#bucky barnes idiots in love | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovelybarnes · 1 year

Text

Sadistic- B. Barnes

Pairings: bucky barnes x reader, other characters make an appearance but it’s mainly natasha romanoff Warnings: mean bucky kind of, mutual pining, teasing, reader being flustered, super projection of my obsession with peanuts right now About: request! Bucky and reader didn’t get along and then bucky discovers she has a sensitive neck and basically uses it against her.

Bucky notices you before he sees you.

You’re hidden behind the kitchen island with your legs crossed beneath you and your fingertips grazing the tiles, the few stray strands of hair peeking past the granite of the counter giving you away.

He contemplates turning back nearly immediately, your presence pushing him out of a room as much as it is pulling him in, but it’s sheer greed that makes him lean on his feet, standing at a subtle angle to get even a brief look at you.

Your eyes are glassy and unfocused when he meets them, puckering aimlessly with the arrival of a crease between your brows. He shifts awkwardly in the entrance of the common room, watching you cautiously.

You don’t seem to notice his attention at all, eerily still and uncharacteristically distracted. Bucky should clear his throat, ask if you’re okay, but he hasn’t said something so kind to you in a while, and he’s unwilling to do so now.

What he should do, grounded in stupid values and teenage pride, is set his shoulders, stop squinting to see the outline of your lashes, and push past you to get to the fridge. You’re the one on the ground. He’s an innocent, thirsty bystander who has been looking forward to the cucumber water in the fridge all day.

He pauses, moves his limbs a little to see if you notice. If you do, maybe you’ll push yourself away from smack-dab middle, or maybe your eyes will widen in that sweet, apologetic way they do, where your lashes pinch at the corners in guilt, voice starting in an excuse he’ll scowl at, forcing yours to twist down wrongly at his reaction.

He can admit he’s selfish when you don’t waver and he stays put. Crassly, he leans against the wall and lets his pupils drag down your profile. He flushes immediately with heat and wishes you would rise to your feet and scold him for staring. He isn’t sure what sick part of him would like that most.

But you stay like that for a while, and when you do notice him, it’s an entirely underwhelming consequence. Your shoulders jump only barely and you offer him a vacant blink.

“Hey, Bucky.”

Your voice is quieter than usual but just as sordidly kind.

He grunts in response, setting his attention away from you and pretending like it was never there to start. You shift away when he steps in front of you, narrowly missing your nail. You frown down at your hands, glancing up at Bucky’s back.

He hears you stand, the soft sound your fingers make against the cupboard and the inhale you take. You twist your mouth and squeeze your fingers, eyes on him from your distance. He doesn’t turn to you.

“What’re you looking for?” you ask after a few seconds.

“Water.”

“Water,” you repeat. “The cucumber one? I’m so sorry, I just grabbed the last bit.”

He makes a low noise, shutting the refrigerator. “It’s fine.”

“No, no,” you argue, turning around to pull a mug from behind the fruit bowl. It’s chipped at the rim, with a pale yellow handle and thin vertical indents around its body. A bumpy orange mushroom is embossed over green blades of grass. You hook your middle and index fingers through the handle and hold it out to him expectantly. “You can have it.”

Bucky shifts on his feet, hands down at his sides. He wants to start kindly. “No.”

You blink at him. “Are… are you sure? I don’t think you’ve had very much. I haven’t drank from it at all, I promise. I just poured it before I…”

Bucky thinks he should ask. “‘M sure.”

You nod slowly, setting the mug down. There’s something hesitant and wanting over your features, a small crease back between your brows. “Okay then.” You offer him a smile, a little awkward but nonetheless pretty. He needs to go. “I can bring you some more? I usually buy it from this little vendor on Saturday, but I can make an early stop.”

“That’s okay.”

You chew on your cheek. “Maybe you want to go with me?”

He freezes. “What?”

You take in a big gulp of air, shoulders pushed back gently. “I feel like…” You chew your lip, mulling. Your eyes twinkle sadly. “We don’t really spend too much time together. And I’d like to.”

Bucky can feel heat creep awfully up his neck, a stabbing warmth in his chest. He needs to reject you right now.

You seem to read his mind, stepping backward and bumping into the counter. “You don’t have to—” You stumble over your feet in your efforts to give him space.

His hands shoot out to wrap around your forearms, pulling you upright. Your eyes are rounded, mouth still caught in an assurance, warm fingers twisted below his wrists to hook loosely on the hill of his pisiform.

