#Bucky Barnes FF

[purple-babygirl]

welcome baaaack! i missed you so much

i've been here since forever and i remember a very long time ago that you promised us insecure chubby bucky. i never forget and i'm still waiting for him (when you get time for sure). i would love to read that whenever you right it! otherwise i'm really happy you're back again.

much love purple<3

Pairing: Insecure!Chubby!Chef!Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Word Count: 4,180

Summary: Bucky runs into his ex, who manages to mess with his head, bringing his insecurities to the surface again. His girl takes it upon herself to show him how perfect he is.

Warnings: 18+ content, bullying (sort of), fat shaming, negative self body image, insecurities, intrusive thoughts, mentions of cheating, a little crying, a little angst, smut, unprotected vaginal sex, cum, multiple orgasms

A/N: Nonnie, omg, you have been here a long time! I love and appreciate you so so much and I can't believe you stuck around for so long wow:"💜💜 Thank you so much for existing and for being here you're the reason I don't wanna leave again💜💜💜 Here's one insecure chubby bucky for you, I hope you like this one and that I did a good job💜 Thank you again ilyyy, please enjoyxx💜💜(y'all i think i forgot how to write smut what is wrong with me)

~

perfect to me

“I’m so sorry, baby, I have to run,” she told him after checking her phone, pecking his lips and taking quick steps down the aisle of the large store.

Bucky smiled, taking another fruit plate and placing it in their cart. His girl was such a hard worker and he couldn’t be prouder.

It was going to be Christmas soon and his girl was still working hard so Bucky was going to make her the best holiday food she’s ever tasted.

He was focused on picking the freshest cranberries when he heard a scoff, a very familiar one.

“Hey, Ryan,” Bucky sighed, not really wanting to ruin his good mood, as he turned around to meet a face he knew too well.

“What does she owe you?” said Ryan, tilting his head with a smirk.

“What?!”

“There’s no way this chick is seeing you. I figured she must owe you and is just paying her debt!” He smirked further, not even trying to hide his gloating when he saw that his words still had an effect on Bucky.

“My relationship with her is none of your business.” Bucky’s voice was suddenly low as his eyes stared down at the contents of the cart.

“But my relationship with you is.” Ryan put a finger under Bucky’s chin but the latter took a step away.

“We don’t have a relationship. You cheated on me, remember? I was too fat for you.” Bucky’s shaky voice moved nothing inside Ryan. If anything Ryan wanted more.

“And now you’re too fat for her.”

“Shut up. She is nothing like you.”

“Really? Do you even know where she goes when she leaves you? Where she is right now, for example?” Ryan smirked.

“She got called into work and had to run to the office.” Bucky knew he owed him nothing and if he was in his right mind he wouldn’t have went through a conversation with Ryan at all, but he wasn’t.

“How are you still so naïve?” He laughed heartily as if Bucky’s misery was actually amusing to him.

“Leave me alone.” Bucky tried to push the shopping cart and walk away, but Ryan stepped before him.

“I didn’t know your publisher lived in an office.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She leaves you to go fuck your publisher. You know him, black guy, sexily built, very handsome.”

The words left Bucky feeling lightheaded as the world seemed to twirl around him. Could history be repeating itself? No, not this time. His girl was not like that.

“I saw her coming to his building with him.”

“How’d you even-”

“I wait tables in the restaurant across the street from his apartment. I didn’t know she was with you but damn are you lucky you met me today!” Ryan laughed insensitively.

“It’s probably someone else.”

“I think I know what your publisher looks like.”

“You’re lying,” Bucky chocked out, trying to get out of Ryan’s way.

“You don’t sound so sure about that.” Ryan tilted his head again with a smug smirk, poking Bucky’s tummy, “you know why? Because deep down you know she’s too sexy for you. Because you look at her and then at yourself and you can’t figure out why she’d want you. Because you know that sooner or later she’s gonna get tired of your fat ass and—”

“My life now is none of your business, Ryan. You left. You chose to go, so stay gone.” Bucky’s weak voice interrupted, shutting Ryan right up before he sped out of the store, leaving the groceries behind.

“You’ll come back to me when you see for yourself!” He shouted after Bucky, but he didn’t stop nor turn back.

The questions he had raised in Bucky’s head, Bucky had no answers for them himself. Why was this sweet girl with him? What did she see in him? Anyone who met them thought the same thing: they didn’t belong together. So what did she see differently? What was Bucky bringing to their relationship? Could he even satisfy her? Could he keep her fulfilled?

He thought the days where Ryan messed with his head were long gone but he was obviously mistaken. Ryan could still easily hurt him. He could still make him feel as large as an elephant yet smaller than an insect. The dagger he’d planted was in so deep that Bucky couldn’t feel anything but the pain the stab brought.

~

His ex’s words plagued his mind. They took over and drowned out his girl’s voice, pushing it to the background.

All of a sudden, Bucky was very aware of his size, of the way the couch made the slightest sounds under his weight, and the way his girl could fit her whole self on one of his thighs if she wanted to.

“Bucky bear?” A hand on his cheek pulled him out of his thoughts.

Suddenly, he hated the words she nicknamed him with. Bear? Is that how big she thought he was?

“Hmm?”

“I was asking if you wanna go shopping for last minute gifts with me tomorrow,” she repeated, smiling sweetly, her fingers brushing a few hairs back and behind Bucky’s ear as she yawned.

Bucky’s new cookbook became a best seller after one week of release and the publication house was throwing the amazing chef a party.

She couldn’t be prouder and she wanted to support Bucky all the way. She loved Christmas and now it was going to be even better with this event added to their memories.

She was going to go all out for her man and he didn’t even know it. It was going to be a huge surprise and she couldn’t wait to make it happen.

“Yeah, why not,” Bucky replied, faking a smile back.

“What were you busy thinking about?” Her thumb traced his stubbly cheek as she frowned worriedly.

For a wonderfully successful cook, Bucky didn’t look so happy.

“You,” he answered with the truth though his eyes didn’t sparkle like they usually would at the thought of her.

“What about me?” Her smile returned as she stared lovingly at Bucky’s face.

“Why are you with me?” Bucky couldn’t hide the sorrow in his voice if he tried.

“What?” She sat up straight in his lap as her face fell.

“Please don’t make me repeat the question.”

“Buck, where’s this coming from?” Her hands cupped both his cheeks.

“I just don’t get it.” He shook his head, swallowing as his hands removed hers from his face.

“Don’t get what?!” She placed her hands on Bucky’s chest instead, refusing to let him push her away.

“Why you’re here!”

“I’m here because I love you, what’s hard to get, baby?”

“Do you really love me?”

This was serious. She’s never seen her boyfriend look so broken.

“James, what’s going on?”

“Answer the question, plum,” Bucky requested, the back of his fingers stroking over her cheek, knowing this was probably the last time he would get to touch her soft skin.

“Of course I love you!”

“Then why do you leave me to go meet Sam and then lie to me about it?!” Bucky unintentionally raised his voice.

“W—what?”

There were so many emotions overwhelming her and none of them was pleasant.

She was shocked, hurt and dejected. Bucky has never raised his voice at her before.

 “What were you doing together last night? And the night before and the night before that?!”

“Bucky, you’ve got it all wrong.” She shook her head, heartbroken that Bucky would think of her like that.

“Please leave.” He slid her off his lap and stood up, turning his back to her.

“Bucky.” Tears pricked her eyes.

“Leave, plum.”

“Bucky, me and Sam were—”

“If you won’t leave then I will.” Bucky sped to the door, grabbing his jacket from where it was hanged.

The last thing he wanted was to cry in front of her too. He’s already shown his weakness once; never again.

“Bucky!”

He ignored her calls, ready to run out of the door and let his legs take him far away where he’d have to hear no lies and could no longer get hurt.

“James Bucky Barnes, don’t you dare walk out on me!” She blocked the door, preventing Bucky from exiting the apartment.

Her eyes glistened with yet to be shed tears as her heart pounded in her chest. The mere idea of losing Bucky for any reason terrified her more than anything else.

She loved the man with her heart and soul and would go to the ends of the Earth for his sake. Why couldn’t he see that?

“I didn’t wanna ruin the surprise but… your book is a best seller. Me and Sam were planning you a party to celebrate. We figured if we met at the restaurant it’d ruin the surprise so I saw him at his place after work.”

Bucky stared at her dumbly.

“You can call Sam if you don’t believe me.”

“Oh.” Bucky felt like someone’s just dumped a bucket of cold water over his head; felt like an absolute idiot, “oh, plum.”

“I’m sorry I kept it a secret, but I’m not sorry I wanted to do something nice for the man I love.” A tear rolled down her cheek and her lower lip trembled, “and I’m really sad with you for stalking me and doubting me like that. I didn’t expect that from you, Bucky… and I’m hurt.”

“Sweet plum-”

“You can leave now if you still want to.” She took quick steps to the bedroom, leaving Bucky at the door.

It wasn’t often that she and Bucky fought and it was never something that couldn’t be solved within an hour. He could never bear to see her upset, let alone let her go to bed mad at him.

“Plum,” Bucky softly knocked on her door, swallowing the lump stuck in his throat, “can I please come in?”

But this was big.

Bucky has doubted her love for him. He has insulted her loyalty and ruined everything because of his insecurities and the poisonous words of a man who never cared for him.

She opened the door for him in a heartbeat, her face soaked in tears.

“No, no, sweet plum.” Bucky took her in his arms, praying to the deities she wouldn’t repel from his touch.

“You pushed me out of your lap.” She sobbed, her chest heaving and her forehead pressed to his shoulder.

His accusations hurt but the fact that he pushed her away somehow hurt her more.

Bucky couldn’t help but let his tears fall as well.

How could he be so thoughtless? She was the one good thing in his life and he almost let her go. No amount of restaurants he could open could make him feel as happy as a smile from her would.

He could write a library and collect every prize ever known to humankind, and she would still be the best thing Bucky has ever won over.

“I’m stupid, baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His hold tightened, engulfing her smaller frame in a desperate hug, “please don’t cry because of an idiot like me. I’m sorry, sweet plum. Forgive me, baby.”

“Why’d you do it?” Her sad eyes looked at him in question, full of confusion yet void of bitterness.

“I- sweet plum-” Bucky didn’t know how to answer her question because now that he looked back, he could see how stupid it all was.

Why did he follow her for 3 consecutive nights while she went to meet Sam instead of just trusting her? Why did he choose to believe and trust in Ryan’s words and not her love for him? Why was it easier for him to imagine her with someone like Sam but impossible to think of her with someone like himself?

“It’s because I’m a big idiot,” Bucky replied.

“Bucky.”

“Please forgive me, plum.” Bucky pecked her temple.

“Tell me what happened.”  She demanded softly, wiping Bucky’s own tears away and kissing his chin.

“Nothing happened, sweet plum. I got inside my own head again. I’m sorry, baby.” Bucky lied with a sad smile, too ashamed to admit Ryan’s words almost had him ruining the best relationship he’s ever been in.

She nodded understandingly, her hand cupping Bucky’s face as she rested his forehead on hers.

Bucky would tell her when he was ready. She didn’t want to stay mad at him. She knew he had issues with self confidence and she wasn’t about to make him feel even worse. He would come to her when he was comfortable. Bucky would tell her on his own.

“Please stay.” She whispered, her teary eyes heavy with sleep, yet afraid to go to bed and have Bucky leave after.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweet plum.” Bucky kissed her forehead, taking her by the hand to their bed.

~

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Her soothing voice whispered, filling the dark room.

Bucky was laying wide awake, Ryan’s words playing in his ears over and over again. What he did to his girl and how he made her cry. All the messed up shit he did just hours ago gnawed at him and took the sleep away from his eyes.

“I ran into Ryan,” Bucky finally replied, unable to sleep while he’s hiding something from her, “he filled my head with thoughts about you leaving me for Sam, and I let him.” He admitted to the ceiling, hesitant to meet her eyes.

“I would never leave you,” she promised him without reluctance, cupping his face and making him look at her.

She wanted him to see all the love her eyes held for him with no shame.

“Please don’t. I will lose the weight, I will—”

“Wait, what? He told you I’d leave you because of your weight?” Both hands were back on Bucky’s cheeks, thumbs wiping under his eyes.

Bucky nodded.

“And you believed him?”

“It’s why he left me.” He shrugged.

“Bucky,” she sighed.

“I know I know. It’s what’s on the inside that counts—”

“Don’t talk as if you’re not physically breathtaking!”

“Baby—”

“No! You have no idea how handsome you are, do you?!”

“Plum, you don’t have to say such stuff.” Bucky shook his head sheepishly and regretted it when he saw sadness cover her delicate features.

She quickly shook it off, scratching her forehead before taking Bucky’s hand, helping him sit up in their bed.

“Sweet plum, what are you doing?” Bucky asked when she started moving the covers down his torso.

“Gonna love on my man. Would you let me, Bucky? Can I love on you?” she asked, her voice soft and sweet.

Bucky nodded, hypnotized by the adoration shining in her eyes and she started to undress him.

Her eyes never left his as she took piece by piece of clothing off, revealing his beautiful figure to her, her smile only faltering when she bit down at the sight of her man in all his naked glory.

Bucky’s body was lit up under the soft moonlight coming from the window, helping her appreciate every curve and inch.

This gorgeous human being was his and he was hers.

“You’re so fucking sexy you take my breath away,” she moaned, slipping out of her own sweater, “and I don’t just mean the way you make me cum so many times until I have to fight for oxygen.” She brushed her lips on his.

Bucky was speechless. He could only stare and try not to lose his own oxygen.

“Keep your eyes open for me, Buck.” She pecked his lips once and he opened his eyes at once, not even realizing he’d closed them in the first place.

She smiled at how fast he followed the instruction, leaning back on the headboard and licking his lips.

Bucky’s groan when her bra hit the ground made her giggle. She slipped out of her panties, leaving herself bare before Bucky’s eyes.

“Come here, plum,” Bucky’s arms reached for her but she shook her head.

“This is about you, Bucky Bear.”

She climbed on the bed between Bucky’s legs, her hands wandering along his shins, thumbs caressing up his inner thighs. She bowed forward, peppering kisses on Bucky’s soft flesh.

“I love your thighs,” her lips moved higher and higher, the tiny kisses and nibbles driving Bucky crazy as he tried not to touch himself, “love how thick they are. So strong. So perfect. I would ride them all day if you’d let me.”

Bucky whimpered when she accompanied the honest words with a bite, leaving her mark on his pale flesh.

“And that ass,” she moaned, her hands sliding underneath Bucky, pulling his legs up and cupping his ass cheeks.

Bucky’s shy gasp made her smirk. He was so precious she could eat him. Maybe she should some day…

She let Bucky’s legs settle back on the bed and kept kissing up and up, skipping his twitching cock on purpose and placing wet kisses on his tummy instead. Her eyes locked with his and Bucky bit his pink lip.

He looked so beautiful, blushing, disheveled and turned on like that. His pupils were dilated, his cheeks rosy and his breath uneven; she was falling in love with this chef all over again.

“I love your tummy so so much,” her tongue dipped in Bucky’s bellybutton and the flush spread from his cheeks and on to his neck and chest.

