#fluffy bucky barnes fanfiction

[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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[sparklefics]

Losing you

Bucky & avenger!reader

WC: 1,185

Summary: a near death experience puts things in perspective.

Warnings: near death experience (not detailed tho), mentions of injury and blood. Language!

I wrote a thing!! It’s been months since I’ve been inspired/ had time to write. Here’s a little angsty fluff.

Gif not mine.

[Masterlist]

Since you joined the team you’ve gotten along with everyone. Missions are successful at least 90 percent of the time.

For the last nine months you’ve been partnering up with Bucky. He’s damn good at his job and you get along just fine, at least when you’re on the field.

Off the field is an entirely different story.

It’s not so much that you don’t get along, it’s just you don’t hang out outside of work. The only time you ‘hang out’ is during training.

You wouldn’t consider him a friend— at least not like Sam is. Bucky is merely your teammate, your partner.

Normally Bucky is cool, calm and collected until the day you get hurt in the field.

“Star, come in.” Bucky speaks through the comms but is only met with silence so he tries again. “Agent Star, come in!”

Star is the code name Sam gave you when you joined his crusade as Captain America. He liked to joke around about his Stars and Stripes and the Sentinel of Liberty, respectively you, Joaquin and Bucky.

Bucky turns back to the last checkpoint and his body goes rigid as he takes in the scene before him. There you are laying on a puddle of blood—yours, he realizes.

He doesn’t take the time to over analyze what went down, all he cares about right now is getting you to safety.

—————

It’s scary to put so much on someone. To let them be your everything, he hadn’t realized that was what had happened. To him you were just his partner.

Until he almost lost you.

That’s when he realized what’s really at stake here. Not only your life, but his happiness.

—————

Three days, that’s how long it takes for you to wake up.

“Ow. That hurt.” You groan and hear Sam chuckle, when you bat your eyes open you see Bucky storming out of the room.

“That’s not funny, Star.” Sam says. “You scared us. How come you didn’t call for backup?”

“How long was I out?”

“Three days. And yes, he was here the whole time, barely got him to eat and shower.”

“Where’s Stripes?” You deflect and ask about Joaquin.

“Coffee run.” Sam stares towards the doorway and sighs. “Buck was the one that found you.”

“Hmm. I think he might be mad at me— you know for almost dying.”

“He’s entitled to that, you’re his partner after all.”

—————

Bucky never comes back to the med bay. In fact you don’t see him for weeks, until you’ve been given the all clear to go back out on the field.

You approach him silently at the gym while he’s pummeling a punching bag. Three bags already discarded after he ripped them open.

“Hey Liberty!”

“Don’t call me that. You know I fucking hate it.”

“Are you still mad at me?”

“Who said I was?” He turns around and you’re not ready for that tender look he gives you. A mixture of guilt that you almost died on his watch and something else you can’t pinpoint and it almost makes you think that he might actually care.

As scary as it was, almost dying put so much in perspective for you. First thing’s first, before you passed out on the field your very last thought was Bucky’s smile. That was strange…yes, he’s your partner but you were about to die and your last thought was of him not begging for help just one last smile of Bucky’s.

Secondly, it felt so off and hurtful seeing him walk out as soon as you woke up. You didn’t know why it hurt but the fact that it did meant that you wanted him there when you woke up. Or at least you expected him to be there, he is your partner after all.

You almost lost everything.

You almost lost him.

It’s infuriating how he managed to become something more than just your partner without you even realizing it. Though all your anger dissipates with the look he gives you. None of it matters when he’s looking at you and touching you so delicately.

Bucky traces a finger ever so delicately over the still fading bruise on your cheek bone.

You hadn’t realized he’d been standing so close to you. Or why the disheveled look he’s got going on looks so good on him. Has he ever looked better? Yes, but today he looks kinda hot and vulnerable, in a way that you just wanna comfort him, run your hands through his hair, cuddle the shit out of him.

Out of nowhere you grab his face and kiss him— on the lips!

“You can’t blame me for that. I almost died.”

You murmured against his lips. And to your surprise he doesn’t pull back, instead he deepens the kiss.

“Shut up, I'm still mad at you.” He mumbles against your lips.

“Ha!” You pull back just enough to slap a hand on his chest. “I knew it! You are mad at me!”

Bucky pulls you right back to his arms and rests his forehead on yours. “I’m just…I can’t lose anyone else. Do you understand?”

You nod.

“I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at myself. You got hurt out there, I should’ve—”

You pull back to look him in the eyes, “James Buchanan Barnes it is not your fault I got hurt. I should’ve called for backup, it’s not your responsibility to keep me safe.”

“Yes it is. You’re my partner.”

“You say that like it means something else. What are you really trying to say, Sarge?”

As if the kiss you two shared hadn’t made it clear this certainly would.

“Star, you are everything to me.”

And your anger makes an appearance again, you pull away from him. “I’m finding that a little hard to believe, cause since I woke up all you’ve done is avoid me.”

“I’m just— seeing you there in a puddle of blood it fucked me up.”

“Waking up and seeing my partner walking out on me fucked me up. You were the last thing on my mind before I passed out. I was trying to call for— I was going to call for you when I blacked out. Then I wake up and see you walk out the door and never come back.”

This isn’t how Bucky pictured this moment. It should’ve gone like in the movies. You both admit your feelings, kiss and voila: happy ending. Not you angry at him, with unshed tears in your eyes.

“I’m sorry I’m an idiot that can’t handle his own feelings. But I love you. I need you to know that. I love you.” He squeezes your hands.

“That’s the thing Bubba, I love you too. So don’t you dare walk out on me ever again.”

You pull him in for a hug and you climb on him like a koala, arms around his shoulders and legs around his torso. He tells you he loves you again and assures you that he���s not going anywhere without you. “Well then, take me to my room. You owe me three weeks worth of cuddles.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #fluffy angst #angsty #angsty fluff

[gummydummy19]

Sometimes I just crave slow, soft, gentle… nothing extra, nothing special, no spanking, no choking, no slapping or teasing, no games…

Just you and me...

Soft kisses and loving smile’s….sweet words while we just feel each other…

Your hands gently touching everywhere they can reach…fingertips tracing goosebumps up my skin…you whispering my name as I whisper yours…

I love you so much…

#soft #soft smutty thought #fluffy smut #soft gentle fluffy smut #gummydummy19 #fanfiction #fluff #smut #smutty thoughts #bucky barnes #steve rogers #henry cavill #august walker #walter marshall #marvel #cod #ghost riley #simon riley #john price #ransom drysdale

[povlvr]

Make Me Forget | ❤️Valentine’s Day One Shot

Pairing: Beefy Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 6k

Summary: Unceremoniously dumped by your scumbag boyfriend Bucky's mission is to spend Valentine's Day cheering you up & showing you what it would belike to be Bucky Barnes's girl, maybe he's shooting his shot, maybe he's just that darn charming Warnings: Angst (just the start), Fluffy Bucky, Swearing, Smut, NSFW, P in V, Oral (Female), unprotected sex, Dom Bucky

A/N: Happy Valentine's, enjoy this one shot with Beefy Bucky, I thought this would be a nice intermission for the Valentine's Season. Also FYI, no STD's or unplanned pregnancies (unless a plot) in my multiverse so no condoms are ever used. As per usual I cannot keep my word count concise!!

Dumped, discarded, cast aside, kicked to the curb, whatever you wanted to call it, you were it & you were sat in a restaurant trying to hold it together whilst the humiliation of being brought into a public space to be told you’re not good enough, not special enough, not pretty enough, not her was being laid out in black & white. You could feel your lip wobbling, the familiar sob climbing up your throat trying to escape as you begged yourself to cut off all emotions until you could get back home.

You nodded along hoping he would stop the character assassination that was effortlessly rattling off, like he had been practicing it for weeks in the mirror. You thought you had been happy together & that he was getting ready to ask you to move in with him, but you were told you were dumb to not see how miserable you made him. There was only so much you could take & when he mentioned her, his 22-year-old secretary he had been sleeping with for weeks, who just ‘got him’, you stood up, tossed your drink over his head & walked out.

The cab ride home was a battle of wills between your absolute need to keep it together at all times versus your impending emotional outburst with the growing realisation that you were destined to die alone & get eaten by the 15 cats you would inevitably accumulate being single for the rest of your life.

The rest of your night was spent isolated, crying, eating pizza, drinking wine & browsing cat rescue sites trying to find the first step towards the rest of your life, you couldn’t believe you wasted a year of your life with a scumbag who would dump you the day before Valentine’s day.

You should have phoned in sick, there was no way you were in the mood to face anyone, even if Tony would have wrongly assumed it was because it was Valentine’s Day & you would be too busy fucking your boyfriend all day to work, except the reality would be you crying, burning your Ex-Boyfriends belongings & self-reflecting to assess what was actually wrong with you & why couldn’t you keep a man interested.

Instead, you were numb, sat zoned out in the meeting room by your boss’ side trying to look like you were paying attention, you were barely holding it together avoiding all eye contact with the team filled with spies & assassins, at least two of them would be able to spot the obvious tells that not all was well.

‘Alright, any other business.’

Sam repeatedly elbowing Bucky who ignored him completely perked up, ‘Yeah, these monthly meetings suck, it’s Valentine’s day, why we even working?’

‘Make sure you note down that sass from Bird Man, Short Stack.’

Apart from Tony’s very annoying nickname, you hadn’t heard what had been said, hoping that it was never brought up again you scribbled down ‘I want to go home’ so it looked as though you were at least doing something.

Bucky had already noticed the sullen expression the second he laid eyes on you, the heavier than usual makeup & overall lack of spunk you usually have was a dead giveaway. Sam may have told him not to use that phrase anymore, for reasons still unclear to him but that was the best way to describe it, it was like your light had gone out.

Usually when Tony used that moniker you’d be ready with a jibe to throw straight back at him, he may have been your boss, but you weren’t ever afraid to put the billionaire in his place, so you completely passing over the nickname meant you were somewhere else in your head & not ok, something was wrong & he needed to get to the bottom of it.

You held back in the meeting room until all the superheroes had piled out to try & avoid any interactions, unfortunately a certain burly super soldier didn’t quite get the memo & was waiting for you outside. The brunette’s face completely serious, brows furrowed & arms crossed as he examined you walking towards him, ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing’s wrong Bucky, I’m fine.’ You tried a half assed smile; a smile you wouldn’t even be able to convince Ethel your blind neighbour was real let alone the trained assassin in front of you.

‘Don’t you dare lie to me Petal, you may be able to fool them but not me. Now tell me what happened, I won’t ask again, did something happen at dinner last night?’

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like when Bucky used his serious voice, when the Sargent in him came out, you always followed his orders.

Breathing out a shaky sigh you looked around, as if anyone cared enough to listen in on what you were about to say, damn your bottom lip for wobbling & the tears gathering in your eyes, traitor. ‘He broke up with me, said he was sleeping with his secretary & I wasn’t pretty or good enough for him.’

Somehow Bucky managed to quell the internal rage that was flowing through the synaptic’s in his brain, the plates in his arm were begging to be recalibrated from the tension running through his body, don’t trigger a reset, don’t trigger a reset. He could taste the impending murder on his tongue but that had to wait, he needed to be the mechanical shoulder for you to cry on right now.

He grabbed you, enclosing you entirely in his arms, his overwhelming warmth thawing your cold exterior & his big arms squeezing you tightly, it was the exact comfort you needed. ‘Oh darlin’, why didn’t you call me?’

Smushed against his solid chest your voice was muffled, ‘Didn’t want to bother ya.’

‘You know you wouldn’t have.’

You managed a shrug against him, ‘It’s Valentine’s you might have had plans.’

He moved his vibranium arm from around you, holding your face with his cool metallic hand to make sure you were looking at him, brushing the few fallen tears from your cheeks, ‘There are no plans too important to stop me coming & getting you.’

You managed a genuine half smile, the cloud over you not quite lifting, but it was now surrounded by a little Bucky Barnes shaped rainbow & you appreciated it more than you could ever convey to him.

Bucky sat pensively in the lounge, despite his protests that you should take the day off, he walked you to your office at your insistence that working would help keep your mind of him, he secretly enjoyed the way you now said him, it was very much in the same tone he had been using for the last year.

So, he had been sitting since racking his brains, trying to think of ways to help you, to build you back up & forget about that loser & in the Super Soldier’s mind he was the biggest most idiotic loser on the face of the planet to let you go so willingly. Chump.

Tony strolled into the common area noticing the absolute anguish on the centurion’s face staring into space, ‘What’s up terminator?’

He rubbed his face trying to reset his mind & entertain a conversation with Tony, ‘Nothing, just thinking.’

‘Wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with my diminutive 2nd in command who has been on 4 separate trips to the bathroom to cry this morning … so far.’ He stood crossing his arms, hoping to get to the bottom of it & thought Bucky would be the one you opened up to, because the pathetic excuse you gave him for being so sniffly wasn’t cutting it & you usually had the 6ft Super Solider shadow following you everywhere.

He clenched his jaw at the belittling nickname Tony seemed to revel in, ‘Stop calling her little, she doesn’t like it.’

He narrowed his eyes, ‘Bit touchy when it comes to her, aren’t you? You like her?’

Bucky shook his head angry that he was poking his nose in where it didn’t belong, ‘Not the time Tony.’

‘Why not?’

‘Not your business.’

‘Let’s see, protective bodyguard mode has been activated, weepy crying employee on Valentine’s Day, I take it that snake she was wasting her time with has shown his true colours?’

Bucky let out an audible sigh, ‘Something like that.’

‘What a dick.’ He clenched his jaw, already ordering you some flowers on his phone, a smirk crossed his face & he glanced back up at the sulking Super Soldier. ‘Hey, now she’s single, you should shoot your shot.’

To Bucky the billionaire just casually let out, like it was nothing, an afterthought, like it was completely normal to pounce on someone 12 hours after being blindsided by a breakup. ‘Absolutely not, she needs comfort & cheering up, not a 107-year-old hitting on her.’

In Tony’s mind, the stars were finally aligning for two people who anyone could see looked at each other with love hearts in their eyes most of the time to finally get together, they just needed a push. ‘Trust me when I say she wouldn’t mind a certain 107-year old’s attention.’

