#some know and are mutuals and some know vaguely

[midnightquips]

Dangerously Close

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky & Y/N are undeniably attracted to each other. Seemingly the only way these two are getting together is with some extreme meddling.

Themes: mutual pining, teasing teammates, possessive Bucky, dirty talk, praise kink, jealousy, soft aftercare, Thunderbolts chaos, friends-to-lovers-but-stupid about it, pining (a lot)

Author's Note: Hope you all enjoy this chapter and I look forward to hearing all your thoughts!!!

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Chapter 2: A Questionable Plan

Part I

Alexei Shostakov isn’t what most people would call subtle. In fact, subtlety might be the one skill he actively avoids cultivating.

So when he notices you and Bucky continuing your awkward, longing-laden standoff—he doesn’t just sigh about it over morning coffee. He starts scheming. Loudly. Dramatically. With charts.

The final straw, in his mind, comes during a routine mission recap in the Thunderbolts war room.

You’re seated across the table from Bucky, absentmindedly twirling a pen and listening to Ava outline infiltration points.

He catches Bucky not listening. He is watching you like you’re sunlight and he’s been living in a bunker for five years.

When you glance over and catch him—he immediately turns away like a teenager busted by his crush.

After the meetings, Alexei holds Bucky back by the shoulder and says lowly. “You in love with her.”

Bucky doesn’t even look at him. “I’m not.”

Alexei looks at Bucky knowingly, “I not even say who and you know.”

Bucky only glares at him while taking a sip of water.

“You are literally drooling.”

“I’m drinking water.”

“Like man in desert, yes. Thirsty.”

Bucky sighs, pressing two fingers to his temple. “You need a hobby.”

Alexei leans back, stretching his arms across two empty chairs. “My hobby is watching you suffer. Is like sport.”

A week later, fate, or probably chaos, intervenes. It’s really difficult to distinguish when Alexei is involved. He is finally handed the missing piece of his puzzle.

It happens during an awkward elevator ride at the Tower. Thor, who had been visiting to see the recent changes, steps into the elevator next to Alexei.

Alexei, never one to miss an opportunity, points at the shiny bottle Thor is carrying.

He attempts to ask inconspicuously, “That drink?”

Thor grins widely. “Ah yes! The finest liquor in the Nine Realms. Aged in barrels carved from the roots of Yggdrasil.”

Alexei raises a brow. “It make you drunk?”

Thor chuckles. “It makes everyone drunk.”

“Barnes too?”

The wheels start turning. It sparks a glint in Alexei’s eye that Thor doesn’t notice.

Thor claps a hand on his shoulder, boasting. “Absolutely. I once caught him giggling at fireworks after two sips.”

Alexei’s grin is slow and terrifying. “Excellent.”

The plan is simple. Well, “simple” in the way Alexei understands it.

For the people involved it can also mean dramatic, intrusive, and poorly explained.

Alexei calls for Bucky’s help about a vague mission documentation. So vague that it takes 10 minutes for Bucky to resolve. 

“This could have been an email.” he says grumpily

Alexiei ignores the tone and slams the bottle down in front of him

“What is this?” Bucky asks, already suspicious.

The bottle of Asgardian liquor comes with a note that says: For Strength and Celebration –T.

“Liquor. From Thor. For success in assist and bonding.” Alexei smiles widely

“I don’t want to bond.” Bucky is about to stand

“Too late. I already poured a shot.” 

“You didn’t ask me.”

“I am not asking. I am pouring.”

“Alexei—”

Exasperated with his stubbornness, Alexei turns serious. “Do you want to kiss her or not?”

Bucky freezes.

Alexei smiles knowingly. “I knew it.”

You’re curled up on the floor of your quarters, legs propped on the couch, reading a paperback and absently munching on crackers from the box.

It’s late, quiet, your favorite kind of night.

Then someone knocks. You glance at the door inquisitively.

Three knocks. Pause. Another.

You frown, setting the book down. You weren’t expecting anyone—especially not in this hour.

You open the door and blink.

In front of you is Bucky Barnes–standing in the hallway, leaning against the frame like he forgot how his legs work. He’s flushed, hair mussed, and holding a mostly-empty bottle filled with a glowing golden liquid.

His grin is wide, loose and downright dangerous. 

“Hey, doll.”

You stare perplexed. “Are you drunk?”

He looks down at the bottle like it surprised him. “Not technically. I’m Asgardian-level tipsy.”

You blink. “Asgardian means it’s from Thor and… your bottle is glowing.”

He holds it up proudly. “Magic.”

“Oh my god.”

“Missed you,” he says casually lazy, like this is a thing he says to you all the time. “You look really cute right now.”

You cross your arms, leaning on the door. “Are you going to say things like that the whole time?”

