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mediocre-daydreams · 2 years

Text

the one where the protein shake plays matchmaker

pairing: bucky barnes x gn! avengers! reader

summary: you and bucky barnes can find any reason to hate each other. new york can find any reason to believe you two are together. when steve asks you to do a co-interview with bucky, the two of you are barraged by dating rumors that you vehemently deny and it breaks bucky’s heart. do you really find the thought of being with bucky so revolting?

w/c: 10k

warnings: angst with a happy ending! (it’s not a fluffy ending, but there’ll be more parts to come with the fluff u guys deserve.) bucky’s an asshole, ur an asshole, but bucky’s also vulnerable and insecure and ur so fucking confused, and sam was joking the whole time but damn it actually happened. not proof read!!!

a/n: this is the longest fic i’ve ever written i literally woke up this morning, sat at the kitchen table, and blacked out for the entire day until this monstrosity of a piece was produced. peace out.

it was all sam’s fault. (but isn’t it always sam’s fault?)

you were nursing a freshly brewed coffee, the top half of your body folded over tony’s white onyx dupont corian marble countertops—which he just had installed two weeks ago and would kill you if he saw how casually you were treating them—when sam called you from his spot on the couch.

“hey, get over here,” he snorted. “you’re gonna wanna see this.”

you made no effort to move. “i’m looking at you right now, sam.” it wasn’t a lie; your spot from the countertop gave you a perfect view of sam’s lounging profile as he pointed the remote at the TV, aggressively pressing the volume button so you couldn’t avoid at least hearing whatever news he wanted you to see.

“...and the former Winter Soldier, otherwise known as Sargent James Barnes, are taking the internet by storm as young fans flood social media with pictures of the two cozying up outside a local café after the Avengers returned from an appearance in Manhattan.” you could hear the smile in the reporter’s voice. “personally, i’ve been a believer since the park bench incident, but many twitter users are claiming this is the ultimate confirmation of their relationship.”

“okay, what the hell?” you abandoned your coffee, stalking over to where sam was sitting smugly. “you’re telling me that james fucking barnes is in a relationship? are we talking about the same barnes? tall, brooding, bitchy barnes?” you roll your eyes as you slouched into the cushions and nuzzled into sam’s shoulder.

“yeah, in a relationship with you, hon.” sam tilted his head, resting it atop yours.

“ha ha, it’s too early for your bad jokes and you already tore me away from my caffeine fix.”

you could feel sam shuffling from above you, his breathy laugh making you suspicious.

“i’m not joking—just look.”

“FINALLY,’ one twitter user says, in all caps. i mean, that much is obvious.” the screen flashes with images of you and bucky, the two of you making eye contact in battle, walking next to each other through times square, you tending to his wounds on the sidewalk, and what you imagine to be the park bench incident that one of the reporters referred to earlier—bucky and you practically nose-to-nose, his cheeks flushed and your eyebrows furrowed.

“what the fuck? what is this?” you throw yourself off sam, the top of your head slamming into his chin in your haste. sam clutches his jaw, groaning dramatically before he flings himself on top of you, one hand coming up to his forehead as he gasps, pretending to faint.

“you’ve killed me! oh, what will bucky say when he finds out the love of his life is a murderer? what will he do when you’re jailed for manslaughter?” sam cages you with his arms, grinning maniacally from his perch a few inches above your face.

“sam, what the fuck? what did i just watch?” before sam can answer, you hear a loud and familiar scoff from the doorway.

“nobody wants to watch you make out in the kitchen, princess. it’s making me lose my appetite.” bucky strides in and your scowl immediately deepens. you wrestle yourself out from underneath sam.

“how many times have i told you to stop with that? we’re not making out, so stop taking your hangriness out on me, gramps.”

“sure, that explains why he’s literally on top of you. god, i see you guys groping each other so often that the image is practically branded into my mind.”

“groping? grope- so you can’t get me out of your mind, is that it? perv.”

bucky doesn’t give you the satisfaction of an answer, but you take it to mean that you’ve won. “right, and now you’ve got nothing to say? good, because i can’t stand your stupid, grating voice criticizing everything i do.” you’re on the verge of getting up and shoving yourself in front of his aggravating face just to prove a point, but sam interrupts your thoughts.

“ah, a lover’s quarrel. what is it, 7:30? this has got to be a record.” sam whips his phone out. “smile for the camera! TMZ is going to eat this up. imagine the headlines! ‘trouble in paradise: avengers star crossed couple bickering after jealous tensions arise.’”

“jealous?” bucky sneers. “what have i got to be jealous of? you two are sickening.” you realize how closely you’re still sitting next to sam.

“you’re just envious because you haven’t gotten any since the 40s.” you scoot away from sam’s side, refusing to give bucky more ammunition. “admit it, you wish women liked you as much as they like me.” it’s a bit of a low blow, and you’re aware. since becoming a public feature amongst the avengers, patching up his reputation has been a slow process. meanwhile, new york adores you. you can’t go anywhere without people asking you for autographs and pictures, but you don’t mind. you’re honored that the city entrusts you with the duty of protecting them, so you figure the least you can do is repay them with these small requests and warm smiles. bucky, on the other hand, mainly receives nervous glances and parents pulling their children closer to their sides. on the off chance some giddy fan requests a picture, bucky glowers until they leave with dejection painted across their faces. it’s no wonder bucky hasn’t been on any dates.

“right, because i’m so jealous of all your tiktik edits. slow motion close-ups of your face and body in different colors? alright doll, i’m sure women eat that up.” he’d never admit it, but he has seen some of your edits, and if he were to be objective, they were quite flattering. but, if he was to be subjective, he’d never personally be attracted to them.

sam coughed, hiding a laugh and bucky’s mispronunciation of the social media app.

“you know what? enjoy your protein shake, or whatever it is that appeases your masculinity. your testosterone is giving me a migraine.” you’re out of the room in a minute, taking your frustration from the room. bucky’s moodiness still loomed.