‘Steve?’

‘Jesus I’m surrounded by idiots, not Steve, you, you complete putz’

The super solider was trying to stifle his smile at the thought of you being into him but failing miserably, shaking his head in protest, ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Well, I so happen to know so. I’m not saying declare your undying love for her & propose, just shoot your shot, take her mind off the breakup & whatever he did, make her see that you’re the one she should be with.’

Just like that, like it was a piece of cake, easy as 1,2,3, he swore sometimes he was secretly dumb & not a so-called genius everyone said he was, it took Bucky 3 months to say hello to you when he first met you, so by his calculations he would be asking you out in 2054.

‘He cheated for weeks with his secretary & said she wasn’t pretty enough or good enough for him.’ The words pained him to say out loud, he couldn’t imagine how hurtful they were for you to hear.

The billionaire’s eyes went wide, ‘Excuse me, how are you not murdering him right now?’

‘Oh, trust me a plan is percolating, but I wanted to make sure she was ok before I spend the rest of my life in prison for repeatedly throwing him off the empire state building.’

‘Oh, I like the sound of repeatedly. Ok, new plan, you spend the day tending to her, sweep her off her feet, get her out of her office … but not into your bed & I’ll pay him a visit, can’t promise murder but I’m sure I have a few gadgets that will put the fear of Thor in him.’

You were sat sulking in your office, not really working, just staring at words on a screen, you didn’t want to be at work, but you didn’t want to be at home either, despite the bonfire you had planned in your head with his expensive suits he kept in your walk in, which admittedly did sound like fun.

A gentle knock & a wiggle of the handle told you it was Bucky waiting outside your office, you buzzed him in & as the door opened all you could see were flowers, a huge bunch that somehow eclipsed the Super Solider stood in the doorway holding them.

It was comical watching him struggle, trying his best not to knock any of the perfect blooms on his way in, you wondered how he could be so agile on the battlefield when he was such a clutz off it at times, adorable really when you thought about it.

‘How can I help you soldier?’

He used to hate people referring to him by his military positions but whenever you did it there was something in him that went feral, it felt like you were submitting to him & you were always such a good girl when he told you to do something in his lower pitched voice.

The twitch in his pants at the thought of what that would translate to in the bedroom needed taming before he embarrassed himself, it might not be the 40s anymore but by god if punching a colleague for humming too loudly got him a meeting in HR, getting a boner in front of one in a professional setting definitely would.

‘Well, it’s Valentine’s Day & I wanted to buy you some flowers & put a smile on your face.’

‘Mission success Sargent.’ You really did have a wide smile on your face from the sweet gesture, he was such a good guy, sometimes you wish everyone could see it but a little part of you were happy it seemed to be reserved for only you.

‘Oh this, this is just the start, my Girl on Valentine’s Day doesn’t just get flowers, she gets the whole day.’

You raised your brows, trying your absolute best to not grin like the Cheshire Cat at him calling you his girl, ‘A whole day huh? Lucky me. Not to throw a spanner in the works here but ya girl gotta work.’

‘No you don’t, cleared it with Tony so you’ve got the rest of the day off.’ He looked so happy with himself & you really didn’t understand why the hunk of a man in front of you had a reputation for being frightening, the man was a big teddy bear.

It had been an interesting journey to say the least, experiencing Bucky’s vintage car with the top down sounded so much fun, especially when he pulled you close & had his arm around you but the way your hair lashed about in the wind made you realise why the women in the old movies always had head scarves on. At one-point Bucky’s eyes were streaming when a particular gust of wind whipped him in the eye with a chunk of your hair, no number of apologies you gave seemed enough & thankfully he just seemed to find it funny.

Once you tamed the bird’s nest sat on top of your head you stood in excitement looking on the fairground that had been at the heart of so many of Steve & Bucky’s stories, Coney Island where dreams where not quite made of but that didn’t matter, you loved it.

‘It doesn’t exactly look the same but I’m sure we’ll find our way around just fine.’ Bucky was practically giddy, pulling your connected hand towards the entrance, ‘you know me & Steve once rode the Ferris wheel with these two dames, Sandy & Delores I think their names were, & Steve freaked out because it was so high up & threw up on his date.’

You always noticed his accent thickened when he talked about his youth, seeing him like this made you wish you had known him back then, but having heard many stories about Bucky from Steve, he would probably have been chasing tail rather than wasting his time hanging about with you

He led you to a food shack that, according to the sign, served New York’s best hot dogs, ‘whaddya say Doll, one hotdog or two?’

‘One please, with onions & mustard.’

‘Coming up, what my girl wants, my girl gets.’

You sat on the bench whilst he waited for your order, the day certainly had taken a turn & you were beyond grateful for Bucky, he really was the sweetest guy you knew so it didn’t even shock you with how extra he was being in an effort to take your mind off things.

You realised as he approached, carrying way more hot dogs than any normal human could eat at once & a huge bag of candyfloss under his arm, that you hadn’t thought of him at all with Bucky around. He really was the best & you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy him referring to you as his girl, the man was the hottest guy you’d ever laid eyes on so a few hours escaping reality & experiencing what it was like being Bucky Barnes’s Girl wasn’t something you were going to pass up, even if it was just for the day.

He plonked himself down beside you, handing you your order & placing the candy floss at your side, then throwing his arm over your shoulder pulling you as close as possible to you, he always seemed to like you close. You shuffled into his side, so you could rest your head on his shoulder as you both sat eating your food & watching all the people casually walking by.

‘Do you wish you could go back?’

‘Sometimes, if only to see my Ma & Sisters but there’s a few things now that are better.’

‘Hmm’ you took a bite, was it the best? Maybe, but maybe it was the setting & company you found yourself with that was making it taste better than it actually did.

‘Yeah, the food,’ He proceeded to take a dramatically large bite making you giggle as he chomped it down, ‘the technology, the company too.’ He gave your shoulder a squeeze & leaned down to kiss your head that was happily resting on him.

‘Hmmm well I’m glad you’re here, I’ll tell Tony to hold off on the time machine to send you both back.’

You loved making the Super Solider laugh, he didn’t do it often, but it was like music to your ears when you were blessed with it, so when he found that comment as funny as he did, you joined him in letting it all out, there you were, two idiots laughing on a bench & it was wonderful. You felt so much lighter, like nothing could bother you with Bucky around, you felt safe, cherished & looked after, you needed someone like Bucky. Fat Chance.

You spent the rest of the day on rides, laughing, eating & sharing stories, there was a moment on top of the Ferris wheel where you thought Bucky was leaning in to kiss you, but he just found a bit of lint on your shoulder & was trying to assess if it was Ant Man needing assistance so needed to get closer.

Sure, you were disappointed, & no you didn’t see any actual lint, you always harboured a harmless crush on the Super Solider, who wouldn’t with him being so sweet & handsome, but it was such an odd feeling to not feel at all sad that less than 24 hours ago you were in love with someone else then unceremoniously dumped, or at least you thought you were in love. Hmm.

He walked you to your apartment block, insisting on making sure you were safe in your home before he left, you supposed he of all people knew the dangers of the world so of course invited him up, you didn’t want him to ever leave your side if you were being honest.

You were both settled on your sofa, him nursing a beer & you a glass of wine, ‘Don’t think I don’t appreciate this Bucky because I absolutely do, but why did you do all this for me today?’

‘Why wouldn’t I want to cheer up a person going through something, especially when they are my favourite person?’

It was like your heart skipped an entire beat hearing those words, the oversized Super Solider wasn’t the most forthcoming with his feelings ever, you thought, so to hear that from him meant the world to you, ‘Your favourite?’

Come on Bucky, now or never, ‘Look, Tony said I shouldn’t ask you to marry me or anything & I won’t, I won’t, I promise, but he said I should just shoot my shot, so look it started out as me wanting to cheer you up & make you smile because it’s always my favourite thing to do but at the same time maybe I just let you know that when you’re ready there are other people out there that would be happy to have you all to themselves & will know the treasure they’re holding. Not saying who, but if you don’t mind an age gap of say 72 years, there’s a certain single super solider that wouldn’t mind taking you to the movies, dinner & dancing.’

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he just came out with it, simple as that & his brain wasn’t even shouting at him to jump straight out of your window to the safety of not knowing what it feels like to be rejected from the only woman he’s wanted for 80 years.

You smirked trying your absolute best to stop yourself from jumping his bones, ‘Steve can dance?’

Thankfully he knew Steve was more like a brother to you, so you were just playing with him, so he dramatically clutched his chest, ‘Why … why would you willing to inflict pain on me like that Petal?’

You giggled narrowing your eyes, ‘So he can orrrr….?’

Watching how his eyes darkened sent a thrill down your spine & a deep throb to your clit, he moved closer towards you on the sofa, knees knocking, tracing finger up & down your thigh whilst he drew his tongue along his lower lip, it was a hypnotic, ‘You’d be too much for Steve sweetheart, you need someone who can be firm with you.’

You arched your brow, loving where this conversation was going & the way he grasped you flesh, you dropped your shoulder & looked up at him as innocently as you could drawing out your voice as seductively as possible before biting your lip, ‘is that right Sarge?’

‘Absolutely Petal.’ He couldn’t seem to take his eyes away from where your teeth indented your plump pout, he was desperate to run his thumb along it to release it & replace it with his mouth.

‘hmmm so a firm, single, super soldier?’

Almost looking cocky he managed to pull his focus back to your eyes, raising a brow, ‘Know any?’

You had your finger & thumb pinching your chin in faux contemplation, ‘Not ringing any bells Sarge.’

‘Let me remind you.’

Ding, Ding, Ding. He pulled your face to his crashing your lips together, holding your head in his hands, the contrast between flesh & metal was so uniquely Bucky & you weren’t sure if you ever wanted to go back to two regular hands.

It felt as though every kiss you had ever had before now were pecks on the cheek in comparison, because Bucky Barnes could kiss like nothing else, the absolute passion & desire he could communicate with his tongue had you on a plane of existence you never knew was available, what else could he do with it?

Every moment connected was erasing the last year of your life, why did you waste your time on that waste of space when this was available the whole time?

It wasn’t long until you were pulled onto his lap, straddling his thick thighs & grinding down onto the prominent bulge he was sporting, moaning as it made contact with your centre.

Between kisses he finally managed to string a full sentence together, ‘Are you sure? Feel like I’m taking advantage of your weakened emotional state.’

You giggled into his mouth, ‘Have you been watching Dr Phil again?’

‘Maybe, but I don’t want you to regret anything.’ The way he held your face back to take a pause & make sure it was what you wanted almost made you cry, this sweet man who did nothing but take care of you wanted you & there wasn’t a better feeling you’d ever had.

Connecting your foreheads, you looked deeply into his gorgeous ocean eyes, ‘The only thing I will regret is not doing it sooner & wasting my time on him.’

‘Really?’

You nodded, ‘Make me forget soldier.’

Your mouths were connected again but this time his hands moved with purpose freeing you of the layers that kept him from the entirety of you, quickly reciprocating you pulled his hoodie over his head, momentarily breaking your kiss.

‘The second you want me to stop you tell me Petal, you gonna be a good girl for me?’

You nodded going straight back to kissing him as he pulled your jeans off taking your pants with them, ‘Need your words flower.’

‘Yes Sarge.’

The serum running through his veins kicked in & he wasted no time reattaching your lips in a frantic kiss, working his way down to your jaw, neck & chest, spending that extra second admiring the sight before him.

‘You’re perfect sweetheart.’

‘You too gorgeous.’

He smiled at your words, that wonderfully adorable smile that he only allowed you to see, the adrenaline buzzing through you temporarily overtaken by the endorphins at the thought of this wonderful man wanting to be with you.

It was only a moment of being an adorable puppy, a switch before he was back to the insatiable Super Soldier that was about to plough you so hard you’d forget your own name, you had no doubt Bucky would be capable of it.

‘Not here Petal.’ He hoisted you up, his strong arms keeping you attached to his lips as he walked you through your apartment to the bedroom, gently bending to deposit you on the mattress still not parting your lips for a single second until he was positioned above you.

His mouth began descending back down you neck & chest until his lips found their way to your bra & he tsk’d at it getting in his way & without missing a step a knife appeared from his boot & he swiftly sliced the front of it inciting a gasp to escape, it was the single hottest thing you’d ever experienced & it set your whole existence on fire.

‘I’ll buy you a new one flower.’ it was thrown, along with the knife onto the floor, & his tongue wasted no time swirling around your nipple, the other being squeezed by his cool metal finger tips, the sensation making your back arch & you were already desperate for more.

‘Touch me Bucky.’

You could feel him smile against your chest & like all good soldiers did, he obeyed your command, keeping his mouth attached to your chest he traced his hand down your body, loving the way you squirmed as it hit your ticklish spots, you were so soft & as he gently parted your legs he could smell how wet you were.

Drawing a single finger along your folds, he made you shudder as he teased you gently, admiring how soaked you were for him, ‘All this for me Petal?’

Shyly nodding at him you watched as he made his way down, settling between your legs, it should have felt weird for another man to be seeing you in this state so soon, but it didn’t. It felt as though Bucky was the only one who should see you like that, vulnerable & open to everything he was about to give you.

His nose nudged at you, every hair stood on edge, your breath hitched & your heart thudded in anticipation. ‘Fucking perfect’, the first contact with his mouth to your glistening pussy released the beast within him that had been dying to taste you since the minute he laid eyes on you. It wasn’t gentlemanly, or loving, it was some caveman shit & lord you were not prepared for his tongue. Within the first minute you were on the verge of climaxing, he ate you out like he hadn’t eaten in years, yet his technique was a sharp as a knife, he worked you til he could feel you right on the edge before he cruelly pulled his mouth from you making you whimper & the loss of him.

Yes, you had been a good girl & if anyone deserved an orgasm it was you, but he didn’t want to ever stop tasting your nectar or move from between your legs. If he buried his cock in you he would blow his load within a minute he was that turned on by you, so he needed to at least make this bit last as long as possible for you.