Another moan slipped from his lips as her warm tongue lapped at his skin. She was full on licking him now.

Her words were romantic but the way she was loving him was driving him insane.

“I love to feel it against me when we hug,” she kissed his right side, “I love when you let me rest my head on it and I get to hear you breathe and feel your heartbeat,” she kissed his belly, “I love how it warms my back when you spoon me. And I love feeling it pushing against my ass when you take me from behind.” She pressed a final kiss to his left side.

“My favourite has got to be your cock though.” She gave his leaking dick a single pump and his hips were already bucking off the bed, “I’m a sucker for this cock, baby. Literally.”

Bucky was too busy whining when her mouth wrapped around the crown of his cock to call her out on her bad joke.

His whole body was on fire with need for her. He needed her to do something, anything.

“Plum, please. Let me get you ready. I need you. I need to be inside you.”

Bucky didn’t want to cum in her mouth, not this time. He needed to be buried deep inside her and he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to last.

“I’m ready,” she said, situating herself on top of his cock, rubbing the tip on her wet folds, letting out filthy mewls at the feel of him against the lips of her pussy, “always ready for you, baby.”

Before Bucky could argue that he should at least make sure she was prepared to take him just in case, she was pushing the tip of him in, stretching herself out on his cock with her head thrown back and her mouth open in a silent scream.

“Fuck, plum, so tight,” Bucky groaned, feeling her pussy grip every inch as soon as it disappeared inside her.

When she has completely impaled herself on Bucky’s cock, she stilled, taking a minute to get used to the stretch.

No burn has ever felt as good as the burn she got when Bucky’s dick split her in half. Getting opened on this cock was her favorite thing in the world.

She dragged her lips along his stubbly jaw as she waited, kissing all over his face, savoring the moment as sweetly as possible as if the head of Bucky’s cock wasn’t almost touching up her cervix.

Her open palms glided from around Bucky’s neck to his shoulders and down his arms until she reached his palms.

“and those hands, I think you already know how much I love your hands.” She chuckled as she continued and Bucky nodded, squirming below her.

“I love when you hold my hand; makes me feel safe; chosen,” she rolled her hips, making Bucky groan wantonly.

“I love how fast you can make me cum on the fingers of your left hand.” She whined when Bucky’s hands dug in her sides as she moved on him, surely leaving bruises behind.

“Fuck, plum-” Bucky was so close so fast and he wished he could last longer but the movement of her body on top of his, the words leaving her mouth and her walls snug around his cock were too much.

“I love you. Every inch, every part. I love all of you, Bucky.”

Bucky groaned in reply, chest heaving as he watched her take him.

“I love every part of you. I crave your touch like my lungs crave air.”

Bucky involuntarily thrust up, making her eyes roll.

“Oh Buck!” she wailed, Bucky hitting her favorite spots so good.

He couldn’t stop his hips from meeting hers every time she came down to take his cock over and over again, eyes glued to where he was disappearing inside of her.

“Nothing could ever match the feeling of being filled up of you, Bucky.”

“I love you, plum ahhh fuck,” Bucky moaned, overwhelmed by emotions and ready to burst any second.

“I love you too, Bucky bear. You’re my everything; my one and only.” She kissed him hard, thighs shaking around his body as she came on his cock.

Bucky couldn’t help but let go himself, cumming harder than he has ever before, filling her up with so much cum until he felt it leak out of her despite having her plugged on his softening cock.

She moaned at the warmth of his cum, shuddering when it seeped out of her.

“Fuck, plum,” Bucky sighed on her shoulder, breath still shaky.

She giggled shyly, burying her face in Bucky’s neck.

“Where did that come from?” Bucky asked, cupping her cheek so he could look at her.

She was glowing, smiling at him so innocently as if his cock wasn’t still buried deep up her leaking, pulsing pussy.

“From here.” She pointed to the spot between her breasts.

“Right here?” Bucky leaned forward to press a kiss on her hot skin, making her laugh as she nodded.

“I love you,” he whispered on her lips.

“I love you, Bucky. I love every tiny detail about you inside out. Nothing will ever change that.” She promised, seeing his eyes soften once again, insecurity dissipating.

“Thank you, plum.” Bucky hugged her close, kissing her shoulder and the back of her neck.

“Thank you for letting me show you how much I love you.”

“So you love my cock huh?” Bucky teased.

“Buckyyyy,” she whined, trying to get away as her face heated up.

“No, say it.” Bucky bit his lip, looking at her with a smirk.

“You know I do. Stop.”

“No, plum. I don’t know anything.” Bucky shook his head trying to act serious, “say it again.”

“Iloveyourcock,” she mumbled, trying to take herself off his cock.

“What was that, plum?” Bucky thrust upward into her and even with a soft cock he could make her make the sweetest sound.

“Hngh, I love your cock, Bucky,” she moaned, throwing her head back.

“Hmm, how much?” Bucky swirled his hips, feeling himself get hard again.

“S-so much,” she admitted as his cock stretched her sensitive pussy.

Bucky held her close, turning them the other way around and gave a deep push when he was on top, his cum making the filthiest squelching sounds as she screamed an “oh god”.

“So much you’d let me take you again?”

“Yes, yes,” she nodded frantically, not wanting the man to stop his thrusts.

And he wasn’t going to.

Bucky’s tummy pinned her down as he pressed his lips to hers, eating up her squeals as he pounded her into the bed, showing her how much he loved her.

~

“So you really don’t care about my weight?” Bucky asked, supporting his body up on his elbows as he stared at her glossy eyes.

She could barely remember her name as she tried to come down from the other two orgasms Bucky has just given her, his body still on top of hers, but that wasn’t a question she needed to think about the answer to.

“I only want you okay and healthy, Bucky. If you’re comfortable, I’m comfortable. If you’re happy, I’m happy. Otherwise, you’re perfect to me,” she told him with a shrug, pushing his wet hair behind his ears, “every little thing about you is perfect.”

“I love you so much, plum.”

“I love you more.” She smiled, heart fluttering at the look he was giving her.

“Not possible.” Bucky kissed her lips, “not possible, plum.”

~

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[lovelybarnes]

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

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[amasterpieceofmadness]

museum – bucky b.

parings Bucky Barnes x reader

summary Bucky and you visit the museum as it won’t stop raining. As you are looking through the exhibition you stumble across an old picture of him and Steve…

warnings established relationship, mentions of Bucky’s past, fluff

word count 1k

---------------------

“I want to go to the history exhibition first” You announce as you take a close look at the museum plan.

Bucky just nods, giving you a soft smile “Sure, whatever you want, doll”

It’s been raining for 3 days and it’s getting really boring in the compound with not much to do there. So, Bucky had the idea to spend a day at the museum. And this is where you two are right now. You walk through the halls together, looking around curiously. The exhibition is impressive and Bucky’s hand rests at the small of your back as you look through the displayed items together.

As you enter the next room you find yourselves in an exhibition of World War 2. You take a look at Bucky, who is already looking around a bit stunned and speechless. “We can skip it, if you want” You suggest but Bucky quickly shakes his head.

“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry, doll” he shoots you one of his handsome smiles and you return it as you both start to roam through the exhibit.

You are looking through some old medals and pictures displayed. As you are searching for Bucky you can find him in front of a showcase, so, you step closer to get a better look. “Is that…?”

“Yes,” Bucky nods “it is.” You are looking at the old uniform of none other than Captain America. It’s pretty different from the tactical suit Steve wears nowadays on missions. The one from back then is more like a suit for theatre, which is not surprising considering what he had to do at that time. The suit looks worn out a bit, the red and white stripes still bright though.

This part of the exhibition shows the life of Steve Rogers back than as a national hero. As you continue to admire the uniform Bucky looks around. He comes to a stop in front of a wall full of old letters and pictures. You come closer too and notice his changed expression. He looks deep in thought, a bit nostalgic and wistful even. He is looking at an old picture of young Steve right before going to war. Next to him is a young man with short dark hair, wearing the same military uniform as Steve.

“Is that… you?” You ask in utter disbelief. Bucky doesn’t respond, only gives you a short nod. He can’t tear his eyes away from this picture. Under it is a short description, quoting “Steven Rogers and his friend James Barnes, one day before departure, 1943. It is the last picture of James Barnes before his death 3 days later”. To say you are shocked is an understatement. Of course, for the world this soldier was just a number, lucky enough to be friends with Americas national hero, who died 70 years ago.

But he is still here, right next to you. You cannot believe that this is a picture of young Bucky. He must be around 26 years old on it. And even though you can see in his eyes that he has been through a lot since then, he still has the same cute smile. A wave of emotions rushes over you as you continue to look at this picture and the description. Their life was so differently, and yet, somehow they both ended up in a reality that shouldn’t exist for the both of them. And you don’t even want to imagine what they had to endure over all this time.

Your breathing starts to get shaky and tears dwell in your eyes. You then feel a hand on your shoulder, comforting you. It’s Bucky. He is no longer looking at the picture, his eyes are focused solely on you. There’s concern in his face. “What’s wrong, doll?”

You simply shake my head, taking a deep breath. You shouldn’t be the one who needs comfort right now. Instead, you should be the one who comforts him, as this is for sure not easy for Bucky. “Nothing” You give him a forced smile.

Bucky tilts his head, not believing you. “Don’t dwell on the past. I’m still here” He whispers the last part and pulls you into a soft hug. Your arms wrap around him immediately and you burry your head into the crook of his neck. “I’m still here…” He repeats his words, talking more to himself than to you, which shows just how much he is dwelling on the past right now, even though he tells you not to.

Before you pull apart Bucky presses a soft kiss to your forehead and looks into your eyes, still concerned. “Everything okay, doll?”

You nod and peck his lips with yours quickly. “Yes, how about you?”

His smile grows a bit. “Of course. If all those things didn’t happen, I wouldn’t be here with you now”

His words make you smile as well, and he takes your hand softly in his before you walk out of the exhibition together, taking one last look at the picture. You spend the whole evening sitting on the couch together in the compound, Bucky talking about his life before war, before Hydra, and you listen closely to every single detail. And even though not all memories are good ones, his infamous smirk returns to his lips every now and then.

A/N Here is my complete masterlist with all the ff, imagines, oneshots, smut and whatever. Check it out and leave a like :)

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[aalyssah]

Pool Table

Pairing: Mob!Boss!Bucky Barnes x Waitress!Reader

Warnings: Smut. Only Names, (Whore & Slut) Oral, (Fem receiving) Praise, and Spitting.

Word Count: 3,640

Summary: Bucky teaches you how to play pool.

A/N: I’ve never played pool before, so I’m sorry if this is wrong. I personally don’t really like this one, but hope you Enjoy!

You just moved a couple of months ago to New York for a new start and no drama. You were a young waitress that worked at a bar and it's been ok since you moved there and they pay good but the only thing you dislike is the horny men.

They will do anything for your attention. But there is one man that doesn't even have to try and that is Bucky Barnes. He's so handsome, his clothes look expensive, he has tattoos down his arm and you can even see his abs, just everything about that man screamed 'Daddy'.

He owns New York so it's no surprise about how expensive he looks. At least 2 times a week he will check in on everyone and you notice how he looks at you and it makes your heart skip a beat. He will sometimes go to the bar, order and drink, and watch you work. It makes you wonder if he's gonna fire you.

You were woken up by your alarm and got ready for your day. You took a shower and skipped breakfast because you weren't hungry. You put on your outfit and headed outside before locking your door. As you walked out you heard someone cat call you. You rolled your eyes and got in your car.

There were a lot of beautiful women everywhere so why you? You weren't anything special. You didn't wear pounds of makeup or spend every last penny to make your breast bigger or ass. You were more happy with what God gave you. You drove humming to your favorite song on the radio.

You shortly arrived at the bar and sighed as you got out 'This is gonna be a long day.' You thought. Today is Thirsty Thursdays which means all the people nearby will come have a drink or two, so the place is gonna be packed.

You walked in and were greeted with your coworker Jamie. "Hey Y/n!" She cheerfully said. "Hey Jamie." You gave her a hug and went to the back to put your stuff up. "Hey there beautiful." Ugh. You groaned at your coworker named Luke . Ever since you moved here he's been flirting with you and you've rejected him a total of 98 times in 3 months.

Yes you've counted.

You've never met someone as desperate as him. "Hi Luke." You annoyingly said. "I was wondering if-" You already knew what he was gonna say "No I'm busy." You walked away and saw the place filling up. You silently cried to yourself as you took out your notebook and went to serve the first table.

There was a man maybe in his late 30s and a young man that looked 19. "Hi, how may I help you?" You asked, putting on a fake smile. "Yeah you can start with sitting on my dick!" The 19 year old boy spoke up. He let out a loud laugh and you just cringed.

"I'm so sorry about my son. He's just a horny teenager." The older man said, "It's fine, but what can I get you?" They told you their orders and you left. "Jamie, they want two shots of the green apple Hennessy." You said going to another table.

That's pretty much how your afternoon went. You took orders and gave them what they wanted. You even got tips from people, your day was going good. Until Bucky walked in. It was like his eyes automatically locked onto your body. He watched as your hips moved side to side from the beat of the music.

Bucky decided to play pool so he walked over and sat his things down. Luke walked up confident he was gonna win "Aye! Mr.Bucks let me play with you!" He was acting like they were all buddy, buddy, but then realized they weren't from Bucky's expression.

"What did you just call me?" He says angrily, making people look over. "S-sorry M-mr.Barnes." Bucky felt like playing against someone so he agreed.

"Hey pretty lady!" A man called from across the bar. You grabbed your notebook and made your way over only to stop in your tracks when you Bucky and Luke were playing pool. You didn't want to be seen by both but there was no escaping so you went over to the man.

"Hi sir, how may I help you?" He told his order and before you could leave you heard Luke calling you. "Hey Y/n baby come here!" You growled when he called you baby. You ignored him and got the drinks for the man. You tried walking away but felt a hand on your wrist pulling you.

"Baby wanna come play with us?" You looked up and made eye contact with Bucky before quickly looking down. It was silent as you didn't answer until Bucky broke the silence "Everyone out Y/n stay." Every man in the room rushed, pushing each other out the door, even Luke left.

You stood there awkwardly waiting for something to happen "I wanna play with you doll." That nickname went straight to your panties. "O-ok but I don't know h-how to play." You warned him. "Good I'll teach you!" He said, smiling big. "Come here."

You slowly walked to him as he put the balls in a triangle shape using a rack. "You know how to hold the cue?" He asked, chuckling at your confused face. "You hold it like this.." He held the cue on his hip and bent down a little so he was at eye level with the ball.

He put the stick between his thumb and pointer finger so the cue was on his thumb. He eyed the target ball, lining up his shot before pushing the cue and hitting the target. Multiple color balls fell in the holes and he smirked.

"You think you can do that?" He asked, handing you the cue. "I'll try." You said going to the target ball. You leaned down a little but got stuck on how to hold the cue. "Do you need a doll?" He whispered in your ear while his hands trailing up your side. "Y-yes."

"Get low." He said slowly pushing you down by the lower part of your back. He bent you over the table and his arms came around to your hands. "You wanna put it between your fingers." He said, guiding the cue between your fingers.