“the sexual tension is off the charts,” sam teased. bucky tensed, freezing as he measures his protein powder. (you were right, he does drink protein shakes.) “why can’t you guys just fuck already?”

bucky stammered. the tips of his ears were heating up, and he thanked himself for not getting that haircut. his brown locks are shorter than before, but still tousled enough to cover his ears when he’s sporting bedhead. “sexual tensi- sam, are you insane? i’m not gonna fuck your girl.”

sam had the audacity to laugh. to guffaw. bucky turned around, his confusion evident.

“my- my girl?” he’s wheezing, clutching his stomach. bucky didn’t have time for this.

“yes, why-” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “why do you keep talking about your girlfriend like that? i know it’s none of my business, or whatever, but it’s disrespectful. and for your information, i would never feel that way towards her, so you don’t have to worry.”

“my girl. my girl!” sam caught his breath, exaggeratingly fanning himself. “she’s not my girl, bucky. my girl, holy shit. my girl?” sam’s in disbelief, repeating the words as if he’s trying to process the absolute ludicrousy of it all. “that’s… that’s kind of disgusting, honestly. she’s like, my baby sister. do you need to get your prescription updated? they’ve been my sibling since they started here. i’m pretty sure they got me one of those gag gift “best older brother” mugs at some point, it might still be in the cabinet.” he gestured to behind bucky, where the tower’s impressive collection of mugs was hidden behind sliding glass.

bucky dug through the treasure chest of porcelain. sure enough, there was the mug, hidden in the back and collecting dust. ugly comic sans spelled out “i love my big brother,” with a red heart in lieu of the word love.

“i- so you guys aren’t together?”

“god, no! do you know how much younger they are than me? well, actually, not by much. but young enough that i view them as practically a child.”

bucky couldn’t help the boil in his stomach at that. “they’re not a child, sam. they’re an adult, and very capable of pissing me off just like an adult. as much as i hate children, they’re not capable of being such bi-” bucky refrained from using the word ‘bitches,’ knowing of its dehumanizing undertones and historical abuse against non-male people, and had decided to remove it from his vocabulary all together. he had been reading modern books and recently, gotten into feminism. bucky was still an equal opportunity offender, though. he wasn’t sexist—he hated you just as much as he hated sam. he opted for insulting sam. “don’t be an ansshole, sam.”

“why are you so worried, buck? you want them all to yourself, don’tcha?”

“are you kidding me? i can’t stand them! they’re so- argh, they make me want to- god, they’re so mouth it makes me want to gag them.”

“kinky.”

“i swear to god, sam. you’re not going to live to see your precious sibling again because i am going to come and murder you.” he started towards the couch, fists clenched.

“wait! before you bash in my pretty face, i’ve got something to show you.” bucky couldn’t help his curiosity as he took the phone from sam’s hands. “it’s a tiktok edit, the type you were talking about earlier.”

bucky had never realized people made tiktok edits of him. he was secretly flattered. the video had captured his good side, too. “and this is relevant how?” sam didn’t need to answer, because a few seconds later, bucky’s eyes looked like they were bulging out of his head. the video had gotten to the slow motion bit, and you had come on screen. the video showed you grabbing bucky’s hand mid-battle to drag him out of harm’s way, sparkles and hearts fluttering around the two of you. it cut to another slow motion of you two sending a silent message as you made eye contact from across the street, and then the video zoomed in on both of your faces as the music crescendoed. bucky, utilizing his new knowledge of the modern world, tapped on the comments. they were flooded with bullshit messages like “the way they look at each other <33” and “i want what they have” and even “somebody run me over with a bus.” he didn’t understand the last one, but the first two confirmed his fears.

“sam, do people- do people think we’re together?”

sam chortled. “if by people, you mean all of new york, then yes.” bucky’s face turned beet red as he tossed the phone back to his annoying friend as if it were a hot coal.

“oh god, oh my god… out of everyone, it has to be them?”

“don’t look so disgusted, man. we all know you guys have the hots for each other.”

bucky was running his hands through his hair in distress as he paced. just then, wanda appeared, dragging natasha behind her as she chattered on about the new sneakers she was getting pietro as natasha suggested colors. “aw, bucky’s blushing! i saw that video of you guys on the news, it was really cute. congrats on finally getting together!”

natasha smirked, a little more perceptive than the optimistic wanda. “yeah, congrats. i’m guessing the make-up sex was good, then? i heard a lot of noise this morning.”

“we are not together!” bucky growled.

“huh, really? could’ve fooled me. your thoughts are so loud about her, bucky. i don’t mean to read them or anything, but sometimes they’re just so strong that i can’t help it. i thought it was because you really loved her, or something.” wanda smiled, completely oblivious. “it’s kind of romantic, honestly.”

“in love with them?” bucky looked horrified. “please, i can’t even look them in the eye. they make me sick. i have to hold back my puke every time i’m near them.”

wanda, simultaneously preparing an omelette for her and natasha, shrugged. natasha quirked an eyebrow.

“sounds an awful lot like butterflies, buck. just sayin’.” she and wanda were quick to return to cooking as bucky stood here, shaking his head in shock. him? loving you? loudmouthed, arrogant, know-it-all you? you with the savior complex and big heart? big hearts were a weakness. they made you vulnerable.

bucky squished his face together, sighing. “i’m done with this conversation,” he mumbled. he looked down at his protein shake, which had begun to warm up in his hand as he had neglected it in favor of talking about you. he couldn’t help it—you were just so infuriating, how could he not think about you?

it was all steve’s fault. (captain america was not the golden boy everyone made him out to be.)