If keeping you on the brink meant he could spend all night between you legs so be it, he carried on flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue, sucking it then burying his tongue in your cunt, over & over. Every time he pulled away you let out an ungodly whining noise or begged him to keep going.

‘No, No no, please.’ You were desperate at this point & willing to get on your knees to beg.

‘Please what?’

‘Please Sargent, please let me cum.’

‘Can’t sweetheart, can’t ever stop, you taste so good.’

He doubled down sucking at your clit & you almost sobbed the moment it was taken away; did he want you to have a tantrum? You were on the brink of one if he did it again.

‘Please, please, please’

You were babbling, tears escaping your eyes & right where he wanted, if you didn’t know what was going on you wouldn’t notice him lasting the 0.7 seconds he was predicting from him being so desperate to be inside you.

You were at the precipice of euphoria, your orgasm on the cusp, the anticipation of him pulling away had you on high alert & you could feel every single thing he did waiting for it to be snatched away at the very last second, but this time he didn’t pull away, he plunged his metallic fingers in you as you saw white & exploded through your pleasure to absolute ecstasy.

Curling his two thick digits he hit your spot over & over taking you to another straight away, the pleasure at a level you hadn’t ever experienced before, if he was talking to you you were clueless, everything was muffled & you didn’t even notice the hollowness once Bucky moved so he was covering you with his body.

‘Look at me Sweetheart.’

You managed to roll your eyes, which you assume had detached at some point during the second orgasm & look at his gorgeous blue ones, did they always make your heart skip a beat?

‘You’re really pretty, you know that Bucky.’ Your voice came out a bit hoarse but the cute smile on his face was worth the pain from straining your throat.

‘And you’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.’

You hid your face in the crook of his neck, ‘You ready for me gorgeous?’

You nodded against him. ‘Words sweetheart.’

‘Ye.. yes, want you to fuck me Sarge.’

‘That’s my girl’

He pumped his cock once, twice, you were looking down between your bodies, when did he even take his jeans off? He was huge, dauntingly so, the perfect cock, long & thick weeping & desperate for you.

He chuckled at your expression whispering in your ear, ‘It’ll fit darlin.’

‘If you say so Soldier.’ You really weren’t convinced.

His heavy length sat at your opening & slowly he pushed into you as he looked at your completely blissed our expression, head leaned back, eyes closed & mouth moaning the most sinful noises with every inch he added, he latched onto the neck you were perfectly presenting for him, mapping every spot that made you clench that bit tighter.

‘Fuck your pussy is chocking me darlin. Not gonna last.’

‘Mmnn fuck, so good Buck so so fucking good.’

Finally, he was fully seated in you, you’d never felt so full, so complete, you squeezed his ass to let him know he could get going but he stayed still, ‘just gimme a sec, been a while.’

Your giggled at his heavy breathing but quickly stopped once his hips began slamming into you, by god you needed a pounding & he complied perfectly, your good Soldier & all thoughts were lost as he repeatedly thrust his powerful body into you.

‘Fucking gorgeous you know that, wanted to fuck you since the day I met you. Fucking perfect, perfect pussy, like it was made for me.’

‘God Bucky, harder.’

‘You sure?.’

‘Yeah, gimme all you got, I can take it.’ you weren’t sure that you could, but you wanted to give it a try.

‘Not gonna last darlin. You gotta give me one more though.’

His metal fingers connected with your swollen clit sending a jolt of electricity through your body, you weren’t sure if you had ever made such an obscene noise before, it was too much but not enough at the same time.

‘Feels so good.’

‘You my good girl?’

‘Yes Sargent, want you to fill me up.’

‘Fuck sweetheart, don’t say that, I won’t ever fucking stop.’ You were making him go into overdrive, he was feral for you, his perfect angel with the most sinful mouth.

‘Don’t want you to, want you dripping out me for days.’

‘Jesus Christ, my perfect filthy girl.’

You were so overwhelmingly full of the Super Solider, the tip of his huge cock nudging the spot within you at rapid fire had the blinding pleasure begin to rip through you once again as you finally hit your third climax of the night clamping down on him as his hips stuttered & release followed painting your walls with his seed, pumping the cum into you repeatedly until his motion ceased & he lowered his lips to you.

Silence, still connected he watched you carefully as you opened your eyes, blinking from adjusting to the bright light having held them shut from the bliss you were coming down from.

He leaned down to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip before he gently moved the hair from around your face, ‘What you thinkin’?’

‘I wasted a year of my life on someone who wasn’t you.’ Reaching up to him you repeated his action, tucking the wayward strands behind his ears, caressing his cheeks with your fingers, it felt like a dream & you didn’t want to wake up.

‘Hmm just think of it as you lowered your standards so much for him, that he made me look like an ideal candidate in comparison.’

You hated that he didn’t think of himself highly enough, you shook your head smiling at his goofy grin, ‘Don’t say that please.’

‘Ok, how about this, seeing you lower your standards to that idiot made me get my act together & be the man you deserved.’

‘Better. Or maybe I was completely blind & now I can see.’

He rested his forehead against yours looking deeply at you, you were waiting for a serious meaningful declaration of love to come out, instead ‘you look like a minotaur from this close.’

You laughed batting the super soldiers arm ‘I think you may have gotten your mythical creatures mixed up there.’

‘Nope, it’s the one-eyed creature.’

‘Nope, it’s a human with a horse’s body.’

He shrugged his shoulders, ‘Agree to disagree.’

‘Absolutely not Barnes, where’s my phone?’

‘Oh, now you calling me Barnes, huh, what happened to Sargent.’

You shook your head at him, loving his playful teasing, ‘Your dick is soft, you only get Sargent when sex is on the cards.’

‘Oh, is that right?’ he planted a long slow kiss on your lips.

‘Yep & for people who know the difference between a Minotaur & a Cyclops of course.’

‘Of course,’ He agreed nodding away smugly. ‘Good thing I’m ready to go again then isn’t it? What’s my name?’

You felt him growing within you & it set your skin on fire, it was an indescribable sensation & as you let out a moan & batted your eyelashes at him you couldn’t help but submit to the huge Super Solider, ‘Sargent, Sir.’

‘Are you my good girl?’

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘Will you be my girl?’

‘Yes, Sargent.’

Both your smiles were as wide as the sun as he began picking up the pace of his hips, nowhere near the frantic level it had been before, this was different, slow & intimate, & as if they were magnets your lips found each other’s yet again.

‘Happy Valentine’s Day darlin’.’

🧡💛💚💙💜🤎

#bucky valentines #galentinesday #valentines day #valentine #james bucky barnes #fluffy bucky #bucky smut #sebastian stan smut #winter solider smut #sebastian stan #bucky barnes smut #bi #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanart #bucky fanfic #fanfic #marvel fanfic series #marvel fanfiction #one shot #dom bucky barnes #friends to lovers #funny valentine

[lokidokieokie]

The Calm After the Storm

Summary: After a grueling mission, Bucky and Y/n find solace and strength in each other's love.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Warning(s): fluffy fluff, mentions of a tough mission, lovey dovey things, Bucky Barnes ('cause he's just a warning himself), lemme know if I missed anything

The sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the tranquil lake as Bucky and Y/n sat side by side on a weathered wooden dock. The air was filled with a gentle breeze, carrying the scent of fresh pine trees and wildflowers. It was a moment of respite after a tumultuous mission, and the both of them relished in the tranquility that surrounded them.

Bucky turned his head to steal a glance at her. The fading light illuminated her face, highlighting the subtle freckles that dusted her cheeks and the soft curve of her lips. The remnants of worry and exhaustion were etched on her features, but they were slowly fading away, replaced by a sense of calm. Bucky couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"You okay?" Bucky asked, his voice gentle yet filled with genuine concern.

She turned to face him, their eyes meeting. She offered a small smile in return, her fingers tracing circles on the dock's worn wood. "Yeah, I'm alright. Just glad we made it back in one piece."

Bucky's metal arm brushed against her own, a silent show of solidarity. "You were amazing out there, you know. I don't know what I would've done without you by my side."

A blush crept onto her cheeks as she averted her gaze, the praise making her heart flutter. "You weren't so bad yourself, Sergeant Barnes. As always, you kicked some serious butt."

Bucky chuckled, the sound melodic and warm. "Guess we make a pretty good team, huh?"

The two fell into a comfortable silence, their shoulders touching as they watched the sun dip below the horizon. The vibrant colours of dusk reflected on the water, casting an ethereal glow that seemed to mirror the connection between Bucky and Y/n. They had been through countless battles together, their shared experiences forging an unbreakable bond.

Her fingers intertwined with Bucky's, their hands fitting together perfectly like the missing pieces of a puzzle. Bucky's touch sent a wave of reassurance and comfort through her, erasing any lingering traces of fear. It was a silent understanding, a language spoken between them without words.

"You know," she began softly, her voice laced with vulnerability, "I don't think I could've come this far without you. You've been my anchor, James."

Bucky squeezed her hand gently, his voice filled with unwavering sincerity. "And you've been mine, Y/n. You've shown me that there's still goodness left in this world, even after everything I've done."

Their gazes met once more, the depth of their feelings mirrored in their eyes. Time seemed to stand still as they leaned in, their lips brushing against each other's in a tender kiss. It was a silent promise, a shared understanding of the love and support they found in one another.

As they pulled apart, Bucky rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling. "We'll always have each other's backs, no matter what comes our way. I'll protect you, Y/n. Always."

A tear slipped down Ella's cheek, but it held no sadness. It was a tear of gratitude, of immense love for the man before her. "And I'll stand by your side, Bucky. Through thick and thin."

In that moment, as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, Bucky and Y/n found solace in each other's arms. The echoes of their past faded away, replaced by the promise of a brighter future. Together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead, drawing strength from their unwavering love and unbreakable bond.

As the stars twinkled in the night sky, the lake embraced their shared silence, forever holding their secret love story beneath its gentle ripples.

A/N ahhh, I just love those two with a passion!

I would also like to apologise for not updating any stories in a while...I've been focusing on my Uni work (shocking, I know); and I've finally just found out where I'm being placed for my teaching practical 😳

New chapters of all my series (both normal and mini) should be coming out soon :)

tagging the usual, please lemme know if you'd like to be removed or added to the taglist :)

🏷 @thewaithfuckingannoyme @evelyn-kingsley @moonlight-ee @fall-myriad

#bucky barnes #james “bucky” barnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #fem!reader #bucky barnes fanfic #fluffy mcfluff #avenger!reader #avenger!fem!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky #sebastian stan #sebastian stan character #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

[nykie-love-anime]

Day 17 ~ Breakfast In Bed

How Spin the Bottle leads to breakfast in bed and confessed feelings.

“Do you guys want to play spin the bottle?” Tony asks wearing a mischievous grin. You all look at each other before looking at Tony again. “Seriously Mr Stark are we in high school.” You tease the man with a grin knowing he loves these sort of games. “I don’t see why we can’t.” Bucky says with a small smile as he shrugs his shoulders in the mood for some high school games.

All you can do is sigh because you would love the opportunity to kiss him, but what if he doesn’t feel the same. What if your brother says anything because it is his best friend? The thought of your brother not liking you together has been eating you up from inside for a while. But you know what, you are not going to screw up your only chance of kissing the man you had a crush on.

Now this caused Tony to smirk because he knows now you are going to give in, it was his plan after all to get you and Bucky to confess your feelings towards each other. “Alright let’s do this.” You say and James smiles at you with a shy grin. You take your place on the couch that formed a circle full of friends when the party started to die down a bit. Tony places a beer bottle in the middle of the group causing them all to groan but they gave in nonetheless because they know Tony will not give up. “Okay guys.” Tony claps his hands together. “Who wants to go first?" he grins at his colleagues and friends.

“Since Bucky agreed first why doesn’t he go first.” Steve grins as he is in on Tony’s plan. He really wants his best friend and sister to finally get together after years of pining. As Steve looks at James he smiles and nods towards the bottle. “Okay guys how this is going to work is if the bottle lands on you, you are going to go into that closet and do whatever you want for seven minutes.” Tony explains. “Everything is on the table” he smirked looking around the room.

Bucky sighs and moves forward to spin the brown bottle and your breath stops as the bottle starts slowing till it stops completely in front of you. “Y/N.” Natasha call you out of your daze. “Huh?” you look at the ginger and you catch the grin she sends to Steve. “Cool, cool. Ok Tin Man and Ms America it’s your turn.” Tony smirks as you and Bucky blush. Getting on your knees to stand up he follows you towards the closet. And your teams cheers all around you.

“Okay love birds when this door closes do whatever you want. You have seven minutes.” Tony said closing the door behind you and Bucky. “I’m so glad I get to do this with you.” James smiles at you “I’ve been waiting forever to kiss you so if you don’t feel the same please stop me now otherwise I will not be able to help myself.” You blush at the look on his face. “Please kiss me.” You pleaded and he pulls you into a kiss.

‘This day couldn’t possibly get any more perfect.’ you think and before you could think further he pulls away from the kiss. You smile at him and he chuckles. “Please kiss me again.” You whispered against his lips and he happily obliged. He leans forward closing the gap between your faces as he presses his lips, softly, against yours. You really love the feeling of his lips against yours.

As you guys sink towards the floor he places his hands on your hips to pull you onto his lap. You lift your hands to his cheeks rubbing softly as he moves your lips together. He bites your bottom lip as pulls away again to take a breather keeping his forehead against yours. He smiles at you in a shaky voice you begin talking. “That was better than I ever could have imagined it." He nodded pulling you in for a slow kiss before his tongue could enter your mouth the door opens.

“Times up love birds.” You hear your brother laugh as Bucky groans as he pulls away from you. “Guys.” Steve starts with a big grin. “If you wanna date go ahead. I would be happy if you guys are happy.” He smirks. “But just know if you hurt my little sister I will do nothing because she can look after herself.” He finishes as he see the look on your face knowing you are going to say something to him about looking after yourself.

“Okay guys if you will excuse us we are going to bed.” You say with a grin and the group cheered. “Finally.” They cheered again. As you blushed pulling him towards your room. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Tony called after you guys and you giggle before answering. “That is not a whole lot Tones.” He grins before yelling exactly as you and James leave the living room.