He beams. “Probably. Can I come in? The floor is really wobbly right now”

You’re considering calling Bob or John to help Bucky to his room. But the way he’s looking at you. Soft and vulnerable. It makes you pause.

You hesitate. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m charming,” he corrects, giving you a slight pout

You roll your eyes. “Fine. Shoes off.”

“Already ahead of you.” He beams, kicks them off in one go and strolls inside like he owns the place.

Bucky sprawls on your rug like he’s auditioning for a centerfold, one arm behind his head, the bottle perched on his stomach.

“You know I think about you way too much, right?” he says casually, as if announcing the weather.

He stops you on your tracks. “...What?”

He gestures dreamily, like he was talking to the air. “Like, all the time. Today? You were licking butter off your thumb during breakfast and I nearly died.”

Your mouth drops open in an attempt of a response. “Bucky—”

“Wait, no, lemme finish.” He then props himself up on one elbow, looks at you straight, eyes bright, voice low and rough. “Then during drills? You bent over to tie your shoes and I forgot how to spell my own name.”

You stare at him, stunned.

“I don’t even like brownies,” he continues, “but when you were baking last week? I wanted to bend you over the counter and fuck you while they cooled.”

“Jesus Christ.” You touch your temple with your forefingers, trying to take in all the information

“And then when you wore that tank top on laundry day—”

“Okay, stop.” You wave your hands to gesture him from continuing as you finally take a seat back on the couch beside him

“—I had to go do push-ups until I forgot how to speak English.”

You cover your face with your hands. “Bucky. Stop. You’re drunk. You’re not going to remember any of this.”

He sits up, actively insisting. “I will. I always remember the good parts.”

Your hands drop. “This is ridiculous.”

“I’m ridiculous,” He scoots closer until he’s looking up at you, touching your knee. “I’m completely, totally, idiotically obsessed with you.”

Your breath hitches. “You… You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” His voice drops, sultry and sincere. “I think about your thighs every time I walk into the gym. I think about your laugh when I can’t sleep. I think about your hands when I jerk off, and don’t even get me started on that damn apron.”

You go completely still.

“I know I’m drunk,” he says, tipping his head like he’s confessing something forbidden. “But I swear to god, I’d get on my knees right now if you told me to.”

“Bucky.”

“You think I just flirt with everyone,” he whispers, “but believe me when I say, it’s only you.”

The air between you sparks. Your skin tingles. He’s so close you can smell the warmth of the liquor and something underneath—something unmistakably him.

He slowly takes a seat beside you and before you know it, your faces are inches away from each other. 

Bucky’s eyes flick to your lips, then softly licks his. 

“Can I kiss you?” he murmurs, like it’s both a question and a plea.

Your heart stutters. “You might regret it.”

“No,” he says, voice raw. “The only thing I regret is not doing it sooner.”

And then his mouth is on yours.

His mouth crashes into yours like a dam breaking—hot, messy, hungry.

You gasp against him, but he doesn’t hesitate. One of his hands cups your cheek, the other fists in your shirt as he kisses you like he’s been starving for it. Like he’s been waiting for this moment forever.

And maybe you have, too.

Because the second you respond, everything tilts.

His tongue finds yours, slow and demanding. His metal fingers slide under the hem of your shirt, cool against your skin.

“You have no idea,” he mutters between kisses, lips brushing your jaw, “how long I’ve wanted this.”

“Bucky—”

“I think about you when I can’t sleep,” he groans, kissing down your neck. “When I do sleep. Every time I touch myself it’s your voice in my head.”

Your breath hitches.

“I wanna be buried between your thighs,” he whispers hotly. “Wanna hear you moan my name. Wanna taste you until you forget anyone else ever existed.”

You’re practically trembling under him, legs parted instinctively as he presses himself between them. You feel everything—how hard he is, how desperate.

“Say something,” he murmurs, lips dragging along your throat. “Tell me you want me too.”

“I—I do,” you breathe, dizzy. “I do, Bucky.”

That makes him groan like a man breaking.

“I knew it,” he growls, kissing you again, harder this time. “I fucking knew it.”

You tug him closer, wrapping a leg around his waist, and he grinds into you with a choked sound, like he’s barely holding himself together.

“I want to take my time with you,” he rasps against your collarbone. “Wanna hear all the sounds you make when I touch you just right. Want you to ride my fingers first. Want to feel you fall apart all over me.”

Your whole body burns at his words.

You want to say something—beg, plead, pull him down and never let him go.

But then—

He stops.

Not a pause. Not a playful tease. He pulls back.

Panting. Red-faced. Staring down at you like he’s in pain.

Your heart jumps. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t.”

The words hit you like cold water.

“What?”

“I’m drunk,” he says, like it’s obvious. “This isn’t how I want our first time to be.”