“have you lost it? bucky and i, doing an interview? first of all, you know that he’s going to provoke me the whole time. we’re gonna be at each others’ throats, and is that really the image you want to project? that the avengers can’t even get along? and second, he’s not exactly the most well liked right now. no offense to you, steve, but not everyone can see bucky the way you do. it’s all so new to everyone, and to him too, and it’s a lot to expect him to represent us. you, more than anyone, should know how antsy he gets around cameras. all the questions are gonna make him uncomfortable, and let’s be realistic, they’re going to be invasive questions too. he’s literally just started therapy, and expecting him to uncover all the details of his past to be broadcasted to the entire nation is kind of fucked up.”

steve looked at you with a look in his eye that you couldn’t quite place, as if he knew something you didn’t. “i know it’s asking a lot of him, and you too, but i think this is really going to help. having him open up a bit is going to show the people that he’s not the winter soldier anymore, but that he’s bucky barnes, a former soldier and a hero. people adore you, and you know that. your presence is going to humanize him. if you guys could just get along for an hour, you could do wonders for his public image. and yes, i know he hates cameras. but part of his distaste is because he knows they’re going to pin him in a bad light, but with you by his side, this could finally be the chance for him to get some positive attention. and if the interview goes really well, i’m hoping that positive press can be more permanent.”

you sigh, running the pros and cons through your head. on one hand, you hated his guts. he hated yours too, and because of that, you didn’t owe him anything. he was a big boy, he could handle his own problems. plus, you didn’t want to play babysitter for him of all people. you knew that you’d both hate it.

but still, this was bucky barnes. he might be indifferent and rude and self-absorbed, but he was still just a man overcoming his trauma. you could understand that—he was a POW thrust nearly 80 years into the future only to be harassed and hated by the public. he deserved a little bit of peace, and if one measly interview could change the way people treated him, maybe it was worth it. it would be selfish, you thought, to let your own hatred for him prevent him from that opportunity for happiness that would finally come from positive public attention.

“fine. i’ll do it.” you steeled your jaw. “but it’s not for him. not whatsoever. i just- i pity him, that’s all. it must suck for everyone to think you’re a dick, even if you kind of are. but this is the only time i’m ever doing anything for him—i mean, with him—so don’t get used to it.”

“thank you,” steve took your hands in his large ones, fingers curling over your defeated wrists. “this means so much to me. this’ll mean so much to him, too.”

you turned on your heel, calling over your shoulder. “send me the information. and let him know not to get the wrong impression—i still hate him.”

steve chuckled, looking down at the ground with amusement.

bucky cursed the world when he heard the news. “with them? are you kidding me? the whole interview is going to be about how kind and selfless and universally adored they are, it’s not going to help at all! plus, we’re going to be at each others’ throats and then it won’t matter what kind of press i’ll get because i’ll be in jail for first degree murder, you punk! please, dear god, please cancel it.”

“i can’t cancel it, buck. it’s scheduled for tomorrow.” bucky groaned, running his hands down his face. “it’s only an hour of screentime, and you’ll probably only be with them for a total of three hours.”

“why are there two extra hours, then?”

“you’ll have to get ready, and then you’ll probably stay and talk with the producers afterwards. it’s only polite. it’s live, so the audience will most likely want to meet you too.”

“steve, as much as i despire dr. raynor, i’m going to tell her about how insufferable you are. maybe she can issue me a medical exemption, because there’s no way this could be good for my mental health.”

“sorry, bud. i actually talked to dr. raynor about this, and she thinks it’d be good for you to make a public appearance and get people to like you more. something about a weight off your shoulders and team cooperation or whatnot. plus, you know dr. raynor would probably end up scheduling an extra session with you if you bailed, so the interview is probably the lesser of two evils.”

“fine. you know what? fine. but if the devil reincarnated doesn’t come back unscathed, don’t blame me.” bucky hung up with an aggressive tap on his screen, muttering a string of profanities under his breath.

it was wanda’s fault. she insisted on styling you, putting you in this nice button down and helping you pick out a pair of cool patterned pants. you refused the loose tie, even though wanda said it made you look hot. “i don’t want to look hot, wanda. i just want to get this over with.” you whined.

“babe, looking hot will make it more enjoyable. just imagine how many memes they’re going to get out of this; don’t you want to look your best?” wanda giggled, admiring your face in the mirror as makeup artists powdered your nose. bucky sat in the chair next to you, absolutely silent, his face expressionless as stylists attacked him with hairspray to keep that slightly windblown look in place. you had to admit, he was pretty with his hair all natural, or at least, styled with the intention of making it look so. this was all objective observation, though.

one of bucky’s stylists called your name gently. “what do you think?”

“it’s lovely, you’ve done such a wonderful job,” you smiled, genuinely appreciative for their attentive care and hard work.

“thank you! but i can’t take much credit. your boyfriend is a natural beauty,” the stylist commented as he dabbed a bit of foundation on bucky’s cheeks. bucky choked a bit. “hold still!” the stylist chided.

your stylist laughed at his reaction. “and such a sweetheart too! he’s a real good one, held the door for me and everything. you’re a real delight to work with,” she looked towards bucky, who was bewildered. “don’t tell anyone i said this, but you’re a welcome change from the snobbish interviewees we usually get. please, feel free to get interviewed more often.” she winked, applying a sheen of tint to your lips, preventing your from interjecting.

wanda’s eyes twinkled. “they’re so cute, aren’t they?” she chirped. “have you seen that picture of them on the bench?” she held her hand up to her heart. “so precious!”

your lips were finally free. “we’re not toge-”

just your luck; you were interrupted. “five minutes to showtime!” a voice called from out of view.