When Bucky’s eyes opened the morning he knows he is not getting back to sleep. It was only 7 in the morning so he decided to make breakfast for his newly made girlfriend. The only issue is you look so cute cuddled into him he can’t get up just yet. It took about five minutes to get out but you wouldn’t let him go. So after he got everything made he went upstairs to wake you up.

“Good morning beautiful.” Bucky greeted with a small smile. “I brought you breakfast.” He said pointing at the tray of food on you bedside table. “Good morning handsome.” You greeted with a tired smile stretching as you sit up. “So last night wasn’t a very good dream.” He smiled at you. “No sweetheart.” He said pulling you into a side hug. “Good because I would be very upset if it was.” “Now what did you say about breakfast.” You giggle when you smell French toast, as he pulls you into a good morning kiss you could not help but sigh in content. “I just wanted to say. I really do love you Y/N. I have since we were teens even though it has been a while I really am glad I get to call you my girlfriend.” He said smiling down at you. “I love you too Buck.” You smile up at the man you have loved since you were teens. “I am also really glad I get to call you my boyfriend.”

Day 16 | Masterlist | Day 18

#y/n #reader #fem!reader #fluff #y/n imagines #female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #winter solider x reader #winter solider imagine #winter solider fanfiction #james buchanan barnes imagine #james barnes x reader #fluffy june prompts day 17

[tllgrrl]

Happy Birthday, Old Man by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones

Summary: Bucky celebrates his 100 and somethingth (“Who’s countin’?”) birthday with his family, and an old friend makes an appearance.

* * * * * * * * * *

For @buckybarnesevents Bucky’s Birthday Bash: Bake A Cake Edition

Base - #6 Post-Endgame /Post-TFATWS

Filling - Trope/Quotes: #1 There was only one bed. (Kinda…)

Frosting - Characters: #11 Sarah Wilson (and Cass, AJ, and Alpine)

Toppings: Colours: Blue (mentioned)

* * * * * * * * * *

He slowly opened his eyes and Sarah’s shoulder was the first thing he saw.

Smooth. Dark. Highlighted by pale blue moonlight through the skylight.

He didn’t want to move, but he carefully extracted himself from the bed, grabbed his robe from the chair, made his way out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him, and headed down the stairs.

He drank a glass of water, then stepped out onto the deck that overlooked the lake.

It was chilly enough to where he wrapped Sarah’s shawl she’d left outside around himself before stretching out on one of the deck chairs, and leaning back to look up into the starry night sky.

The light fragrance of her—and his—favourite body lotion enveloped him.

So many stars. Different constellations are visible in Upstate New York than in Southern Louisiana…than in Wakanda…than in…than…in…

“So…seems like you got some of that Life that Tony was talkin’ about, too, huh? I’m really happy for you, Buck.”

“Mmmm. Wha—?” Bucky opened his eyes, looked over to his left, and there was an elderly man—tall, with white hair—standing at the railing, looking out over the still waters.

It looks like, but it can’t possibly be…

“Steve…?“

“Happy Birthday, Old Man.”

“Thanks, pal. What—?”

Just as the man turns to face him—

Sarah shifts a little.

“You okay, Old Man?” She reaches back and gently rakes her fingers through his hair.

Bucky opens his eyes. He’s in bed. Sarah’s shoulder is the first thing he sees.

Smooth. Dark. Highlighted by pale blue moonlight through the skylight.

“Nothin’.” He kisses that shoulder, gently rubs his cheek on her. “Just a dream, nandi.”

“A good dream?” She whispers, but he can hear the smile in her voice.

He closes his eyes and buries his face in her hair, inhaling her and pulling her closer, wrapping his arm around her.

“Yeah. Not as good as this, though.”

Behind him is Cass. Cass’s heels are at his back and his head is pointed toward the foot of the bed.

AJ is curled up at Sarah’s feet.

The plan was to take the boys to their room and tuck them in after Storytime, but everyone had all fallen asleep in the King-sized bed because it was cold outside, and the vacation cabin had a fireplace in the master bedroom, so they were all cozy.

A purr is coming from somewhere above his and Sarah’s heads, and Alpine’s paws find his head and begin gently kneading his scalp.

“Hey, up there,” he whispers, “settle down, you.”

Outside, it’s wee hours dark, but the moon is almost full. Along with the soft glow of the nightlight by the door, Bucky can make out the details in the room, and of the blanket covering them.

It’s different shades of blue, woven from fibers dyed with indigo.

Woven into the blanket there are symbols, words, prayers that offer blessings and protection.

There is a similar spread on Sarah’s bed back home in Delacroix. The boys have their special Border Tribe blankets as well. This particular super-sized blanket travels with the family when they go on vacations and road trips.

It is soft, yet substantial thanks to the Vibranium that’s woven into the cloth making it practically impervious to a whole list of threats.

And most importantly, it keeps his family comfortable and warm.

Before he goes back to sleep, Bucky looks over to the nightstand and sees the framed photograph they’d given to him earlier.

A photo of Sarah, Cass, AJ, and him.

It had been beautiful at the dock on that special day. They were all smiles, dressed to the nines, and Sarah was holding a little bouquet of flowers.

The card next to the photo was handmade by the two boys and read:

Happy Birthday, Dad!! We Love You!!

Happy Birthday, mthandi! Sarah wrote under the boys’ names, and had drawn a heart.

“Happy Birthday, Old Man,” he heard the familiar voice as it faded away.

Yeah, Bucky thought as he drifted back to sleep, smiling.

Happy.

* * * * * * * * * *

Also posted HERE on AO3 (members only) .

For @buckybarnesevents Bucky Barnes Birthday events.

Thanks for reading!

#bucky barnes #buckysarah #bucky x sarah #bucky barnes x sarah wilson #fanfics #fan fiction #sarahbucky fanfiction #BBEbuckybdaybash2024 #bucky barnes birthday #bucky barnes birthday bash 2024 #fluff #fluffy fluff #so much birthday fluff #fleur de louve

[winter-soldier-vibes]

Morning Cuddles

Bucky x reader

Length: Drabble

Drabble masterlist 

---

You wake up slowly, blinking your eyes open to sunlight filtering through your window. You sigh and shift, trying to stretch a little without waking Bucky.

However you realized you didn’t have to as you were enveloped into a warm embrace from behind.

Bucky pressed a kiss to your shoulder as he pulled you back against his chest. “Mornin’,” he mumbles, sleep lacing his voice still. 

You smile, resting your arm on top of his where it lays around your torso. “Morning.”

Bucky nuzzles his nose in your neck as you sigh, looking out the window as the sunrise begins to fade into a blue sky.

“What do you wanna do today?” You ask softly.

“I wanna spend it with you.”

You chuckle a little, turning over so you face Bucky as your arm wraps around his waist. “I wanna spend it with you too. But how do you wanna spend it?”

“With. You,” he says sleepily, a kiss separating the words.

You giggle again, shaking your head a little. “Breakfast?”

“Mm-mn,” he hums, pulling you closer. “‘S too early to get out of bed”

“Do you want me to make it and bring it in here?”

“No.” He says, arms tightening around you. “You know what I wanna do?” he asks, sleep causing him to slur his words together a little.  “I just wanna lay with you and hold you all day. Can we do that?” he asks softly.

You smile and lean in to kiss him softly, relaxing against him. “Yeah. Yeah, That sounds really nice.”

Bucky kisses your forehead. 

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, James.”

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barne #buckybarnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #bucky x you #bucky barns x you #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #fluffy #drabble

[urdepressedslut]

Stray ❝part twelve❞

♡ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Your true self is slowly being revealed, what is this place you been sent to? What happens when you return home, will Bucky still be there— or will he run?

♡ Warnings: dark themes, angst, drowning, super fluffy, mentions of dead bodies, death

Series Masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | 18+

You wondered if this was what death felt like. Empty, muted— an inescapable void.

It was calming and terrifying, the quiet welcome. But the environment was blank, colorless. You found yourself itching for something, someone to appear. But it was just you.

Glancing around, you knew you should begin to accept this fate— but you wanted to fight. Bucky was still out there, alone. If this was death, then you’d live in eternity wishing only the best for him, hoping that he could forgive you for leaving him— when you had promised him you wouldn’t.

You immediately shot your hand up, feeling your smooth skin. You remember something cracking down on your skull— but now there was nothing. Like it had never happened. You shuddered at the sickening feeling that was permanently burned into your brain. The feeling of your skull shattering and the pieces moving— grinding against each other. The vibrations of your own skull shifting. Your stomach flipped anxiously— wishing you could forget the memory altogether.

“Who’s there?” A familiar voice sounded through the dull reality, echoing off of non existent walls.

You looked around, eyes wide in fear. Your gut ached with dread, hoping that you didn’t run into the claimed people. Donna— your aunt. The mere thought of all the events that you wished you could forget— came flooding through your mind again. Your stomach was empty, nothing left but to dry heave.

“You’re scared.” The voice spoke again, this time closer.

You didn’t dare looked up from your hunched over position, dreading what you would see when you looked up.

Risking a glance anyway, you lifted your head— only to meet eyes with yourself. You would’ve thought it was a mirror, but the version of you that stiff across the way— was eerily different.

She stood still as ever, the cloth like material wrapping around you like a cocoon. A jagged fence like crown sat a top your head, blending with the cloth. A withered flower looked to be carved into her forehead— of what was showing. The cloth dropping down form the crown covered her eyes in a haunting shadow. Only could you see her fully in certain lighting. Lastly, what had you so mesmerized and scared was the way her hair and cloth would lightly float behind her, like she was merely a ghost passing by.

“You look like me.” You whispered, voice hoarse from your dry heaving.

She tilted her head, almost like she was examining you.

“I am you.”

You stayed still, staring at her without blinking— in fear she’d creep closer the second you closed your eyes.

“How? Where… where am I? I don’t belong here!” You rushed out, beginning to panic.

You felt uneasy as she stared at you, her head tilting back and fourth again— like she was examining you head to toe. You don’t know why it was more unsettling when it was yourself staring at you.

Like the fear of staring at your reflection in the mirror. The fear that your reflection may move without you doing so— except it was real now. At that, you found it one hundred times more horrifying.

“Where are we?” You asked again, feeling comforted by the idea that you weren’t alone here. We. Even if it was yourself, you still felt less alone.

“In the Lacuna.” She answered casually, face unchanging. Her features stayed cold and emotionless.

You looked around, risking taking your eyes off her. Everything was blank, empty. How could you be somewhere?

“I don’t understand…” You whispered out to no one in particular.

“You’re only here, because you want to be here.” She started, body as still as stone when she talked. “You met your end in the real world, and now you seek help in the Lacuna. The sliver of nothing in between the real world and after.”

You felt like throwing up again, the mere mention that you had died. But you couldn’t understand why you weren’t really dead, instead being held hostage in this gap.

“Nothing makes sense.” You admitted, staring mindlessly at thee dark form.

“No, it wouldn’t. It’s rare you’ll ever come back to the Lacuna again. You’re here because you called for me, as I called for you. I’ve been waiting for you to let me in for so long.” She spoke out, her words dripping solemn.

You didn’t know why you felt bad, thinking of her being trapped here for years and years. All the signs, all the weird occurrences. Was it her? No— because she’s you.

“This is all in my head?” You tried, remembering the mantras you’d repeat to yourself. All those times you’d fight the illusions— but now you wondered if it was all in your head… or if it was her. You.

“Yes. Time has stopped in the real world. You could stay here forever if you wanted, and no time would pass in the real world.” She explained, and you for a second thought that sounded peaceful.

A pause in the chaos, letting yourself breathe and think— knowing nothing could happen until you wanted it to.

Bucky filled your mind suddenly, the guilt of staying away from him too long, eating away at you. Though time was paused for him, you couldn’t help but feel terrible.

“What about Bucky?” You thought out loud.

The other you tilted her head in curiosity, hanging onto every word you said like it was fascinating.

“What about him?” She responded.

You shivered at her lack of emotion when talking about him.

“I wanna be with him. I don’t wanna be here anymore,” You told her, “I don’t wanna talk to you anymore.”

She just stared at you, staying silent for a moment longer than you were comfortable with. She slowly took a step closer, so quickly it seemed like a glitch in time. The haunting way her capes would float behind her, like a following shadow.

“There’s so much you don’t know yet— you sure you wanna go back? Things aren’t ever going to be the same.” Other you said mysteriously and it sounded more like a warning than a question.

You thought for a moment— what did she mean by that?

Before you could finish another thought, everything faded into darkness. It was quiet— and suddenly it wasn’t.

You were suddenly choking up water, leaning up to your side to spit up water that lodged its way into your throat. Through the dry heaves and gagging— you could feel the faint coolness of a metal hand resting on your back.

“(Y/n), it’s okay— I’ve got you.” The male voice sounded from next to you.

You didn’t want to risk looking over yet, needing a second to gain control of yourself— your lungs.

You felt disoriented, the switch in environments— realities. It left you dizzy and clinging onto the males arm. Blinking away the blurriness, you finally risked a glance to the male.

Waves of comfort consumed your body, warming every numb limb caused from the anxiety of everything— at the sight of Bucky.

“Buck— I— you’re here I—” You stumbled over every word, the sight of him back in front of you overwhelming.

He shushed you, pulling you into his embrace. Caging you into his warm, protective hold— he felt your body shake. His arms only tightened at every whimper that escaped your lips. The way you were fisting the chest of his shirt like he was your lifeline.

“It’s okay, I’m here— I’m here doll. I’m never leaving you, okay?” He cooed petting down your hair before placing a kiss.

He gently lifted your face so he could see you completely, his thumbs rubbing the moisture away.

“Okay? I’ve got you now.” He kept repeating, peppering kisses on your hair and all over your face.

Your closed your eyes, the comforting feeling of his lips touching every inch of your face. Your skin sparked at each touch of his lips. Almost immediately, your mind was distracted— you felt at peace here with him.

“Okay, I…” You wanted to say it.

The fear of being taken back to The Lacuna was still buried deep in your veins. Here you are, memorizing every inch of his face in case you were to vanish again. Taken back to the void that was apparently your mind. You wanted to say it— and you were starting to feel like you had to, or else you’d never get the chance.