He swallows, stepping back like your touch burned him. “No thanks.”

You frown, not wanting to push but feeling like you need to. You swallow the step he’d put between you. “Please? I promise I’ll make it fun. There are a lot of things there, maybe you could find Steve’s birthday gift.”

Bucky inhales shortly. “I got it already.”

He begins to sidestep you, a scorching buzzing he never realized was prickling beneath his skin finally beginning to ease. You grasp his arm and it peaks so high, he stops breathing for a second. The twinkle has come back, more melancholy than he remembered. Your lips pucker, eyebrows edging down. “Do you not like me?”

Bucky pauses, overwhelmed by the heat of your fingers. “What?”

Your teeth dig into your lip, thumb beginning to rap against the flat edge of his palm. He blinks. “You don’t seem to like me very much. Which is fine—I just… did I do something wrong?” Your voice closes on a mournful crest, features already sorry as your fingers continue their frantic dance on his skin. “I didn’t mean to.”

“No. Why would you think that?”

You frown. “You never talk to me unless you have to, you leave the room the moment I come in.”

“That’s not true.”

You cock your head at him, a little exasperated. “Bucky.”

“Fine.” He sighs, meeting eyes with your concern again. A beat passes. “Let’s go,” he says.

Your face lights up, although hesitant. “Really? Honest, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Really. Maybe I’ll get something else for Steve.”

You bounce gently on the balls of your feet, fingers looping tightly around his wrist. “Thank you. We’ll have fun, I promise.”

“Sure,” he says, rubbing the slope of his nose when you finally step back with a pretty smile. His wrist burns delightfully; he has to hold himself back from prodding at it with his fingers.

You stare at him for another second, eyes crinkling at their edges. “I’ll be right back. We’ll leave in ten minutes, is that okay?”

“Sure,” he repeats, watching you bound toward the elevator. Your lips are pinched tightly when you turn around, the bubbled highs of your cheeks betraying what you try to smother.

When the elevator doors shut, he lets his eyes fall closed, dropping his head onto one hand. His pointer finger brushes against the skin you’d held, eliciting a lovely glittering where you’d rubbed the pads of your fingers.

His elbow bumps into something cold and fragile, which he looks down to see is your mug, quietly inched closer to him. Hesitantly, he loops a finger around the handle, lifting the smooth edge up to his mouth. You were right, the water is fresh and sweet.

He falls into the couch disappointedly to wait for you, letting his head tilt back and attention rest on the ceiling. His index strokes the handle with wobbly, hesitant lines, running over the movements of your own fingers in the bumps and ridges of the mug. Your ownership is painfully present, predictably foreign on Bucky’s tongue, yet not at all wrong where he has felt it most.

It’s not what Bucky expected.

He puts it down on the table, hoping the delicate circular teetering grounds him. It doesn’t.

You’re frantic when you push the door to your room open, entirely crammed with worries.

Your hair has refused to cooperate all morning, the shirt you’d pulled on has a tiny hole you hope Bucky didn’t notice, and your pants are a size too big, the stretchy bottom part of the left leg pulled up to the thick of your calf.

You try to remember whether or not you washed your nice jeans the day before, fingers deftly pushing away hangers and leaving only an ugly screeching sound that you can’t bother to notice.

You don’t think Bucky likes you. In the decent amount of time you’d known him—a fraction of it with a word count—you had, at the very least, been reassured that he didn’t hate you. Bucky doesn’t seem to spend too much time hating in the icky, false sense of the word, not when he has so many possible receptors with real and raw reasoning.

You hold a shirt up to the light like it’ll help determine Bucky’s thoughts about it. Would he have any?

You shove the shirt back inside your closet and pull another off the hanger, stretching out the collar irresponsibly. Bucky seems to wear a lot of red. Is it because he likes it or has someone commented on how much it brings out his eyes?

You don’t think Bucky likes you. You’re determined to get him to.

He was wearing something red today. You pull on a pretty vermillion blouse with wide sleeves and a high neckline and try not to feel silly. Your foot taps nervously against the floor as you try to decide on earrings, taking a glance along the rows you have before you crouch down to pull on your shoes, browsing the image you’d caught in your mind.

When you straighten, it feels as if entirely too much time has passed by, your head leady, vision thinned briefly. You decide on the Snoopy earrings you’d bought last week. Tiny, crescent-eyed Woodstock goes on your left ear and tiny, lovesick Snoopy goes on your right. He must know them, right?