“thank you, five!” wanda and the stylists called. your stylist fiddled with your hair before giving you a nod of satisfaction and shooing you and bucky out. you two stood by the small hallway by the stage entrance. his body was burly enough to take up more than half the space, and you were forced so close to each other that you could feel his breath on your face. you immediately recognized the nerves—you had worn that same expression before your first interview, and you had wrung your hands in the same way, and you had trembled under clint’s reassuring gaze before he had taken your hand and squeezed it in comfort.

you wanted bucky’s interview to go well. after all, you knew what it was like to be in his shoes. cautiously, watching yourself as you slowly extended your fingers and brushed them against his. he shivered, taking a sharp inhale of air and holding his breath. his hand was too big for you to nestle your fingers between him comfortably, so instead, you nestled your palm between his. fingers wrapping around the back of his hand and tapping rhythmically, your eyes flickered up to meet his once again. his blue eyes, which had previously been stormy and dark, had lightened somewhat as they bored into yours. your heart was pounding. when was the last time you had been so nervous to be on TV? you had become somewhat of a natural, and it was all second nature. you supposed the stakes were higher this time around. now, you had to keep an eye out for bucky, and you’d be damned if you did a bad job.

bucky’s gaze snapped to the door as your cue was called, and he let go of the breath he was holding as he tightened his grip around your hand wordlessly. you gave him a small smile, eyebrows pinching sympathetically as you read the trepidation in his expressive eyes. “you’re gonna do great. just follow my lead.” he nodded, clenching his jaw in determination as you headed on stage to the cheering of an audience. the loveseat was smaller than usual, and you and bucky’s thighs brushed against each other as you settled in.

“welcome, welcome! here they are, the couple of the hour!” the crowd roared at that. your hand had begun to grow clammy, and you realized you and bucky had yet to let go of each others’ hands. you tore yours away from him quickly, wiping the perspiration on your pants as subtly as you could. you noticed his pang of hurt, quickly replaced by a fake smile.

“couple!” you laughed nervously. “i’m not sure how that rumor got started, but bucky and i are not together.” the host looked genuinely surprised.

“really? well, we respect your privacy 110%. celebrity dating can be complicated nowadays; have you seen megan fox and MGK? now that couple is the opposite of private.” you couldn’t help but laugh, breaking into another fit as the camera zoomed in on bucky’s puzzled face. you watched as he pursed his lips on the big screen behind the audience that allowed to you see how the interview was being broadcasted, which you were grateful for. you knew how notorious media could be about presentation—they could manipulate your actions and take your words out of context to frame the story in whichever way would bring in the most profit.

“so, sergeant barnes,” the host begun.

“bucky is fine.” bucky mumbled. you turned to him and mouthed “it’s okay,” and with a cute scrunch of his nose, he cleared his throat and repeated himself more confidently. “bucky is fine. ‘s what steve calls me; actually, most people i know call me that.”

“bucky, huh? now where do you get bucky from james?” bucky smiled, a true smile, as he recounted the origin of his name.

“well, james was a popular name back in the 40s.” there were a couple laughs from the audience as people remembered how old he really was—he had been adjusting to the modern look well, and with his trendy look courtesy of his stylist and timeless handsomeness, he looked as if he could be a celebrity of this time. “so steve got tired of all the mix-ups. don’t tell anyone this,” he mock whispered, holding his hand up to his mouth as he leaned over you to pretend to secretly speak the host. in the process, he had rested his hand on your thigh, gripping the softness of your skin for balance. “my middle name is buchanan. kind of embarrassing, right?”

he leaned back, removing his hand from your thigh without second thought. you were left a bit dazed, but as you blinked a few times to come to your senses, you retaliated by ruffling his hair and ruining his stylist’s hard work. “c’mon, winnie picked that one out for you. show some respect.”

he laughed, bringing his hand up to meet your own, patting it good-naturedly before removing it from the top of his head. “alright, alright. so steve took buchanan and turned it into bucky, and it’s stuck ever since. it’s a lot cooler than james barnes, and coming from the 40s, i think i need all the cool i can get.” the host chuckled, shaking his finger at bucky.

“you, my friend, are plenty cool. not sure how much you’re active on social media, bucky, but you’ve got quite the online presence.” the host pointed at you. “and you’re quite prominent on instagram, so i’m sure you’ve seen these.”

the host took out a top hat, with the base up, and you could see the folded slips of paper piled within. “would you do the honor of reading some of these out loud to us?” your face burned as you took the hat, sending the host a fake glare as you shook your head.

“you are so cruel.”

bucky was confused once more. “what is that?”

the host smiled mischievously. “that, my friend, is your online presence.”

you unfolded a slip of paper. “okay, this is a tweet from buckybarnesluver40” and it says,” you cleared your throat for dramatic effect. “all i want for christmas is for bucky barnes to crush me with his thighs,” you choked out as the audience screamed in approval. the camera zoomed in on you and bucky’s identical mortified expressions.

“hilarious! looks like the girlfriend’s not too pleased. another one, please, please!” the host said between laughs.

you reached your hand into the hat once again. “okay, another tweet. this time it’s from supersoldiersfan4life and it says “i would let bucky barnes use his knife on me in bed. i would kill to be-” your mouth dropped open. it was your name. “supersoldiersfan4life wants to be me?” you screeched.

“don’t we all? you two are the cutest. who agrees?” more screams from the crowd. more screams from within your mind. what was going on?

you swallowed hard, mustering up the courage to look over at bucky. he looked like he was receding into himself, his face a bright shade of red. you hoped you didn’t look as obviously flustered.

the host had the good grace to pluck the hat out of your hand, perhaps sensing the discomfort from both of you. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. we’re all dying to know the relationship details, but maybe that’s for another interview. for now, we’d love to know a little bit more about you, bucky. you’re a bit of an enigma.”

you were still reeling as the host asked you how you felt about bucky. “bucky, you’ve just moved into stark tower, haven’t you? can you let us know how he’s settling in? what’s the general vibe around there?”

you hesitate, not sure how to answer. obviously, you couldn’t just tell a live broadcast how much you hated the man, but you were a notoriously horrible liar. luckily, people got a kick out of your bluntness. but now wasn’t the time for that, not when you were here to try and improve bucky’s reputation. “uh, he’s a great guy, you know? i… he made a great first impression.” you didn’t need to look at the screen or bucky to know that his face was twisted into one of great surprise.

it was true, though. when you first met him, you had thought that he’d be an immediate friend. you admired how willing he was to adjust to the social norms of the 21st century, and how respectful he had been when you showed him around the tower and let him peek into your bedroom. you liked how he made eye contact with you and treated you like an equal rather than assuming you were inexperienced and incapable simply because of your age. and though you hated to admit it, you had fallen for his charms and silly jokes for the first few days you knew him—the first few days of friendliness before he decided he couldn’t stand you and before you two started an intense mutual hatred.