“Buck…” You started, grabbing his attention with the way you held onto his face so delicately.

Both of you treating each other like glass— so fragile.

“What’s wrong (Y/n)?” He whispered, leaning into your palms instinctively— your touch healing.

You swallowed through your tight throat, your eyes dancing all around his face. You couldn’t help yourself from smiling at every freckle— every line. He was beautiful.

“Bucky— I love you.” You rushed out, your chest sinking with the weight that no longer sat a top.

His face morphed into happiness, his eyes tearing up as his bottom lip quivered. It was almost uncontrollable with the way he pulled your face flush to his. His lips molding into yours, like puzzle pieces that were never meant to stray apart. He had known for awhile that he loved you. As painful as it was to wait, he could finally breathe now.

There was so many things that he still needed answers to, but for now he had finally found home.

Pulling back for air, the both of you were gasping— panting warm air into each others faces.

“I’ve loved you for awhile now— I love you so much. I’m so sorry you have to deal with all this— you don’t deserve any of it. I know I broke my promise before. Fuck— I’m sorry.” He cried, his voice cracking with emotion, “I won’t let anyone hurt you again, I won’t. I’ll die before anyone lays a hand on you.”

You were panting, feeling breathless as he spoke— he had loved you for awhile. The butterflies had bursted through your stomach, your body erupting in goosebumps. The warmth from his words running through your veins.

“I don’t even know if I’m still capable of love— if I’m not too broken to love. But I want to— I want to love you. I will do everything and anything to love you as you should be. I don’t wanna be without you, I can’t. I just— I—” He wheezed out, holding onto your face as if you were going to vanish. “I don’t know how I’ve managed to live without you— all this time. I need you.”

Your lips were numb, unmoving with shock. His confession was strong— burning furiously with passion that you were never aware of. It was foreign to have someone burn so powerfully for you— to want you. Maybe you had never known true love, never even thought that you’d be able to experience it. But Bucky had come into your life and showed you that love was real— that you could be loved.

You knew your face must’ve shown the shock you were feeling, when you saw the corners of his mouth curve up— his handsome smile beaming at me.

Things were far from over with, but you felt the worst had passed. You tried your hardest not to stare amongst the scattered corpses, the ones that had already started to smell. You weren’t sure what the cause was… if the other you had something to do with it.

“I didn’t know why for the longest time… and I’m still confused sometimes but— I’ve always needed you. Whether it was a reminder that it was all in my head or simply just being the company that I needed.” You whispered, rubbing a hand repeatedly over his cheek.

He took a deep breath in at your words. Your admissions only made his love run deeper for you. The way he was needed— wanted by someone. He couldn’t fathom the idea that someone would want someone as monstrous as him. But here you were, changing each and every negative thought he ever had about himself.

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you… After all the damage I’ve caused… there’s no way I deserve you.” He admitted, and you kept smoothing his skin with your hand— to which to he leaned into your palm. “I guess I’m a little selfish… because no matter what my mind tries to convince me— I’m still gonna choose to be with you.”

“You deserve more than you think— I just wish you’d see it.” You told him, saddened that he thought of himself so poorly.

“I don’t think I’ll ever see it that way.” He breathed out, knowing he had too much blood in his hands. He didn’t deserve a chance to even clear his name.

You breathed out, cradling his face in both your hands now. He enjoyed the feeling of your touch of his skin, the way you almost held him protectively. He needed more of that in his life— and you were able to provide him with that.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, his earlier words ringing through your head.

“I think you’re capable of love.” You whispered, watching his eyes squint in slight confusion.

“What?”

“You said you didn’t know if you were capable of love. I think— no I know you’re capable.” You told him confidently, watching his eyes fill with tears. “I have never known what love felt like my whole life. I knew I was missing something, but I also just didn’t understand it… and I still don’t really understand. But you made me feel something… something other than the pain that I was used to.”

Your voice broke, your own eyes filling with tears— but you willed them to stay. You swallowed through your tight throat and wiped a gentle thumb under his eyes, smearing the tear that had escaped from him.

“You’re the reason I’m believing in love, and I wouldn’t be able to do that if you weren’t capable.” You finished, the tears running down your cheeks by now.

It was his turn to be speechless. You were truly an angel— one that had saved him from loneliness. The pain, the memories, the torture from HYDRA. It faded away when he was with you— some days he could forget almost completely about it all. You were the only thing he needed to survive. He’d live in a cardboard box and hide away from the entire world— as long as he had you by his side.

He leaned in without thought and stopped before his lips could touch yours.

“Can I… can I kiss you?” He whispered, his breath fanning your face.

You smooth your thumbs over his cheeks, smiling at him with joyful tears painting your skin.

“You don’t have to ask to do that.”

He gave a small smile before he pressed his lips to yours. You would never get over the feel of his mouth on you, the way his plump lips molded perfectly to yours. The way his teeth would gently graze your bottom lip, causing you to slightly open your mouth. The way he’d just barely trace your bottom lip with his tongue before he captured your lips again in a possessive kiss. It was all addictive, his touch an escape from the horrors of reality.

You broke apart from the kiss, needing to breathe— unfortunately. You both leaned foreheads against each other, relishing in each others hold.

There was a lot of explaining that needed to be done, and you wanted him to know as much as you did. About Donna, The Lacuna— about it all. You wanted him to know so you didn’t have to hold onto all the information heavily. You needed him to understand, for him to help you’d figure out what was happening.

To understand what you were.

Like always— there were too many questions without any answers.

To be added to a taglist

TAGLIST: @zonkie-bee @tortilla-maria1 @lizslibrary @sebastians-love @xiaosluvr @navs-bhat @ragingrainbowshipl @delicatecapnerd @buckybarnesandmarvel @viperchick47 @hunitweet @vixi-3303 @buckyb-stan @happinessinthebeing @mirtaqueen @blog-the-lilly @sebstanwhore @chayceschultz @hereticdance @billy-reads @nastashassandwich @potatothots @goldylions @silverfire13 @ghostofwinter @hanihoney88 @marvelogic @ilovetaquitosmmmm @unaxv @flowers-and-fichte @globetrotter28 @marvel-fandom23

#bucky barnes #the winter soldier #sebastian stan #marvel cinematic universe #reader insert #buckybarnes #stray mini series #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #beefy bucky barnes #protective bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes series rex #marvel imagines #heavy angst #super fluffy #marvel #the winter soldier fanfiction

[awesomerextyphoon]

In From the Cold

Summary: Bucky comes home with little friend he found on a cold winter night. 

Pairing: Bucky x Black Female Reader 

Rating: 16/Teen

Word Count 1.2K

A/N: Some of the words are in Igbo with translation. Thanks to @mrsmischief209​ for the beta!

Back to Masterlist

“I hope Bucky gets back soon. The food’s getting cold,” your worried eyes spied the clock as thick flurries of snow blanketed the ground. 

“Don’t worry Mommy!” your daughter, Obioma, reassured you from the dinner table, “Daddy will be back soon! We aren’t being chased by bad men anymore!” 

“I know, I know Oma Nwam (dear),” you murmured as you kissed your daughter’s forehead, “It’s just that I worry.” 

And who could blame you? 

Ever since you met James three years ago, people have been after you. 

It started when you wanted to go to Trader Joe’s for movie snacks. You wanted to reward yourself for a grueling week of work and for picking up your co-workers slack again. The bright red of the store sign graced your skin when you heard a blast. 

The vestiges of HYDRA was looking for their Winter Soldier and they were done being tactful. 

Everything was a flurry of reds, oranges, yellows, and black as people ran for shelter. You almost vomited when you saw a man get sliced in half by falling debris. 

You plummeted to the ground after get the wind knocked out of you by the frantic crowd of panicked civilians. Closing your eyes in defeat, you waited for Death’s sweet embrace. But it never came. Instead, strong arms carried you to safety. 

You were saved by an angel who insists on being called otherwise. Though he did accept your offer to bum off your couch for a few days. 

Soon you realized that the Adonis who saved you was the one and only Bucky Barnes. You giggled at his bashful expression when you called him out on it. Here’s a man who battled against Captain America on equal footing, but couldn’t look you in the eye at a small question. 

It didn’t take long for the two of you to become friends in between running from HYDRA, Secret US Government Organizations, and assholes who wanted his vibranium arm. 

–––––

The first kiss came as an accident. 

You were watching Lily & Stitch and Bucky was having a moment connecting to Stitch and you to Lilo. 

Bucky turned to you and wondered,“Do you think…I could change? Become a better person?”

You frowned at the tears welling up in his eyes. Here was a man who was nearly abandoned as POW experiment by his nation in during WW2 before being saved by his friend. A man who then was mind raped for nearly TWENTY YEARS until those fucking dobbers got their ‘fist’. A man who was trapped in his own mind for decades committing unspeakable crimes against humanity and the planet for the powers who wanted to ‘guide the people’. A man who never got to say goodbye to his loved ones robbed of nearly every chance to find peace. 

A man who despite everything he’s been through, he still wants do good and protect others. 

“Bucky, you are so much more than what HYDRA made you. You’re my angel,” you declared as you went in to kiss him on the cheek. 

––––

It took about two months of Sam and Nat ribbing both of you for being idiots to start dating. Barely two dates in and Steve caught you making out in the car like a couple of horny teenagers. 

Sam got a picture of it and sent it to Natasha. 

You gave birth to Obioma eight months later. 

A few months after giving birth to your beautiful baby girl, the US Gov’t finally backed off when Nat threatened to dump info on several redacted projects to the public. 

For the first time in nearly a century, Bucky was at peace. 

Then your daughter started walking at five months and talking at seven. Plus she crushed a hard plastic toy in her chubby little hands which caused your anxiety to spike for a bout two seconds before remembering Nat strong-armed the US Gov’t into getting off your backs.

––––

“Mommy! Mommy!” Obioma exclaimed, running to the front door, “Daddy’s home!” 

“Hello sunshine!”, Bucky picked up his adorable daughter,” How was your day?” 

“I went to Aunty Nat’s place for playtime and to make cookies! Then I went to Uncle Bruce for studying and met his cousin Jennifer!” 

“You met his cousin Jennifer? What was she like?”

“She’s really nice and fun! Plus, she taught me how to get out of taking a quiz!” Obioma jumped out her Nnam’s (dad’s) embrace bouncing up and down with unrestrained glee. 

“What did she say?” 

“She said to get Auntie Nat-“ 

“She said to get Nat to talk to Bruce in a closet.” You interrupted not wanting a repeat of this afternoon. You had a quick sidebar with cousin Jen. 

“Huh.” 

“Hey Daddy, what’s in your jacket?” Obioma stopped jumping long enough to notice the small lump near the top Bucky’s jacket. 

“Well sunshine,” Bucky knelt in front of the toddler,”This little one,” He slowly unzipped his jacket,”was lost and decided to give our family a chance.” 

Bucky unfurled his large hands to reveal,”Is that a snowball, Daddy?” 

“No Oma,” you giggled,”It’s a kitten.” 

You didn’t know what to make of the next few minutes. Your little Oma backed away from Bucky, afraid of hurting the kitten. 

No doubt she’s heard some of the slander peddled by sad, pathetic mothers with way too much time on their hands. 

She took on step out to your husband and the pure white ball of fur terrified of hurting the little ball of fur. 

“It’s okay, Sunshine,”Bucky coaxed with an outstretched hand,”Come and say Hello.” 

Obioma carefully stretched out her chubby little hand to pet the tiny kitty. 

Her eyes widened with joy when the tiny feline crept into her hands. You were able to sneak in a pic for Nat.

“Where did you find her James?”

Bucky pulled the kitten and his Sunshine into his arms,“I was walking home when a heard a ruckus a few blocks away. Turns out some punks ganged up on this little one.” 

“Oh no! Poor Kitty!” Obioma exclaimed with tears threatening to fall from her eyes. 

“I know, sunshine,”Bucky mumbled into her forehead wiping away her tears, “But this little one was so brave! She refused to back down, but she needed a little help. So I walked up to them and they ran off. Then she ran up to my shoulder like a tree, or a mountain.”

“A mountain?” 

“Yes, Sunshine. Poor little kitty was scared. Probably the first time anyone’s helped her.”

“Can she stay with us, Daddy?” 

Bucky flashed you his ‘playful DILF smile’, “I dunno. It’s gonna be a lot of responsibility taking care of her.”

“Pwlease!” Your daughter flashed the Puppy Dog Eyes and Pout guaranteeing her victory. Both of you have a hard time saying no to her as it is. 

“Alright, Oma,” Bucky passed your daughter to you awaiting arms,”What do you want to call our travel little kitty?” 

“Um, Auntie Nat talked about the Awlps at story time. Mommy, what was the word she used?” 

“Alpine, Nwam.” 

“Alpine!” 

“Alpine it is!” Bucky declared before rubbing his nose against Obioma’s.

“Well, now that we have welcomed our newest member to the family, let’s go eat. The food’s getting cold.” 

“Yay!” Obioma ran to the dining room. 

–––

“My kind angel saved a kitty this evening. That deserves a reward,”You whispered leaning to kiss Bucky only for you to jerk your head , “But, you didn’t call and we were so worried.” 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 

“I know, I know. I wonder how I’ll reward you?” 

Bucky chuckled and kissed your neck,”I’ll think of something.” 

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x black!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #mcu fluff #marvel fluff #bucky barnes x female reader #alpine #in from the cold #bucky alpine fluff #cats #fluffy cats #bucky barnes fandom #bucky barnes fanfiction

[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.’

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction fluff #bucky barnes ff #bucky barnes fanfic fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic fluffy #bucky barnes fic funny #bucky barnes fic fluff #bucky barnes fanfic funny #bucky barnes x reader mutual pining #bucky barnes x reader idiots in love #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes request

[sparklefics]

Fire Escapades

Pairing: Teenagers AU! Bucky & F!Reader Set in the 40s

Prompt: Teenager!FReader getting shy about being naked in front of Teenager!Bucky for the first time.

A/N: So I didn’t really follow the prompt at all so this is basically a 40s! Teenager!Bucky & Reader. 🤷

I really liked this little thing, I feel like it has potential so I might write some more.