"How do you shoot?" He tested you. "Push it through." You said sliding it in and out. "If you wanna hit the ball fast, slide it hard." He thrusted behind you making you hit the ball and a moan slipped out. You gasped and covered your mouth embarrassed, hoping he didn't hear it.

But he did.

"What was that doll?" He teased me. You could hear the smirk in his voice. "Uh s-sir I need to go w-work, so if you'll e-excuse me." You tried moving the other way but he trapped you. "Why are you running from me Y/n?" He said blocking your exits. "I see the way you look at me when you think I'm not watching." He said making you blush.

His hand trailed down your face to your throat, squeezing lightly. "Admit it. You want me." You looked at him with innocent eyes. You knew the difference between the truth and lie and saying you didn't want him to bend you over this pool table and rearrange your guts would be the lie.

"I-Uh, Mr.B-barnes we-" He squeezed harder making your hands fly up to his wrist in an attempt to loosen his hold. "Doll, there's no need to call me Mr.Barnes. Call me daddy." When he said that you felt your panties become a waterfall. Your legs got weak and you started sweating. "T-that's not very p-professional."

He glared at you and that made you shiver in fear. "Y/n your being a bad girl and I don't like bad girls." He warned in a deep voice. He his hands went under your thigh, putting you on the pool table. His hands rested on the waistband of your skirt. "Tell me to stop, Tell me you don't want this." He urges you.

But that was a thing. You couldn't tell him to stop. No matter how much your mind protested you wanted this man and the fact he wanted you was a miracle. "I-I do." The moment you said those words he pulled your skirt along with your panties and got on the floor. He was now at eye level with your wet dripping cunt.

"Wow, look at that. A wet cunt dripping all over my pool table. You gonna pay for ruining it?" He asked, running a finger through your folds, admiring. "You look so beautiful doll and I haven't even started." He said making you blush. His mouth inched closer until you could feel the breath breathing on your core. "Beg Me."

Those two words made you wanna delete yourself from existence. There's nothing more embarrassing than begging. You've had past boyfriend but all they did was fuck your and leave. They didn't wait for you to cum. They would just fuck you until THEY came. You've never been satisfied so you having to beg to be fucked is a no.

"N-no." Bucky's eyes turned dark for a second. "No?" His deep voice asked. "Did you just say no to me?" You 're starting to get nervous even though you knew Bucky wouldn't hurt you. "If I recall correctly, you said you wanted me but now all of a sudden it's a 'No'?" He had a point. You wanted him, it's just you didn't want to beg.

"So you can beg me to eat and fuck that pretty little pussy, or I'll leave you right here, right now." You haven't had sex in a while and you craved this man. He already turned you on so there was no way you were gonna let him walk away from you like this.

You put your head down to avoid any eye contact. "P-please." Your voice was just above a whisper. "What was that? Imma need you to speak up, doll." His hand pushed your chin up so you were looking at him in his eyes. "Please e-eat me." Bucky still had a frown on his face and he stood up.

He made his way to the door as you got nervous. You thought he was about to leave so you yelled. "N-no Bucky p-please fuck me. I p-promise I'll be a good g-girl." Bucky stopped in his tracks and smiled. "There we go." He walked back over to you and crouched down.

"Look at her. Begging for release." When Bucky started talking to your pussy it made you clench around nothing. He tested the waters by running a finger down your slit, collecting your juices in his finger.

"Wow, would you look at that?" He brought his finger to his nose and sniffed. "Smells good, let's see if it tastes good." You thought he was gonna like his finger but instead his head lowered down to your core. Your breath hitched as his tongue licked from your slit to your clit

Your hand reached for the edge of the pool table, trying to steady yourself. "Mmm taste as good as you smell." You were blushing hearing him praise your pussy. He used his fingers to spread your fold and licked in between.

It's been a long time since you had any sort of pleasure so this felt extra good. His tongue agonizingly ran slow around your clit causing you to let out a whine.

"G-go faster." You said grabbing Bucky's hair and pushing him further into your core. Bucky snapped back and gave you a death stare. "What was that? It almost sounded like you were demanding me? Did you forget who's in charge?" The way he looked at you and sounded made you even wetter.

"I-I'm sorry it just feels g-good." Bucky ignored your pleads and went back down. His hand circled your clit while his tongue licked your folds. You slowly went down on your elbows, feeling your arms about to give out. His lips attached to your core and he sucked and ran his tongue through your hole.

You tried quieting your whines and moans but it felt good. You felt like a virgin all over again except it wasn't painful. All that went through you was pleasure. "P-please." You didn't even know what you were pleading for but all you knew is that you needed more.

Bucky sat up a little, spreading your folds apart with his fingers and stuck his tongue inside of you. His thumb came up to rub your clit as you moaned loudly. You could feel the stubble of his beard on your inner thigh and his nose bumping your clit. 'Pleases' fall from your lips as you take hold of whatever you feel.

That being Bucky's suit.

And held on for dear life. "You gonna cum?" You heard Bucky ask with the following slurping sounds. "Mmmh." You couldn't say a word but hopefully he understood. His mouth pulled away from your dripping core. "What was that doll?" He was playing with you at that point. You let out a long whine when you felt something inside of you.

You knew that it wasn't Bucky's cock because you could see the bulge through his pants at all times. You looked down and moaned while throwing your head back, clenching at the sight. It was Bucky pumping in and out of you with his fingers inside of your pussy.

Wet noises could be heard from you body. "Listen to that. You're so wet for me. You wanna cum like a whore?" He increased the pace of his fingering and was moving all around. It was like he was searching for something? He let out a satisfied smile when you moaned, pulling the suit.

Even though you ripped his suit a little and made a button pop off he wasn't mad. He was mainly happy because HE was making you feel like you were in heaven with just his finger. He was proud. "B-Bu-" You couldn't even say his name because he was attacking your G-spot. You've never been able to reach it using toys, your fingers, dildos, and even a hair brush, nothing works. Except Bucky.

"Go on. Cum for me. Come undone on this pool table." Your body shook as your hands turned red and white from holding onto his suit. This wasn't very professional of you. You didn't need to give him a warning because a loud moan came out of your mouth as you cummed.

Bucky had to hold you down by your thighs because your back was arched, lifting you off the table.

"Good girl, good girl." He mumbled as he slowly pumped in and out of your cunt. Slight wet noises could still be heard as he slowed down. Pulling his finger out he could see a little gaping hole from his fingers. Bucky quickly pulled out his phone and took a picture of your cunt. You heard the flash noise and just protested with a mumble saying No.

You didn't have the energy so stop him as you laid there breathing heavily. "T-Thank y-you." You thought he was done and that he would leave. "Oh doll. You didn't think I was done did you?" He laughed before getting up and your level.

"W-what?" You looked in his eyes with a confused and fearful look on, while he smiled. "You really think I'm just gonna taste your cunt and finger you till you cum, and not fuck you?" He shook his head 'No' while undoing his suit pants. "Such a selfish girl only thinking about yourself, what about me?"

You attempted to crawl back but was stopped when he grabbed your ankles. "This isn't cat and mouse baby, I'm not gonna chase you." He put your legs over his shoulder and rubbed the tip of his cock near your entrance, collecting your juices. "We're gonna do colors. What's the color?"

"Green." He pushed his cock inside you causing you to make a sort of uncomfortable sound while he groaned at your thighness. "Shit, why are you so tight?" Bucky expected you to be tight but not this tight. "B-been way too l-long." Bucky almost didn't believe that someone as pretty as you haven't gotten fucked.

"Don't worry, I'll break the streak and might even break your back." You let out a gasp as he said those words, but quickly turned into a moan when he thrusted slowly. The thrust was slow but reached deep. Every time his thighs connected to your ass you moaned and shifted up a little.

"So tight." His pace was steady. He didn't want to rush into things just yet. "F-faster?" Your hands reached down to his thighs and pulled them towards you. "You want me to go faster?" It almost sounded like he was unsure of your request. "Yeah." He shook his head slowly before snapping fast.

He put one let down and the other up his shoulder before thrusting. Every thrusted caused your thigh to jiggle and you moan. Skin clapping and was heard as well as your whines. His pace was fast and it seemed like he wasn't gonna stop nor slow down anytime soon. "Do you like this?" Bucky asked, leaning down so he was hovering over yours.

He reached deeper, the further he laid down and it made your eyes cross. You could feel drool coming out the sides of his mouth. You felt his finger rub on your lips and smear your spit all over you, following up with his spit. "Such a dirty whore, getting spit on." Babbles and mumbled words were coming out of your mouth without even knowing.

He was reaching so deep, that you could feel the tip of his cock on your g-spot as much as you wanted him to hit it, you didn't want this to end. His hand went down and rubbed your clit making you cry out. "Bucky!" You didn't mean to yell but it just all felt good.

"You wanna cum?" He could feel the way you clenched around him. You nodded your head fast, but all you got was a slap. "Don't act dumb, use your words." His speed increased faster and his balls slapped against your ass and you could feel the pool table shaking and other balls moving in different directions.

"P-please! I wanna c-cum!" He hummed in satisfaction and leaned down once more and took your right nipple in his mouth while using his hand to play with the other. He was so close that you could feel his hips rub against your clit making you feel like you were in heaven.

Grunts realized from his mouth as he thrusted harder. The pool table was moving from its original spot while you were knocking balls through the holes without even knowing. "Cum for me, cum for me Y/n." Your stomach tightened as you felt your release coming.

"Come on Y/n, cum in your boss's cock like the slut you are." That was it. His dirty talk line could make you cum. You let out a loud moan and came. Your body was shaking especially your legs and Bucky had to hold you down. "Good girl." He muttered.

All it took was for one thing: he would be over. You wanted to help him so you reached over and cupped his balls, squeezing them a little. To your surprise a moan came out his mouth making him blush. You didn't care that he moaned. It was the fact YOU made him moan.

"Do that again doll." You reached down and you felt how his balls swung at your hand fast before gripping them and squeezing them. "Come on Bucky, cum in me." To your surprise Bucky leaned down and kissed you. He stilled as he emptied in you.

His cum was dripping out of you as he pulled back. "Fuck." He pulled out and watched as his cut dripped on the table and the floor. He ran a finger and scooped some of your juices before bringing it to his mouth. "Taste so good." His mouth went down and sucked on your clit before his phone rang. He looked at it and groaned when he saw it was his best friend.

He pushed a finger inside of you and slowly pumped it in and out before answering the call. "What is it Steve?" Your hand covered your mouth as whimpers fell from them. "Fine, I'll be down there." Bucky hung up and pulled his finger out. "Have a taste doll." You opened your mouth a little and he shoved his finger down your throat.

"I have to get a doll, but tomorrow, we'll play pool again." He picked up his pants from off the floor and put them in. He saw his suit and how it was ripped. "You ripped my suit." He made a sad voice. You did feel bad, but it was all too good. "S-sorry." You looked down. "Aw it's fine, as long as you do it because of ME, I'm not complaining."

He picked your panties off the floor before putting them in his pocket and helping you put your shirt back on. He walked you out slowly since your legs felt like jelly and got looks from Luke.

"Tomorrow doll." Was the last thing he said before walking out, leaving you a flushed, weak mess.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes ff #bucky barnes and reader #bucky barnes one shot #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #mob!bucky #mob!bucky smut #mafia!bucky barnes

[pinkiebieberpie]

i have a thought and i have to share it with the class.

beefy!neighbour!bucky x reader, you two are in your 20s and he is always flirting with you, trying to convince you to go out with him, oh and it works; date with him was great, he was such a gentleman; a lot of little touches, his hands brushing yours; now let's talk about how big he is; size difference!!! you can only imagine all the things he could do to you, with his body and his hands; he is kind of a fuckboy, but he knows how to be respectful;

bucky moodboards + blurbs

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky barnes moodboard #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes ff #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan smut #beefy!bucky #neighbour!bucky

[stray-kaz]

Girl Dad : a Dad!Bucky Barnes blurb

When Luna Esther Barnes was born, the world tilted on its axis, light was lit and the sun rose. At least, that’s what it was like for Bucky. The midwife handed him a small, pink blanket wrapped bundle that wriggled in his arms and yawned up at him. He stared at her, at her soft patch of brown hair and her blue eyes, a faded version of his own.

He loved her from the very start, but even he could not have foretold just how tightly she would have him wrapped around her little finger in just a few short years.

He did find out, however, when he realised he was sitting on his couch, in the condo he shared with you and your daughter, perfectly still, Winter Soldier still, while Luna daubed glittery pink eyeshadow all over his eyelids and too red rouge on his stubbled cheeks.

He found out when you wandered into the living room to tell him something and doubled over laughing, your breath catching in uneven hiccups.

He found out when his ten o’clock meeting with the senator arrived and he answered the door to the man in a dark suit, his own henley and jeans rumpled, hair disheveled by little fingers and girlish makeup decorating his face.

The senator raised his eyebrows, but Bucky just held up a hand and shook his head.

“I have a four year old daughter. Just come on in.”

#bucky barnes #dad!bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes ff #liss writes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff

[sleepisaturn]

warm mugs and warm hugs

Christmas fic ⛄

PAIRING—boyfriend!bucky barnes x gn!reader

SUMMARY—as Bucky's partner you absolutely can't allow it that he spends Christmas alone.

WARNINGS—hurt/comfort, sad Bucky, a pinch of angst but this is technically a fluffy fic

A/N—I know its way past Christmas but hey IM BACK BITCHES

A knock awoke Bucky who's in bed, well more like disturbed as he wasn't actually asleep. He tried but Bucky's an insomniac; who's only effective sleeping pill is you. He groaned as he rolled off his bed, landing on the soft but rough carpet under the wooden bed frame.

" I swear to God, it's the holidays, didn't that mean I get a few days where people don't disturb— " his annoyed murmurs was silenced by the view of the person on the other side of the door. The corners of his mouth turn upwards as he saw the person through the peephole. Half your face hidden by a scarf, a box of cookies on one hand and a thermos on the other that contained hot chocolate, held by cute green mittens that he gifted you a few days prior. Pride filled his chest as he sees the green mittens being out to use.

" doll ... you're supposed to be with you're family " Bucky's raspy deep voice called and sighs as he accepts your hug, a warm feeling dancing on his stomach as the smile on his face widens when you nuzzled your head on his chest. His arms wrapping tighter around your body as he finally feels at home, the cold atmosphere of his apartment warming up with just your presence.

" and I am " your small murmured voice replied as he pulled both your bodies near the kitchen whilst still in each other's embrace.

A comfortable silence fell as the two of you untangled from each other. Your hand immediately clasping itself with his as you looked at him with lots of love but a tint of sadness as you remember the reason you were here in the first place.

He sighed seeing the look on your eyes, mistaking it for pity but he knew you were just concerned but deep down he thinks just like everybody else, you just pity him and sometimes he's scared it's the actual reason that you're dating him.

Your body immediately followed Bucky's as he turned away from you, his head turning to yours as you use your palm to gently hold the side of his face. The growing beard slightly tickling your palms as you caressed his cheeks, a sad smile forming on your face as you notice his eyes that couldn't look at yours.

