudges back to the jet, taking quick notice of how dry his mouth has become, his tongue voluble. What he’s hazed with reminds him of oak bar tables and smoke, drunk confidence summery in his chest. He feels fine, he’s sixty-three percent sure. He thinks.
He’s in front of the jet before he can process the journey over, trying to shake away what feels like a creasing tug to his cling film mind. Your eyes are on him, and it looks like it’s not the first time, lashes kissing anxiously. Sam clambers inside, and you wait for Bucky right next to the doors.
“Are you okay?”
“Tired,” he tells you.
You’re about to respond when Sam shouts for you to hurry. Bucky scowls in his general direction, although it dissolves at your amusement.
“It’s okay, c’mon.” You guide him inside, seemingly unbothered as he follows you around like a puppy. “Do you want to take a nap on the way back?”
“Can I sleep on you?” he asks too rawly. You startle subtly with it, but recover quickly, a pale beam on your features.
“Yeah.” You smile at him, entirely saccharine. “Let me just get everything into the containment units.”
He sits in the seat next to your usual spot and stares after you as you walk away, appreciating the concentrated point of your expression as you fiddle with the storage settings.
“Maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance,” Sam cuts in, slumping next to him.
“I do talk to her,” Bucky argues. “I talk to her all the time. It’s just… she’s pretty.”
Sam struggles for a response for a second. “Oh-kay.”
“Do you really think I’d have a chance?” Bucky finds himself saying, unsure where his mouth has gotten permission to voice his thoughts. He clutches the suddenly few tendrils of control and tries his best to filter his thoughts. It’s too bad he can’t take things back.
Sam gapes. “What?”
“Nothing,” Bucky forces through his teeth, feeling like he wants to puke. Unexpectedly, words feel so much easier to spill out than silence.
Lovely warmth touches his knees. He doesn’t need to look up to know it’s you, your presence something deftly familiar.
Up close, you’re even more captivating when he finally meets your gaze. He holds back from reaching for you, digging his fingernails into his palm to restrain them from curling around your wrist. He wants you closer.
Your sweet features furrow, sparkly eyes catching on his heated forehead and dilated pupils. “Bucky, are you okay?”
“Can I touch you?” he asks, a little desperate from gating the inclination.
“What?”
“He’s acting weirder than usual,” Sam provides.
“Bucky, sweetheart,” unauthorized, he softens at the nickname, “did you inhale anything? Do you feel okay?”
“Some of it got on me. Are you okay?”
“I’m okay. It got on your skin?” You pull on gloves. “Show me where?”
He raises his right hand for you to examine, inhaling sharply when you take notice of the small gash on his thumb again.
“Okay,” you breathe, slowly and then assured. You grab his hand. He blinks. “Come on.” You say, tugging him to the sink and spraying water up to his elbow. “It might’ve entered your bloodstream, we have to wash it out. Sam, call the team, get Bruce working on exactly what it is.” You push Bucky into an isolation unit. “Probably not contagious, probably not deadly,” you mutter to yourself. “We found it nearly half an hour ago. More severe signs would have started by now.”
“It was a level three at worst,” Bucky says, but stays willingly, watching you. “It’s probably one or two. I feel fine, just… uninhibited. Reminds me of getting drunk back then.”
You shake your head, confused, edging on frantic. “Drunk?”
“It hurts to not tell you things.”
“It hurts?” You’ve never felt more helpless, only able to repeat his symptoms in an attempt to inspire some helpful memory from your research.
“More than usual.”
“Bruce says isolation!” Sam calls. “I quote: ‘There’s probably no need, but better safe than sorry.’”
“She knows!” Bucky shouts, eyes on you.
“He sounds fine. Just as annoying,” Sam chatters away to Bruce, and Bucky tunes him out, concentrating on the concerned lines of your face.
“Sam’s worried,” he thinks out loud. “So are you.”
“I am. You’re sweating, Buck.” You examine his face, fingertips bumping into the panel.
“Don’t worry,” he tries to soothe, his own fingers thumping against the separation barrier when he attempts to touch you. “If anything, this is a little bit of a relief. I don’t need Thor.”
You snort lightly. “You’re insane.”
“A little. Not stable, definitely,” he admits.
You hum lowly, biting your bottom lip, pupils quickly inspecting his features. Before Bucky can comment on it, you voice your thoughts. “Okay. I’m gonna test out a theory. I’ll ask you some questions and you just have to answer. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes,” he answers, then, unnecessarily: “I don’t think it would be if it were anyone else.”
You graciously ignore it, only ducking your chin. “What’s your full name?”
“James Buchanan Barnes. But Steve’s right, that sounds a little snotty, doesn’t it? What do you think?”
You laugh. “I like your name. When were you born?”
“March tenth, nineteen-seventeen.” He frowns. “Damn. Just when I was reeling you in with the name thing.”
“Where do you live?” you ask, ignoring his comment.
He prattles off the address to his apartment. “Also you.”
“Me? I’m not…”
“You are,” he interrupts, glancing up at you anxiously. There’s so much he wants to tell you on the tip of his tongue, so much he doesn’t want to be forced to. Not right now. Not like this.
You catch his meaning and move on, eyes thinning accusatorily. “Are you the one who broke my mug?” 
“Yes, I knocked it off the table. But it was Sam’s fault, he pushed me into it.”
“I knew it,” you mutter bitterly, leaning back, limbs less tense. “I’m pretty sure we’re dealing with truth serum.”
“That’s not too bad. Considering the options,” Bucky says. “It makes sense. I feel… I want to tell you everything.”
“Effective.” 
“Thank you for not asking anything too invasive,” he says.
“I wouldn’t,” you respond.
“This shouldn’t be affecting me,” he continues. “The serum stops the effects. They must have made it stronger.”
You pause. “What?” Then, remembering his situation. “Nothing. Never mind. Do you have any pets?”
“A cat. You know Alpine, she loves you. But I know you like dogs.”
You tilt your head, wanting to ask further, but you stop yourself. “I do like dogs.”
“That’s why I’m getting you a dog for your birthday.”
You beam in surprise. “You are? Wait—”
“I keep looking but I can’t find the right one. I was thinking maybe it’d be better for you to come along, but I was supposed to think about that for a little longer.”
“Sam!” you call. “I feel like I shouldn’t be hearing this,” you confess to him, wringing your fingers in wait for the neutral party.
“No, you’re not supposed to know that.”
“I’m sorry. It’s weird it’s affecting you so much, it must be made for enhanced.”
“You figured it out?” Sam asks. 
“Truth serum, I’m pretty sure. Really strong truth serum, from the looks of it.”
“You have to leave,” Sam says immediately.
“What?” you ask, confused for what seems like the millionth time. “No. I want to stay with him.” Your face twists in concern again.
“I want her to stay with me, too,” Bucky adds.
“No, you don’t,” Sam commands. “Who knows… what you might say in front of—” he points at you, enunciating your name with an italic and a gesture. “You should leave,” he turns to you.
“You’re going to take advantage of me,” Bucky accuses.
“Have you been lying to me?” Sam questions. “I am only interested in confirming. Like: did you or did you not break Redwing two months ago—”
“Sam!” you interrupt.
“Come on. Do you know how much food has disappeared? Water bottles dented?”
“I told you that wasn’t me,” Bucky grumbles, leaning against the wall.
“That’s true. That’s what you told me, but what’s true and what you said can be—”
You glare at him. “Stop it.”
He hmphs. “Fine. I’ll settle. He owes me thirty bucks.”