Warnings: none, just fluff

WC: 1,442

**Gif not mine

[Masterlist]

James Buchanan Barnes was trouble and you knew that from the second he laid his eyes on you, not because he was a bad boy–quite the opposite. 

He was literally the guy next door. You met at school, but you'd seen him around the neighborhood before. One day after school was over he walked up to your locker and introduced himself, asked if he could walk you home. You were hesitant to agree but you made it clear to him that you'd be carrying your books, which he respected.

On the walk home he admitted that he was in fact your next door neighbor and he was just looking to make friends since he was new in town. "If you don't mind, I promised my ma, I'd pick up my sister Rebecca from school on the way back."

You said you didn't mind making a stop as long as you got back home in time to help your mom prepare dinner. His little sister was so cute, shared the same blue eyes as her brother and that easy charm, she quickly had you wrapped around her finger. 

You and James became friends. You two would walk to school together, sometimes even share a milkshake at the diner down the block. 

You'd come to trust him with everything, even your broken heart after Gilmore Hodge stomped on it and you went home in tears.

You sat on the fire escape bawling your eyes out over Hodge kissing Dot right in front of you. You thought you were being quiet when suddenly you heard the squeak of Bucky's window being opened. "Hey, doll. Thought I heard you out he– Oh. What's going on?"

You dried your tears as quickly as possible but he still caught sight of them and jumped over from his fire escape to yours.  

"Nothin', just me being an idiot." 

"Is it Hodge? Did he- he was inappropriate with you?" 

You could tell Bucky was angry without even looking at him, if you looked at him you would break down and start crying all over again. "He's not worth it, Bucky." Was all you said but Bucky was seeing red by now.

"I'm gonna kick his ass." 

"No, you are not!" Before Bucky could jump off the fire escape and go look for a fight you stopped him— he'd been itching for a fight ever since he started boxing. 

You grabbed a hold of his hand and pulled him down to sit with you. Bucky never let go of your hand as you told him what happened with Hodge. He told you it was Hodge's loss for not realizing what an incredible girl he just missed out on. 

You two stayed out in the fire escape way past bedtime, when you bid him goodnight and went to open your window to crawl back into your room you were surprised to find it locked. You turned back to Bucky's fire escape but he was long gone. You stood there for at least five minutes mustering the courage to jump over to Bucky's and ask for help. 

When you knocked on his window he turned around and to your surprise he was midway through changing into his pajamas. You'd never noticed before but he was quite muscular, your friend. 

You remind yourself that Bucky Barnes is your friend after all.

"Doll, did you jump over?! Why'd you jump?"

"My window got stuck–and I–" You yelp as Bucky pulls you into his room. "Was going to ask for a blanket."

"A blanket? Doll, you're not sleeping outside, you'll get sick." He ushers you to sit on his small bed while he puts on a loose shirt. "Your mom's still working that overnight shift at the hospital downtown?"

You feel yourself overheating over the fact that you now know what your best friend looks like without a shirt– nice, he looks very much like a man. For some reason you cannot stop staring at his arms, which you never noticed before but now you want them wrapped around you. 

Wait! He asked you something.

"Yes."

Bucky rummages through the trunk at the foot of his bed for his favorite navy blue sweater, and gently drapes it over your shoulders and grabs a blanket to set himself over on the floor by your side. You two continue your previous conversation–from the fire escape– whispering. Bucky complains that he can barely hear you so with your permission he moves over to join you on the bed. You lay under the covers while he was over them, to preserve some 'decency'. 

Though, in all honesty, decency was out the window the second Bucky laid next to you as you two gravitated towards each other. You cuddled up with him as his arms gathered you into his chest, into safety. Bucky’s lips are practically glued to your forehead, it makes you all warm and gooey on the inside. He’s a charming and affectionate guy, he’ll often give you hugs and kiss your hand, but this feels different. 

You try to push him off you but he tightens his hold on you. "I mean, what's your mom going to think of me? Think about it! It looks bad and you know it Buck. James!"

"Hmh."

"Your mom! She's gonna think we've been inappropriate!" You slap a hand to his chest, with his eyes closed he grabs it and presses a kiss to your knuckles. 

"Hm-hm, no. Ma knows my intentions with you are serious, respectful."

"Intentions?"

"She knows I love you, besides I'm waiting for your dad to get back from the war so I can ask for his blessing to–"

You don’t let him finish his sentence. "James, you love me?"

Bucky slowly blinks until he's less drowsy, a slow shy smile creeping on his lips and if the room wasn't as dark as it is you would see him blush. "Of course I do." He says as if it were obvious! 

Your heart beats so fast you're afraid it might combust. "You love? You love me. You love me…You never said anything, and Hodge–"

"I'm still gonna kick his ass for making you cry," Bucky interjects. “but I never said anything ‘cause Ma said that I should give you space, let you make your own decisions. If we’re meant to be, it'll work out.” 

"Your mom is a really smart woman.” You smile at him. For the sake of honesty you decide to tell Bucky the truth about what really happened with Hodge. “He was mad at me because I wouldn't kiss him. So he made it a point to humiliate and ridicule me. He even called me a prude. Jokes on him though, I mean, I am in bed with a guy who’s not even my boyfriend yet." You chuckled then sobered up, "I didn't kiss him because I didn't want to. Because I would prefer to kiss you."

"That can be arranged."

You halt him with a hand to his chest, "What ever happened to 'my intentions with you are serious'?"

"I seriously want to kiss you, Doll." Bucky admits.

You, in the blink of an eye, press your lips to his just for a second and immediately start giggling uncontrollably and hide under the blanket. 

Bucky yanks the blanket from you and takes a hold of your face, as if you were the most delicate thing he’s ever touched. He holds you so tenderly, in the darkness you manage to make out his eyes and his smile. “Can we do this the right way? Can I take you out on a date and kiss you?”

You want to tease him so badly but you stop yourself from doing it because of that sincere and determined look in his eyes. You find yourself nodding. “Yes.”

Bucky leans over and intwines your hands, bracing them by the side of your head. He gently presses his lips to yours in a soft kiss. When he pulls away he rests his forehead on yours, “I promise you, Doll, I will never hurt you.”

You let go of his hands and wrap your arms around his shoulders, “Oh Bucky.”

“God, you’re beautiful! I should tell you that more often.”

You two spend the rest of the night hugging and kissing each other. 

____________________________________________

When morning comes Bucky is halfway on top of you, face nestled against your neck while you run your fingers through his gorgeous brown hair. 

A banging on Bucky’s door breaks your bubble.

“James Buchanan Barnes, get out here right this second!!”

“Oh no. She Buchanan-ed me, she knows you’re here.” Bucky groans. 

#40s bucky #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes #friends to lovers #fluffy #teenage!Bucky

[povlvr]

8 • Savoury Encounters | YLGSE

Pairing: Mob Boss Bucky x Baker Reader

Summary: Getting your mind off the Mob Boss proves harder than it looks, a welcomed distraction comes from a new staff member downloading Tinder but will the date go well?

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: Swearing, NSFW, love bombing, betrayal, swearing, slightly horny thoughts, Mob Boss Bucky, Mob Business, stalking,

A/N: Thank you all for reading, I am never going to get over Seb’s look for the Sharper premier, it was everything I never knew I needed so I had to use the picture!!

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

[Previous Chapter] Next Chapter

After the late-night kitchen rendezvous you needed to get your mind off the mobster, anything to help stop yourself over analysing why you had been incredibly turned from your last encounter & why you kissed him back whenever his lips had touched yours, you weren’t willing to give him a pass on his behaviour, but your lips really couldn’t deny that you wanted him. 

A welcomed distraction came in the form of MJ, Peter’s wonderfully obtuse girlfriend who needed a job & just like her boyfriend she was way too smart to be working for you, however you snapped up her offer of assistance like it was gold dust. The sheer relief in having two such capable staff members meant you could actually leave the bakery during day light hours, finally return home at the end of the day & attempt to sort out your life somewhat.

Having Peter around really didn’t help your attempts to build you walls back up when it came to Bucky, especially with him constantly talking about the mobster paying for his tuition & what a good guy he was for doing it, thankfully MJ having been caught up with everything that happened between you would steer his enthusiasm back to less touchy subjects for you. 

You appreciated her unwavering stance that you could do better, most evenings she opted to stay after Peter had done the deliveries to sit with you as you prepped for the following day, helping when needed & meddling in your love life when not. Tinder had been downloaded to your phone after three days of her working in the bakery, she’d sit & swipe, let you dictate messages & ignore others on your behalf as though she was your dating fairy god mother.

Bucky wisely kept himself scarce, as requested the gifts stopped, a polaroid of the Mobster handing over a big novelty cheque to the children’s hospital arrived, you couldn’t help the smile taking over your face & perhaps keeping it on your desk probably wasn’t the best idea but he looked so grumpy & ridiculous in equal measures. Of course the flowers kept arriving, those were non-negotiable, but you didn’t much mind, it kept the bakery nicely topped up & your living space full of the joys of spring even if you didn’t quite feel it.

With business running smoothly you finally had time to focus on the absolute state of yourself, you decided to have an afternoon away from the bakery to indulge in a well needed manicure & haircut, annoyingly when it came to pay, Bucky had somehow already taken care of it, you wondered if you should you text him to say thank you? Another welcomed distraction to keep you from reaching for your phone was the Pilates class you had booked in an attempt to fix all the tension & knots in your muscles from the last few weeks of stress.

When you arrived at the studio the session was completely empty, there was just you & Sage your instructor which suited you just fine, she was expensive but the best, a one on one lesson felt like an absolute treat & she graciously tailored the workout to your ailments seen as though it was just the two of you.

After about 10 minutes of adjustments & stretches you heard the door to the studio open, you were concentrating on your manoeuvre with your leg high in the air supported by the stirrup, in warriors pause with your face angled down holding your core tight to stop you slipping.

The sight of two large feet appeared in your peripheral vision, they almost looked comical in the Pilates socks with the toes all separated wiggling under your gaze, you didn’t mind sharing the session of course, but they were standing far too closely for your liking, you kept your head down minding your business until the familiar scent hit you, it was unmistakable; spice, woods, peat, James.

‘Bunny.’

Maybe if you didn’t acknowledge him he wouldn’t actually be there? It wasn’t a good plan, but it was all you had, you weren’t so lucky of course & you felt his finger hook under your chin lifting it up to face him, there the pools of ocean were, staring at you hungrily, the crystal blue eyes you had missed … not missed, nothing’d … you nothing’d him.

Despite the socks, the sight before you was frustratingly hot, his usual suit was replaced with a black skin tight muscle tee, giving you the perfect view of his tattoo’d arm & firm abs, the basketball shorts however, were far too loose for your liking, surely Pilates should have a lycra only policy, for safety reasons?

‘Kind of concentrating here James.’ You voice strained as you worked to hold the machine steady, one slip & you’d fall flat on your face.

‘Can see that Sugar, just wanted to see those beautiful eyes.’

Sage came to your rescue slapping his arm away from you & ordering him to his area, you shot him a warning look, so that he would behave around the instructor, the last thing you wanted was to be banned from the only exercise you could stand. He positioned himself on his own apparatus, of course he was a natural & needed very few adjustments compared to you & of course he stared constantly at you making no subtleties about adjusting himself in his shorts when you happened to glance over, chuckling to himself as you rolled your eyes.

Coming to the end of your session you could almost forget who was next to you, once you had managed to block out his very audible grunting, did it turn you into a feral mess? Yes. Would you let it bother you? Also yes, but it wasn’t going to make you crumble, until he started to talk to you.

‘How’ve you been sweetheart.’

‘Fine.’

He chuckled at your very sharp response, he didn’t miss the subtle clenches & the imperceptible gulps after every groan he let out, you were flustered & he was going to make sure to capitalise on it, ‘Heard you finally have another pair of hands.’

‘I do.’

‘Working out for ya?’

‘Yep.’

‘Your hair looks nice.’

Your head shot to the side to glare at him angrily, he surrendered his hands, ‘Just sayin’, glad you’re taking care of yourself.’

‘Would have got a colour if I knew you were paying.’

‘Go back Sugar I’ll make sure there’s an appointment free.’

You cursed yourself for the corner of your mouth betraying you by almost smiling, he just looked so enthused & eager to please. Doubling down you stopped what you were doing folding your arms in somewhat of a huff ‘What you doing here Bucky?’

‘Working out, been in a few scuffles lately, really thrown out my balance.’

You rolled your eyes at his excuse, ‘& conveniently we so happen to be in the same place at the same time, all alone too;’

‘I hadn’t noticed.’

‘Sure you didn’t.’

‘What can I say, when you’re in the room all I can focus on is you.’

Damn he’s smooth.

‘Shame the same can’t be said for when I’m not in the room, hmm?’

The cockiness faltered on his face at your dig, then a little smirk right in the corner of his mouth appeared, he loved you challenging him & that you weren’t afraid to stand up to him. Dismounting his apparatus, he wiped down his glistening face, then approached crouching down in front of you, clutching your face as was customary when he was within touching distance.

‘I can’t begin to convey how sorry I am for that Bunny, I know I can’t take it back, but I can certainly show you that it will never happen again.’ The sincerity in his eyes captivated yours & his tongue darting out to wet his lips thoroughly had you in a trance. He stood you up & wrapped his arms around you in a tight firm hug, it felt incredibly comforting after a few weeks of feeling so unsettled, despite him being the one that caused it all a win was a win & a hug was a hug & he was so good at them. 

It felt incredible to have you in his arms again, he was trying to be patient & give you space but the thought of you in your Pilates outfit, bending over, stretching was too tempting to pass up so he booked all the slots in your session that were free, then got Clint to pay off the others so he’d have you all to himself & now you were here, in his arms. He could easily take another step & kiss you, but he didn’t want to push his luck & told himself you would make the move when you wanted it, it wasn’t fair on you to get so serious so quickly.

Instead he kissed your temple softly & with a ‘I’ll see you soon Bunny’ slipped out the studio. 

Discombobulated, that’s what he made you, from afar you could keep your composure, but up close you melted & then cursed yourself for it, why did he have to smell so good, why did he have to look so perfect all the time & why did he look even hotter with cuts & bruises?