" hey, I'm not mad, I'm just ... it's the holidays, it's Christmas—it's an unspoken rule that you can't be alone for Christmas, baby "

He mirrors your hand, the back of his fingers slowly caressing the side of your face. He's still cautious about touching you even with his non metal arm because just like everything in his life, he thinks he'll ruin you—hurt you and even worse break you.

You knew that, you saw a lot of times how hesitant his touches was even in the middle of very intimate moments but you're patient. You knew being with him wasn't gonna be easy but you didn't hate him for that, not even a little bit. You never got tired proving Bucky that he could never hurt you and you never will. The love you have for Bucky is unconditional.

" remind me to beat bird brain's ass tomorrow " He replies with a little laugh.

" don't even, he tried to hide it but I spot liars even from a hundred miles away.

—you told me you'd be with Sam's family for Christmas because Steve's with Sharon, again I'm not mad ... why did you lie? did you hate the idea of meeting my family that much James? "

James, he's fucked he thinks; you only ever call him James in serious situations, when your angry or worse—dissapointed.

" No! of course not doll, I-I " He immediately cups your face on his large hands, your cheeks slightly getting squished together that made him chuckle as your glare intensified.

" Sorry doll—It's just I don't want to ruin your family's Christmas incase they don't like the fact you're dating me, no parent would be calm when their child is dating the world's most dangerous assassin " He laughs as your cute face felt irresistible, even if his own words degraded his being but he couldn't control his laugh as all he could see was your cute grumpy face with furrowed brows and cheeks that were still cupped by his large hand.

" ex-assasin, James—we've talked about this and my family would be scared at first but they wouldn't hate you "

" stop calling me James, doll "

" I'm dating you, they're gonna be protective, especially my mom but that's just because I brought home a boy " You ignored his words, taking his hands off the sides of your face. You held both his hands in yours, with a tight grasp and a deep breath you look straight into his steel blue eyes.

" I love you, Bucky "

" and I love you too, you're too good for me " He said with love and sadness lacing his tone. Slightly tilting your head as you make a move to kiss Bucky. Smiling against the feeling of his soft lips with the roughness of his stubble. The two felt the warmth of each other as they explored each other's bodies a bit. You're hands wrapping around his neck while he grabs your waist with his hands.

As the two of you separated for a breather, you looked at each other's eyes full of love.

" doll, not gonna lie, I kinda want that hot chocolate now " you chuckle slightly and pecking his lips once more.

The both of your spent two hours just talking about random things while you sat on the counter and Bucky stands in-between your legs. The two of you holding warm mugs filled with hot chocolate that had little marshmallows floating on the top. Bucky could stay right here forever.

But the two of you find yourselves minutes later on the top of the rooftop of the building his unit was at, laying flat on your backs on the room's roof that was built on the top floor, so that the two of you would be closer to the stars. Your fingers pointed out one of the constellations you knew, the bright lights of the moon and stars reflecting on your eyes because that's where Bucky was looking. You eyed the stars with amazement as Bucky looks at you with eyes filled with adoration. He loves you so much sometimes he questions why you're with a guy like him.

" I suggested we go here so we could look at the stars not so you could look at me, sergeant "

" not my fault you're a much better view doll "

" god you're such a romantic and they don't believe me when I say the great Bucky Barnes actually wrote me a poem once "

" to be fair it was a shit poem "

" it was the effort I liked "

" so you do admit it was a horrible piece of literature " He said chuckling as he moves his body closer to yours, using one of his elbow to support the top half of his body. His other hand immediately holding your hand that wasn't busy feeding yourself cookies.

" I love you "

" I know "

" I love you, doll, I am so in love with you and its scares me sometimes just how much I'm in love with you " he said while chuckling at the end as a big smile was painted on his face. His smile starts to falter seeing you have no reaction and your eyes that didn't meet his.

" I love you too " you whispered almost too quietly

" good, you kinda got me there so—uh so why the sad face? ... shit, was that too sudden? " He questioned, closing his eyes as he ran both hands through his hair

" I know we've only been dating for a year and well a couple months but— "

" no, uh nothings wrong "

" okay doll, that's pleasant to here " he humors making you slightly chuckle

You reached for his hand, locking your fingers with his as your finally look directly at his eyes

" I love you all the time. Every minute of every day and sometimes you pretty much the only reason I wake up in the morning, so I guess this is it, I love you and I don't ever wanna live without you James "

Your confession made Bucky feel like he was in heaven, like all the secrets of the world was bestowed upon him by Jesus. God, you were going to be the death of him and God does it scare him that your now his biggest weakness. He'd do absolutely anything for you, he'd die for you, he'd even kill for you if you asked.

" don't ever have to worry about me disappearing doll " He said with a straight face before immediately catching your lips, both his hands cupping your face gently.

" Merry Christmas, Baby " you said as he parts away his lips from yours while still cradling your face.

" I promise, you'll never have to celebrate Christmas alone, ever "

#bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #bucky #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes christmas #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes falcon and winter soldier #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes ff #sergeant james barnes #the winter solider fanfiction #sleepisaturn #sleepysaturnwrites #bucky barnes angst

[fleurdelouve]

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

Per the ingenious request from an anon, here are Black writers on Tumblr who write for the ship Fleur de Louve (aka SarahBucky) which involves a Black women!

The below information includes their blogs, whether they’re female or male writers, links to their ao3, and how many Fleur de Louve fics they current have posted.

This list is still in progress, so feel free to contact us if you’re Black and would like to be added to this list!

 @rebellconquerer - female - AO3: rebellconquerer

Current number of Fleur de Louve fics: 7 fics

- Has also written for: Katara/Zuko, ATLA, Sam Wilson, Ayo, Queen Ramonda, Shuri, Sam Wilson

⠀

 @palettesofrenaissance - female - AO3: palettesofrenaissance

Current number of Fleur de Louve fics: 11 fics

- Has also written for: Black Panther, Monica Rambeau, Maria Rambeau, Dr. Jason Wilkes, Michelle Jones, Spideychelle, Brunnhilde (Valkyrie from Thor), X-Men, Ava Starr (Ghost from Ant-Man), Gamora, Tyrone Johnson (from Cloak & Dagger), Liz Allan/Cindy Moon, Sam Wilson

⠀

 @btwxsixesandsevens - female - AO3: Sixes_and_Sevens

Current number of Fleur de Louve fics: 26 fics

- Has also written for: Ayo/Aneka, Black Panther, Janna/Rose Tico, Finn (from Star Wars), Jo/Drash, Dragon Age, Misty Knight, Sam Wilson, Star Wars

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 @tllgrrl - female - AO3: NefertiriJones

Current number of Fleur de Louve fics: 48 fics

- Has also written for: Shuri, Okoye, Ayo, Sam Wilson, Misty Knight

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 @duckybarnes1917 - female - AO3: DuckyBarnes1917

Current number of Fleur de Louve fics: alleged wips

- Has also written for: Sam Wilson, Original female character

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@blackstarising - female - AO3: blackstarising

Current number of Fleur de Louve fics: 1 fics

- Has also written for: Sam Wilson, AJ Wilson, Cass Wilson

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@hauntedelation - female - AO3: hauntedelation

Current number of Fleur de Louve fics: 1 fics

- Has also written for: Sam Wilson, Original female characters, Black self insert

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@w00wzerz - female - AO3: WOWJAY

Current number of Fleur de Louve fics: 2 fics

- Has also written for: Starfire/Dick Greyson (Dickkory) (from Titans), All Rise, Lola Carmichael, Lola Carmichael/Mark Callan, Lola Carmichael/Robin Taylor

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@wakandacoconutoil - female - AO3: wakandacoconutoil

Current number of Fleur de Louve fics: 1 fics

- Has also written for: Mel Medarda, Mel/Jayce, Shuri, Black Panther, Arcane: League of Legends

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#happy black history month #support black writers #support black artists #marvel writers #marvel writings #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes ff #sarahbucky #buckysarah #fleur de louve #fleurdelouve #tfatws fanfiction #tfatws fic #mcu fanfiction #mcu fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic writer #sarah wilson #tfatws sarah wilson #marvel woc #mcu woc #bucky barnes x sarah wilson #sarah x bucky #bucky x sarah #sarah/bucky #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #adepero oduye #bucky barnes fluff

[marvelettesassemblenow]

The Riddle

Pairing: Bucky x F Reader 

Summary: [SOULMATE AU] Things you lose start to appear at your soulmates side – most of the time if they’re in need of it. Easy, right? It would be if the existence of Soulmates were still common knowledge. And so you and Bucky can’t figure out who plays this prank on you and why the both of you lose stuff all the time. 

Word Count: ~3.2k 

Warnings: swearing, blood and stabbing of someone (it’s a bad guy), knives and the use of it, kind of matchmaking Avengers 

A/N: I wrote this soulmate prompt once for a HP character, but I really do like it, so I felt the need to give Bucky a soulmate 

The coffee machine was brewing your drink loudly and you turned towards the fridge to get something to eat. Once you decided on something and placed it on the counter, turned around to get your drink – your mug was gone. “Huh?” A glance around the kitchen made you realise that your mug had been stolen from no other than Bucky Barnes. 

“You could have just asked me if I would made you one,” you said. No reaction. “Barnes!” you repeated louder and the man in question finally looked up from his phone. 

“What?” he asked and you almost fell for his confused look. 

“You could have asked for a coffee, you didn’t have to steal mine,” you said and pointed at the mug in front of him. 

“I didn’t steal,” he started but stopped once he saw the ridiculous mug that was yours. He even asked you what it meant once he noticed the mug with the cat that held out their middle fingers and said fluff you, you fluffin fluff. “How?” he asked instead. 

You put a boring mug under the coffee machine and switched the mugs once it was full. “Next time just ask,” you said before you left the room. 

“I’m so sorry! I will bring in my paperwork tomorrow, I had it right there and then,” you started your excuse when you reached the office. 

“Your report has already been handed in,” the accountant said with a bored voice. 

“What do you mean it’s already here?” She tipped the top of a folder to show you it was already there. 

“Mr. Barnes brought it in with his own. He’s a gentleman, right? And handsome too,” she didn’t sound as bored as before and even winked at you. You just nodded and with a last glance on the folder left the office. How did he even get it? You finished writing it and then went to the bathroom. He must have taken it before you came back. It was kind of nice of him – if he had even told you that he would take it and you didn’t have to walk all that way. 

“Thanks for taking my folder too,” you said once you spotted the Winter Soldier with his head in the cupboard. The was a noise and you could have sworn you had startled him and he just hit his head. 

“Yeah, no problem,” he said and let out a sigh. 

“What are you searching for?” you asked and grabbed yourself a water. 

“I could have sworn there had been Oreos stored here.” 

“Yeah, Sam ate them. As always. You have to be quicker than that,” you answered after taking a sip of your cool drink. 

“I noticed,” he grumbled and tried to get his long hair behind his ears, but it always fell forward again. Just to your left laid the scrunchie that Barnes always carried around in the tower. It was pink with unicorns on it and not even Sam teased him about it, because you all had been there when he got it. 

You had been outside, it was a windy day and Tony held a speech that you weren’t listening to. You saw Bucky struggling with his hair as it always flew in his face and once it flew in his open mouth a young girl came forward. She walked up to the barrier and pointed at Bucky. You nudged his side until he noticed and walked towards the girl. The both of them talked shortly and then you saw her handing a bright pink scrunchie – and the once feared Winter Solider putting it in his hair. The glee on the girl's face caused Bucky to smile brightly too and it made you and your friends smile too. 

Just before Bucky accepted his hair tie, he looked confused at his wrist, but you shrugged and walked to another cupboard and took out your hidden package of Oreos before handing them to him too. “You owe me,” you said and left a confused Bucky. 

On your shelf in your bedroom was an empty space which caused your eyebrow to rose as you couldn’t explain why the item wasn’t there. It wasn’t new or anything, you had owed it for a few years. 

The plush tiger was a remembrance of your first visit to a zoo. You were so amazed by the tigers and lions that you got a plushie that used to be your companion for a few years. Afraid that it would break one day it wandered from your bed to your shelf. Until now that is. It didn’t fall down and you didn't take it. Why wasn't it there though? The search took you a while and you were frustrated when you couldn’t find it. You even asked around, but everyone promised they hadn’t taken it. You had to continue with your days, but the lost tiger was still on the back of your mind. 

On your way to the training ground, you stopped when you heard the familiar voices of Bucky and Sam. Whoever thought it was a good idea to send these two on a mission was clearly mental as you could hear their bickering over the grass. 

“Hey guys. How was – What is that, James?” you suddenly stopped your question, your expression saying that you weren’t joking around anymore and Bucky looked more than confused as you were calling him James. 

“What?” he asked confused, but you had already crossed the three steps towards him and opened the duffel bag that was hanging over his shoulder. A small piece of a tiger's tail had found its way out of the bag and you suddenly held the plushie that was missing in your hand. “Why is he with you? Do you think it's funny to just take stuff from other people? I’ve searched for it for days!” 

Bucky looked puzzled at you. “I didn’t take it. It was suddenly there on my bed on the second night,” he defended himself and somehow you believed him. Which only meant one thing. 

“These pranks need to stop, Sam. It isn’t funny anymore!” 

Sam looked as bewildered at you. “Why are you telling me? I didn’t do anything,” he defended himself, but he had been smiling before that so you didn’t believe him.  

“I need to get to training,” you said with your plushie under your arm. “I’m watching you,” you made the motion with your fingers before you walked further to your appointment. A smell invaded your nose, you took a sniff on your tiger and sure it smelled like... Bucky. Did he actually sleep with it? 

“Hey Buck, we want to grab something to eat. You want to come with us?” Steve asked him when you walked past him with Sam and Natasha on your way towards the diner you all liked so much. 

“No, thanks. Can you bring me something though?” Bucky didn’t look up and you could hear the faint noise of a page being turned over. 

“What are you reading that has you so invested?” Sam asked and tried to get a glimpse at the cover of the book that kept Buckys whole attention. 

“Oh, it’s a thriller and I’m almost at the end and we’ll figure out who the murderer is. Although it has been pretty clear from the beginning. Sloppy work. There was a murder in a house with all the relatives there and,” he said and finally looked up. 

“What’s the name of the book? I just read something like that but lost it in the train before I could finish it,” you asked. 

“Why were you even in the train in the first place?” Natasha asked, but you didn’t answer her as Bucky held up the book and you could see the cover. 

“That’s exactly the book I’ve been reading. Where are you? Did they already find the weapon? I bet it was placed under a loose floorboard.” 

“No way! There is a secret passage in the house that not everybody knows off. You can see small hints here and there. The wind that let the tapestry move although the windows were closed?” 

You took a seat next to the man. “No, but they mentioned the floor one too many times. It must have been there,” you said and the two of you started to share your thoughts on the books. You didn’t even notice that the others bid you goodbye and when they came back they found the two of you hunched over the same book while both of you were reading the last pages together. Steve just left the food next to you and you and Bucky thanked him before you continued reading. Steve shared a grin with Sam and they left you alone again. 

“This room is safe,” you exclaimed when Steve closed the door and you had checked behind the shelves. “Which is good, because I’m out of ammo and I lost the only knife I had.” You patted down the pants to see if you didn’t forget something, but no, you were out of weapons. 