“you know, he’s reading all these books about cultural literacy and societal reform, which i really admire. lot of the titles came from my recommendation list, which i gave him within the first few days that we met. i have to say, it really strokes my ego every time i catch him reading the feminist literature i recommended.” the host looked surprised, but delighted. “yeah, it’s wonderful, isn’t it? he’s gone through so much, and yet he’s still so open-minded and willing to adjust to this century, which i imagine must be hard. he really is incredible.” the fondness is evident as you talk about him. you hadn’t even realized, but at some point, your body had turned away from the host and audience and begun looking at him, eyes soft as you spoke directly to the man you despised.

bucky’s eyebrows were furrowed, as if he couldn’t comprehend such kind words being meant for him, much less in front of a live audience, much less coming from you. “no, they’re too kind. they’re lovely but apparently a complete liar, because i am not what they’re making me out to be. trust me, i’m a menace to live with. i make protein shakes at 7:30 in the morning and tony’s blender is loud. you’d think for a billionaire, he’d be able to find some sort of silent one, but the man insists on the industrial-strength model. apparently, it’s the only thing that can properly mix his milkshakes.” the host laughs, as does the audience, and a screen rolls down from behind the two of you.

“we’ve actually got a video of that blender for you all, sent in by none other than the falcon, sam wilson, himself! let’s take a look.”

the video starts and the two of you share a knowing look. your eyebrows are raised and bucky’s eyes are comically wide.

“james buchanan barnes, if you don’t turn off that blender right now, i will shove your hand in there and you can find out just how much protein is in human flesh.” your frustrated voice sounded from offscreen, and as bucky stopped blending and turned around, you came into frame. you donned a pair of falcon pajama bottoms, with redwing patterned all over the navy blue fabric. they were a gift from sam last christmas, and had quickly become a favorite.

“yeah, and what are you gonna do about it, princess?” he crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one foot as you faced him, chest to chest. the camera shook as sam’s muffled laughter layered over your argument.

“motherfucker- i told you not to call me that!”

“you’ve got quite the mouth, haven’t you, love? someone ‘outa shut you up. and look, i’m right here!” he gestured to his body, smirking.

“don’t flatter yourself. i’d rather drink your nasty protein shake before kissing you.”

“now, who said anything about kissing?”

the camera trembled violently and sam’s laughter cut off abruptly as the video ended. you were hiding your face in your hands as bucky looked in the opposite direction of you, body facing the audience and head lowered.

“oh god, you are evil!” you teased the host, trying to salvage your dignity with feigned nonchalance. “we should’ve never agreed to come here.”

bucky twisted around, shaking his fist jokingly as he attempted to salvage just the same. “you’re killing me, man. i’d rather talk about HYDRA than relive these moments.”

the host leaned forward, elbows resting on the wood as the audience’s laughter slowly faded.

“yes, if you’re comfortable discussing your experiences as the winter soldier, we’d love to learn more. it seems like there’s a lot of misinformation and contradicting stories floating around, yes? do you have anything to say about all the hate?”

bucky sighed, scratching the back of his neck before getting comfortable and slinging his arm around the couch, arm brushing your back. “it’s still hard to talk about, especially when people already have their own perceptions of me and the winter soldier. but i want to make it clear, the winter soldier is a completely different person than bucky barnes. we might have shared the same body, but i had no control when the winter soldier was activated. that was all the fault of HYDRA programming and brainwashing. i’m also still learning to forgive myself for my past, but what i’ve been reminding myself is that i’m not a criminal, i’m a survivor of war. i’m still sargent barnes, who fought in WWII and lived through HYDRA kidnapping and experimentation. i guess, in some way, i’m a- a victim. and it’s hard to say that, because there’s a lot of vulnerability in admitting that you were completely powerless in a situation, but i really believe that’s the truth. and i’m hoping other people can see that as the truth as well.”

the crowd was silent, with nothing more than murmurs reaching your ears. the host was solemn. “thank you, bucky. and if it’s any consolation, everyone here in this room supports your recovery and believes in your innocence. i think the world is beginning to come to its senses as well.” you and bucky both smiled, and there was a lift in your heart that you couldn’t quite place.

“and through it all, he’s been a selfless advocate for children with prosthetics just like him.” you added, thinking back to something steve had mentioned a few weeks ago. “he volunteers at a physical therapy center and talks to the kids there; says he doesn’t need any money or credit for it, and that helping a kid out of the darkness that comes with losing a limb is enough payment for him.” you looked at him, biting your lip as it began to tremble. why were you so emotional? you squeezed your eyes shut, refusing to cry on live television.

“that’s incredible, bucky. you really don’t give yourself enough credit for all the amazing work you’ve been doing.” the host nodded gratefully at bucky, and from the audience was a shout.

“we love you, bucky barnes!” the rest of the audience burst into laughter, as did the host. you gave bucky a watery smile, and he returned it with a gentle look of his own, lips curling ever so slightly.

“on that heartfelt note, we’re unfortunately out of time, so please give it up for our two avengers!” you and bucky waved as you shuffled off stage, desperate to get away from the cameras to comprehend what had just happened.

“what the fuck was that?” you whisper-shouted, looking at bucky with something akin to terror.