You don’t look in the mirror before you leave, too confident that your reflection would send you tumbling back into your closet, slipping your choice off your earlobes. Your forefinger hooks on the bottom of your shirt, tugging down as you watch yourself in the closed doors of the elevator.

Slowly, you inhale. Exhale. Realize you’d closed your eyes and the doors are now open.

The pads of your fingers meet Snoopy’s small clay-lump-legs and you remember that you’re being ridiculous.

Calmer now, you prance over to Bucky, blinking at his shut eyes, body leant against the couch.

“Bucky?” you call. You bend at the waist, searching for a sign of life until your nose is very, very close to his. “Are you okay?” you whisper, unsure why.

Bucky startles anyway, meeting your fresher face. He has thoughts on the shirt.

He clears his throat. “Fine.”

You pull back, crossing your arms. “Did I make you wait long?” you stress, watching him get to his feet.

“No.”

You want to make a joke. You know what Sam would do—poke at his age, ask if the century was finally catching up. You contemplate it too long.

Bucky eyes the bag hanging from the crook of your elbow. You tilt it inconspicuously, flashing stupid buttons and silly pins. Bucky clears his throat. “Should we go?”

“Yes,” you say hurriedly, following after him as he heads to the elevator. It’s silent inside and all the way to the car, where you exchange a stilted smile for a glance when you plug in your phone with the address.

Your thigh shakes the entire ride, slowing momentarily for awkward, brief conversations when the silence gets too unbearable. You think about comfortable silence and how this is not it, icky regret crawling up your throat. You feel sticky and stupid.

“I like your earrings,” Bucky says unprompted. You’re too surprised to do much else than stare, thanking him after too long.

“You like Snoopy?”

He nods. You contemplate more questions, but he seems satisfied with his contribution.

You stare down at your bag the rest of the time, a finger tracing a big, glittery button from a goose race you never went to.

Bucky’s presence is too professional at the stands. He handles himself overly bodyguard-like around you, watching you pick things up with care and interact with vendors from just next to the tents. Rarely does he touch something himself.

You fiddle with a small notebook, catching his eye. You smile when he reads your mind, stepping over to your side to see over your shoulder. Half of his body is close enough to pull sparks from your opposite side. You try your best to concentrate.

“Steve,” you explain, twisting the little sketchbook around. He hums, the noise accompanied by a warm puff of air against the thin skin of your neck. You still completely, goosebumps rising immediately. You pray he doesn’t notice.

Of course Bucky does. He watches your chest still and can’t help the rise of the left edge of his lip. Experimentally, he blows a soft line along your neck.

You flinch, fingers going slack. Bucky reaches for the book before it can thump on the table, his eyes crinkled. You’re too distracted to notice the amusement on his face.

He hums. “That’s a good choice for Stevie.”

“Y-yeah.” You clear your throat, taking a step back but bumping into him. Your skin is delightfully warm even through his jacket, sharp tingles only tendered by your sweet chagrin.

Graciously, he steps aside, meeting your eyes and raising the book between his index and middle fingers. The buttons of the bag hanging off his wrist sparkle in the sunlight. He smiles, suddenly a lot less hesitant than this morning. “Found my present.”

You nod, leaving him to pay as you raise your hand to your collarbone, the pads of your fingers brushing over the goosebumps above the collar of your shirt.

You shiver again and wonder.

You’re anxious for more.

Bucky’s interactions with you are usually dismally brief. He says hi when you prompt him, returns tight smiles, and indulges your questions using as few words as possible. Last time, it was ten. The time before, five. Your peak is sixteen.

On the next movie night, you come downstairs half an hour before and claim a doughy two-person couch, sprawling a silky blanket over one side. You pop two bags of popcorn and stress that you made them too early, overcompensating with a variety of candy. It’s spread out with great care, the cushions adjusted, the furniture itself repositioned.

You sit on your side and pretend you’ve only just come when Sam heads into the living room, raising an eyebrow at you.

“What’s all this?” he asks, stealing a handful of popcorn.

“Nothing,” you say, shifting as he pokes around your stash. Footsteps. “Go over there,”

“What?”

“Bucky won’t come over here if you’re standing there.”

Sam cocks his head. “Ohh, Bucky huh?”

“Go!” you urge, heat up to your ears when he satiates you, hands up in surrender as he walks away.

More Avengers filter in, at the very end Bucky. Your friends have decided to appease you today, occupying every space except the one by your side. Your leg bounces with anticipation.