“Whatever. Go make sure everything’s okay up front, I have to give Bucky some meds. Friday, did you activate isolation protocol?” She affirms as you open the door to Bucky’s unit. It’s cold when you step inside, but when you reach Bucky, he’s burning. “Bucky, how are you feeling?”
“Fine.” He looks up at you, pupils dark and blown. He can’t stop his hand when it lands on you, but you don’t seem to mind, leaning in close enough to his face for him to catch the little details of your face. He clears his throat. “Now I’m a little hot.”
You wipe hair from his sticky forehead, taking a small napkin from your pocket to wipe sweat from his brow. “I can see that. Friday, can you lower the temperature in here?”
“You’re gonna get cold.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“I always worry about you. You can’t ask me to do that.”
You stare down at him worriedly, thumb rubbing gently at his temple. There’s a hiss nearby, and three pills in a little cup stand on the table. You grab them and hand them to Bucky.
“Take these.” You point to the pale tablets, three in a single container. “They’re a precaution and the blue one,” you pinch it to show it to him, “should make this pass a little quicker.”
He takes the blue one first.
“Five minutes ago, we didn’t know what it was,” Bucky says. “You’re amazing.”
“Friday’s amazing. All I do is hand things to you.”
“You’re amazing.” 
You chuckle, observing his eyes. Purely clinical. “Okay. You are, too.”
Bucky bites his lip. “You don’t believe me.”
“I do.”
“You don’t. You’re amusing me.”
You look genuinely offended. “Absolutely not.”
Bucky cracks a smile. “You have a tell.”
“Bucky Barnes.”
“It’s in your lips. You purse them a little. Like even you can’t believe yourself.”
You pinch his lips closed with your index and thumb. He stares up at you with wide, blazing eyes.
“I won’t complain,” he says, muffled.
“You should! Don’t be so nice to me, Barnes.”
“I like it better when you call me Bucky.”
“Really? Everyone on the team calls you Barnes.”
“I said you, not the team.”
You let go of him, eyes sorry. Your thumb bends, the bone tracing along his bottom lip. You’re so close. He wants to echo his realization so badly.
“You’re so close.”
“I’m sorry.” You move to take a step back.
“No,” he protests, reaching for you again.
“What?” You laugh.
“I’m in love with you.”
The very first thing he feels is great, overwhelming relief. Like something had been interfering with his breathing and his feeling and his being and it was removed.
And then came the panic, thickened with fear of the consequences of his honesty and very thinly edged with something nicer.
You haven’t moved since he admitted it, pretty features contorted in neutral shock. He wants to know you so well, he can tell if it’s good or bad.
“I didn’t mean to say that.” He gulps, wanting very badly to let go of you but unable to do so. “Does that blue pill make it a lot worse before it gets better?”
You stare at him.
“Say something, please. I didn’t mean to say that. I don’t want to—I never wanted to tell you that.”
“Why?” you ask finally. Your brows are knitted, the edges of your features dipped in pain.
“Because I’m in love with you.”
You don’t say anything, but your lips part, the sorrowful border of your features softening. “I… I really want to kiss you right now.”
Bucky freezes. “What?”
Your face heats, pupils flickering away from him. You clear your throat. “But you’re in a vulnerable position right now and I don’t want to take advantage of that. I want you to tell me because you chose to.”
“You’re saying…”
“Yeah.”
Bucky really wants to kiss you too. “Why?”
“Because I think you deserve honesty.”
Bucky really, really wants to kiss you. He cracks an unfiltered smile, although it’s not entirely because of the serum. “Damn.”
“What?” you ask uneasily.
“I’m really fuckin’ lucky.’
2K notes · View notes
Text
The AnonymityIsFun Loves Tangled List
A working list of all of the times I've mentioned and/or referenced Tangled in any of my fics:
Two Sides of The Same Coin ☀️💕❤️‍🩹 🖤 Fond of You ☀️❤️‍🩹 Jealousy, Jealousy ☀️❤️‍🩹 The Karaoke Bar ☀️💕 Alpine ☀️💕 The Fate’s Design ❤️‍🩹🖤 Pal-entine's Day ☀️💕
Part of The Grumpy x Sunshine Series ☀️ Tooth Rotting Fluff 💕 Angst 🖤 Hurt Comfort ❤️‍🩹
AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Grumpy Sunshine Series Inspired By Taylor Swift Series
12 notes · View notes
marvelouslizzie · 26 days
Text
One More Night
Summary: You and Bucky Barnes are fuck buddies for a while. The problem is you have feelings for him but you don't think he reciprocates and it just makes it impossible to continue your relationship. Little did you know how much he wants you and how hard he's trying to keep it casual.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: +18, friends with benefits, idiots in love, unspoken feelings, miscommunication/misunderstandings, angst with happy ending, unprotected sex, pet names, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 3.4K
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
Tumblr media
It is one of those days when you feel absolutely worthless. It wasn’t something you felt often before but now…. It is starting to feel like your new normal. You know it’s your fault, and it just makes you feel even worse. You let this happen when you let Bucky Barnes walk into your life without any consequences. Now he just has a free pass to destroy you anytime he wants. 
It was supposed to be just fun. Something casual because you know he has no intention of settling down. Especially not with you. Not that he said any of those words but he doesn’t need to. You just know it. 
He’s one of the popular guys in your college. It’s not surprising considering how handsome and charming he is. He’s also talented and hard-working. He takes school seriously unlike a lot of people around you. So when it comes to his free time, he just wants to have some fun, no strings attached and you were fine with this arrangement. You wanted to be close to him and this is the price: Your heart breaks every time. 
You don’t blame him but you definitely blame yourself because you put yourself in this position. If you weren’t so pathetic, you could simply say no and this regularly hooking-up arrangement of yours would have ended. Yet you never said no and he never stopped coming back to you. Probably because it’s convenient, you can’t come up with any other reason. Like who says no to an easy fuck, right? That is what you are. An easy fuck. Still, it’s breaking your heart every time he leaves your bed. You say to yourself “This is gonna be the last time” but when the next text or call comes, you fold once again. 
That’s how you ended up here. Your face is buried in the pillow while Bucky is pounding you from behind. It feels good. Actually, it feels pretty amazing. It always does but this time your emotions are overshadowing the physical pleasure. Tears are streaming down your face and you are grateful that he can’t see it thanks to this position. Then a sob escapes your mouth and you feel betrayed by your own body.
“Does it feel that good, doll?” He sounds smug but you can’t answer him. Not while trying to hold the rest of your sobs back. That seems to worry him. He suddenly stops and when he takes a closer look sees that your eyes are filled with tears.
“Hey, hey, hey! Are you alright?” He sounds genuinely worried. You try to say something but instead, more sobs come out. “What happened? Did I hurt you?”
He didn’t physically hurt you, yet you are hurt. You don’t know how to explain this to him. You feel embarrassed and angry at the same time. You pride yourself on how good you are at hiding your emotions. You don’t want anyone to see you cry. You don’t want anyone’s pity. Yet here you are. Eyes filled with tears, sobs escaping your lips and your heart is shattered.
“Please talk to me!” His desperate tone snaps you out of your thoughts. You try to turn on your back and quickly dry your tears. 
“It’s fine. Sorry for killing the mood. I just…” You hesitate for a second but no, you won’t back down this time. “I just can’t do this anymore.”
“That’s fine.” That wasn’t the response you were expecting. “You know it’s okay right?” His worry is so apparent in his voice. “You can always tell me to stop.” What is he talking about? “If you don’t like something or you don’t feel like it anymore… Just tell me next time and I will just stop.”
“There’s no next time Bucky.” The words come out of your mouth before you can process them. You didn’t intend to be so harsh but it came out so definite.
“What?”