“i have no idea,” he hissed, eyes darting around the hall. the two of you walked hastily, hoping to escape the studio before paparazzi and fans could cage you in. “did you tell people we were together?”

“me? why would i do that? i would never date you. that’s totally ridiculous,” you sputtered, face flushing. you would never hold his hand unless you absolutely had to, just like today, when you had to calm him down because you would be completely embarrassed if you had to do an interview with a nervous bucky barnes. it would’ve been completely distracting, having to sit next to him where he did that self-soothing thing with his hands, and then you would have had to grab his hands in front of everyone to stop him, which would’ve been even more embarrassing.

“are you blushing? ew.” he picked up his pace and you jogged to catch up with him. the two of you were nearly at the exit, and you realized that if you let him get away, you’d never be able to finish the conversation. he’d just ignore you until you inevitably got into another fight, as it always went.

“why are you so horrible?” you asserted, a little hurt at the jab which seemingly came out of nowhere. “i just did you a huge favor! do you think i wanted to do this interview with you and get completely humiliated in front of an audience? why do you have to be so crabby all the time?”

“humiliated? is it so humiliating to be seen with me?” he spat, spinning around and stopping in place. he grabbed ahold of your forearms to stop you from crashing into him. his hands, warm and calloused, pressed into your skin and grounded you. “everyone loves you, you’re such a perfect princess, aren’t you? you don’t want to be associated with the winter soldier, is that it? you’re so obsessed with what people think of you that you can’t even bear the thought that, god forbid, you’re dating me? and everyone’s telling me i deserve love and i’m trying, holy shit, i’m trying so hard to believe that. but it always comes back to you—you treat me like shit and now i see it. you still think of me as a murderer, don’t you? the idea of loving me is so outrageous that you couldn’t even look at me during that video. and you’re cruel, you know that? you’re cruel to look me in the eyes as you lie through your teeth, saying all these- these things about me when we both know they couldn’t be further from the truth. you just have to rub it in, don’t you? isn’t it enough that the world hates me? you just have to take it a step further, telling everyone all the things i do in private and then shoving it in my face that all of that kindness is just an act for the cameras!”

you wanted to yell at him for being self-deprecating, but his accusation of your character had pushed you over the edge. “goddamn it, barnes! you think the world revolves around you, don’t you? everything’s about you and the fucking winter soldier, and yeah, i get it, you went through shit! but don’t you dare attack my character when i have done nothing but try and be nice to you! do you remember when you came to the tower for the first time? i tried to be your friend until you decided one day that you were going to hate me for no reason—did you expect me to just shut up and take it? you don’t get to treat me like shit and then get mad at me for retaliating. you know, when steve asked me to do this, my immediate response was no. but even through all of this,” you waved your hand between the two of you, voice hoarse from the yelling. “i still care about you.”

“you care about me?” bucky’s voice was small, and his fingers pressed harder into your forearms. you winced, not being able to stand the super soldier’s strength any longer. his face fell as soon as he saw your expression of pain, dropping your arms immediately and backing up.

“i- look,” he started. you put your hand in the air.

“you know what? save it. yes, bucky, i care about your wellbeing because i respect you. and for a moment, i thought you might’ve respected me too-”

“i do respect you, it’s just-”

“shut up! you treat me like my existence offends you, and if you can still find a reason to hate me after me doing this interview and saying those things about you and trying to help you, then i give up. you think so lowly of me that you can find it in yourself to accuse me of all this and that’s only proof that you have no respect for me. and if that’s the way you want to play it, fine. i don’t care about people who can’t even treat me with decency.” you spat, furious.

you yanked the door open, storming out. your initial plan to avoid the crowd was out the window; fans swarmed you and cameras flashed as you shoved your way through the horde, not caring about your usual reputation for kindness towards your admirers.

bucky was hot on your tail, and you could hear his loud footsteps as he tried to catch up with you. he’d screwed up bad this time, hadn’t he? he’d screwed up your entire relationship and any possibility of neutrality since the beginning—you hadn’t done anything. it had been entirely his fault, and he’d been too childish to make amends. but he’d crossed the line today, and he knew it. he cursed himself, knowing he’d most likely lost you forever. all that bickering the two of you had? that’d be gone too. from now on, you probably wouldn’t even waste a breath on him. he was going to be nothing to you, but that was assuming he ever meant anything to you at all.

“wait, please,” he called. he could’ve easily caught up to you and pinned you against a wall to force you to talk to him, or pinned you against a wall and finally get a good look at your face and maybe even catch another sight of the smiles you had gifted him with back when you were on that loveseat and before he had fucked everything up. but he knew you’d hate that. he knew you’d hate him for taking away your autonomy, for ignoring your decision to leave, and for abusing his super-soldier status to get what he wanted from you.

“please, i’m sorry, just let me talk to you,” he pleaded, voice cracking with desperation. this was it. you were never going to talk to him again. he hated you, he really did, but he was not going to let one stupid comment ruin everything between you two. he was dumb and stubborn and full of himself, and you deserved nothing that he had done to you, but if you were going to ignore him for the rest of your lives—which he prayed would not be the ultimate outcome—he needed you to know that you hadn’t done anything wrong. he owed that to you, at least.

he lost you at the tower. you had gotten to the elevator before he had even stepped foot in the building, and he sprinted up the stairs, hoping to catch you before you left. he practically flung himself into the kitchen, knowing the first person you’d go to would be sam, who had been living on the couch recently, binge-watching toddlers and tiaras.

“woah, bucko, whatcha up to there?”

“i need to see-” he panted, looking around for you frantically.

“ah, i see. finally ready to confess your love for them, aren’t you?”

bucky paused. he stopped and he thought. he really thought this time, his face scrunched in concentration. he looked at sam incredulously.

“i- something like that, actually.” the two men both were both shocked into silence.

