#he’s my little boyfriend (real) (not lying) (we’re cuddling for warmth in this winter storm rn)

[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

Snowed In ~ Bucky x Reader Oneshot

A/N: Apparently we might get snow in a couple days. It is officially valid for me to post a story about snow. (I’ve been trying to control myself). Hope you enjoy! There will probs be more snowy fluffy cuddles. 

Summary: You and Bucky get stuck at a safe house one night. Could it change everything for the two of you? 

Characters/Pairings: Bucky x reader, Steve (minor) 

Rating: T 

Warnings: Implied smut, mention of sick parent (alzheimers), some general sadness, angst if you squint? 

Word Count:  2337 

“Hey, Stevie. The package has been delivered and we are en route to extraction.”

“About that extraction…”

“What about it?”

“The storm is too bad. None of our pilots can get out to you until it dies down.”

“Great,” Bucky muttered beside you as he tried not to send the car careening off the road.

“So what are we supposed to do?”

“There’s a safe house two miles from your location. I’m sending you the coordinates. Bunk down there for the night and we’ll hopefully be able to get to you tomorrow.”

“Got it. Are you okay? You sound stressed, Stevie.”

“I’m fine.” You knew he was lying. “You two okay?”

“We’re good,” you said quickly.

You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you, but you ignored it.

“Are you sure? If not…” He trailed off with a huff.

“We’re good, Stevie,” you assured him.

“Alright. Then just call in when you get to the safe house.”

“Will do. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart. Take care of each other.”

You plugged the coordinates into the GPS before looking out at the quickly worsening storm. You were glad Bucky was the one driving. You were also glad that you were going to bunk down somewhere for the night. Of course the prospect of staying with the Winter Soldier without any buffer was worrisome.  

It wasn’t that you were afraid of Bucky. You knew he would never hurt you. But you were intimidated by the super soldier. And you didn’t think he liked you very much.

When you had joined the team, Steve had become your S.O and eventually your pseudo big brother. You were practically inseparable now. As such you had spent a lot of time with Bucky in the last year and a half, but he still clammed up around you 90% of the time. However the other 10% he was charming and inquisitive, and that had been plenty for you to develop a crush on him.

As he drove, you surreptitiously watched his profile, cataloguing each clench of his jaw as he struggled to keep the SUV on the road.

“We’re here,” he reported flatly when you pulled up to the small cabin.

“Cozy,” you observed, doing your best to sound cheery.  

He huffed out half a laugh, and you counted it as a point in your favor.

After a too quick shower, you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and shuffled to the kitchen to scrounge up some food for you and Bucky. You had just dumped the ravioli into the strainer when Bucky wandered in, sniffing the air.

“Whatever brand sauce that is, we need to buy it for the tower.”

“It’s the usual brand. I just added a little something extra to it.”

You added another dash of thyme and gave it a stir before offering him a spoonful. His eyes slid shut and he groaned as he tasted it.

“I think you missed your calling, doll.”

You prayed that he couldn’t hear the way your heart quickened at the nickname. It was always reserved for nights when he felt particularly affectionate towards you.

“Is there enough for two?” he asked hopefully.

“Of course. Figured you might be hungry.”

You quickly dished out the food, humming to yourself, feeling oddly at ease with Bucky.

“This safe house is surprisingly well stocked. Do you want red or white?”

He grinned and held up two bottles of wine, when you looked at him in confusion.

“Red please.”

“Coming right up.”

“I’m also pretty sure that this isn’t so much a safe house as it is one of Tony’s vacation houses,” you commented as you set the plates down before sitting cross-legged on the comfy kitchen chair.

“Lucky us.”

“Lucky us,” you echoed, digging into your food.

“Have you ever made your own sauce from scratch?” Bucky asked after he finished his first round of ravioli.

“Yeah, a bunch of times. It’s pretty good.”

“Do you have a secret recipe?”

You shook your head with a smirk. “No recipe. I do it by taste. Every batch is different.”

“What made you get into cooking?”