“I’m telling you that I can’t do this…” You wave your hand between you two. “...anymore. I’m done. We are done.” 
“What…” He sounds shocked and hurt at the same time. You try to avoid looking at his eyes while he struggles to find the right words. “What are you talking about? Did I do something?”
“You didn’t do anything. It’s all my fault.” You have no intention to blame him. You know it’s on you. He never promised you anything.
“I don’t understand.” He sounds so lost. “Just help me understand what happened, okay? I thought everything was okay.”
“They were, for you. It was never okay for me.” 
You watch how his expression changes into something that breaks your heart even more. You never thought he would care this much but… apparently, he does. Maybe he’s not used to being rejected. Especially in the middle of sex.
“I… I don’t know what to say.” He looks at your face and then around. “I thought this is what you wanted.”
“What I wanted?” You repeat his words without missing a beat. “I never wanted this. This is what you wanted and that’s why we kept doing it. I was just…” You hesitate for a second because you hate to admit it. “weak.”
“Weak? You are never weak.”
“Oh, I am weak. This is why I kept saying ‘one more night’ to myself whenever you called or texted me. I’m weak as fuck and it makes me angry, okay? I shouldn’t be like this.”
“Doll, what are you talking about?”
His confusion confuses you as well. Can’t he see how much he’s hurting you? Is he really that blind or maybe he just doesn’t care.
“This arrangement might be working for you but it’s not working for me, okay?”
“But… this is what you wanted.”
“I never wanted this.”
“You said we can’t get emotions involved!” He sounds somewhat angry this time.
“Because you didn’t want emotions involved!” Your answer comes instantly.
“When did I ever say that?”
His question makes you stop for a second. He never said that but did he really have to? You know how popular he is. Everybody loves him. He has the prettiest face you have ever seen. You desperately wanted to be with him. You didn’t care how.
“Just look at you.”
“What does that even mean?” Is he doing this on purpose? He surely knows everybody wants him. Why does he have to hear it from you?
“It means you didn’t have to say it.”
“How does… I really don’t understand you.” His confusion is written all over his face. The way he hesitates makes you realize you have to say it out loud to make him understand.
“You are handsome. You are talented. Everybody loves you.” He keeps looking at you with confusion. He really doesn’t get it, does he? “You can have anybody you want!”
“Apparently not.” Why does he sound broken?
“Oh, come on!” Your reaction is instant. “You know you can. Don’t act humble. I’m just easier.”
“Easier?” You don’t miss the disbelief in his voice. “Easier?” This time it comes out more angry. “You were never easy!”
“You know what I mean. An easy fu-”
“Don’t you fucking dare!” The tone of his voice startles you. You never heard him talk like this. “I never wanted just an easy fuck. Especially not with you but that was all I could get!” Your head flinches back slightly. What is he talking about? 
“Bucky…” He doesn’t let you continue. 
“I don’t know what has gotten into you because this… what you called it? Arrangement, yes, was never my idea! You were the one who didn’t want to involve emotions. You were the one who said anything more than this would affect our friendship. I never said that!”
“I was trying to protect myself!”
“You never showed any interest to me!”
You blink a couple of times, trying to process that information. What did he think you were doing with him?
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You never showed any interest in staying over. You never wanted to do anything outside the bedroom or wherever the fuck we were fucking. Whenever I tried to take you on a date, you came up with a lazy excuse.”
“Uh… what?”
“I tried so many times, sweetheart. You never let me in. You were only interested in sex and now you are blaming me for it. No. Be honest. If you wanna end this thing, it’s fine. You don’t need any lies. I get it. I knew it would happen eventually.” He’s speaking so fast, you can’t even find any opportunity to interrupt him until he stops.
“You tried to take me on dates?” He squishes his eyebrows together like he can’t believe you are focusing on that part.
“Many times. I suggested study dates, tried to take you on that concert, then that one comedy club thing…”
“I thought…” You don’t know how to finish that sentence.
“You thought what? You knew what I was trying to do and you weren’t interested, so I finally gave up.”
“No, no, no.” You jump from your awkward position on the bed. “I never realized.”
“What did you think I was doing?”
“I thought… they were activities with other… people. Not dates.”
“Why would I take other people to a concert with us?” Oh, he really doesn’t get it.
“I thought… you had plans with your friends and… you were… inviting me as well. Just to show… we are nothing more than friends.”
“Oh, dear god.” He covers his face with both of his hands. “Seriously? Why would you even think that?”
You mimic him and cover your face with embarrassment. You don’t want to say it. Especially not to him.
“I… just never thought…” You don’t know how to say it without making him realize how low you think of yourself. “You were interested in anything more than sex.”
“I’m handsome. I’m popular. Everybody loves me. Is that why?” He repeats your words with that god-awful mocking tone and it hurts to hear. What you don’t realize is that he’s making fun of himself.
“Yeah.” Your response comes out so weakly but he hears it.
He starts to laugh all of a sudden and all you can do is give him a confused look. 
“God you are so blind.”
“Hey!” You instantly respond.
“Have you ever looked in the mirror?” You make a face but it just spurs him. “You are gorgeous and smart. I always thought you were way out of my league.”
“What?”
“You heard me. You are out of my league.”
“Come on… That’s-” He interrupts you again.
“Please.” The way he says it makes you stop talking. “I have been struggling to come to terms with you not liking me. I just told myself, you have done everything you can. You tried so many times. It’s a miracle she still wants to fuck you. I convinced myself this was all I could get so I tried to make peace with it. Now you are telling me you don’t want to keep doing this. What did you think I was gonna think?”
He just baffles you with every word coming out of his mouth. You look at him, not knowing what to say or what to think, even.
“And you thought you were just an easy fuck? Jesus, doll. Do you have any idea how many times I prepared myself for rejection? Every time I called you, I thought you weren’t gonna pick up. Every time I texted you, I prepared myself to hear ‘no’, and every time it did not come, I was the happiest man on earth because I had one more night with you!”
You don’t know when it started but you start to feel tears filling your eyes.
“Please don’t cry anymore.” He moves his hand on your face and catches a tear before it drops on your cheeks.
“I…” It’s so hard to speak normally. “I never thought…”
“What?” This time it comes out softer. You know he wants to hear it because he needs that assurance as much as you do.
“You would actually like me.”
“Like you? Oh, doll… I don’t like you. The word like doesn’t even cover it.” The smile he gives you ignites something inside you. Something you tried to push down for a long time. Suddenly you push him back a little bit and his mouth falls open but he doesn’t get the chance to say anything. You just sit on his lap, taking him back inside you and it slips right back in so easily. It makes you want to moan out loud but instead, you wrap your legs around his torso and trap him there.
“Oh fuck…” His moan is like music to your ears. It’s so raw and unfiltered.
You don’t say anything. Your hand wraps around his neck before you start to move. His hand quickly finds your breasts, squeezing them a lot harder than he ever did before. 
“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He says right next to your ear. You feel his breath on your neck and his lips attach to your neck as if he knows what you want. He starts gently. First, he sucks the skin and makes you whimper. Then his teeth graze the sore skin. When he finally bites the same spot, you realize he was just giving you some time to protest but it never came. His bite pulls a groan out of you and the way it hurts falters your rhythm.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” He licks the same spot, trying to soothe the pain. “There’s a part of me…” He tries to find the right word. “...that wants to mark you. Show the world that you’re mine.” Fuck, is he serious? He stops for another second to ask “Are you mine, doll?” He sounds so nervous yet possessive.
“I am.” You move a little back and look into his eyes while saying that. “I have been for a long time.”
He grabs your cheeks with both of his hands and pulls you in for a long, passionate kiss. It's all tongue and teeth, making you burn with passion.