“uh, right! okay. they’re, um, in their room. not looking too great.” sam stared at bucky, eyes bugging. “good luck? i mean, i just- okay. Yeah.”

bucky pursed his lips, giving sam a curt nod before gathering the strength to make his way to your room. his heart was in his throat, and he thought there was a good chance that the moment he saw you, it would jump right out of his throat and land on the floor at your feet. now that would be humiliating. and it would also kill him too, but maybe that was a good thing because it meant he wouldn’t be alive to face you again.

his fist hesitated in the air as he stood by your doorway. he was sure you were aware of his presence; he wasn’t exactly a light treader. he knocked, holding his breath.

“fuck off, barnes.”

“i can’t. i have to talk to you.”

“you don’t have the right to demand anything from me. go away.”

“i can’t, i ha- you don’t have to talk to me, but please, can you just listen?”

bucky didn’t hear anything from your side of the room, which he took to be affirmative. “i- i’m sorry. i’ve been an asshole.”

you snorted mirthlessly, and he could imagine the look of repulse on your face. “to put it lightly,” you sneered.

“yeah, i know, and it’s not your fault, you know. you can hate me all you want from now on, and i deserve it. i know i deserve it, and i’m not going to try and change your mind. i just need to tell you that it wasn’t your fault. me hating you, i mean. i mean, i guess i never really hated you, it was just that, i guess-” he sighed, thoughts racing too fast to be able to articulate. “i can’t speak. you drive me insane, and i-”

“gee, thanks, barnes. way to apologize.”

“no! i don’t mean it like that, i just- i’m so sorry, please just, can you let me in? i can’t do this from outside. i know you said i didn’t respect you, but that’s not true. i respect you, and that’s why i want to say this to your face. please.”

bucky heard shuffling from behind the door. it swung open. there you were, looking small and defeated, as he towered over you like some absolute jerk. he shrunk himself, wishing for once that he could be smaller. he observed your face like he had wished he could earlier. your eyes were red-rimmed—had you been crying? you were sniffling softly, rubbing your nose. there was a tissue box on the bed and a few used bundles scattered around the floor. a thin blanket, too, was crumpled and lying on the ground. his heart broke. he stood by the doorframe, not sure what to do. you motioned to the bed, taking a seat on it yourself. the mattress sank as he placed himself a good distance away from you, but still, he turned and forced himself to look into your eyes.

“i didn’t know what to do when i first met you,” he rushed, the words flooding out of his mouth quicker than he could process them. “you were so kind to me. too kind. i didn’t think i deserved it, and i was terrified. you were… perfect. steve, my best friend, he adored you. i saw you two together all the time, and you made him laugh like i used to do. and after all steve did for me, all i could do was recluse myself in my room and give him one-word answers. steve didn’t know what to do, and as much as he tried, i could tell that he was growing tired. he’s got a lot going on, and i don’t blame him for not wanting to babysit all the time. but you were there, and you didn’t even treat me like a pity case. you weren’t some babysitter, you were my friend. my only friend, probably.” he looked at his lap, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand.

“um, i really appreciated that. i don’t think i’d had such a connection to anyone since the 40s. since steve and i met. and-” he covered his face with his hands. “this is so embarrassing, i’m- i’m sorry. i think i liked being around you… too much. and i was, well, me. and you were there, like some angel, making my life better, no, making everyone’s lives better, and i was this weight taking up all your time. and i knew that i’d be lucky if you ever even considered me a friend. i’d be lucky if you could even tolerate all my problems for more than a few weeks, so i never pushed it.”

you opened your mouth to speak, but bucky waved his hands furiously, finally meeting your eyes.

“please, just let me finish. and you can say whatever you want after.” your mouth shut, as did your eyes, as you tried to follow his words. “and you know sam and i have our own thing going on,” bucky laughed bitterly. “he didn’t trust me at first. still tries to get on my nerves now. we respect each other, of course, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s a little shit. sorry.” he shot you what you thought was an apologetic look, maybe because he knew you and sam were close.

“he was cold to me at first, and i couldn’t handle it. it was like being back there, having everyone talk to me in clipped tones as if i wasn’t there. there were some days where he wouldn’t address me at all. i don’t blame him, i guess. tony was suspicious too. you guys gave me so much more than i deserved. but with you, he was like a completely different person. you guys are so close, you know? you guys are like how steve and i used to be, before i came back all fucked up. i don’t think steve and i will ever have what we used to have, or will ever have what you and sam have. and i think- i think i was… jealous. it wasn’t just because i wanted my friendship with steve back, but because i wanted a friendship with you. no, that’s not it at all. i’m sorry, this isn’t easy for me—feelings, i mean—i’m trying, i’m trying for you. i wanted something else, something more with you. because i really liked you, and it took seeing you and sam together to realize that. i had thought you two were together-together; you were so close. and i hated myself for feeling that way towards sam’s girl, because as much as i couldn’t stand him, i couldn’t do that to you. even if i told you, it wouldn’t have changed how you felt. at that point, it was too late. i thought you were already his.

“i couldn’t burden you with my feelings, you know? i couldn’t drag you into my mess. so i tried to ignore it, and it didn’t work, because you’re fucking magnetic. you were all i could think about, and i was such a mess for you, and even then, you didn’t care. i was so incapacitated around you,” he sighed, remembering all the times he had embarrassed himself trying to compose himself around you. “and you never noticed. you never looked my way, did you? it was always about sam. i was like some second thought—not that it was your fault. i barged into your life and took up all your time and you still treated me with such kindness and i started to resent you for it. you couldn’t love me, not when you had sam, but you still had me wrapped around your finger and i’d never felt this way before so i panicked. i panicked and retreated to something familiar, which was hate. i decided i hated you.