Steve and you had been separated from the rest of the group. “Let me see,” Steve started but stopped once he heard a movement. His stopping made you aware of something behind you and then went to throw your elbow behind you, you noticed a weight in your hand that hadn’t been there before. Your instinct told you to grab it harder and it was that that saved your life. Your eyes didn’t know where to focus. On the man now in front of you or the knife in your hand with a red colour dripping from it. 

“Are you okay?” Steve asked and was at your side a few seconds later. “I thought it was safe?” 

“I was,” you said slowly. Steve took the knife carefully from your grip. “This is Bucky’s,” he murmured. He had seen it in his best friend's hands so often he would always recognise it. “When did he give it to you?” 

“I thought so too,” you stammered. 

“And I thought you were out of knives?” He bent down and checked the pulse of the guy on the floor. 

“He didn’t. It just... appeared,” you said still not so sure about what had just happened. The rest of the mission was more of a blur and you were aware that Steve shielded your most of the time until you were safe in the jet. The next thing you knew was that you were sitting in a chair that lacked some kind of comfort and you could hear Steve’s voice in the background. 

“Hey, you okay? Are you hurt?” This time it was Buckys voice that you were hearing and he was squatted down in front of you. 

In response you only held out your hand which was still holding the weapon. You heard some rustling and before he could ask how you’d get it you told him it had just appeared out of nowhere. “I don’t understand it!” 

“Me neither, but we’ll figure it out. You’re in shock, but I need to know if you’re hurt,” his voice soothed you. 

“I think I’m okay,” you mumbled. 

“Okay, that’s good.” Bucky took the knife from your hands and you heard a clang as if he discarded it without a care, before he took the seat next to you. Your hands didn’t know what to do and so he put his hand in yours and your fingers fumbled with the metal in his hand. 

The Whiteboard looked like a mess. The green pencil in your hand just made a bow towards Bucky’s name when he scribbled hat with his blue marker. 

“What hat? Bucky, are you blushing?” you asked confused and put the cap on your pen so it wouldn’t dry out. 

“Your hat turned up with me,” he mumbled. 

“What hat?” you asked even more confused. 

“Your birthday hat. You know the pink one Natasha made you? The cowboy hat with Birthday Princess on it?” You nodded and pressed you lips together so you wouldn’t snicker. “It turned up while I was showering.” 

There was no stopping you now. Your laugh was loud and you were joined by Sam and even Steve who were also in the room trying to solve the riddle that left you sleepless for a few nights since the mission. 

“Did it appear on your head or elsewhere?” Sam asked between laughs and you’ve never seen Buckys head getting more red. 

“Yes, it did appear on my head!” Bucky proclaimed and the arrow he made aggressively towards his name and the squeaking noise made you shut your eyes as if you wouldn’t hear it anymore. 

“Okay, okay. Back to the topic.” You tipped the marker against your lips. “Well, you know how you were searching for your red Henley?” you asked. 

“No way!” Bucky exclaimed and the red left his face slowly. “You’re the thief? I thought it was Sam the whole time!” 

“I’m no thief!” you exclaimed while Sam complained that you always thought he was the one stealing stuff. “It just laid on my bed when I was really cold and I might have kept it because it’s really comfortable. I know why you keep it,” you admitted.  

Suddenly the door opened and Tony came in. “Hey Cap, our time advisor is here,” he announced and you could see Wong standing behind him who waved. 

“Oh, you’re doing a soulmate chart? Looks like fun,” he said and followed Tony who walked towards another conference room. Bucky and you shared a look before you pushed yourself past Steve and run out of the room. 

“A what?” you exclaimed and run up to Wong who stopped walking once he heard your voice. 

“Huh?” he asked confused. 

“What did you say in the room?” you asked again and were aware of Bucky suddenly standing next to you. 

“The soulmate chart?” He asked and the look in both of your faces made him to continue. ”You know the person you’re destined with? Share a deep connection with? Not ringing any bells?” He sighed and opened a small portal and conjured a book out of it. “I will lend it to you, but I need it back!” he held it out of reach until you and Bucky promised to be very careful with the old book. 

“How comes we have never heard about it?” you asked once Bucky had taken the book. 

“People stopped believing in magic, fairy tales and stuff like that. They turned a blind eye and you would be surprised how many things are forgotten now. That doesn’t make them less real,” he sighed and looked at the time. “I hope they have good snacks,” he finally said and followed into the room where Tony had already went in a few minutes ago. 

Bucky cleared his throat. “Well, we better check this out then.” 

Almost three days you spent with Bucky in the conference room. Old mugs and plates were stashed at one side of the table and you and Bucky occupied the other side with one person at the whiteboard scribbling down what the other person told them. 

“Okay, enough!” Sam walked into the room and you and Bucky looked at him in shock. Except for the two of you you hadn’t really talked to the others. “You go shower, you stink. And dress in something other than sweats and a hoodie. You’ll finally have a dinner with us.” 

“I showered this morning,” you protested, but Sam made loud noises so he wouldn’t hear you. 

“Go,” he said again. 

“Fine,” you huffed. “But only because I’m hungry.” 

“You too, Barnes,” Sam said again and you didn’t stay to watch if Bucky followed Sam's order. 

It didn’t take long for you to find your way to the dining room. You were wearing something comfortable, but at least no sweats, so Sam couldn’t complain. You were stunned when you saw Bucky sitting in a fitting black shirt at the table with plates for two, roses and candles on them. He shrugged as if to tell you he didn’t know either. Suddenly two hands grabbed your shoulders and pushed you towards the table. 

“The two of you are missing the point with your whole research. Soulmates aren’t science. It’s a person who you have a deep connection with. And how will the two of you know about that if the only thing you do is stare at a book? You had three days to figure it out your way, now you’ll try mine. You have the room to yourself – but please remember that FRIDAY is everywhere – and Wanda made you dinner, that will be served shortly. Please thank me later because Steve was very persisted to help and wanted to cook, so please thank him for the good choices of drinks. Enjoy your evening,” Sam had pushed you into the chair and left the room. 

“What is happening?” you asked confused. 

“I have no clue!” Bucky and you stared at each other in an uncomfortable silence. 

“Okay, I’ll bite,” you said after a while. “Tell me something that no one else knows.” 

It took a while before he replied. “I don’t like plums.” 

“Huh?” 

He shrugged. “You eat some once and suddenly everyone assumes it’s your favourite thing. And suddenly all you get is plums – jam, pie, even shower gel. I like them fine, but not all the time.” 

“You know that Sam and I were shopping for ages until he found the plum jam, he was so sure you liked so much when he pulled your name for Christmas?” you snorted and Steve walked into the room to bring your drinks and some salad. 

“You cleaned up fine,” you told him. 

“Eyes up here,” Steve said totally serious and pointed at Bucky, which caused you to lose it all and Bucky to start howling in laughter. “Okay, I don’t know why I said that,” Steve finally admitted and laughed also. 

“Why can’t we just all eat together?” you asked and looked at Bucky who nodded. 

“Yeah, Steve this is awkward. Just gather everyone hiding in the kitchen and we eat together.” 

“So, you don’t want to go on a date together?” Steve asked defeated. 

“Oh, I want to. But like on our own terms?” Bucky asked more in your direction. 

“Yup, I could take you out tomorrow,” you smirked at him. 

“Sounds good, doll,” Bucky agreed and Steve seemed more relieved. “So should I tell the others?” Steve asked, but Sam and Wanda stood already in the entry with plates in their hand. 

“Just ourselves, my ass,” you huffed. You shared a glance with Bucky before the others filled the table and the talks started. 

“Want to get out of here? We could get some ice-cream,” you suggested to Bucky when the rest of the team was in the middle of a heated discussion where Sam was almost in Natashas face. 

“Yeah okay, but please no...”  

“...plum,” you ended the sentence for him and accepted his outstretched hand and the two of you left the room quietly. “I know that now. So, maybe plain old vanilla?” you offered instead. 

“Come on, that might be Steve’s favourite flavour, but I’m not that boring.” He looked almost offended, but you saw the twinkle in his eyes. 

“Well see about that,” you teased and followed him outside. 

Just because I can:

Masterlist | Library Blog

divider by @fireflygraphics

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #soulmate au #soulmate fanfiction #soulmates #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes os #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes ff #oneshot #marvel fanfiction #the hat is nika's fault!!! #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #marvelettesassemblenow

[swtki]

Hey all! I’m opening up requests to help me out of a writing slump!

Please send me requests, these are the guidelines I have:

My readers are ALWAYS inclusive 100% in fluff, this means GN, race neutral, and size neutral.

My smuts are inclusive to all Fems, meaning I only use she/her pronouns and afab anatomy, however race, and size are neutral.

I will be creating a rec post for Trans! readers, black! readers, cis male readers, any type of specific reader soon <3

Characters I will write for:

-Loki Laufeyson

-Bucky Barnes

- Steve Rogers

- TASM! Peter Parker

- Spencer Reid

Please do not ask for any other characters or any ships other than x reader.

Things I will write:

-smut (fem dom or vanilla)

-fluff (any and all)

-angst (past trauma, current trauma, breakups and heartbreak)

-dark fics (stalking, perv)

start sending them babes !

#elitalksshit #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker fanfic #peter parker smut #loki x reader #loki fic #loki oneshot #loki laufeyson smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes ff #bucky barnes lemon #bucky barnes smut #sub steve rogers #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #sub spencer reid #mcu songfic #tasm #fanfic #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #avengers fanfix #avengers x fem!reader #avengers loki x reader #the avengers x you #the avengers smut #avengers x reader

[leelee1234love]

Night Hallucinations

Full Masterlist Marvel Masterlist

18+ Minors DNI!!!

Pairing:Mob!Bucky x Little!Reader

Summary: Bucky’s little wakes up alone and has a night hallucination whilst buckys in a meeting

Warnings: ddlg,Night terrors,Night hallucinations,clowns,crying,little space?!!!(Please tell me if I missed any!!!)

You was running from a clown, one of the worst things in the world for you. Your biggest fear was clowns..especially ones with knives which this one had. Which only added fear for you.

You was running and running from it until you reached an end at a brick wall and it grabbed you before your dream ended and you woke up.

You was sweating,crying and shaking. “Daddy?” You muttered out and began panicking when you saw the ruffled clown sleeves from behind the wardrobe door.

You sat there on the bed wide eyed as the ruffled clown sleeves stayed out and didn’t move an inch.

You slowly got off of your bed and ran out the bedroom as quickly as your little legs could run.

You knew your daddy was probably in a meeting so you ran to the door and lightly knocked on it still looking back to see if the clown was there following you and you calmed down when you didn’t see it but went wide-eyed when you saw it was..in the corner of the dark closet room you could see the ruffled sleeves and panicked. And that’s when the meeting room door opened.

“So I think we shou-“ bucky was cut off when a knock came from the door and Bucky knew it was you from the knock you gave, you always used the same knock for a door.

“If anyone speaks, then there will be consequences clear?” He stated coldly and all the men nodded sheepishly.

Bucky opened the door and panicked when he saw how scared you looked.

“Doll? You alright?” He asked you softly and you shook your head profusely.

“I- i clown And- it-“ you couldn’t form sentences from your tears and quickly hid into buckys chest.

“Shh shh, it’s okay.. did you have a nightmare?” He asked you and you nodded and pointed to the dark closet that you saw ruffled sleeves in.

“Mh? What do you mean baby?” He asked you confused as to what you meant.

“C-clown” you stuttered and he understood you since he knew about your sleep hallucinations.

“It’s alright doll, its not real, it’s just a image remember?” He softly reassured you and gave you a light kiss on the forehead.

“I’ve got an important meeting but I can break the rules and you can stay with me eh? How does that sound?” He asked you and you nodded and wrapped your arms around his neck as he picked you up.

“Alright then” he smiled and gave you a kiss on the cheek before entering the room again.

“I don’t want to hear anything unless it’s about this meeting, now..About this shipment-“ bucky carried on but you didn’t listen much about what he was saying just his voice which quickly soothed you and you fell asleep in his arms.

#Bucky barnes x little!reader #daddy Bucky barnes #daddy!bucky barnes x little!reader #daddy!bucky barnes x reader #daddy!bucky barnes #daddy!bucky little!reader #daddy!bucky x reader #daddy!bucky #mafia!bucky x little!reader #mafia!bucky barnes #mafia!bucky #mafia!bucky barnes x reader #mafia!bucky barnes x little!reader #mafia!bucky x reader #Bucky barnes x reader #Bucky x little!reader #Bucky barnes x female reader #Bucky barnes fluff #Bucky barnes imagine #Bucky barnes fic #Bucky barnes x f!reader #Bucky barnes x fluff #Bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky barnes one shot #Bucky barnes angst #Bucky barnes fan fiction #Bucky barnes ff #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic

[purple-babygirl]

don't call me daddy IV

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader

Word count: 5,540

Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails.

Warnings: crying, a flu, coughing, shots, age regression

A/N: forgive me for the lateness with this one. i was very sick, like bed-ridden sick, and when i got a little better i got to writing right away. please be kind to me with this one, i'm still high on meds:" please enjoy xx💜💜

~

“Call me daddy.”

“What?” She was suddenly pulling away as if Bucky was made up of scorching metal.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” He asked with a small smile, wiping any residue tears on his face.

What she wanted… he was only suggesting that she called him daddy because he thought it was what she wanted? Was this his way of returning the favor because she hugged him after a nightmare?

Now she was really hurt.

Bucky was unknowingly emphasizing the fact that he didn’t want this type of relationship, didn’t want her. He was only doing it to show gratitude.

“No.” She shook her head, getting up from the floor.

“No?” Bucky was genuinely confused as he followed her with his eyes.

He thought he was finally making things right, giving her what she wanted.

“I wanna go back.”

“What?!”

“I wanna go back, please take me back.” Her voice wasn’t even sad or frantic, only small and disheartened.

“Back where?! The couch is right there if you wanna go!” Bucky became angry again.

He felt rejected and he felt small. Was it his touch that made her pull back? Was it the daddy thing? Was he so repulsive?

“No, back, out of here.”

“Back where?! It’s the middle of the night!” Bucky raised his voice in frustration, the nightmare nerves barely out of his body.

Has she lost her mind? Why was she acting like this now? What was he supposed to do to please her and her little mind?

“Take me back to Mrs. Morrison,” she insisted calmly as she collected her slippers and stashed them back in her bag.

He looked at her with wide eyes and an open mouth, not getting what happened or where he went wrong.

She wasn’t even tearing up, it was like a switch has flipped inside of her.

“Just— just talk to me, okay? What happened?” Bucky fervently needed her to stop, needed to understand.

“Bucky was right. This isn’t gonna work. Please just take me back.”

Her words reopened Bucky’s wounds that her sweet gestures had once closed. What did she mean “isn’t gonna work”? Was he just deemed irredeemable? Again?

“But why?!”

“I just wanna go back.” Was all she gave him; no explanation and no reasons.

Bucky wouldn’t understand.

“You know what? Fine! I’ll take you back first thing in the morning. Go back to the fucking couch, stay away from me!”

She silently got the wolf stuffie, leaving it on the kitchen counter, and went back, no crying and no trials to correct him on his choice of bad words.

Did she really want to leave? Was she really going to leave him come morning?