“I’m yours, too. I think I always have been.” 
It’s your turn to show how much those words mean to you. You start to move again on his lap. This time it’s faster than before and it just makes both of you moan loudly. He wraps his arms around your body while he supports your movement by grabbing your ass and moving you a bit faster than before.
“Shit!” It feels good but it also restricts your range of movement and he realizes it quickly.
“Sorry. I just want to feel you all over me.”
You want to say it’s alright but he’s a lot faster than you. Suddenly you find yourself on your back. Bucky’s still between your legs. He never left inside you while changing the position. 
“Wrap your legs around me, baby.” 
God, the way he says it sounds like a soft order. You can practically feel the desire running through your veins. Your legs are automatically wrapped around his ass while he starts to move but he doesn’t put any distance between you. His whole body is pressed against yours while he’s kissing and licking all over your neck.
Sex with Bucky never felt like this. It was always good. You don’t remember any occasion you didn’t enjoy it or reach orgasm. Yet this feels like real intimacy. The way he’s making you feel is indescribable. You can feel everything he said before while he moves inside you. How much he wants you, how much he adores you… The way he clings to you fills you with love. All of it enhances the physical pleasure. Loud moans escape your lips.
“So… All this time…” Bucky starts to talk. “You thought I was here because this is easy.”
Ah, fuck. He isn’t gonna let that go, is he? You should’ve known that. You roll your eyes in response but he doesn’t see it. His head is still buried in the crook of your neck.
“All this time… I was where I wanted to be.” Your annoyance quickly fades away as he keeps talking. “Underneath your body.”
“You weren’t always underneath me.” You answer him with a playful tone.
“As long as I’m inside you, the position doesn’t matter.”
“So…” You try to ask as quickly as possible before your sudden courage disappears. “You haven’t been sleeping around with anyone else.”
He raises his head just to look into your eyes. 
“All this time, you thought I was fucking other people?”
“I mean…” You were just friends with benefits. What else you were supposed to assume?
“Were you?”
“Was I what?”
“Fucking other people?” His question is a lot more blunt than yours.
“I asked first!” You sound so defensive all of a sudden.
“I can’t live without touching you, smelling you, feeling you… I have been craving you non-stop, only stopping myself from calling you every day, just so I wouldn’t scare you away and you are asking me if I have been fucking other people. Jesus Christ, doll. How blind are you?”
You are questioning the same thing yourself, to be honest. How blind were you? While trying to surpass your feelings, you were overlooking his, as well. It’s just unbelievable.
“Doll?” You didn’t realize you were lost in thoughts. “It’s fine if you have been.” It doesn’t sound fine at all. It sounds like he’s trying to rationalize it so it would hurt less. “I’m not saying I won’t be jealous but it’s not like we were actually together.”
You start to laugh and he gives you a strange look.
“You are such an idiot and you call me blind.”
“What?”
“I only ever wanted you, you moron.” 
His smile is so big and bright, it’s worth everything you two went through. His happiness is practically radiating. Suddenly, his lips are on yours, kissing you like a madman.
“You’re only mine.” He starts to move inside you again and you can feel how close you are to coming.
“Only yours.” Your words make him groan loudly. 
“Fuck that mouth of yours. You’re gonna make me come before you.”
“You can do that later.” You tease him while moving your hips to meet him.
“Is that a promise?”
“It can be. Only if you fuck me just a little harder so I can finally come!”
That makes him move away from you. He stands up and without losing any time, pulls you on the edge of the bed. You know what’s coming and it makes you smile like a fool. He positions himself between your legs while pushing your knees on your chest. In a couple of seconds, he’s back inside you but the position feels so much better this time. A loud moan leaves your lips every time he hits that sweet spot inside you.
“Harder, huh?”
“Yeah. Just like that.” It’s so hard to not roll your eyes with the pleasure he’s giving you. It’s familiar yet it feels so different this time.
“My girl wants it rough. Why didn’t you just say so?” He sounds cocky there’s also a hint of eagerness in his voice. You can tell he’s close.
“Do I have to tell you everything?” 
“From now on, yes. You have to tell me everything.” That authoritative tone pushes you over the edge. “Every fucking thing you feel, okay? Every fucking thing you want. I wanna know everything!”
“Yes!” You practically scream. You don’t know if you are answering him or just screaming because of the way he makes you feel. Your legs are shaking violently while your whole body tightens up. “Fuck yes. Please, please, please, don’t stop!” Your eyes are closed while you are riding your high.
That makes him groan so loudly. Even though you can’t directly look at his face anymore, you just know he’s about to come. He starts to pound on you so forcefully, it just unlocks another level of orgasm for you. Both of your moans fill the room and he keeps going until he empties himself inside you. After what feels like an eternity, he pulls out of you and lays right next to you.
“Fuck, that was…” The struggles to find the right word.
“On another level?” You offer to end the sentence for him. That’s exactly how you feel.
“Yeah.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “We should’ve talked to each other before.”
“We were busy doing other stuff.” You smile and he smiles back, knowing exactly what you mean.
“I guess we did everything other than talking things through, huh?”
2K notes · View notes
kinanabinks · 2 years
Note
i wanna see more mob Bucky and fairy “didn’t mean to get carried away” moments <3
slut
friends having fun
Tumblr media
18+
after a night out, you and bucky get a little carried away.
Content Warning: Mob!Bucky x Best Friend!Reader, mature themes, fluff, idiots in love, horny perv!bucky, smut while both parties are slightly drunk (coercion, nipple play, dry humping).
Series Masterlist
Tumblr media
"That was terrifying!" You exclaim as you burst into your apartment, eyes wide. "I thought Sam was about to pull his gun out!"
Bucky laughs heartily, locking the door behind him. "Samuel is far too sensible for that," He claims, following you through to your bedroom where you sit on the bed with a thump. Sitting down behind you, he pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you. "Tonight was fun."
"Up until Sam got into an MMA fight, sure," You say with a snort.
He lets out a loud sigh, looking down at your chest with a smirk. "Are you cold, fairy?"
"A little, why?" You ask with a frown.
"Your nipples are hard," He comments smugly.
"Perv," You grumble, nudging his chest.
"Can't help it; they're practically poking my eyes out," He teases you. "They look very... flickable."
"Don't you dare," You warn him lowly, glaring up at him.
"I won't, baby," He assures you, gently rocking you back and forth. The two of you sway like that for a few pleasant moments, as the effect of all the drinks you consumed settles in. Just as you relax, though, you suddenly feel a sharp twang on your left nipple.
"Bucky!" You yell, shocked.
"I couldn't help it!" He claims with a hearty laugh, before doing it again. This time, you let out a whimper as an electric burst of pleasure shoots through you. He smirks at the noise, pulling you closer. "You liked that, didn't you?"
"Jamie," You whisper, blinking up at him.
He continues flicking your nipples while you pretend to be annoyed, all the while letting out little noises of pleasure as you feel your panties soak. Fuck.
"Is this okay?" He mumbles into your ear. "You like when I rub little circles on them, like this?"
You buck your hips up, shivering. "Jamie."
"It's okay," He whispers soothingly. "It's only me, fairy. It's only your Jamie."
He pulls them through the thin fabric of your dress, squeezing and twisting them with expertise. The moans you try desparately to hide make his cock harder than ever as he plays with your tits, pressing kisses to your neck.
"Jamie, you shouldn't," You say weakly.
"Shh, fairy, it's okay," He tells you. "We're just having some fun. There's nothing wrong with friends having fun, is there?"
A shuddered moan is all you respond with as your legs squeeze together, your heat aching for some stimulation.