So he was in an inquisitive mood tonight.

“I was the daughter of a single mom who had to work way too many hours to keep us afloat. Eventually it became my way of giving back to her.”

“She’s clearly an amazing woman to have raised such an amazing daughter.”

You wanted to scoff, brush off the compliment, but his words were casual but sure.

“She’s one of the strongest people I know. I hope to be half the woman she is someday. I remember this one time, I always begged to go to the beach every summer, but she could never take the time off. But one year she finally had a few days off and she packed up the car and we went to the beach. Only it was the middle of February in New England. It was freezing so I couldn’t go in the water. But we still walked along the beach every day at sunrise and sunset. And we ate junk food and watched late night TV. It was great.”

“Steve and I did something like that one time. But we were dumb enough to go in the water. Steve was stuck under blankets for a week.”

You smiled at the fondness in his voice.

“Right after I graduated from college, I had saved up enough to take her on a real vacation. We spent two weeks in Hawaii. I think that was the first time I saw my mom relax,” you smiled to yourself as you remembered.  

“That was really sweet, doll. Are you two still close?”

Your face fell and he knew he had asked the wrong question.

“Sort of. Not really. I mean I still see her all the time, but umm. She has early onset alzheimers so she doesn’t really remember me most days.”

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

You sniffed and focused on the ceiling trying not to outright cry.

“Sometimes there are still good days. But she’s being well-taken care of, so that’s all I can really ask for.”

“I didn’t mean to bring up such a painful topic. As you know I’m pretty rusty on the whole good conversation thing.”

He was floundering, and you shook your head smiling.

“No, I haven’t thought about those trips in forever. It’s nice to remember good times with my mom.”

“Memories certainly are precious.”

“I’ll drink to that.”  

 The conversation turned lighter after that. Several hours later, you tried and failed to fight a yawn. You didn’t want the night to end. This was the longest conversation you had had with Bucky, and you didn’t want whatever magic there was to go away.

“You’re exhausted, doll. We should get some sleep.”

“I’m good.”

“Your eyes are practically closed. Why don’t you take the bed? I’ll take care of the dishes and crash on the couch.”

“I’ll take the couch. I’ve always enjoyed sleeping by a fireplace.”

You helped put the dishes in the sink before wrapping the comforter around you once more and headed for the couch. You paused in the doorway as Bucky whistled while he washed the dishes.

“Hey, Bucky?”

“Yeah, doll?”

You sucked in a deep breath, before rushing through your next words.

“This was nice. We should do it more often.”

He smiled and chuckled a little before answering.

“I’d like that.”

“Good night, Bucky.”

“Good night, doll.”  

 You woke up shivering. You were about to leave your cocoon to stoke the fire when Bucky emerged from bedroom with the duvet from the bed around his shoulders.

“I can hear your teeth chattering in there."

“S-sss-sorrry, B-bb-b-b-ucky.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, y/n. The heat went out.” He tossed a few logs on the fire to build it up. “Alright, move over.”

“W-why?” You asked, but did as he asked.

“Because, clearly the fire isn’t enough to keep you warm. But I can.”

He stretched out along the couch and you hesitantly lay down next to him. But the second your body sensed his heat, you burrowed into him instinctually.

“God, you’re so hot,” you mumbled around a yawn.

“You’re making me blush, doll,” he smirked and spread the duvet over the two of you.

Some part of your brain was mortified.

“I meant your body is hot.”

“Oh really?”

You mentally smacked yourself.

“Just go to sleep, you talking furnace,” you grumbled.

“Whatever you say.”

You would have continued digging yourself a hole with a shovel of embarrassing comments, but his warmth and his fingers absent-mindedly rubbing back and forth over your lower back had you sighing in contentment and before you knew it you were asleep.

 The next time you woke up, Bucky’s lips were resting against yours. Your first thought was how unbelievably soft his lips were. The second was something along the lines of oh god what if he wakes up like this?!