“so… well, you know the rest. i was so stupid; you made me so nervous and i blamed it on frustration, and you made me feel and i blamed it on anger. it was torture, having to hate you. but if i wasn’t hating you then i’d have to cope with how much i liked you, and that was worse. i’d take whatever i could have, and if that meant having you yell at me and poke my chest and take my breath away, i’d have to be satisfied. but today, you said all those things about me. you ruined all that progress i had made, trying to hate you. it ruined me, all over again. and did you mean them? did you mean them, because if you didn’t i wouldn’t blame you. but i just have to know.”

“i meant every word,” you breathed, so quietly that you were afraid bucky wouldn’t hear. he did, and instead of relief, a look of devastation washed over his face.

“i can’t- you can’t just say those things. this whole time, i thought you loved sam. and i thought i never even had a chance because it didn’t matter how much i loved you when your heart belonged to somebody else. and sam told me you aren’t together, and it doesn’t even matter anymore, because i still don’t have a chance with you, or even a chance of forgiveness; i don’t deserve it—not after everything i’ve done to you.”

you’re sniveling, wiping your eyes with the edge of your sleeve. bucky’s got tears running down his cheeks, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him since he had first come to the tower and had let you comfort him after he woke up from his nightmares. you hadn’t seen any other emotion from him but hatred since then.

“bucky…” you can’t control your arm as it reaches for his face. your hand cups his chin, stubble rubbing against your palm as he closes his eyes and savors the feeling of your skin on his, knowing it’s more than he deserves. your thumb wipes away the tears as they trickle from his closed eyes; they flutter as your fingers move across his skin, sensitive from the emotion. there’s a tear that’s fallen into the corner of his mouth, and you run your finger over his lip to brush it away. he sighs, and the warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine. you’re buzzing with adrenaline.

“bucky, you are such an idiot!” he flinches, looking guilty, and you lower your voice. “no, i don’t mean it like that,” you soothe. “why didn’t you just- do you really mean what you said? that you thought you were a burden? and back there, at the studio, did you really think that i would be so horrified at the idea of loving you? because you’re wrong, bucky, if you think that’s how i feel—god, you’re so stupid and you’re so wrong.” you sniffle, running your hands through your hair. “if you had just told me…”

“i know, i know, and i’m so sorry.” he’s trembling now, sounding on the verge of tears, and you think he might combust with the violence of which his hands are shaking. you take his hands in yours, stopping him from doing the wringing he always does.

“bucky,” you whisper again. it’s the only thing you can think to say before throwing yourself into him, your arms wrapping around his broad back with your hands unable to touch. you use the opportunity to run them up and down his back, your head finding a home in the crook of his shoulder as you try not to ruin his shirt with your tears. one of his arms wraps around yours tentatively, as if he’s afraid to touch you. you bury yourself deeper into him, one hand clutching the fabric of his shirt as if you’re scared he’s going to run away.

“bucky, please don’t leave me,” you whimper, your lips brushing against his neck. that does it for him, and he finally wraps both arms around you and lifts you up until you’re seated on his lap. his feet touch the floor as he’s seated at the edge of your bed, and your legs wrap around him as you face the opposite direction, clinging onto him koala-like.

“i’m never leaving you. i’m never leaving you,” he mutters, and you’re not sure if he’s saying it to you or to himself. “you’re here. i’m here.”

“all i wanted was for you to stay,” you confessed. “and then you left me, and then you hated me, and how was i supposed to cope? i thought i had done something horrible but i couldn’t figure out what, and still, you were so kind to wanda and so cheerful with clint and even opening up to natasha and it was like those first weeks of us being together never happened.” you pulled yourself away from his shoulder to look him in the eye.

“i- i didn’t know.”

“obviously.”

the two of you were silent for a bit, trying to read each others’ eyes, both of which were puffy and red. bucky’s face was in its usual furrow, the line between his eyebrows deep. you smoothed it out with your finger. “your worry wrinkle,” you laughed wetly. he cracked a smile.

“the one thing i didn’t miss was you calling it that.”

“you missed me? ha. softie.”

the two of you breathed in silence, faces inches from each other. his eyelids fluttered, and it was as if you could feel the ghost of his eyelashes tickling your warm cheeks. you could smell the man you had been missing—smoke, cedar, and spice. you refrained from burying your head in his chest and just drowning in the scent of his cologne.

your eyes fell, looking at your thighs wrapped around his hips and watching his chest rise and fall like a metronome, his breaths finally slowing alongside his heart. “i never hated you, you know. i’m pretty sure i made that clear today. at least, i hope i did.” you sighed, still not meeting his eyes. “i hated the fact that you hated me. i guess i wasn’t used to that. i mean, you’re right. i really do want everyone to like me,” you pursed your lips. “and i know that’s unrealistic. but i liked you a lot, bucky, and i thought at first that we could be good friends. so when things started breaking down, i guess i jumped to the conclusion that you just irrationally had it out for me, and i never stopped to ask you why. and i’m sorry too.” you swallowed thickly, realizing how much anger could’ve been avoided these past few months if the two of you had just pushed aside your egos and communicated.

“look at me, please.” bucky cupped your chin with his hand, lifting your face without much force to let you be in control until you finally met his eye. “hey, it’s- we’re gonna be okay.”

“you said you loved me,” you blurted. “earlier.”

“uh, yeah. i did say that.” you were so used to bucky deflecting from his feelings that his admittance made you laugh. oh yes, you laughed. the bashfulness on the 6-foot-something, genetically enhanced, burly, brooding super soldier’s face was enough to break the stoicism of your conversation.

“you love me!” you giggled. “i’m so sorry, i’m not laughing at you. no, i swear, i’m so- this isn’t me mocking you, i-” you gasped for air as the sentiment finally set in. “buck, you love me?”

“yeah, doll, i do. is… is that okay?”

“yeah, bucky, it is.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x gn!reader #bucky barnes self insert #marvel self insert #marvel imagine #james buchanan barnes #bucky fic #bucky angst #bucky and reader #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers fic #bucky barnes enemies to lovers

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