"Let's lay down, baby," Bucky suggests, giving you no choice in the matter as he picks you up and places you down on your bed with your head on the pillow. He climbs on top of you, stroking his hands up your waist while biting his lip. "Can I see them?"
You suck in a breath at his request. "Jamie, we can't."
"Yes, we can," He assures you gently, spreading your legs and slotting himself between them. "Just let me see 'em."
Allowing him to pull down your dress, you feel your heart race. Bucky bites back a growl as your chest is revealed to him, his cock already leaking with precum in his pants. His fingers immediately begin to play with your nipples again, making you squirm beneath him.
Letting out a shaky breath, his eyes flicker up to yours. "Can I suck them?" He asks you darkly.
The breath is stolen from your lungs.
"I wanna suck 'em so fucking bad," Bucky groans into your ear, unable to remain calm. "I'm gonna suck 'em."
You gasp as his mouth latches onto your nipple, sucking it hungrily. His tongue swirls around your hard nub while his lips suck it into his mouth, and his hand moves up to play with your neglected boob. Melodious moans leave your mouth uncontrollably and Bucky can't help but grind his incredibly hard boner against your crotch. His thrusts cause your dress to rise up, giving him easier access to your heat.
"So good," He groans around your tit, slobbering on it while looking up at you with darkened eyes. Then, he sticks his tongue out and flicks your nipple with it repeatedly, making your hips buck up.
"Jamie," You whine, tugging on his hair. "This is so bad."
"Shh, baby, it's okay," Bucky whispers, continuing to dry hump you. "It's okay."
He lets out low grunts as his cock rubs against you, harder than ever. The sight of your tits bouncing with each of his thrusts serves drives him crazy, only making him thrust faster.
"Fuck, I can't stop," He groans against your neck, rubbing your nipples with his thumbs. "I don't wanna stop, fairy."
Letting out a moan, you dig your nails into his shoulder. "Don't stop, Jamie," You purr.
He almost freezes at your words, lifting his head up to look down at you with dark desire in his eyes. "Fuck. Say that again."
With a whimper, you repeat, "Don't stop, Jamie."
Bucky groans loudly, thrusting against you faster as you feel your climax build up. "Again," He growls.
"Don't stop," You cry, throwing your head back as you let go. "I'm cumming, Jamie, please don't stop, please let me cum."
"Fuck," He drags out, shuddering as he cums in his pants against your throbbing cunt. "Oh, shit, fuck, fairy, oh my God."
You let out weak whimpers as pleasure courses through your body, setting alight every inch of your skin. Shaking beneath him, you run your fingers through his hair, rubbing his scalp while he shudders.
"Oh, fuck," He murmurs with exhaustion before collapsing next to you.
The two of you lie side by side while catching your breaths, tiny moans and whines escaping your mouth as the aftershocks of your orgasm hit you.
After a few minutes, Bucky turns on his side to face you, smiling wryly. "That was fun," He mumbles drunkenly.
"Yeah," You agree, turning to him and playing with his fingers. "I'm so wet."
"Me, too. You made me jizz in my fucking pants like a teenager," He says bluntly.
"I made you?" You scoff. "You're the one who started humping me, like a bitch in heat."
He snorts, leaning closer and nuzzling his nose against your jaw. "I need to go wash... clean up."
"You have cum in your pants," You reiterate with a laugh. "You're so gross."
"Shut up," Bucky grumbles, sitting up before suddenly slapping your tit. "Nice boobies."
"Asshole!" You hiss, covering them while glaring at him. "Go wash your disgusting dick!"
"I will!" He yells back, standing up. "You're such a slut!"
"You are!" You retort. "I'm telling Sam about this!"
He disappears into the bathroom, but still shouts back to you, "Not if I do first!"
"In fact, I'm telling everyone in New York that the great James Fucky Barnes jizzed in his pants," You threaten him while laughing.
"And I'll tell them... I'll tell them how pretty your tits are," He calls back weakly.
"You're such a softie," You tease him with a grin.
"I wasn't so soft five minutes ago," He utters while the sound of the shower starts.
"Can I join you?" You ask, sitting up.
"No!" He calls out.
"Why not?" You whine.
"I'm warning you, fairy, if you get in this shower with me, I will fuck you," He says gravely.
Biting your lip, you tilt your head. "What's wrong with that?"
He doesn't reply, and instead just slams the bathroom shut, making you scoff.
"Prick!" You yell, before falling back down with a huff. What a prick.
Tumblr media
side blog for update notifications: @kinanabinksupdates
buy me a kofi <3
4K notes · View notes
mrsbarnesblog · 3 months
Text
Tattoo
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Tattoo Artist! Bucky Barnes x Bookshop Owner!Reader
Summary: When Natasha begged you to come with her to get her new tattoo done, you didn't expect that her actual plan would be to set you up with a fine-as-hell tattoo artist.
Word count: 5.8k
Warnings: +18❗️smut, p in v sex, oral sex (r receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, strangers to lovers, Bucky is hot as fuck, shy and socially awkward reader, insecurities.
Author's note: sooo, it took me forever to write, but I finally finished it and I'm kind of proud of this one. Bucky with tattoos and a low bun? yup, I'm totally ready to do whatever he desires! I hope y'all will like it too. feel free to leave comments or fic ideas💘
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“I’m going to be there almost for a whole day. I love those idiots, but I still need my best friend to cheer me up." Natasha threw her hand over your shoulders, trying to convince you to go with her on a tattoo session. It was not her first time, but now she wanted to get a much bigger one on her thigh, and, for some reason, she really wanted you to go with her, using the fact that it was your day off. 
“Nat, you know that I hate going to such places. I’m socially awkward; what am I gonna do there for so long? I don’t even know those people.” You frowned, already feeling a bundle of nerves in your stomach. 
You were what others may call boring, but you rarely went to unknown places or hung out with random people. You would rather stay with a book in your apartment and read for a whole day than get into such situations. Not to mention, that tattoo salon was full of men, and it made the whole situation even worse. 
“But you’re going to be with me. They are the nice guys, I promise. You will sit with us in the room; we can talk, or you can read another book, while Barnes will do my tattoo. I just don’t want to die of boredom there. Please?” She pulled you even closer, and you knew that she wouldn’t let that go. So you had no other choice but to agree. 
Tumblr media
You didn’t know what you were thinking when you decided that wearing a light, flowy dress would be a good idea. Because now, following Nat out of her car to that tattoo studio, it felt too short, too open, and just too much. You tried to calm down, thinking to yourself that there was nothing serious; you were just going to wait in the corner, and other people probably wouldn’t even pay attention or talk to you. Natasha, with her boldness and openness, was always the center, and you were totally fine with that. 
But you were so wrong. 
As soon as you walked inside, four men stopped talking, turning around to face you and Nat, and you honestly thought that you were going to faint. 
“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind that I brought my friend. So I do not have to listen to your boring asses complain all day." She teased, dragging you by the hand like a mom who tried to encourage her kid to talk. You were round-eyed, and a wave of heat washed over your body when you were face-to-face with a blonde and big guy. But before either of you could say or do something, a person who you didn’t recognise at first stepped in, pulling you into a hug. 
“Isn’t it my favorite book girly ever? How are you doin’?” Sam’s enthusiasm and energy were always so refreshing to you, so when he quickly pulled away, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pushing you further into a studio, you tried to stay calm and not freak out.
"I didn't know that you were working here. How’s Sarah?” You asked, looking up at him. 