You slowly tried to pull away, but he followed and now his lips were slotted with yours and you could taste the wine from dinner. You tried to turn your head but each time you moved he moved with you, so you gave up. Just then Bucky started to stir and you slammed your eyes shut, hoping he’d think you were still asleep. He stiffened the moment he woke up, and tried to pull away slowly. Instinctively you moved with him, but you couldn’t keep your eyes closed and you locked gazes with him.

You were both still for a moment, lips still interlocked until you threw caution to the wind and sucked on his lower lip. He groaned and pulled you closer. You wove your fingers into his hair. He managed to free you from the blankets you’d been huddled under and rolled so you were lying on top of him.

He trailed kisses down your neck and chest, but he froze when he reached the collar of your shirt or more accurately Steve’s shirt that you had stolen.

“I’m sorry. This is wrong. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not?”

“What would your boyfriend say?”

“I don’t think he’d give a shit since he doesn’t exist,” you laughed moving to kiss him again.

“He’s my best friend. How could you say- wait what?” He asked pulling away.

You pushed against his chest so you could sit up, still straddling him.

“Bucky, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You’re not dating Steve?”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head.

“Steve?! God no. He’s like my brother.”

“Really?” He asked, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Really,” you told him seriously. “I’m not dating anybody.”

He grinned broadly. “In that case.”

Before you could respond his lips were back on yours. You moaned as he slid his hands under your shirt, grazing across your ribs.

 Later, you laid cuddled against Bucky on the floor beside the fireplace, humming as you traced designs across his chest.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, doll?”

You propped your head on your hand so you could look at him.

“Why did you think Stevie and I were dating?”

“You guys are just so close and cuddly.”

“Not any more than anyone else.”

He bobbed his head, conceding the point.

“But you say I love you all the time to him. Only to him,” he added.  “Also you wear his clothes.”

He had a point, but he was still wrong.

“I do love Steve. Like my brother. He didn’t tell you how I got on the team did he?”

“No. I assumed you were recruited because you were a smarty pants.”

“I was. Just out of college. But I was cut from the program within a week, because I couldn’t keep up physically.”

“You’re one of our best fighters.”

You preened slightly at the compliment.

“Now. Because of Steve. But before I couldn’t even run a mile. Steve fought for me, worked with me for months, pushed me when I wanted to quit, and then got Fury to clear me so I could join the team. And when the team questioned him, he stood up for me. He put his faith in me. Some weak computer nerd who probably should have been working a cubicle at this point.”

“That’s so not true, doll.”

“Whether it is or isn’t is beside the point. The thing is, how could I not love Steve after what he’s done for me? But it was never romantic.”

Bucky was silent, stewing it over.

“Do you believe me?”

“Of course I believe you. I’m just, I was so convinced. It’s taking a little bit for my brain to catch up.”

“If you thought I was dating Steve, why didn’t you just ask him?”

“I didn’t want to mess anything up for you guys.”

“How would asking if we’re dating mess anything up?”

“Steve’s a self-sacrificing idiot,” he stated as if it answered everything.

“Agreed, but what does that have to do with anything?”  

“I was worried that if he thought I liked you, he’d try to break things off and get us together. I didn’t want to do that to either of you,” he whispered. “God that sounds so cocky, because it sounds like I assumed you liked me. I didn’t. Seriously. I hoped, but… even if you did I would never take my best friend’s girl. But god did I wish you were mine.”

You didn’t know what else to do but lean over and kiss him.

“In case it wasn’t clear. I really like you. And I’m all yours. If you want me,” you added when he swallowed nervously at your words.

“I want you. All of you.”

He cupped the back of your neck and pulled you in for a bruising kiss. You didn’t pull away until oxygen was an absolute necessity, and Bucky took the opportunity to focus on your neck, tugging down the shirt you had retrieved after your first round.

“Oh, doll.”

“Yeah, Buck?”

“No more wearing Steve’s shirts. Just mine. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Good.”

A/N: So I hope you enjoyed! Not quite as fluffy as my usual fare but it’s been kicking around for a while. So thanks for reading! 

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