All you were doing was getting him out your system, a simple dinner date with a Tinder match you had been talking with, or more accurately MJ had been talking with so there was no need to be nervous. Micky, … no Mike sounded & looked nice enough, but you just weren’t feeling it, cursing yourself for being hung up on someone who you shouldn’t be, you needed a pallet cleanse because said some set your body on fire whenever you thought about him, surely that would stop eventually, right?

You waited outside the restaurant for him to show up, your dress was cute, not too slutty not too boring, the perfect first date outfit you had picked out the day before, an outfit that Bucky somehow paid for. You didn’t quite know how he managed to orchestrate paying for literally anything you had to buy since the ménage à trois on his lap in the club, it was slightly impressing you at this point that whenever you went to check out you would be told the item had been paid for courtesy of Mr Barnes, groceries, coffees, tampons all bought & paid for by James.

You felt guilty he was buying your outfit for a date & even more guilty for wearing the emerald necklace but damn it, it went with everything & you know what fuck him, it serves him right. Your feelings towards him were a rollercoaster most of the time & you were beginning to own it, if he wanted to waste his money on you, so be it.

A subtle cough brought you out of your internal debating about the Mob Boss & you were met with your date stood in front of you, he was handsome enough, shorter than his profile let on & shorter than you would usually go for, but he had a kind smile & generally nice presence about him.

‘Wow, you are a knock out, they’ll be asking me how much I’m paying for ya.’

Your eyes went wide at the insinuation.

‘…. Not that you look like a hooker, just you are way outta my league.’

He was practically red as a tomato as he continued spluttering out words, you’d stop him, but you were speechless & not in a good way.

‘… not that there’s anything wrong with hookers, you just aren’t one … that I know of.’

You giggled, more so out of awkward pity than because it was funny, MJ was getting a text at the first possible second you could send it & if it got any worse you’d hit code red for Wanda to ring you with an emergency.

‘Relax, it’s fine, I knew what you meant.’ You gestured to the door, ‘shall we?’

He powered ahead letting himself through the door & barely kept it open for you as he walked into the restaurant, by no means were you old fashioned & expected men to open doors for you or even a staunch feminist who insisted on opening them yourself, but if you’re on a date you thought you should at least make sure you keep it open, otherwise it’s just rude. You brain was fighting the urge to compare & contrast him to Bucky, a man who literally sulked when you opened a door for yourself once before he had chance to hop out of the car & do it for you.

Still, you gave him the benefit of the doubt, maybe he was nervous & didn’t realise you nearly face planted the glass, the restaurant was a quaint Italian family run business, they were always your favourite type of places with the best kind of food, so you loved the suggestion & of course looked ahead on the menu to decide on what you were having. Unfortunately, he didn’t get the memo & when the waitress came to get your drink orders he swooped in & decided you were both having the set menu with water. 

Your shoulders slumped & you knew this would be a long night, how the hell could MJ think you would be compatible with the guy who ordered the set menu? You’d happily pay the bill if it meant you got the garlic rosemary ravioli & a nice glass of wine, maybe you should have offered before he opened his stupid mouth.  

Bucky had been sat watching the entire night, from the awkward meeting outside where he was sure he called you a hooker to the absolute cheap skate option inside, you were lowering your standards for him so he was on the brink of threatening to break the guy’s fingers to make him reach into his dust filled wallet & treat you how you should be treated. Instead, he took the high road, telling the waitress on her way to the kitchen to ignore what the chump ordered for you, he was self-aware enough to acknowledge that he was doing the exact same as your date by ordering your food for you, but after countless conversations he knew you would skip the starter, pick the ravioli & have two deserts plus a crisp white wine to compliment the main. 

He settled the bill with a generous tip adding a full bottle of wine extra for top ups, you look like you would need it with Mark, the accountant who made less than you, played squash every Tuesday & masturbated to missionary porn once a week. Peter had run a background check on him despite trying to protest that you’d be mad at him, all that came up was a parking ticket when he was 19, the only thing he was guilty of was having the audacity to message you, he was far too tame & vanilla for you, you needed fire.

You were already bored with the very dull conversation on offer when the waitress approached, she practically slammed a glass of water by him & then your eyes lit up as a very full glass of wine was placed gently in front of you.

Your date almost looked incensed at the mistake like it was the end of the world if you had a glass of wine, ‘She didn’t order this, we’re not paying for it.’

You scoffed at the we’re, if we’re paying for it, you better believe I’m going to be drinking it pal.

The waitresses very sour expression towards him turned almost gleeful as she said ‘I believe the bill has already been settled.’

Your blood ran somewhat cold, not chilly enough to forgo tasting the drink sat in front of you of course, but your eyes darted around the restaurant over the glass as subtly as possible until they landed on a pair of azure ones staring at you, their owner looking mightily pissed off. Your face muscles were working overtime to stifle your smile as you enjoyed the crisp fresh cold delight you had been served, you didn’t know why he was there, or how he knew you were there, but you were going to find out, was it weird you were looking forward to shouting at him?

The waitress added with a smirk, ‘Your meal has been changed to the à la carte menu.’

Mike looked angrier & angrier at you, like you had secretly switched his choices to the expensive ones, ‘Why, what is going on, who the hell switched it?’

You took a big swig of the liquid in your glass for a bit of courage before dabbing the corners of your mouth with your napkin & getting up from the table, ‘Excuse me for a second will you, just need to wash my hands before we eat.’

Walking towards the bathroom you knew you would pick up a shadow on the way, were you even mad? You didn’t know the honest answer, the dullness of the date certainly had taken an interesting turn & there might have been a sight thrill running through your veins at the prospect of another encounter with the Mob Boss but on the other hand him showing up everywhere was entering stalker territory & that needed to stop.

You didn’t even have time to berate him before he pinned you against the wall, ‘Him? Really Bunny?’

‘Don’t fucking start Bucky, what the fuck are you doing here?’

‘Making sure you’re being treated properly; you wanted the ravioli right?’

He looked so smug as he leaned in, practically connecting your mouths as you were pressed into the wall & that magnetism you felt pulled you to the brink of just surrendering to it, you wanted him to just take you at this point, you could feel your whole-body pulsing from the anticipation. The waitress stood watching & you didn’t even care, he could have fucked you against the wall & you’d let her watch if it meant you could have him at that very second.  What was wrong with you?

You nodded, noses brushing & despite you trying your best to not encourage his crazy behaviour you threw him a bone, ‘thank you for the food & the wine.’

‘Will always take care of you sweetheart, I’m letting you have your space Bunny & letting you have your fun but know that I’m not happy about this. I think you enjoy torturing me, I told you you’re mine.’ He closed the gap & finally connected your lips in a heated exchange, you should have pushed him away, you should have stopped yourself moaning into his mouth & clutching his face in your hands, but you didn’t, you allowed him to take over until you finally pulled away.

‘Crashing my date isn’t giving me space.’ You gestured to the table raising your brow ‘& you call that fun?’ You slipped out of his grasp & walked back to your date without so much of a glance back in his direction knowing he wouldn’t be far behind. 

There was no way in hell Bucky would let you have the last word after that scorching kiss, that pathetic cheap skate you were with needed to know you were off limits so he was hot on your tail weaving through the restaurant, the satisfaction of seeing Miles’ face freeze in fear was more satisfying than it would be killing him.

With not so much of an invite he pulled out a chair & sat down next to you at the table, ‘Enjoying yourselves?’

Glancing towards him you gritted your teeth, yeah, the date was boring & you’d never see him again, but you didn’t want him getting himself killed for saying the wrong thing, ‘Bucky, be nice.’

‘Why? Wasn’t behaving back there was I Bunny?’ 

You swiftly elbowed him in his side.

‘Who’s Bunny?’

Bucky clenched his jaw that the imbecile dared speak in his presence, ‘The stunning woman you somehow think you’re good enough to go with on a date with, doesn’t she look beautiful tonight? Forgot to tell you earlier Sugar, the dress, the hair, the necklace, exquisite.’

‘Ye-yes she does, still don’t understand the Bunny.’

As monotone & menacing as possible he spat out, ‘Her bakery is called Honey Bunny’s Bakery.’

‘I – I didn’t know.’ You closed your eyes at that admission, you’re on your own Miles, told you about 3 times.

‘You didn’t know it was called that or you didn’t know she had a bakery.’ It suddenly felt like an interrogation, you wondered what was wrong with you for being so attracted to his absolute dominance over another man. 

‘th … the second one.’

He fully turned to you, ‘Jesus, I’ll say it again, him really?’

You were trying not to smile at the incredulous expression on his face or the inflection in his voice, ‘Enough James, leave us to our date & I will see you soon.’

‘Music to my ears gorgeous.’ He leaned down pressing a kiss on the top of your head & you couldn’t take your eyes off him as he left with a panty dropping wink.

You turned back to Mike, the awkwardness even more awkward than ever, silence hung over you both before you spoke up, ‘Sorry about that, just ignore him’

‘Spend a lot of time with Mob Bosses?’

‘I aim not to, he can’t take no for an answer.’ 

‘Clearly. How do you know him?’

You sighed, you came on this date to try & distract yourself yet somehow were now being questioned about him, ‘It’s a long story.’

The waitress was back handing him the pate starter, you shuddered at the thought of eating it, thanking the food gods for Bucky switching your order.

He suddenly looked smug & it didn’t suit his face at all, ‘Didn’t even bother to get you a starter.’

You nodded, ‘mm-huh, he knows I wouldn’t want one.’ You resisted crossing your arms in an annoyed huff for thinking Bucky didn’t know you well enough to order you one, why were you so defensive about him all of a sudden?

‘So he knows you well?’

You shrugged, yes, ‘No, not that well, he just pays attention.’

‘Well you’re missing out this is incredible.’

You didn’t do a good job of hiding the disgust on your face at him calling meat paste incredible, as he crunched it through his teeth on the French toast, each to their own but really? MJ was officially fired as your dating fairy godmother.

The rest of the date was as dull as dishwater, he was just so bland & you noticed the judgemental eyes when the two desserts landed on the table that Bucky had ordered & you subsequently devoured. You felt like slapping him across the face with the fact that you own a bakery, you make desserts for a living so of course you like to try as many as possible for inspiration & you didn’t need him assessing your figure like he was calculating some kind of equation about cakes eaten to the power of body weight divided by age in which she’ll let herself go, ugh. 

Standing on the sidewalk in the brisk air you were planning your getaway, ‘Thanks for a nice night’

‘Hmm yeah. Look. I’ve been thinking it over & I think it’s best if we leave it here.’

You weren’t at all bothered at the thought it never seeing his boring ass again but pretty pissed that you didn’t get to tell him that first. 

He must have thought you were struggling to comprehend it as you seethed internally, ‘Yeah I mean I don’t want to end up missing a finger or be found in the Hudson. Your Bucky Barnes’ girl.’

‘I am not his girl. Don’t listen to him’ why were you sounding like you were desperate & wanted another date, you absolutely didn’t but didn’t want him to have the final say, you wanted to be the dumper not the dumpee.

‘Who gave you the necklace?’

You rolled your eyes, ‘Him. Why does that matter?’ 

‘Look you’re nice & all but just not work the risk, maybe if you were a bit more interesting you would be, but you aren’t.’

He practically ran away down the street, You. We’re. Pissed & needed to shout at someone, there was only one person on your radar that very moment. 

You flew in his office, not bothering to knock or to be welcomed in, there was a drink poured waiting for you & you were on the brink of throwing it at him, instead you downed it, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you gasped & grimaced from the taste.

He stood in his all-black outfit, the turtleneck with the tailored suit was a lethal combination, without the trench coat he had on earlier you could see the shape of his physique better & with his beard growing out wonderfully he looked the sexiest you’d seen him. You suddenly regretted coming, being alone in his office wasn’t the best idea especially when just the sight of him made you want to get down on your knees.

You powered through those thoughts, ‘This is my actual life, not some fucking movie James, you need to accept that I said no & stop whatever it is that you’re doing. The paying for everything, showing up everywhere, threatening my dates, it’s got to stop.’

‘No.’

‘It’s not a question. We’re not children James, you can’t just pull my pigtails for attention & expect me to come running.’ 

He reached out to pull you closer, ‘You into that sort of thing Sugar, I can tug on your hair til you’re screaming.’

‘Don’t.’ You managed to keep him at bay, arm’s length, arm’s length, arm’s length.

‘Come on Bun, give me a break, I see someone with my girl I’m not going to sit & do nothing especially when he’s not treating her right, did he call you a hooker?’

‘Firstly, I’m not your girl, so don’t even go there, & the hooker thing was because he was nervous & insinuated people would think he paid for me, that wasn’t even the worst bit.’

‘What did he do?’

‘Said I wasn’t interesting enough to take the risk of being with me, like I’d waste my time on him.’

‘I’ll fucking kill him.’

‘No, you won’t. If you hadn’t have turned up, I wouldn’t have gone on another date with him, he wasn’t good enough for me.’

‘Well, we can all agree on one thing, don’t pretend you didn’t like me happening to be there, switching your food & our kiss.’

‘So, you just happen to be there? hmm why were you even there & the truth, you couldn’t have seen him call me a hooker from inside the restaurant.’

 ‘Ok, don’t get mad, I’ve been having a couple of my men keep tabs on you, just so I know you’re safe.’

You stepped further back from him, mind in overdrive trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle that had been bugging you all week, it suddenly all made sense, ‘That’s how you kept paying for my appointments & clothes.’

‘Gotta say Bunny it took a lot not to lose it knowing I was paying for a dress for a date with another man, in fact, take it off so I can throw it in the fire, you’re not wearing that again.’

‘Don’t you even dare try & say something like that to me, did I ask you to buy it for me? Jesus what is wrong with you? One day you’re nice & normal & then the next a stalking possessive weirdo.’

‘It’s not stalking if I don’t do it personally Bunny.’

‘Of course it is you idiot, you’re telling me you’ve never stopped by & watched me at work?’

He stepped closer, eyes darkening as he yet again pulled you into him, brushing your hair behind your ear, leaning in, ‘Of course I have.’

‘See stalker.’