“Yup, for a few years. She is doing great, but AJ and Cass are a pain in the ass. They are growing too quickly, you know." He chuckled. “Now, say hi to those idiots.” He moved his head toward the men who were silently observing your interaction. “Tony, Steve, and Bucky.” Sam named them in order. Tony just nodded to you, Steve smiled with the friendliest smile you had ever seen, and Bucky... 
Your head became empty as soon as your eyes landed on him for the first time. He was leaning on the wall at the back of the room, so you didn’t pay much attention to him at first. He was hot. Unbelievebly hot. He was tall and muscular, with a low bun at the back of his head and tattoos covering the visible parts of his arms and neck. And as your gaze moved to his face, you almost choked on a fucking breath. 
Piercing blue eyes looked right directly at you, and the slightest smirk curled the corner of his lips. You didn’t know whether you felt too cold, too hot, or if you just wanted to vanish right on the spot. Your face heated, your eyes started running around the room, and your heart was beating a few times faster. It was overwhelming, and you thought that you would have to go out of there, but right on time, Natasha stepped in front of you, dragging all attention to herself. 
Bucky had to admit that once in his life, Sam was right. Sam tried to convince Bucky to go to that book shop for a few months, saying that he had to meet with the girl who worked there, but he was way too stubborn. 
He would have done it a long time ago if he knew you would look like the most precious, cute, and sweet person. Bucky could not take his gaze away from you as soon as Natasha dragged you inside, absorbing everything—from the way you looked so soft and pretty in that dress to the way you blushed and were nervous about the whole thing. 
He saw your reaction—how you became even more flushed after your intense stares at each other. Bucky was never the type of guy who liked to tease you, but Goddammit, he wanted to see how you would react if he stepped closer and talked to you. He also wasn’t creepy towards women, but the only thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to taste you. The desire to shove your back into the wall, lift up the skirt of your dress, and fall to his knees was shocking; he had never felt such an instant pull toward another person. 
“Barnes, are we going to start, or you’re planning on standing and staring for a whole day?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest as if she were annoyed, but you thought that you heard something weird in her voice, as if she held back a smile. 
And then she quickly looked back at Sam and nodded with a smirk. 
You just followed Nat and Bucky to his own part of the studio. Too lost in your head because of your friend’s weird behavior, you sat down on the sofa in the corner, and the next thing you noticed was the tall figure leaning above you. You probably got carried away to much because now there was a cup of tea standing in front of you on the table.
You looked up, only to meet those pretty blue eyes again. Bucky looked down at you with the same smirk on his lips, and you could barely form a normal thought in your head. 
“Hope you don’t mind a hot tea, princess?” Yup, you were dead. Of course, he had to have the sexiest voice you have ever heard in your life. It was not enough for him to be charming or look like a fucking sin—he also had to sound hot. 
“Thank you.” You almost whispered. 
Bucky gave you another mysterious smile before going back to his place, where Nat was already without her pants and ready to start.
You and Nat were talking for the next few hours—well, she was mostly talking about a girl named Maria that she met not so long ago, and you were nodding, listening, and sipping your tea. That way, you almost forgot about Bucky sitting in the room with you because he was too focused on his job and didn’t even look away from the tattoo. 
To be honest, you accidentally looked at him one or two times because it was hard not to notice a few curls slipping out of his bun, or the way his tattooed and veiny arms seemed so sexy, or that perfect face profile... Fuck. But everything was good until Nat suddenly asked him to stop for a few minutes. 
“I really need to pee, Barnes.” She quickly jumped out of her place, winking at you as she walked away. 
“Natasha…” You hissed at her when she left you and Bucky alone in the room, your insides already shivering with nerves. She was fucking doing it on purpose. You were sure that everything here was her plan to set you up with Bucky because she had never left you anywhere alone, knowing your nervousness. 
“Are you afraid to stay with me alone?” Bucky chuckled, stretching his neck from an uncomfortable position. Your cheeks heated, and you unconsciously started scratching the surface of your phone case. He was charming. He obviously knew that, judging by the way he acted to tease you. When his question was left without an answer, he just shook his head, smiling to himself. “I didn’t know that Nat was dating girls.”
Bucky was desperately trying to make you talk. He saw how you looked at your friend when she left you alone with him, and knowing Nat, she would not have done it if you were truly afraid of him. So he was hoping that you were just too shy to talk to him and that he could make something out of it.
“Mhm. What, you hoped to have a chance with her?” You finally looked up, and you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice. Of course, Bucky was just trying to hit on your friend. Everyone tried. And you knew that she was so pretty and an amazing person, really, but you just wanted to experience it yourself at least once.
“With Nat?” Bucky almost laughed, genuinely taken aback by your response. “Nah, she’s cool, but not my type.”
“And who is your type?” You asked before you could even think about it. 
"You know, those cute and shy girls who can barely talk to anyone and easily blush or get nervous." You froze in your place, and you swore that the blood in your veins had done the same. Your eyes widened in shock, looking at the proudly smirking Bucky. Did he really mean that, or was it just a stupid joke? 
Natasha came into the room, curiously looking between you two, but you just stayed silent and looked away again, staying even quieter until the end of the session. 
Tumblr media
“Why did you do that?” You frowned, looking away from Nat and crossing your arms over your chest. As soon as she was done, you almost ran out of that place, the mixture of weird feelings bubbling inside of you, and you were too frustrated to even talk to someone there. 
“Did what?” Your head snapped back at her innocent, unbothered voice. She rolled her eyes, not looking away from the road. “I did that because I love you.” 
“And I love you too, but I hate that you and Sam put me in this position!”
“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. Don’t be mad at what I’m about to say, but I know that you feel lonely and that you want to have someone or to date someone. I understand your anxiety; I really do, but I wanted to help you.” Her voice sounded so genuine, and even if you were mad, you knew that Nat had always tried to do what was best for you. “Bucky is a good guy. He’s attractive, he’s kind, he’s funny, and he's definitely not a player. I just wanted you to meet him, and from what I saw, there was a sparkle between you.”
You didn’t say anything to that, because she was totally right. Even if you had never said that out loud, you wanted someone to like you. Was it that much to ask? It was just hard to believe that someone as attractive as Bucky, who could easily get a good handful of women whenever he wanted to, had actually flirted with you. 
Tumblr media
The next day, when you finally returned to your favorite place in the world, it was crazy. For some reason, too many people came to the bookshop, and almost everyone needed your advice or help. You were running around the shelves, putting the books in their places, receiving the payment, and then welcoming new customers. So when, at 9 p.m., you put the sign ‘closed’ on the door, you felt the relief that the day was almost over. 
You still had a lot to do, though. Taking the pile of books from the front table, you went to the back room, where you stored some of them. Suddenly, you heard the bell ringing and heavy footsteps on the wooden floor. 
“I’m sorry, but we are already closed. Please come tomor—” You forgot what you wanted to say when you looked out of the room into the main part of the store and saw the last person you ever expected. 
“Hey, princess.” Bucky put his hands into the front pockets, which made him seem even bigger, and smiled at you in a way that made your knees weak. He looked similar to what you saw yesterday—a low bun, black jeans, and a shirt that revealed some of his tattoos. God, his tattoos made you imagine things that were too inappropriate to say out loud. “Sorry that I came so late, but I just got off work, and I really wanted to see the place Sam has been bugging me about for weeks.” He noticed how you were looking at him again, but he decided not to tease you about it. 
“Um, hi.” You dusted off your hands and fixed the bottom part of your dress to make sure that everything was in it’s place. Bucky couldn’t help but follow your hands, staring at the way the hem of your dress moved around your thighs. “Do you need something? Like a book? Or you came just to get rid of Sam?”
“Yeah, maybe a fantasy book or something like that.” 