~

When it was lit up enough, Bucky went for a run, trying to blow off some steam because he felt like he was about to explode.

Why did he let her in? He shouldn’t have done that. She didn’t deserve to get this close, no one did.

Did he seriously think he was accepted and understood by this stranger after 7 days of time together?

No matter what the purpose she was serving was, she could never understand how hard Bucky had had it.

Still, something kept pulling him to her. Something inside of him didn’t want her to leave him. Not now that he was used to her; that he wanted to be used to her.

It's been only a week and Bucky was ready to give human relationships another chance. She made him feel like healing wasn’t a faraway dream.

He was going to try and talk to her one last time and if she still wanted to leave, he would gladly let her.

When he opened his door, she was dressed and waiting for Bucky on the couch, ready to go.

“So you were serious about leaving?” Bucky asks as he kicks his shoes off.

“Yes. Bucky is gonna take me back, right?”

“If that’s really what you want?”

She didn’t trust her voice so she just nodded.

“Why?”

“Just because.”

“Talk to me like I’m talking to you!” Bucky snapped.

She remained silent this time, not ready for a fight.

“Why do you wanna leave? What did I do?”

“Bucky didn’t do anything.”

“Then what is it?!”

“That is it.”

“What?!”

“Bucky didn’t do anything. Bucky didn’t even look at Doll’s file. Bucky never even called Doll Doll.” Only now did her tears come back, rolling down her cheeks with ease as she spilled out all that she’s been holding inside of her, “Bucky never wanted Doll.”

“I— I didn’t have time to look at the file. We were in a hurry so I picked the first one in the batch!” Bucky tried to explain, but quickly realized what he'd said.

A sob escaped her at the revelation that she was picked at random, that it could’ve been anyone else and that he really never wanted her.

“That’s not what I meant. I— listen, at first maybe I didn’t want you, but it’s different now!”

“Bucky never even picked me?” She cried, her broken voice crushing his heart.

“I—”

“Please take me back.” She wiped at her face, trying to steady her breathing.

“But—”

“Please, Bucky, please.”

The way she begged him with teary eyes and a shaky voice made Bucky stand up despite himself to put his shoes back on to take her back.

He might’ve not gotten a chance to explain himself, but he’s done her enough damage and he wasn’t going to continue being the reason she cried when she has been the reason he stopped.

“Let’s go.” Bucky pursed his lips and opened the door for her, her bag in hand, knowing it will never be the same when he came back.

~

“Doll, now that you’re big at least tell me anything, dear. Did he do anything—”

“He didn’t do anything, Mrs. Morrison. I promise you. Bucky was nothing but a gentleman with me.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing. I just think I wasn’t ready. I shouldn’t have listed my little self as ready.” She shook her head with a polite smile.

Mrs. Morrison wasn’t buying it, but she couldn’t push her anymore.

“Alright, dear. I’ll go finish the report so Bucky’s therapist can get her copy in the morning.”

“Mrs. Morrison, please,” she held the older woman’s hand imploringly, “Bucky didn’t do but good. Make sure you’re just to him in your report.”

“Okay, doll. Whatever you say, dear.” She woman shook her head, giving up the argument before standing up and leaving the room.

It wasn’t the full truth, but she did believe she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t going to be ready for a long time, so it was better if she just went back home and let herself be grounded a little.

~

“Please, I need to see her.” Bucky begged in front of Mrs. Morrison’s desk.

“Not before you tell me what you did to her, Mr. Barnes!”

“I— I didn’t do anything.”

“That’s what she said too, but I know it’s not the truth!”

“Wait, what? I— please let me see her.”

“She’s not here, Sergeant Barnes.”

“What? Where is she?”

“Home,” the woman replied shortly, still mad at Bucky.

“I thought that was where they lived?”

The woman shook her head in disappointment, “you never read your copy of the file, did you?”

Bucky remained silent, too embarrassed to speak. Why did everyone keep asking about the damn file!

“No, they don’t live here. She went back to her life at her house.”

“Well, can you give me the address?”

“Of course, not! That’s private information and you two don’t even seem to have ended on good terms!”

“Please? I need to fix this.”

“You already had time to do that, Mr. Barnes.”

“Well… At least give me a chance to apologize.”

“I don’t know.” The woman hesitated.

“Please, I’ll do anything.” Bucky begged sincerely.

“Anything?” Mrs. Morrison smiled suddenly, making Bucky worry a little, but he meant his words nonetheless.

“Anything.”

~

“Corgi, calm down!” Bucky heard her sweet laugh as she approached the dog’s barks.

“You call your corgi Corgi?” He asked her with a smile.

“Bucky, what are you doing here?” Her smile quickly disappeared and a surprised frown replaced it.

“I—”

“Okay, I finished moving the new planters to the right side like you wanted— hello?” The man who cut Bucky off was offering him a hand.

Bucky shook it coldly, his signature frown staring the man down, “hey.”

“I’m Adam,” the man said with a friendly smile.

“Sergeant James Barnes.”

“Bucky, this is Adam, my best friend and neighbor, Adam, this is Bucky… a friend.” She introduced them, not sure of what to say about Bucky.

Meanwhile, Bucky felt something weigh down on him. Was it the fact that he wished she said more than just “a friend”? Was it the presence of this Adam guy? Was that… jealousy?!

“Right, so I’m gonna go now, but call me if you need anything, okay?” Adam said, looking at them both suspiciously.

“I will. Thank you for today, Adam. You’re the best.” She gave the man a hug, smiling from ear to ear as she did it, too.

That was a smile Bucky has never seen.

“I know I know. Bye, Corgi! Bye, Sergeant, nice to meet you!” Adam shouted as he walked out of her porch.

Bucky only nodded even though he knew the man couldn’t see him. He didn’t care if he was rude. Who was that anyway?

She was expecting Bucky to talk when Adam was gone but he just stood there, fiddling with the bag in his hand as he stared at her, so she didn’t say anything either.

She was done initiating. If he came all the way here on his own, he could start a conversation on his own.

“Who was that?”

“Really? You came all the way here to ask me that?”

He stuttered and swallowed, knowing fully well that he had no right to such a question.

“You seem different.”

“You mean big?” She smiled sadly, noticing how much more comfortable Bucky was dealing with her like that.

Bucky nodded guiltily, scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah, I do have a life and responsibilities after all.” She shrugged, gesturing to her house and the puppy by her feet.

She was disappointed to say the least. First, he gave her a terrible week with him, then he returned her and never looked back and now he was on her porch for no clear reason or explanation, questioning her and her life?

Still, she felt a spark of hope in her chest at the fact that he was standing before her. There must’ve been a reason he came and it couldn’t be so he could fight more.

Bucky felt embarrassed, tongue-tied with guilt as he’s forgotten everything he has been wanting to say.

Then the sky started speaking for him, thundering loudly and making her jump with a hand on her heart.

“Oh, it’s gonna rain. Let’s go inside.”

For some reason, he assumed she was talking to the puppy but when she kept looking at him, Bucky gratefully moved his feet.

~

Her house was the epitome of coziness. It was a true home and it was nothing like Bucky’s.

It had actual furniture, colorful pieces he knew were carefully picked. It had wallpaper and picture frames and kitchenware and cute mugs and plates.

Only now did he know how much shit she could’ve given him for the place he made her stay in, but she didn’t.

“Bucky!”

“Yes?”

“I asked about your favorite tea.” She smiled, motioning to a number of varieties on her shelves.

“A coffee would be fine.”

“I’ll just make you earl grey with me.” She shrugged, ignoring his choice for a coffee at this relatively late hour of the evening.

“Hey!”

“It’s my house, my rules, old man!”

Wow! Big her was kind of feisty and it was making Bucky smile.

“What do you have there?” She asked, looking at the small plastic bag that Bucky’s been carrying in his hand.

“Oh, I- this is for you.” He handed her the bag, cheeks burning as he was still brand new when it came to such gestures.

“Oreos! And wolfie!” She called out happily when she looked inside the bag, “thank you so much!” She squeezed the tips of his fingers, smiling at him like he’d gotten her a rare diamond.

When she let go of his hand to open the package and taste the cookies, Bucky felt fear settle in his chest at the idea of having lost her forever.

He watched her try to hide the hug she was giving the white stuffed wolf before slipping it to her curious dog, “careful, Corgi.”

She didn’t lecture or blame him about his treatment of her, yes, nor did she even bring up the week she stayed at his house, but would she be willing to forgive him? Would she give him another chance?

Instead of screaming at him, she was sitting him down on a comfortable couch that had a soft blanket draped over it and serving him tea and cake. What kind of angel was she?

“If you don’t like it, I’ll make you coffee. But taste it first,” she set the tray with tea cups and a plate with a couple of cake slices on the little wooden coffee table and Bucky knew the smell of this tray was the only thing missing from her living room.

Now it was all perfect. It suited her so well.

“I made lime key cake this morning so you’re in luck. It goes really well with earl grey,” she told him, trying to get him to talk, to tell her why he was at her place a week later at 9 in the evening.

But he only nodded.

She didn’t push him. She has done enough coaxing and enough pushing. She didn’t have to do that anymore. If Bucky wanted to talk, he would have to talk on his own.

But he didn’t.

An hour later, she was getting sleepy and the rain was pouring even harder.

“I— I better go.” He stood up, patting his pockets nervously as if to make sure his belongings were in place.

So he came all the way here for nothing? He found her house and rode on his motorcycle all the way here for nothing?

“No way, you can’t drive your motor cycle in this rain!”

“I’m a super soldier, I don’t get sick,” Bucky argued with a smile, heart swelling at the idea that she still cared for him.

“I don’t care. The roads are slippery. It’s dangerous!”

“But—”

“No buts. You can have my bed, let me show you the room,” she said, never giving him space for a reply as she led the way to her bedroom.

“You really don’t have to. I can take the couch.” Or the floor

“The couch is mine. Corgi cries at night and doesn’t like to sleep alone. He’s still just a puppy.”

“Why don’t you just move his crate to your bedroom?”

“Because there’s a system in this house, Sergeant. We’re disciplined people.” She smiled playfully, “good night.”

And just like that, Bucky was alone in her bedroom, with her bed and sheets and blankets, where all the pillows smelled like her hair shampoo and the air was light and sweet. He was in heaven.

Bucky took his jacket off, draping it over the armchair by her vanity and her perfumes caught his eye.

He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but he couldn’t help himself as he picked up the first bottle and neared it to his nose.

Oh, lord, was this sexy. He imagined himself eating her up if he was to smell this perfume on her skin. It was captivating and it went well with her playful grown up personality.

He tried another bottle and it was a softer scent that he knew all too well. It was the one she wore when she was staying at his house. It smelt angelic, soft and welcoming.

Bucky had to stop himself from going down the line of perfumes because he didn’t think he could keep going.

He’d better go to bed and try to catch a few hours of sleep before the mind attacks started.

Grabbing a pillow that smelled like her, Bucky made himself as comfortable as could be on the wooden floor next to her bed, draping her overly soft blanket on his body.

~

“You call it a disciplined house but you don’t even have a dining table,” Bucky teased as he helped her bring the rest of the plates to the coffee table.

He was right actually. She lied last night. She could easily take Corgi to the bedroom with her, but what kind of hospitality would that be to give Bucky the couch when it was his first time visiting?

“At least my coffee table has space for more than 2 noodle cups,” she teased right back, hardly biting a smile.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her sassiness, smiling like an idiot at how easy she made everything.

Talking was easy around her. Existing was easy around her. Breathing was easy around her. And oh did he miss her.

“So…” she trailed, pouring orange juice in Bucky’s glass.

She couldn’t stay silent anymore. She had to understand why Bucky found her house and came to her after he’d clearly proven he didn’t want her. She wanted and tried to be the bigger person, but if he had something to say, she was ready to hear it now.

“I— I came here to say I’m sorry,” Bucky finally said the words that have been sitting on the back of his tongue for so long.

“Bucky…” she locked her eyes with his for a second, unable to read him, “you didn’t have to come all the way here. I didn’t tell Mrs. Morrison anything.”

The way she reassured him broke his heart. It was as if she wholeheartedly believed that all Bucky cared about was the final report.

But he cared about so much more. He cared about fixing this. He cared about her.

“I know. I did.”

“What?!”

“I told her everything.”

“Bucky— why?”

“I had to make it right.”

“Well, what did she say?” she chewed her lower lip nervously, worried everything has been ruined for Bucky.

“She made me serve a few hours at the institution and only when she got everyone’s approval did she agree to give me your address.”

“Everyone’s approval of what?” she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“Of my storytelling skills,” Bucky replied proudly, putting some cheese on her plate for her when he noticed her freeze.

“Your storytelling— what?!” she couldn’t believe what she was hearing, a huge smile breaking on her face.

“I spent a few nights reading bedtime stories to the residents there and I’ll have you know I did a pretty good job, though most of them wanted lullabies so I stole some of yours—”

“Hold on! You, Bucky Barnes, read bedtime stories and sang lullabies to littles at the institution?”

“Yes, I did.” Bucky nodded with a shrug.

“You did all of this so you could have my address?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I missed you, doll.”

“Doll?” Her eyes instantly teared up at the sole use of the name coming from him.

“And to tell you that I got to meet everyone that was available at the same time you were and none of them could ever compare. They’re all amazing people, but none of them made me feel like you’ve made me feel in that short week,” Bucky admitted softly, eyes hesitant to leave his fingers.

“I was terrible to you and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m sorry. I know now that I should’ve been better.”

“Bucky, it’s okay,” she said with a content smile, simply satisfied with his presence as she passed him the bread. That apology was genuinely enough for her.

“No, doll, it’s not. I— I did the opposite of everything a caregiver should’ve done. It's just… you made me nervous, scared.” Bucky admitted.

“I scared you?” she scoffed in surprise. She wasn’t expecting this one.

“Yes. The way you were fully yourself, the way you weren’t afraid to show it, the way you did the effort to relieve yourself of whatever you were suffering from, it all scared me. How you openly cried when you needed to. It scared me because I didn’t know how to be like you. I didn’t know how to choose trust and kindness again after everything that had happened to me. Your courage scared me.”

“Oh, Bucky.” Tears rolled down her face as she desperately felt the need to hold him and kiss every inch of him better, “why didn’t you talk to me? I would’ve understood.”

“I tried… that day… but talking about it made me wanna close up on myself even more. It made me more scared. It wasn’t easy. It isn’t easy. And I can’t help it,” Bucky’s voice trembled as he fought his own tears.

He couldn’t believe he said those words out loud to someone else.

She left her seat and went to sit next to Bucky on the couch, her hands finding his and holding onto them for dear life.

“But when I came home to an empty living room after dropping you off at the institution, I knew what I'd lost. I realized what an asshole I’ve been to you. And I missed you. I missed you so much when I closed the door and you weren’t on the couch looking at me,” he poured his heart out to her with tears in his eyes.

She squeezed his hand more, trying to hug his fingers with hers but they were too short to fully cover his hands.

“You don’t have to give me another chance, but I felt like I could’ve died if I didn’t tell you how sorry I was and am. I’m sorry I didn’t give myself time to understand you and appreciate you for everything that you were, doll. I’m sorry I was so stupid and let you slip away from my hands. I’m sorry I was undeserving of your kindness and softness and love,” Bucky told her with tears pouring down his face, matching hers as she finally got to listen to all that he had to say.