‘Oof you’re smart, just making sure you’re safe, can’t sleep if I don’t know you’re safe, you really shouldn’t take the subway, let me get you a driver.’

You shook your head again fighting yourself not to smile, ‘How can you say such nice things & at the same time be so widely inappropriate.’

‘You drive me crazy Sugar.’

‘Ditto.’

Your mouths found each other, frantically devouring one another like they were your last moments on earth, hands roaming around, feeling like he was too close yet not close enough, you needed to leave before you gave in completely.

His face looked pained when you pulled away, chasing your lips with his to taste you that second longer but you managed to evade them shaking your head & returning to your senses. ‘I should go.’

It felt like déjà vu seeing MJ bright eyed & bushy tailed waiting outside the bakery to hear the gossip from your date & as much as you were trying not to, you were missing Yelena. MJ & Peter were a literal god send & incredibly fun to work with, their dynamic complimented yours completely but sometimes, you needed someone to boss you into doing tasks you were avoiding or someone to tell you to get a grip. 

‘So, how’d it go?’

You crouched down to unhook the roller shutters, straining as you wiggled the latch whilst explaining your catastrophically disastrous evening to the person somewhat responsible, ‘Let’s see, he insinuated I was a hooker, ordered the set menu & water for me, Bucky showed up & reordered my meal but there was wine that time, he both annoyed & impressed me that he got it spot on, so that bit was fine I guess, then when I went to shout at him, he pinned me against a wall, kissed me, paid for the meal, then made it clear to Miles ..’

‘Mike.’ 

‘Yeah Mike, that I was his so stay away & then the guy, who was the worst by the way proceeded to tell me I wasn’t worth the hassle then ran away. Literally took off down the street as fast as his shorter than advertised legs could carry him.’

She grimaced as you finished off rattling off the disastrous evening, ‘Jesus.’

‘Yeah, then I stormed into the Mob Boss’ office, shouted at him, he told me he stalks me in not so many words, we kissed again, I left & here I am.’

Just as you finished your rant you opened the door to the bakery, squinting in the darkness you could see something wasn’t right, your foot hit something not quite solid not quite soft, blindly feeling for the panel you turned on the switch & illuminated the bakery.

The entire floor was covered in bouquets of flowers, on every single surface there was a floral display of some sort, every type of flower available to man upon your initial assessment, somehow amongst the chaos you could tell there was a disproportionate amount of your favourite flowers compared to the rest.

‘I don’t think we need to guess as to who did this?’

You laughed, ‘Clearly Mikey’

‘Mike.’

‘Yeah him. Jesus, definitely not Bucky.’

‘Now seems like a good time to see if you can get him to pay for my tuition too, the man has got it bad.’

‘I’ll see what I can do.’ You laughed trying to wrap your mind around what you were looking at & how you could deal with it. ‘What the fuck, what the fuck are we meant to do with all of these flowers? There’s barely any room to move.’

MJ stood working out a path she could take to the counter knowing turning the coffee machine & making you one was the priority while you got your plan sorted in your head, ‘You don’t seem very mad, I can see your smile trying to escape, don’t pretend it isn’t.’

‘It’s not from happiness, I am freaking out right now.’

‘How did he even get in?’

‘Peter?’

‘No, he tries not to tell him anything when he rings everyday to check on you.’ MJ slapped her hand across her mouth like it was some sort of secret, of course he did. You had thought maybe Peter was the one telling him where you were going all the time, so that he could ring ahead & pay but after the conversation the previous night you knew differently, maybe they were still watching.

‘I guessed he was a mole the second he turned up the day after Bucky had his lap dance.’

‘What we gonna do with all these? there’s no room for customers.’

You stood tapping your head, as though a plan would formulate by magic, ‘Ok first things first, we run a promotion free flowers with every coffee if people want them, I’ll update the sign outside. Ring Peter, he can deliver some to the hospital & to the old folks place who order from us a lot, we’ll keep a few in here but the majority can go outside the front for people to take & then I’ll take a few for upstairs.’

‘On it boss,’ her phone was at her ear instantaneously as you slowly tried to create a path to any areas you needed.’ When you managed to gain entrance to your office the biggest bouquet sat on your desk with yet again another note & black velvet box.’

‘Bunny, I didn’t mean to upset you by, in my own way trying to keep you safe & taken care of. It’s not my intention to stalk you or make you uncomfortable, I know you don’t want me to come by & visit so it’s my way of making sure you’re ok & to spend that minute of time I wish I could with you, it’s my little moment of peace in the day when I get to look at your beautiful face. Every single petal on every single flower can’t even represent how sorry I am. I will make sure you are always safe, but I will try my best to not cross anymore boundaries when doing so. Please accept these earrings to go with your necklace, don’t think I’ve not noticed that you wear it every day & that very thought keeps my heart beating.’

You wondered how a man could be so entirely sweet one minute & then wildly inappropriate the next, like there was some dark entity within him that came out at night or whenever you challenged him, yes it was hot, but it gave you whiplash most of the time. He was just so intense & it was addictive because you should have been overwhelmed by it all & want to run the other way, but you could feel a part of you fighting out all reasoning & logic to just go with it.

You shook it off, he may be breaching some walls you’d erected but you couldn’t help being pissed off at the extra work of clearing up the shop would take, plus prayed that none of your customers had a pollen allergy, they’d go into anaphylactic shock the second they walked through the front door.

A hectic morning later you finally had some respite, your customers thankfully lapped up the freebies on offer with their orders, you saw fresh faces once word had spread & the number of bouquets had reduced drastically. You slipped out once it had quietened down & plucked a particular bunch off the side, you didn’t visit his grave often, you were surrounded by him everyday enough, talking to him when it got that bit too quiet at night but if ever there were a good excuse it was today. 

Of course, Bucky had already been, or whoever flower bombed your existence on his behalf, there on your father’s headstone sat a huge bunch of sunflowers, you were quickly learning that you really couldn’t escape the Mob Boss but is a man who goes to such lengths to prove himself someone you should be escaping? 

The smile on your face was the first time you probably had ever felt an ounce of happiness stood there, of course you wish your dad was around to tell you to get a grip of yourself & that he wasn’t good enough for you, but he’d say that of anyone. You found a headstone that looked a little neglected & took the time to remove some of the old flowers & moss that had grown setting down the surplus bunch in your hands, taking a little moment to look over the name & details of who you were giving the flowers to before you headed back to the bakery.

Bucky had stopped by to hopefully drop in when it was a little quieter, he loved that you changed your sign & gave away most of the flowers, everyone said it was a bad idea, but he didn’t care, he knew it would brighten your day a little at least. Somewhat expectedly you nipped out to the graveyard not far from your business, he may have spent a moment with your dad when he lay out the flowers, promising to look after you, to be better & the man you deserved. The smile on your face when you saw them made him almost get out & cash in on the good will but sitting in his car, he realised he didn’t need to, knowing you appreciated the gesture & paid it forward for someone else’s absent loved ones was enough. Before you could spot him, he started his engine & drove away, having been completely micro focused on every expression on your face, your body language & his general fixation on you he was oblivious to the two men in an unmarked car watching him, watching you.

They had seen the day unfold having heard from some sources that the King of Brooklyn had found his Queen, the abundance of flowers & him showing up confirmed the rumours, now all they needed to do was be patient & wait.

Your day was finally coming to a close, you had sent MJ & Peter on a delivery run, the odd customer was floating about & you were fine cleaning around them hoping they’d get the hint that you were closing soon, as you were taking stock of supplies underneath the counter you heard the bell ring, you popped your head up to tell whoever it was that you were closing, but you noticed the empty bakery save for the two gentlemen in pinstripe suits making their way over to you.

A/N

Thank you for reading!! Let me know what you think will happen!!

TAG List:

@matchat3a @hallecarey1 @oliverqueen66-blog@broadwaybabe18@meowmeowyoongles @abaker325 @glows-n-the-dark @barnesml @getofffmydick @omegaevans @cjand10 @pono-pura-vida @stoneyggirl2 @winters1917 @rowaelin4ever12 @theecharlotteyork @saranghaey @ace-27749 @calwitch

#mob bucky au #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky barnes #mob boss #fluffy bucky #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #words #writing #fanfic #marvel fanfic series #marvel fanfiction #the winter soldier #winter soldier

[geeky-politics-46]

Sneak peeks for Sacrifices - Part 4! I couldn't decide on just one, so you are getting like 4, lol:

- Vincent literally follows his dad around now as he performs his sorcerer's duties.

- Sexy time with Stephen in his favorite position as discussed in part 3 😉

- Bucky will be having a bigger part in the next couple parts.

- Bucky has developed a tendency of interrupting your naughty time with Stephen more often then your actual 5 year old. Stephen hates it.

#sacrifices #doctor strange #stephen strange #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange smut #stephen strange smut #stephen strange x you #doctor strange x you #dr. stephen strange #doctor strange fanfiction #fluffy doctor strange #doctor strange fluff #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #post endgame #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #doctor stephen strange #doctor strange x y/n #stephen strange x y/n #doctor strange x female reader

[thismustbefakeme]

Bucky/Reader- pronouns not specified

“James?”

Bucky feels his heart jump at the sound of his name on your lips. He’d pay ever dollar he has to hear you say it again��at this point he’s well on his way to doing exactly that.

He’d been coming to this diner every morning for the past 3 weeks. Ever since he’d walked past the window one morning—in a rush to get to his mandated therapy—and spotted you standing behind the register.

“Thank you,” He says stepping up to the counter.

Your smile just about does him in when he reaches out for the cup you have outstretched towards him.

“Hope it warms you up!” You laugh softly gesturing to the snowy New York City street outside the window.

Bucky doesn’t mention that he’s warm enough after he made sure the flesh of his right hand brushed yours when he took the to-go cup.

Nor does he insist that the soft blush on your cheeks after he flashed a cautious grin, would keep him warm the rest of the walk home.

He hasn’t gotten up the courage to ask you on a date yet, let alone reveal his pitiful crush.

“Thanks doll,” He murmurs softly with a tilt of the cup warming his palm.

He’s halfway out the door when he hears your voice calling after him, “Same time tomorrow?”

He nods with a wave and heads out into the freezing weather, he puts the cup to his lips and allows the smallest bit of hot liquid to coat his tongue.

The bitterness hits him and he forces back a gag, the next closest trash bin is the destination for the putrid drink.

You make the worst coffee in New York City—he’s sure of it—but your secret is safe with him.

#bucky barnes #fanfiction #bucky x reader drabble #fluffy bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #bucky imagines #bucky x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #drabble #bucky barnes/you

[fallingforunrealisticromance]

MASTERLIST:

Will try my best to keep it updated!!

Requests

Prompts

*************************

Doctor Who:

11:

Causalities and confessions - Summary: The doctor gets into trouble on one of his adventures, luckily you're there to patch him up.

Let me take care of you - Summary: You're a headstrong, mother hen of the group. You always look after everyone without hesitation. But what happens when an adventure goes wrong, leaving you shake and in need of support?

By your side forever - Summary: The doctor feels himself losing hope at the constant return of his worst enemy, but you remind him he's not alone. Based on S5 Ep3 Victory of the darleks.

I should hate you - Summary: When your brother and his wife get taken by the weeping angels, the doctor is the only person you can turn to. Based on S7 Ep5 The angels take Manhattan. Reader is Rory's sibling.

Dream Lord? - The doctors true feelings about himself surface in a battle between reality and the subconscious. Based on S5 Ep7 Amy's choice

Past Versions - you have a run in with an oddly familiar face. Based on S7 Ep16 The day of the doctor.

10:

Send you away - After a trip ends up with you being captured, Teh doctor starts to question his ability to protect you.

Marvel:

Loki:

Safety - Nightmares aren't uncommon for you. But when a particularly graphic one wakes you up, you find comfort in none other than your favourite Norse god.

Freedom of the fall - The tension between tony and steve results to be too much for you. Based during civil war.

Suffocated

Losing Game - You and loki were a losing game, right from the beginning. And you've reached your breaking point.

Bucky Barnes:

Time to heal - For months, you had hated the avengers for what they'd put you through. You never planned on seeing them again. Until you ended up on the same rooftop.

I don’t hate you - A lonely nights in the avengers compound turns out to be the best time to bare your heart to someone.

Tony Stark:

Stay with me - The team has recently found out about your anxiety and panic attacks. Tony refuses to let you suffer alone.

Criminal Minds:

Aaron Hotchner:

Shot for love - An accident on a case makes you realise just how much you care for your boss.

As much as me - Your darkest thought resurfaces at the worst time. Luckily, you're not alone.

You matter - A personal connection to a case takes its toll on you. Aaron reminds you the importance of sharing your burdens.

Dance with me? - With the threat of Garcia's royal ball themed party, Hotch takes it upon himself to make sure you're well prepared.

Just so i could call you mine Pt2 Pt3 (Complete) - Hotch chooses to believe Haley over you when it comes to your relationship, causing you to lose the man you love.

Derek Morgan:

I’ve got you Pt2 Pt3 (Complete) - Being friends with BAU agents can come with complications. And when one of those arrives at your doorstep, Derek is there to help.

Spencer Reid:

Look at me - Something about this case hadn't sat right with you, and you couldn't figure out why. Until it all came crashing down.

BBC Sherlock:

Hold me - Sherlock doesn't realise how touch starved he truly is until he meets you.

High for love Pt2 - Sherlocks using again and you have to look after him. But what happens when he says something he probably wasn't supposed to?

The men you meet Pt2 - Your feelings for sherlock are driving you insane. In an attempt to get over him, you agree to a date with a guy you meet at a coffee shop. However, this seems to bring more harm than good. (Ongoing series)

NBC Hannibal:

Held through the darkness - You didn't realise how much you needed the comfort of your former psychiatrist

#11th doctor x reader #11th doctor x you #doctor who #matt smith #matt smith x reader #the doctor #tardis #criminal minds #bau #aaron hotch x reader #derek morgan x reader #spencer reid x reader #marvel #tony x y/n #tony stank #tony x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns fanfiction #loki layfeyson x you #loki of asgard #loki x reader #masterlist #sherlock fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #fluffy