Bucky looks at you, noticing everything you’ve done, and blinks away when you smile at him. Your shoulders sag, lips pursed achingly.

“You can sit here. If you want,” you say. “I got you some candy. I’ve seen you eating it before, and I thought you… you might like it.”

It’s a slim moment—but a moment nonetheless—before he answers. “Okay. Thank you. I’m gonna get a drink before the movie.”

“I’ll go with you,” you pipe up, a few of the others joining you to pour sodas and chips into bowls.

You’re reaching for a glass when you feel him behind you, stretching for another.

You shiver when you feel air against the nape of your neck, knee knocking loudly into the counter.

He’s away from you before you can process it was him, innocuously pulling open a drawer.

Everyone meets your eye questioningly. “You okay?” Natasha asks.

You nod, pupils flickering to Bucky, who would seem entirely innocent if his irises weren’t so glittered with mirth.

You frown at him, confused when he’s completely unchanged, simply walking beside you back to his seat.

You split your attention between the movie and Bucky’s face for the first hour, realizing you should never have let it stray when he reaches for his glass of water and brushes a very warm finger right below your jaw.

You stare at him perplexedly, his features outlined by the flickering light of the television.

“Butter,” he lies, shrugging. Then, he turns back to the movie and ignores you for the rest of the night. You can’t remember the name of the movie by the next day.

The round tip of your little finger aches with a small papercut.

The paperwork piled up at the edge of your desk mocks your wound, edged paper corners peeking out as if a warning.

You watch wine bubble, a fat drop beginning to edge closer to the crevice between nail and skin. Holding back an urge to shove your finger into your mouth, you clasp a tissue with your other hand, wrapping it tightly around your wounded finger.

You blow a gentle raspberry and lean back in your seat; a silent resignation: the paperwork wins.

Natasha meets your eye from the couch across the hall, appearing to read your mind in the sharp way she can do. She frowns, an exaggerated pull to her lips, falsely thinned eyes glaring. She crosses her arms and puffs her chest out, shaking her head in a distinct disappointment.

You stifle a laugh and present your injury to her.

Her lips part in overt understanding, nodding slowly. Poor baby, she mouths.

Poor baby, you agree, cradling your hand.

She laughs, standing up to walk toward you. When she gets to you, she picks up a pen off your desk, squinting at the words peeking out beneath the covers.

“This is from two months ago,” she says unhelpfully, tapping it with your pen.

“That’s not even the oldest one there,” you deplore, letting your head drop on your desk with a mournful sigh.

“Why do you insist on falling behind?” she tuts.

“I’m hurt!” you insist, pushing your finger toward her. She cocks her head at you but cradles your hand. “Every time I try, it’s like it fights back!”

“If you need help…” Natasha mutters something in Russian and brushes her lips against your pinky, making you smile.

You simper. “Did you just heal me?”

“No. I cursed you for being lazy.”

You frown, taking back your hand to hold it against your chest. “I’m good,” you say, responding to her earlier offer. You heave a big sigh. “Thank you, though. Evil woman.”

She smiles at you, shaking her head when she sees your opposite fingers wrapping around your injured one. “You like to suffer.”

“How dare you,” you mumble, urging another bloody bead to form.

“Deviant,” she claims, walking away.

You don’t look up to blow a raspberry at her, dragging your nail up your skin until a thicker drop forms.

It’s a fairly challenging game you have going on, making your bead grow while trying to keep it plump and steady on the tip of your little finger.

If you breathe a little too hard, it wobbles, and you clamp your lips closed, holding your breath and freezing entirely for a few seconds until it’s still again.

It’s a concentration game. And Bucky takes advantage of it.

You press the indent between your bones gently, immersed enough to only recognize his presence when he begins to speak.

“Don’t do that,” he condemns, suddenly right behind you. He must be bent over, lips a millimeter away from the curve of your neck for you to feel every intricate vibration of each word he says. You flinch immediately, an already hot cheekbone bumping against his chin.

When you catch sight of him, he’s already straightened, perfectly calm.

“What?” you croak, warm fingers against the warmer skin below your earlobe.

“You cut yourself,” he says.

“Uh huh.”

“Why are you making it worse?”

“I… I’m not.”

His face stains only lightly in dissent, dissolving like a single droplet of color in an ocean of clear.

He doesn’t respond audibly, only shrugging and walking away. You only realize he’d pressed a clean, colorful band-aid on your desk after he’s out of the office.