“I can show you where we have it, but I, um, need to finish the work here, so it would be great if you'd find a book that you like by yourself. Is that okay?” His stare was intense, and you really didn’t know what to do with this. Was he always like that with women? But Nat said that he wasn’t a player, and you trusted her more than yourself.
“Totally.” You nodded, calmed down your nerves as much as you could to not embarrass yourself in front of him, and you showed the way to the shelves at the back of the shop. 
“Take as much time as you need; I’ll go... there.” You pointed behind you to the piles of books, and Bucky chuckled at the way you were nervous around him. That was so fucking cute that he wanted to just scoop you up in his arms and make you blush again and again. 
Almost ten minutes later, you showed up again with a few books in your hands that were from the fantasy section, and as much as you wanted to escape Bucky, you also wanted to finish your job. He just quickly looked at you, too interested in the book in his hands, but didn’t say anything. 
You tried to reach the highest shelf to put the book in it’s place, but it was too far away. Usually you used a small ladder, but it was somewhere else now, and you just tried to do it standing on the tiptoes. 
“Let me do it, princess.” Bucky chuckled, closing his book and putting it down, and reached out to help you.
“No!”
“You won’t reach it. Just give it to me.” He placed his hand on your back, stretching the other one. 
“I can do it myself!” 
You couldn’t. Because the next thing you know, the book slipped out of your hand when you tried to make more distance between you and Bucky, and you also lost control of the ones you held near your chest. Everything fell onto the floor with a loud ‘boom’ and you prayed that nothing got damaged. 
Your head snapped back to say to Bucky that it was his fault, but he was already looking down at you, and you immediately forgot about everything. Only then did you realize that he was so close to you; his hand was holding your waist, and your back was almost pressed against his hard chest. 
“Sorry.” He didn’t know what he was sorry for. That he distracted you and made you drop everything, or for what he did next. After his eyes quickly looked at your plump lips, his right hand fell onto your cheek, and he kissed you.
Your instant thought was to push him away, run, and hide in the storage room, but the firm hand on your face and waist made it impossible to move. Bucky almost devoured your mouth and completely controlled you, and you could barely keep up with the rhythm of the kiss. 
He was good at it. 
No one ever kissed you as if it were the best thing they'd ever tried, but Bucky just couldn’t stop. He spined your body, so you were not in that awkward and uncomfortable position anymore. Now that you were standing chest to chest, your back got pressed into the shelves, and Bucky was towering over you. It felt unknown but so right at the same time. Your experience in this area was really poor, but the adrenalin in your blood made you a little bit more sure of yourself. 
“You’re doing something to me.” He breathed into the kiss, and you just whined without realizing it. He connected your lips again, tightening his hands on your waste and, that way, pulling you even closer. You had no idea where to put your hands, but your body seemed to work on autopilot, so they landed on his chest.
You felt something hard on the lower part of your belly, and the thought that Bucky had become hard solely because of the kiss nearly drove you insane. Hot, handsome, and charming men had never kissed you as if you were their last meal, teasing you with their bulge in the middle of your shop. 
God, he must be big. 
Your heart started beating so fast that you heard it in your ears. Was it the right thing to do? What should you do or say after that? Did he think that you kissed badly? 
“I can almost hear the thoughts in your head. Why are you worrying? You don’t like or want it? Just say, and I’ll step away.” You licked your lips, as if you tried to taste him again. You felt how your face heated again from being so close to Bucky. He didn’t sound or look as if he were judging you, and it made you feel safe enough to tell what was going on in your head.
“I just—I'm not really familiar with it. I barely know you, and you just kissed me, and I am at a loss for what to do." You said, nervously playing with the material of his shirt. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, making you look at him. It surprised you that he didn’t try to do anything to push you, like many other men who just think with their dicks. Your stomach tightened from the way he stared at your face.
"I understand and that’s okay if you feel a little bit scared. I’m not pushing you and you can say no to me. I really came here just to talk to you, but I cannot think of anything else but you. Can I kiss you, princess?” Your eyes closed when you felt his breath on your lips again. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it too, so you just slightly nodded to his question. 
Bucky kissed you deeper and slower, allowing you to follow him. He stroked your cheek gently as his tongue slid into your mouth, causing you to moan. You swore that he smiled at your reaction, and it encouraged him to push his other hand from your waist to your thighs. 
Your skin started tingling when you felt it going under your skirt. Tattooed fingers traced the soft lines on your legs until they reached your underwear. Only then did you realise that you were getting wet. This whole time, it was not just nerves; oh no, your body actually just craved that man in front of you and now you could do nothing to hide it. In your last attempt, you tried to push your legs together, but you made it worse when Bucky’s hand slipped higher and touched the wet spot. 
“Holy fuck.” He growled, ending the kiss and looking down, where his hand stayed under your clothes. “You are not so innocent, huh?” 
“Shy and innocent are two completely different things, Bucky.” 
“Right.” Biting his lip, he looked up at you again with darkened eyes, and you felt his hand pressing onto your dressed core more firmly. “Can I taste you?"
Your eyes widen in shock. You were not a complete virgin, but unfortunately, you had never experienced that before. “My sexual life is actually really, and I mean really, meager, and no one ever asked me to do it.” You whispered, almost in embarrassment. 
“So you’re telling me that no one asked to eat you out, princess? Well, that’s a shame. I bet your pussy is as sweet as you are.” He ran his nose across your cheek, enjoying your delicate skin and the light scent of your perfume, until he reached the sensitive part of your neck. “Your scent drives me crazy... You’re so sensitive, God. When was the last time you were with someone?” You tried to act normal and not shiever, but when Bucky’s finger was running up and down the soft cotton of your panties, it was nearly impossible to do. 
“I don’t know. I did it just a few times, and I don’t date. Guys are not really interested in me.”
“Loosers.” 
“Bucky.” You moaned his name when he suddenly fell to his knees. That view was so surreal for you. He seemed desperate to touch and taste you, to please you, even though he was painfully hard in his jeans. But he did not go too far because he was waiting for your response. “What if someone walks in?”
“There is a sign on the door. Are there many people who go to bookshops at that time?” Bucky took your left leg, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your eyes followed every move with curiosity and a hint of worry when he turned his head to softly kiss your thigh.
“Okay.”
Bucky took your leg off his shoulder but only to slide his hands under your dress and take off your underwear. He did not break eye contact when he helped you step out of it and then put them in his jeans pocket. With a quick motion, your leg returned to it’s place near his face and you blushed, realising how close he was.
With his right hand on your thigh and the left one slowly creeping up your other leg, Bucky started leaving kisses higher and higher, until he finally reached your pulled-up dress. When his head suddenly lowered and you felt the first touch of his tongue, you almost died. 
Up until that moment, you didn’t even realize how tense your body was, but that first lick sent a hot wave over you and you could not hold back a whine. You just became a fucking puddle under his touch. 
Bucky was not much better than you. He gripped your thigh harder, as if he wanted you to be even closer, and moaned when your taste blossomed on his tongue. He knew that he was addicted now and that he could spend hours in between your legs. His tongue slipped across your folds, collecting your juice, and then circled around your sensitive clit. 
“Fuck, princess. You��re s’ sweet.” 
"Bucky—oh my god, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but that tight knot in your stomach was becoming almost too painful, and you felt tears forming in your eyes. As if Bucky had already understood your body better, he put two fingers of his left hand at your entrance, slightly pushing in just the tips. 
You moaned again, your hand moving on it’s own and grabbing Bucky’s hair in despair. He slowly slipped inside, letting you adjust while still not stopping the movements of his tongue. You felt so fucking tight and wet around his fingers and his cock painfully twiched in his jeans. He started pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, and if you weren’t so far up in your head, you would’ve been embarrassed by the noises coming out of you. 