“I really am sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to be a good daddy to you and I’m sorry I didn’t try to learn. It’s all my fault because you, doll, deserve someone who would bust their ass trying for you,” Bucky sighed, “but if you’d let me, I’ll spend as much time as you’ll allow me doing that.”

“Thank you for finding me.” She threw herself in his arms and Bucky felt his soul come back to him as he held her tight to his body.

“Thank you for welcoming me back in despite everything I’ve put you through. I know I don’t deserve it.” Bucky squeezed her closer, the smell of her hair calming his senses.

“You’re welcome.” She pulled back to wipe his tears away, giving him a smile prettier than anything he’s ever seen, “now let’s eat before the eggs go cold.” She wiped her eyes quickly before grabbing the spoon and putting some eggs on Bucky’s plate.

“Does that smile mean you forgive me, doll?” Bucky asked hopefully.

“I forgive you, Sarge.” She smiled at him, what was in her heart showing in her eyes.

“You won’t regret it,” he promised, putting some food in his mouth to stop any upcoming tears.

They ate silently in peace for a second before Bucky spoke out.

“Seriously though, who was that Adam guy?!”

“Way to ruin a moment, Bucky,” she teased.

But Bucky didn’t smile. He remained silent waiting for her answer with a tiny frown.

“I told you he’s my best friend and he lives next door.”

 Bucky’s frown deepened slightly. So that man got to see her every day huh?

“With his wife,” she added, biting back a smile as she watched his face relax.

“Don’t toy with me like that, doll.”

“I couldn’t help it. This is all new to me and I’m having fun!”

“Does he come here a lot?”

“Yes, Bucky. It’s what friends do, they visit,” she laughed.

“I don’t see Sam that often and we’re fine,” he shrugged unconvincingly, making her laugh more.

“He’s a good man, you’ll come to like him. Plus, he helped me a lot those past weeks and took care of my garden and Corgi while I was away so I owe him.”

“So I’m seeing a farmer now?” Bucky teased.

“Oh look who’s not so quiet anymore!” she teased back with a giggle, “at least my fridge never runs out of tomatoes.”

“Can I ask you something?” Bucky asked, his face serious again.

She nodded in reply, a smile gracing her patient features.

“Why did it bother you so much when I told you to call me daddy?”

She hummed, letting go of her fork.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna answ—”

“It made me feel like you were returning a favor. Doing something because you felt like you had to do it, like it was the right thing to do, but not because you really wanted it. Yes, I wanted to call you daddy with my whole heart, but only if you wanted it too. It hurt because at the time I knew you still hadn’t accepted me for who I was and was just saying that so you could repay me for the hug I was giving you.”

“I’m so sorry.” Bucky shock his head in remorse, “I will never understand how you managed to put up with me for a whole week.”

“It’s because I know what it’s like to feel unwanted, Bucky. I know what it feels like to be unloved and unaccepted, especially by those who should give you unconditional love.”

“Family?” Bucky asked with a sad smile.

She nodded with a similar smile, “I know what it’s like to be more than your pain and anger with others only seeing the snapping and frowning. Little me doesn’t want anyone else to feel unloved like that because she knows how bad it all is. So she gives. She’s patient and she’s kind and sometimes I don’t think I could’ve accessed that part of myself if it wasn’t for her.”

“How so?”

“Grown ups are more cautious because they always have the consequences to things like vulnerability right in front of their eyes. We’re more likely to be afraid to show our hearts because we know we could get hurt bad because of it. Little me isn’t scared of that. She wakes up brand new every day. She wears her heart on her sleeve and trusts her love to do the magic.”

“You’re an amazing person.” Bucky raised her hand to his lips to press a timid kiss without much thought, “I guess I have a lot to learn from you, doll.”

“Don’t say stuff like that!” She whined playfully, cheeks going hot as she turned away shyly, “plus, do you have a death wish?” She raised a playful eyebrow.

“It’s true though— what?”

“I didn’t give you permission to kiss me,” she teased, reminding him of the time she kissed his cheek on her first day at his house.

Bucky smiled sheepishly, whispering out an apology even though he knew she was joking.

She shook her head, still coughing as she ran to the bathroom, needing to find any sort of cold medicine. She knew what this was.

Bucky stopped himself when she started coughing abruptly.

She’s been coughing a little here and there since morning, but he didn’t think anything of it.

Bucky hurried behind her, “what’s wrong?”

In a second, she was bending forward, coughing her heart out.

“Are you okay?!”

She shook her head again, trying to calm down, “I thought it was just a sore throat but it’s getting worse.”

“Let’s get you to the doctor,” Bucky said, worry eating away inside his chest as he watched her cough more.

He quickly grabbed her jacket and keys, leading her out to her car.

~

“It’s because I let you sleep on the couch, isn’t it? You got cold,” Bucky said, running his fingers through his hair nervously as he paced around the room.

He hasn’t stopped blaming himself since they’d returned from the doctor’s. She caught a bad flu and Bucky quickly believed it was his fault.

“No, Bucky. It’s not that.”

“You don’t have to defend me, doll. It’s because of me. I’ve managed to hurt you again. And I don’t even use beds. I should’ve never let you sleep out here.”

“Hey! Calm down please! It’s not you... It was me.” She released a sigh, biting her lip.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when the rain got even worse after you went to bed. I thought I’d come out and cover the motorcycle so that it wouldn’t get all muddy and you’d have a hard time cleaning it,” she explained, fiddling with her fingers.

“That’s still because of me,” Bucky sighed.

“Come on, it’s not like you made me!” Her hoarse voice tried to reassure.

Bucky only ran his fingers through his messy hair again, not knowing what to say or do to make this one right.

“Bucky, please, I’m sick. All I want is for you to stay beside me and not blame yourself.” Her frown was back to her beautiful face and Bucky didn’t like it, “can you do that for me?”

He didn’t like how sick and scratchy her voice sounded either so he wasn’t about to make talk more with a throat like that.

“I’ve already proven I suck at taking care of you, doll,” Bucky chuckled sadly.

“Do you want forgiveness or not?” She joked.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m right here.”

“Is it dangerous for you though? I don’t want you to get it too.”

“I can’t get sick, remember?” Bucky smiled, rubbing her back lightly, “I’m your nurse now.”

“Is that so?” She giggled.

“Yeah.” He nodded confidently.

“You’re definitely not dressed for it,” she teased, giving him her tongue.

“Oh, are you into that kinda thing, doll?” He raised an eyebrow, a playful smile she has never seen before on his pink lips.

“Bucky!” she squealed, hiding her face with the covers, making Bucky laugh.

The sound was heaven to her ears and despite being awfully sick, she couldn’t wish for a better outcome for Bucky’s visit.

“Shit, here it comes again,” she gulped before starting another fit of harsh coughing.

“Bad word,” he whispered to her, making her smile tiredly as she continued coughing.

~

“I don’t wanna go,” she whined as Bucky gently forced her arm inside her jacket.

“We have to. You need your shots to get better.” Bucky covered her head with the hood of her jacket to make sure she was warm before leading her outside.

“But shots hurt,” she whined more with teary eyes.

“I’ll be right there, remember?”

“That’s not gonna do anything!” She whined further.

“Hey!” Bucky pretended to be hurt as he helped her inside the car.

She sighed with a grateful smile, “fine, hugs or I don’t go.”

“Hugs it is.” Bucky smiled back, taking seat next to her before starting the car.

~

“No, no, no, please. I’m not ready, I don’t want it. Give me pills instead, give me pills,” she cried in Bucky’s chest as she saw the doctor get the shot ready.

“Doll, it’s okay, I promise. I got you,” Bucky said, feeling as helpless as ever.

He wished he could get the shots for her, but it wasn’t possible. He could feel something different about her. She looked like she was slipping into her little headspace and it made Bucky nervous, oh so nervous, that he might mess up and not be able to deal with her again.

She barely calmed down enough for Bucky to help her small hands lower her pants just enough for the doctor to have space to push the needle in.

She moaned in pain as she hid her face in Bucky’s chest, crying for real when she felt the strong medicine inside the needle spread inside her.

“It stings. It stings bad,” she sobbed, hands clutching Bucky’s shirt as he covered her behind again and made sure she was properly covered.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We’re going home now, it’s over,” Bucky cooed, rubbing and patting her back with his big hand.

“It hurts, daddy,” she sniveled in his ear and Bucky froze.

Those innocent teary eyes looking up at him like that made him feel a lot of things. But most importantly, they made him feel like he could do this. He could take care of this sweet girl without messing up this time. Her love would show him how.

“I got you, doll. Daddy’s got you.”

~

part V

~

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[lovelybarnes]

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.’

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[amasterpieceofmadness]

there for you – bucky b.

pairings Bucky Barnes x reader

summary You are feeling down lately and Bucky seems to catch up on that. He is worried about you and tries to comfort you. As you find out, all you needed was a big hug (and some kisses) from Bucky

wordcount 2.2k

warnings fluff, little bit of anxiety, crying, hugs and kisses, confessions

--------------

You sigh, trying to shut the annoying high-pitched tone of your alarm clock out by burying your face into the pillow. It feels like you just fell asleep a couple of minutes ago, and in reality, it wasn’t much more, as you already need to get up again. A sigh leaves your mouth once again as you turn around and finally switch off the alarm clock. You are really considering if you should get up but you know Cap is going to hold you a lecture if you miss training one more time. So, finally you get up from your comfy bed and start to get ready with as less effort as needed.

As you walk towards the kitchen to get your cup of coffee before training you zone out. You’ve been distant lately, constantly thinking about stuff that’s worrying you and plaguing your mind. There’s no way to shut it off though, you tried a couple of times already.

So, you walk into the kitchen and greet everyone there with a simple “morning”, before pouring yourself a cup of hot coffee. You don’t bother to talk with someone, you don’t even have the energy to do that right now.

“Everything okay?” your friend Natasha walks up to you concerned.

You simply nod, taking a large sip of coffee. “Yeah, just didn’t sleep well”

Nat doesn’t ask further but she doesn’t believe you either. Neither does the rest of the Avengers, or Bucky. He sits at the table, drinking his own coffee and watching you silently, concern on his face. He noticed your change in behavior and his worry for you is growing stronger by day. He doesn’t want to talk to you in front of all the others so he just lets it be for now.

Steve enters the room “Good morning, ready for our training session?” His eyes land on you and he smiles softly. “Hey, good to see you here again. Let’s get it on!”

Everyone nods and together you walk off to the training room, preparing for an upcoming mission. You try your best to stay focused, and it works rather well. Bucky keeps a close look at you but also keeps his distance. You catch him staring a few times, but try to ignore it, even though your cheeks turn slightly red.

As soon as the training is finished the thoughts come back flooding to your mind. You walk back to your room to get a shower, trying to free your mind. Suddenly you hear a knock at your door. You walk over and open it, setting on a small fake smile.

“Hey” Bucky flashes you a soft smile, leaning against your door frame. He looks you up from top to bottom, noticing your comfy clothes and still wet hair. “Did I disturb you?”

“No, don’t worry. How can I help you?” You ask as casual as possible, crossing your arms in front of your body.

Bucky takes a deep breath, his hands in his pockets. “I just… Actually, I… I just wanted to check in on you. You alright?”

To say you are surprised is an understatement. You never expected him to ask such a question but somehow you feel a strange warmth inside of you at his care. “Uhm, yeah, yeah, I’m alright. Why do you ask?” You let out a soft chuckle.

The super soldier shrugs a little and scratches his head. “You just seem a bit distant lately. So I thought maybe… maybe something is off” He looks so cute like this, standing in front of your door. This is a side of Bucky not many get to see.

“Oh, don’t worry. I just… I didn’t sleep well for a couple of days. But everything’s fine” You smile softly at him to reassure him.

Bucky thinks about your answer for a couple of minutes, not sure whether he should believe you or not. Finally, he decides that there’s no need to push you so he lets it down and nods, looking down. “Alright” he sighs and looks back up at you. “Alright. Just… You know, I’m here if you need anything. Okay?”

As you look at him you can’t help but crack a small, sincere smile. This is definitely something you never expected from anyone, nor him. You can feel warmth spreading inside you and you are almost tempted to ask for a hug. But you quickly shake that thought off of your head. “Thanks, Bucky”

With another smile and wave of his hand Bucky leaves you to yourself again and you close the door of your room. But the smile quickly fades as the thoughts come back to you mind, drowning you. With a sigh you let yourself onto the bed.

A couple of days like this pass and Bucky gets more worried about you. One evening he catches you in the compound living room. He walks inside and notices you standing by the window all in the dark. Bucky doesn’t even bother to turn on the lights.

“Hey” he greets with a calm and soft voice.

You jump slightly, deep in thought, as you turn around surprised to see Bucky standing there, leaning against a counter. “Hey”

“It’s late” Bucky states simply, glancing at the clock and then back at you. It’s almost midnight.

“Yeah, true” my response is just as simple. “What are you doing up?”

Bucky shrugs and gives you a small smirk. “Always been a night owl”

You give him a slight smile in return and glance back out the window, taking a deep breath.

After a few minutes of silence Bucky is the first one to speak up again. “What’s on your mind?”

With raised eyebrows you look at him, but as soon as you see his concerned and serious expression you know there is no way to lie to him. You sigh before finally responding “A lot”

Bucky nods understandingly. If anyone can understand what it’s like to have a heavy mind it’s him after all. And he understands that you might not want to talk about it, or, that you probably don’t even know what you should talk about. So, he doesn’t put too much pressure on you there. “I meant what I said”

Once again you give him a confused look, not knowing what he means right now.

Bucky seems to notice your uncertainty and explains himself further. “What I told you a couple of days ago in your room. That I’m here for your” His look is serious, leaving no hint of joke. He really means it.

And as much as you appreciate this act and as much as you want to thank him and give him a smile, you can’t. All you are trying is to not break in front of him, to hold back the tears that are threatening to fall down your cheeks. You don’t answer him, instead you just look down onto the floor, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You don’t dare to look at him, knowing that it might be too much.

He just stands there, watching your reaction. Bucky decides on what to do and finally speaks up again, his voice ever so soft and caring. “Come here”

You look up to meet Bucky’s eyes, his arms wide open for you to fall into them and let him hug you. For a second you don’t know what you should do. But your feet are bringing you closer to him and finally you stand right in front of him. Slowly you let your arms sink and his loving look is just making it worse for you to contain yourself.

After a minute of just looking at each other you find yourself in his embrace. His arms are tightly wrapped around you, holding you close. Your head resting against his bulky chest, your own arms wrapped around his middle. Tears fall down your cheeks silently, wetting his shirt. But Bucky doesn’t care. All he cares for right now is you in his arms. He doesn’t care whether is shirt is getting damp or not, or if he feels slightly uncomfortable being so close to someone. He wants to be there for you, to give you comfort and reassurance. He wants you to feel better, to know that someone is there for you when you are feeling down. And that is exactly what he is doing right now.

Bucky’s hands are softly stroking your back up and down, his chin resting on your head. He can smell your sweet scent and one of his hands finds its way up to your hair, pressing you closer to him. A strange warmth fills him as he holds you like this.