You stare at him, blinking. “You—what?”

“I don’t want to forget this. I don’t want you to think I didn’t mean it. I do.” He pushes a hand through his hair, frustrated. “But I don’t want this to be sloppy. I want it to be real.”

It already feels real.

But you don’t say that.

Instead, you sit up slowly, pulling your shirt down, trying to calm your racing pulse.

Bucky stands quickly, like the floor might collapse under him. “We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

You nod, numb.

He hesitates, like he wants to say something else. But he doesn’t. He can’t look at you because he knows he can never leave if he does so he does what he does best. 

He just grabs the bottle, mumbles a goodbye, and slips out the door.

You sit there for a long time after he leaves.

Your lips still feel swollen. Your skin still tingles where he touched you.

And your heart?

Your heart has no idea what the hell just happened.

TAGLIST: @killerwendigo @mrsnikolestan @starstruck-cowgirl @staley83 @wickedfun9 @sebastianstan0813 @yellowjm@geekandproud @Knowledgeableknitter @yvespecially @geek-and-proud @lex-is-up-all-night-to-get-bucky @Biaswreckedbybuckybarnes @jakesimper @danimuhle @marvelloonie

Divider credit: @saradika-graphics

[girly-girlk]

just pretending

drew starkey x reader

summary: you and drew are fake dating to help get paparazzi off his back

you never expected drew starkey to show up at your door with sunglasses, a hoodie pulled low, and a wild favor on his lips.

“i need you to pretend to date me,” he says.

you blink. “like… as a prank?”

“no. as a way to get the internet to shut up.”

turns out, drew had just gone through a very public, very messy breakup with a model-slash-actress. now the tabloids were stalking him at every turn, twisting every interaction into “new relationship rumors.” his pr team suggested a distraction—a safe, controlled fake relationship with someone far from the chaos. someone “normal.” someone he trusted.

and apparently, that was you.

you’d known drew for years, thanks to a mutual friend from college. you’d kept in touch loosely—dms, coffee when he was in town—but nothing romantic. still, there was always something in his smile, some unspoken pull between the two of you. you’d never acted on it. timing was never right.

until now.

“just a couple of appearances. maybe a few staged paparazzi shots. some social media posts,” drew says, already pacing in your living room. “two months tops. you’ll get a cut from the sponsorship deals if they happen. i just need someone i actually like—someone who won’t sell me out.”

you agree—half for him, half because your heart’s already racing.

⸻

at first, it’s all pretend.

holding hands at a coffee shop patio. you laughing too hard at something he whispered during a lakers game. his hand low on your back at a red carpet event, the cameras snapping like fireworks.

you post a picture of your hands intertwined, no faces, with the caption “not hiding anymore 💙.” the internet goes feral.

but behind closed doors, things are different.

you hang out like always—binge old movies, make dumb jokes, eat cereal at midnight. but now, there’s a tension in the air. when he laughs, your eyes linger. when he hugs you for the cameras, you have to remind yourself not to melt.

one night, after a “candid” shot of you two kissing on the beach goes viral, drew turns to you in the car. the sun’s setting behind his face, soft and golden.

“you’re a really good actress,” he says quietly.

your heart sinks. right. acting.

“so are you,” you lie.

but you’re not sure it’s all fake anymore. not when he brings you your favorite snack without asking. not when he looks at you like you’re the only person in the room. not when he stops posting for a day because “you didn’t seem like you were in the mood to deal with the public today.”

and not when he kisses you again—off-camera.

you pull back, breath caught. “there’s no one around.”

“i know.”

⸻

eventually, the contract “expires.” his pr team says it’s fine to fade the story out. quietly part ways.

but the thought of going back to normal hurts more than you expected.

you go to tell him it’s okay—you’ll play along, you’ll post something vague.

but when you walk into his apartment, he’s holding his phone, smiling nervously.

“hey,” he says. “i… told them we’re still dating.”

you stare.

he swallows. “because i’m not faking it anymore.”

your heart feels like it might actually burst.

you smile, walking closer. “good. because i don’t think i ever was.”

[candyheartedchy]

I think I just discovered a repressed fictional crush and I’m not sure how I should feel about it.

[potatobugz]

things i know (vaguely) about the magnus archives;

- gaaayyyy 🪨🪨🪨

- jon and martin are there

- terrible things will happen to them

- there is at least.. one creature...

- uhhh

- heart mind and. the other one? is that anything

[daintyspeedwalk]

wait waitwaitwait . are people actually mad at doechii for using the “somebody I used to know” beat in Anxiety??

Mayhaps I am too modern & contemporary art pilled but I Do Not see the problem. It’s not like she’s claiming it’s hers. like You Recognized It. You were intended to recognize it. that is the point of using such an iconic beat.