The combination of his thick digits and tongue pushed you into your first orgasm. Your back arched, and your legs unconsciously tried to close, but Bucky did not let that happen, gripping your thigh tighter and holding you in place. 
“Cum for me, pretty girl. C'mon, don’t be shy.” He encouraged you and that was everything you needed. 
You had no idea what happened next because your body felt like it was floating and your head fell back with a moan of Bucky's name. He let you go through it, slowing his pace and pulling out his fingers. As much as he didn’t want to stop, he knew that it was enough for you for the first time. 
You felt how Bucky jently lowered your leg and then, holding you by the waist, stood up and shamelessly licked his shiny lips. “I can’t believe you actually just did that. No one has ever given me an orgasm.” 
“Princess… You’re unbelievable.” He got closer to you, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. You could feel hardness in his pants, and while Bucky did not try to push it any further, the desire within you made you bold. 
“Do you have a condom?” Bucky immediately pulled away from you, his eyes darker than before and his hands tightening on your waist. You bit your lip and lowered your gaze, as if you said something wrong. 
"No, no, no, you can’t get shy after you just asked me this. Eyes on me, princess. Do you really want it?" 
“I do.” 
Bucky connected your lips, distracting you from unnecessary thoughts, and you felt two hands on the back sides of your thighs. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, as if your body knew what to do better than you. You both moaned when his bulge met with your dripping core; Bucky’s grip tightened and he slightly moved your hips. 
Firmly holding you in his hands, Bucky stepped away from the shelves and went to the table that was standing nearby. He blindly moved aside some books there, dropping a few on the floor and receiving a groan from you. He put you on the flat surface, not moving away from between your legs. 
Your hands finally felt more confident to study his tattooed skin. You never realised that you were into people with tattoos, but now, looking at the variety of things covering his tanned skin, your belly tightened with anticipation. Your hands slowly reached his neck, slightly pulling him closer. 
“You didn’t answer my question. Do you have it?” Instead of replying to you, Bucky, not breaking eye contact, reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, taking the shiny square that was sticking out of there. 
Your eyes shot up at him, meeting his half-hooded and full-of-lust eyes. Bucky looked right back at you, mesmerized by your beauty—by the way your cheeks heated and your lips were slightly swollen. He quickly unbuttoned his pants, sliding them with boxers down his legs, until his hard as rock cock was free with pre-cum leaking from the tip. 
“If you’re going to look at me like that, then I might cum like a teenager before everything starts, princess.” Bucky growled, squeezing your thigh in his hand. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, then looked at his face again. You didn’t want to stare at his cock, but holy shit, it was better and bigger than everything you’ve seen before. You wondered what it would taste like, and that one thought made you clench around nothing. 
With a quick, smooth motion, Bucky opened the package with his teeth, sliding the condom down his shaft. His hand moved you closer to the edge of the table, so now your faces were just a few centimeters away and you could feel his cock through the fabric of your dress. 
“Be a good girl and hold it here for me.” Bucky folded your dress on your stomach, guiding your hand there, so he had better access to your sweet pussy. He had to see how he was disappearing inside of you with his own fucking eyes.  
“Bucky…” You whined because of the way you were exposed to him, but you still did what he said. With wide eyes, you looked at how he moved even closer to you, slightly brushing your folds with the tip. Your free arm gripped his tattooed forearm, digging in your nails. 
“So wet for me, so pretty... God, princess. I won’t be able to keep my hands from you. Say you want this. I need to hear it.” He palmed the side of your face, making you look up at him, and held himself at your entrance at the same time. 
“I want it. Please.” You whispered, your eyes running back and forth between his pretty blues. 
When he finally started slowly pushing into you, your mouth opened with a silent moan, and your eyes almost crossed with the way your whole body got covered with goosebumps. Bucky could not tear his eyes away from the place you two were connected. He felt every movement of your body and felt how your pussy almost sucked him inside. 
He knew that you would feel good, but he did not realize that it would feel like the most correct thing in his life. 
Bucky finally bottomed into you, stretching you the way you had never been before. You both thought that you could cum in that exact second, but you also both wanted to extend this moment as much as you could. 
“Princess…” That sounded so desperate when Bucky finally started moving his hips, dragging his cock out and then pushing right back in. "Fuck, I need to kiss you. You feel like a fuckin’ heaven, holy shit.” Not stopping sliding into you at a steady pace, he dragged your face closer, as if his life were depending on it. Bucky greedily bit and sucked your bottom lip, swallowing every moan and whine you let out.
“Mh— I can’t— oh, Bucky!” You cried, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.
He pulled you back away from his body, holding you that way so he had a better view of your face and body. He felt the way your thighs tried to squeeze together, your face started to heat and you tried to look away. 
“Don’t you dare become shy when I’m balls deep in you, princess.” He slowed his movements and teased you until you almost begged him to fuck you properly again. “You need to cum, huh? Show me those pretty eyes; don’t hide from me, c’mon.” You looked up, almost whining from the way he was looking at you. Pupils blown out, eyes slightly narrowed, and running around your face with interest and desire. “Do you need something? Speak up, sweet girl.”
“I want to cum. Let me, please.” 
“Good fucking girl.” 
Bucky started fucking you with a new forse; the table under you was squeaking with every move, making the whole scene even dirtier. You could not care about embarrassment anymore, moaning Bucky name and begging him to be harder. 
You both felt how close you were. 
Your hand, with your skirt in it, tightened around the fabric, your spread legs were trembling and you started uncontrollably squeezing Bucky’s cock inside of you. His dirty words made your vision foggy with satisfaction and the way he didn’t stop hitting your sweet spot was enough for you to go crazy with an overwhelming orgasm.
“Bucky! Bucky, oh my— fuuuck!” You cried in pleasure, feeling a few more thrusts of his throbbing cock, until he finally slowed down and emptied himself in the condom. Your body fell forward right into Bucky’s chest, too tired to even sit straight. He wrapped his hands around you, slowly stroking your back and kissing your temple. 
“You are fucking amazing, princess.” He mumbled into your hair and you just hummed in response. After a few quiet minutes, when your head started to clear up and the whole weight of this situation fell on you, you finally pulled away, hiding your eyes from him again. “What? What’s wrong?” 
“I just… I don’t know what we are supposed to do in this situation; I mean— it was just sex for you, right?” You asked, focusing on one particular tattoo on Bucky’s neck to not show how nervous you were.
Bucky didn’t answer for a few seconds, but you felt the weight of his eyes on you. Then he lifted your face with one of his hands and softly smiled at you. “If it meant nothing for me, I would’ve already been on my way home. I want you. I wanted you from the moment I saw you and I won’t be satisfied until you let me take you out. Are you free tomorrow evening, sweetheart?” He cooed, playfully tilting his head to the side. That man and his charm would be the death of you…
“Um, okay. I’m free, if you’re not kidding.”
“Not in the slightest. Now get dressed. I'm taking you home.” He pecked your lips before slowly pulling out of you and getting rid of the condom. You slowly jumped from the table, legs trembling from two mind-blowing orgasms, not missing how Bucky’s smirked at you. 
“You don’t have to take me home, Bucky.” You fixed your dress and hair as much as you could without a mirror and then picked up the books from the floor that were forgotten during your makeout session. 
“Well, I didn’t see a car near the shop, so I assume you’re walking home. And it’s dark.” He walked behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “I don’t like this idea. I’m driving you home, princess.” 
“Fine. You won.” You playfully made an annoyed voice to what Bucky just chuckled and held you even closer. 
3K notes · View notes