You on the other hand feel yourself calming down after some time. You feel safe and secure and it seems that a hug is all you needed for the last couple of days. Your body starts to relax in his embrace and your tears have almost stopped. But is it really just the hug that makes you feel at ease again, or is it the person who gives you that hug? His strong arms wrapped tightly around you, holding and caressing you, his soft breathing calming and hearing his heartbeat giving you reassurance.

Bucky had closed his eyes by now, just feeling you in his arms, feeling your muscles starting to relax. And it makes him happy that he is the reason why you calmed down a little. He is proud of himself that he could help you and he is not planning on letting you go anytime soon. He wants to stay like this forever, starting to feel comfortable in this position. He should have done this a lot earlier, when he visited you in your room for example. It would have made you and him feel better.

You two stand there for a while, holding each other close. You pull away slightly, not sure when to let go or if Bucky is still comfortable holding you. Your arms are still around him as you look up at Bucky’s face. He looks down at you too and gives you a soft smile. One of his hands come up to your cheek and his thump wipes the last few tears away from your skin. “Feeling a bit better?”

Finally you give him a small smile back and nod. “A little… Thank you”

Bucky’s smile grows. He can’t help but think about how cute you look right now. “For you, always” How long can he deny the feelings he has for you? How long is he going to pretend that there is nothing between you two?

Your mind is spinning as well, your troubles forgotten for now. All you can think of right now is Bucky. The two of you stand there in the dark living room, holding each other, looking into each other’s eyes without saying a word. The moment is intimate and your heart starts to beat slightly faster.

Bucky is going to take the risk and leans slightly closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours to watch your reaction closely. As you don’t seem to mind him coming closer, he leans in even more, your faces only inches apart. You can feel his hot breath on your face and before you can think twice his lips meet yours. It’s surprisingly soft and sweet, something you would never think of a man like him. But His lips are tender and his movements gentle as if to not scare you away. He pulls away after a moment, his face still close to yours, as he looks at you intensely.

Your lips are slightly parted, your whole body frozen for a moment. Your heart is beating out of your chest and your breath caught in your throat. For a second Bucky is afraid he might have overstepped a line, but when he sees you smiling softly at him he returns it immediately. He leans closer again, wanting to kiss you again but not sure if he should. It’s your turn to close the gap between you and press your lips against his, kissing him with a bit more force than before.

Bucky’s hold on you tightens slightly as he leans into the kiss, trying to take in every second.

When you part again he leans his forehead against yours. The act is so small yet so sweet and you smile up at him. “Wow” is all he can say.

A soft chuckle leaves your lips before you respond “wow indeed”

He returns your chuckle. “I wanted to do that for a long time now”

At his words your heart is starting to beat faster once again, your hands wrapping tighter around him. “Me too” Your voice is barely a whisper but it’s loud enough for him to here.

“And I’ll always be there for you, okay? No matter what…” His words carry a seriousness you’ve never heard before. He means it and you can feel just how much he cares for you. But before you respond Bucky continues “I love you”

“I love you too”

And with that Bucky pecks your lips once again before wrapping you in a tight hug, not planning on letting you go ever again. Not that you mind, of course. You could stay forever in his arms, in this moment.

A/N Here is my complete masterlist with all the ff, imagines, oneshots, smut and whatever. Check it out and leave a like :)

#bucky barnes fluff #marvel imagine #bucky barnes #marvel #fluff #marvel fluff #marvel x reader #bucky barnes ff #bucky x you #sebastian stan #winter soldier #avengers #marvel mcu #mcu #mcu bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fluff #bucky angst #marvel imagines #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fanfiction #the winter soldier #bucky barnes mcu

[aalyssah]

Treehouse

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Smut drabble.

Word Count: 577

Summary: Bucky fucks you against his childhood treehouse.

A/N: Just a short imagine.

His hips snapped against your ass at a fast and hard pace.

What was supposed to be a simple show and tell of a treehouse turned into a show and tell of fucking. You were currently bent over for Bucky as he fucked you from behind while you're holding onto the trunk of a tree.

He was just supposed to tell you about the childhood treehouse that he and his Dad built, but instead dirty thoughts came to him from when he was teenager flooding his mind.

He's always wanted to fuck someone in his treehouse, but hasn't said anything, thinking it was just some stupid teenage wish but when he saw you in your summer dress, he knew he wouldn't last and it wasn't his fault you were looking so damn good!

"Fuck." He groaned as you clenched down on him once more. The wet noises from your pussy were heard if you were quiet enough. As much as you were ashamed of yourself for fucking your boyfriend when meeting his parents for the first time, you couldn't help, but not think of it when his cock entered you.

Whines and moans fell from your mouth as he reached deeper, leaning down to your ear and kissing your neck. "You gonna cum?" He breathed out, panting in your ear, his balls slapping against your clit as his speed increased.

This was just supposed to be a little quickie to relieve stress, but you've both been at it for like 20 minutes. "P-pl-lease." You couldn't even form a sentence because of the way he was fucking you. "You wanna cum, yeah?" His hand reached down to your clit and slowly rubbed it.

"Come on, beg me, doll." You didn't hear him because all you could hear was your moans and skin clapping. He slapped your clit making a wet slap noise known. "Ah!" You jerked back, making his cock hit your g-spot.

He covered your mouth with his hand before biting down on your ear making you release a muffled scream. "Answer me, or I'll stop right now!" That was the last thing you wanted him to do. "Y-yes please. L-let me c-cum!" He hummed in satisfaction.

The head of his cock rammed your g-spot furiously, not giving you anytime to finish a moan. He then leaned down to your ear again and whispered, “Come on, come undone for me." Your stomach tightened and you couldn't hold it anymore. "Shit, I’m gonna cum!” You squealed out.

The tightness finally snapped as white appeared in your vision. You could feel yourself shaking as Bucky held you tightly, making sure you didn't fall. "That's it cum on my cock like the good girl you are." He grunted and thrusted one last time before releasing.

His cum shot deep inside you as Bucky let out a groan of his own. "Damn, doll." He slowly thrusted, making sure it didn't come out. He's always had a thought of impregnating you at his parents house, but that's for another time.

"You did so good for me." He praised, kissing your forehead before bending down and pulling your panties up and tucking himself back in his pants. "Let's go up and see that treehouse." He helped you put your dress back to normal and headed inside the treehouse.

Let's just say after yalls actually 'checked out the treehouse' family members wondered why it took y'all so long and you could only stand there blushing.

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[pinkiebieberpie]

mornings｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

(single dad!mechanic!bucky barnes x teacher!f!reader)

i knew i had to write this when @buckycuddlebuddy said these two (1) (2) are from the same au... hope you like it! as always i'm not much of a writer. feedback and reblogs are appreciated ♡ and thank you elif for putting this in my head, i hope it's not that bad

words: 2k

warnings: mention of divorce, age gap (bucky is in his late 30s, reader is in her late 20s), hand kink, pet names (sweetheart, baby, honey), kissing, flirting, dirty talk, fingering, eating out, implied p in v sex - let me know if i've missed something ♡

y/n can admit that she likes her job, she really likes her job. she wanted to work with kids since she was very young herself. there was something about being responsible for a new generation, something about being able to influence young souls and brains, teach them what's right, what's wrong and what's truly important in life.

there was also other part that she liked, or should i say loved about her job. james bucky barnes. he was one of her students' father. his daughter was very smart and she was as charming as her dad. y/n knew that he was always flirting with her, or at least when he had a chance to do that.

james had a big crush on her. he was a single father, his daughter was 6 and his ex-wife left them when little cassie was not even 2 years old. he was alone for quite a while now, but if i'm being honest it's not easy being a full time father, having your own car workshop and dating.

one thing about bucky is that he loved mornings. he 100% was a morning person. they were peaceful for him. he wakes up before cassie, makes a cup of coffee for himself and breakfast for both of them. for bucky mornings are slow, it's time when he can relax, read some news, help his baby girl get ready for school. he loves being a father and he is a pretty good one, too. even when cassie was in kindergarten everyone was impressed by how organized bucky is and how much he cares about every detail. cassie was always wearing clean and perfectly ironed dresses, her hair was in two, immaculately parted and made ponytails.

he loved mornings for one more reason - his daughter's teacher. he saw her almost everyday. today was one of those days. the weather was beautiful, it was a sunny morning, cassie was happy and was singing in the car all the way to school.

"miss y/l/n!" she said loudly, almost screamed and waved to y/n.

"hi, sweetie, how are you today?" y/n asked with a wide smile on her face. in that moment bucky felt like he is in heaven.

"i'm good, daddy made me pancakes for breakfast!" cassie looked like she would explode, she was that excited about pancakes.

"that's very nice, cassie" y/n said, laughed a little and looked at bucky "good morning mr. barnes, she's so happy about those pancakes, that makes me believe they are magical or something"

"just made with love" bucky responded, he was a little bit nervous around y/n and that made him feel like a teenager in love.

"well, that's the best and most important ingredient" y/n said and looked in his eyes, they were like oceans, but they were also smiling to her, she felt like she could talk with bucky for hours, just to listen to his voice and look him in the eyes.

unfortunately she couldn't because cassie and her had to go for their classes. little girl held y/n's hand and they both went inside the classroom, the last thing y/n said to bucky that day was "it was nice seeing you again mr. barnes" and that one sentence was with bucky for the rest of the day, because it was more than nice to him seeing her.

next few days were normal, to all three of them. cassie was cheerful as always, bucky was trying his best to be an amazing father and y/n was satisfied with her job and kids' achievements. bucky saw her four times this whole week. somedays he was way more flirty than others. complementing y/n's outfits, her smile, her hair. once he made her breakfast, but cassie was the one that shared it with y/n. bucky was still happy about it - now y/n knew that his cooking was good. and pancakes were only a drop in the ocean of what he was able to do in the kitchen. he was an excelent chef.

next monday bucky was surprised that y/n wasn't at school when he dropped cassie off. he wanted to ask other teacher what happened but he had no time to do that. he had to go to work. today was a busy day for him, he had a few cars to take care of and repair them.

when he arrived to his car workshop he thought his heart would erupt, because what would y/n do here? did she know he worked here? she probably knew that he was a mechanic, there was a chance that cassie mentioned it at school, but there was no way, she knew that he worked here, right?

"um, miss y/l/n?" he asked when he walked out of his car "hi, what are you doing here?"

"mr. barnes! hi, oh my god, you work here?" what a coincidence - was her first thought.

"i do, i'm also the owner" he nodded his head "you need anything? something wrong with your car?"

"yeah, there is this weird noise when i'm driving, i'm afraid it may be something serious "

"we will see" bucky winked at her, he was more confident now, it was his place, he knew what he was doing, he felt like a fish in the sea and he really wanted to help her.

"thank you, mr. barnes-"

"you can call me james or bucky, please" he interrupted her and licked his lips, afraid she may think it's not a right thing to do, he was still one of her students' parent.

"oh, okay, james" when she said his name it sounded like the most beautiful song he has ever heard "you can call me, y/n"

bucky winked at her again and after that he went straight to finding out what happened to her car. she was looking at him, for the first time ever she actually had a chance to look at him for a little bit longer and definitely more intently. he was attractive, there was also something very, very sexy about him working. y/n couldn't focus on anything else but his hands. seeing all the different tools in his hands makes y/n's brain imagine a lot of scenarios. with him and her. she was staring. and he knew that, but it was hard not to stare. his hands were big and veiny, now a little bit dirty too. that was also making her moan in her head. she was daydreaming about james touching her, everywhere. she wanted to have his hands all over her body.

"this is nothing very dangerous, i can fix it in like an hour" bucky snatched her away from her fantasies.

"good" she hummed still looking at his hands, bucky smirked.

"you are staring, you like what you see, sweetheart?"

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't-"

"that's more than okay, y/n" he said it in the middle of her sentence "i like your eyes on me, not gonna lie, i can feel them, they are like electricity. looking at something specific? my hands maybe?"

"i'm not, i'm-" y/n started trembling.

"that's fine, baby, you can have much more of them if you want, all you have to do is ask"

y/n was shocked. cassie's dad was always adorable, in her head he was more than a gentleman, but now? was he offering something? something she wanted? something she shouldn't do?

"what do you mean?" she asked still looking at him.

"i can touch you. i can touch your body, everywhere you want, just say it"

"i- can't, this is not right, james, i'm sorry... maybe i'll leave my car here and come back later?" her heart was pounding so fast, she was nervous "you probably have a lot of work"

"i don't, it's only your car here, i have a lot of time and i'd love to spend it with you" that was a lie, but he didn't care right now, he was closer to her, y/n was afraid he may hear her heartbeat "we can stay right here or maybe go to my office, have a little bit more privacy" bucky fixed her hair and brushed it back behind her ear. his touch was gentle, but his skin was rough.

she knew, they shouldn't do it, but bucky was like a drug and the only thing he did so far was barely touching her cheek and ear. y/n was the one who kissed him first. he kissed her back immediately. bucky's lips were soft and he was really good kisser. shortly after y/n kissing him, he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to him. she gasped in his lips and he chuckled.

"i barely even touched you and you are already melting, baby, i can't imagine what is going to happen to you when you'd feel my fingers on your bare skin"

y/n wanted, or should i say needed his hands on her skin. not only skin, she needed his fingers deep inside her.

"please, i need more" she whined and looked him in the eyes.

"what do you need? my fingers on your skin? touching and squeezing your breasts? maybe touching your wet, needy pussy?"

"fuck, yes- please, james-" her moaning his name made him weak, almost as much as his words made y/n. she had no idea what has happened to her, but she wanted this more than anything. she wanted him. this attractive, confident man and his fingers. right fuckin now.

they were in his office a few moments later, kissing each other with passion and desire. bucky grabbed y/n's butt and seated her on his desk. nobody gave a fuck about all the different bills and contracts that now were on the floor. he started kissing her neck, she moaned louder than she wanted to, but, fuck, that was so hot and it felt so good. she wanted more. and he wanted to give it to her. james was on his knees in a matter of seconds. he unbuttoned her jeans, looking in her eyes while taking them off. y/n's breath quickened.

"i know you want my fingers, baby, but i have to taste you" he said and moaned when he saw how soaked her underwear was. bucky slowly took them off y/n's body and spread her legs.

his lips felt like a dream. she was floating and it was all because of james. his tongue was skilled and he was doing things to her that nobody ever did. when his fingers joined his lips y/n was sure she would cum in just a few seconds.

"this feels so nice-" she moaned again, closed her eyes and also started moving her hips, y/n wanted more "fuck, james, just like that, right here"

his fingers were touching all the right spots. this and him sucking on her clit was almost too much. y/n's orgasm hit her like a truck and he screamed his name, put her fingers im his hair and pulled them, maybe a little bit too hard. bucky hissed, but was still kissing and sucking on her now swollen and sensitive pussy.

"shit, honey, you were so sweet and good to me" bucky said when he was back on his feet. he kissed her lips so she could taste herself. y/n moaned a little "how about you would rest here, i'll bring you water in a moment, later i'd go work on your car and when it's fixed we can do a little bit more than that? i need to feel you on my dick"

and that's exactly what they did.

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