I reference modern & contemporary art because this kind of thing is like. Normal. Seriously extremely normal. did you learn nothing from dada you fools. Who are you coming after next, Duchamp? Cindy Sherman?? Barbara Krueger?????

Y’all you can take iconic art and recontextualize it into new art. you can do that. it’s fine. this is old news. like over a hundred years old news. It’s fine. Get over it

[smoozie]

I really think we need to be more respectful to artists and their interpretations of Real Life's canon-ness. Please don't comment or harass ppl who don't include Cleo in their winners lineup, and don't diss people who do. Cleo as a winner is just gonna have to be an agree to disagree issue

[poisoned-sugar11]

Mutual 1: FUCK THESE STUPID CLOWNS I HATE THEM ALL (AFFECTIONATE)

Mutual 2: exploding again 💥

Mutual 3: *pretty nature photo*

Mutual 1: *highly impressive beadwork*

Mutual 2: *literally the most concerning thing you've ever read in your life*

Mutual 4: guy *beautiful painting of blorbo from my songs*

Mutual 3: *bird photo*

Mutual 2: *very funny shitpost*

Mutual 5: these yellowjackets characters are so doomed yuri. Currently losing my mind. THE SYMBOLISM

Mutual 6: WOE, NEW SIDEBLOG BE UPON YE

Mutual 4: *vaguely British Victorian Era type shitpost*

Mutual 1: ME WHEN FRIENDS AGSUWIANDOFOKRKSODFI8FOELE AAAUAGHHH

Mutual 6: hey so I had this idea for a book about *concept that is 100x cooler than any published book*

Mutual 3: *whimsical nature art*

Mutual 7: *absolutely amazing art that one could never hope to match the skill of*

Mutual 5: mizuki and ena should kiss

Mutual 7: VENT TW: why does my art suck ass actually

Mutual 8: anyone else up showtiming their wonderland

Literally everyone single mutual: *reblogging the same post that says "REBLOG TO HUG PREV"*

Mutual 9: me when I'm literally a forest animal trapped in a human body

[vigilskeep]

i’ve never really had a problem with tumblr anon hate. i don’t know if it’s because i pack my arguments with so many apologies and “open to discussion!”s or because i tend to be so talkative and loud and interactive on here that it makes people nervous to say something to my face

[coffinsister]

I can and will develop unhealthy parasocial completely one-sided relationships the likes of which you never seen before

[torchickentacos]

Very rarely I'll (accidentally) find someone who's blocked me on pokemon tumblr, and realistically I know that they probably saw one of my posts too many times and just got sick of seeing it or I simply annoy them or whatever. But part of me really wants to believe that my pokemon anime opinions were just too much for someone. I want to believe that someone saw me say 'The absol scene needed better build-up to justify Drew talking to one of his pokemon like that, it goes against everything we've seen of him imo' or whatever and they just put a hand over their heart, wounded, and clicked the block button while cursing my family for several generations, past and future. I really want to think that I had a lukewarm enough drew opinion that someone blocked me about it

[cacw]

I think online mutual culture is killing some of you

[chasm-connected]

data blatantly input by a minnesotan that doesnt understand different social cues and doesnt understand theyre being really rude to other people because of it.

[abrubosa]

Just payed someone to read my cards and it turns out I was this guy in a previous life

[tragiccomedyenthusiast]

he he he (taps my fingers together)

[lenathesingingcat]

You know what I would love to see more of? Reincarnation AUs where the original piece of media is acknowledged. Like, “we were the characters in [whatever] in a past life” reincarnation AUs.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen this done, and that’s a shame. Depending on what direction you choose to take it in, this has untapped humour potential AND untapped angst potential!

“So you’re telling me that movie - ”

“BOOK! IT WAS A BOOK FIRST!”

“Right… that was our past life?”

“Yes! And I can’t believe I’m in love with someone who watched the film before reading the book!”

“…That’s… not too crazy, I guess… Wait, you’re in love with me?”

OR

“I remember everything and my boyfriend doesn’t, I’m so happy we found each other, but… what if he reads the book? What if he finds out what kind of person I was? How will he still be able to love me if he reads about what I did to him, about how much I hurt him and others, when he did nothing wrong and loved me unconditionally? What if he can’t? I love him so much, I wish I’d realised that in our past life…”

Why isn’t this more of a thing??

[nappingmoon]

I love seeing people’s interactions on tumblr sm. like scrolling through my dash and two mutuals are going tormenting each other with the same fictional character again, or a someone’s talking to an anon that frequents their blog, or I see a reblog tag game where everyone adds their two cents. like. it’s so cute and wonderful i’m so glad people are finding their niches and connecting w friends. fandom is truly an incredible thing <3