There’s a streak of cherry red along your finger when you finally look down, only observing its head create a fat scarlet stain on your sleeve. You curse Bucky and the goosebumps still high on your skin.

You suspect Bucky to be somewhat of a sadist.

He doesn’t seem to mind the effect he’s carved into you, nearly reveling in it as if your embarrassment were some sort of thrill. You find yourself shivering prematurely the moment he steps foot in a room, the sight of him accompanied by the imminent line of ice along sensitive skin.

He’ll embarrass you wherever. Make you choke on your tea right before a meeting, burn yourself on a fresh tray of cookies, trip over shoes, and crash into walls. And he’ll watch you, lousily stifling a smile before tending to whatever he’d caused as if he wasn’t at fault for it.

Guiltily, you yearn for the roles to reverse. Or for yours to lessen.

Slumped on the couch in the living room with a bowl of oily popcorn, you contemplate your situation with Snoopy.

All you had wanted was a sign further than acknowledgement. Something realer than his bitter, thin smile, maybe one of the laughs you’d been so eager to hear in real life. At the most, a purposeful touch; still kind, still real, probably brief. But what you’ve gotten surpasses what you’d initially desired in delightfully awful ways.

When you think about it, your situation doesn’t seem too fat with issue. You can’t recall a substantial conversation with Bucky, but you can remember with perfect clarity how warm his lips are from a millimeter away. It brings up the contemplation on whether or not it’s an actual issue to begin with.

You’re tempted to ignore it. You’re very, very tempted to let him continue his cruel attentions and let yourself become further putty in his presence.

What would you even do? You can’t see yourself pulling him forward by the collar—to make a point, of course, not to brush your fingers against his own neck to see him shudder—to look him in the eyes while telling him that you know what he’s doing. Especially when you don’t. Primarily when you aren’t sure what the point of the conversation would be—to tell him to stop? You aren’t sure you want him to.

It’s easier to push it aside and let him torture you. Maybe you’ll become impervious to Bucky Barnes’ bullying.

You push yourself straighter and let your head fall back, listening to Charlie Brown’s mournful voiceover.

“What if everyone was like you? What if we all ran away from our problems? Huh? What then? What if everyone in the whole world suddenly decided to run away from his problems?”

Your eyes pop open with a startled frown, watching his cartoon throw his little arms up and sigh.

Linus appears, but you don’t listen to his words, letting the fleshy part of your palm support your chin. The pads of your fingers float up to the space behind your ears, and you feel yourself flush immediately with recognition. Bucky is a sadist, sure. But you’re a masochist.

With a dejected huff, you let your hands drop to the popcorn.

It’s not even a full episode past when something shifts. You frown, covertly examining your surroundings with edged brows.

Two hands form deep clefts in cushions on either side of you, body heat sticky against the skin it can touch.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asks quietly, lips so close to your ear you can feel the echo of their movements. His breath prickles your neck.

“Um…” You struggle to respond, your tongue suddenly too dry. In the background, Lucy shouts something. It sends the dumbest feeling into your chest. Charlie Brown is right.

You gather up all the courage inside of you, rolling it up into the tightest and biggest little ball you can, and snap your neck to the side, catching his gaze before he can move in surprise.

You’re closer than you thought you’d be. You can see all the pretty little details of his face, the way his pupils eat the lovely blue of his irises and how high his Adam's apple bobs.

“What’s wrong?” you echo gently, sweetly mocking.

He stammers, charcoal lashes fluttering.

You hum, examining his face one last time before hopping off the couch to go to the kitchen, leaving him slumped over the couch, dazed.

612 notes · View notes

jen-with-a-pen · 1 month

Text

❀ 𝑯𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒚𝒔𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒆 – 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ❀

❀ SUMMARY ❀ Ooey-gooey, fluffy snapshots looking into the lives of one Bucky Barnes and Honeysuckle, who have more chemistry than the experiments in Bruce Banner'e lab. Everyone else knows it... except them. It's not without a little help– from Sam 'Certified Wingman' Wilson– do Bucky and Honey begin to realize and figure out their feelings for one another.

❀ PAIRINGS ❀ Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

❀ WARNINGS ❀ Tooth-rotting fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, idiots in love, everyone knows they like each other except them, Avengers live in the Tower, Sam Wilson is a good wingman, touching, mutual pining, domestic avengers, maybe like a tad angst but not much, softness, mild to moderate language (includes cursing), lots of feel-good feelings, no use of y/n, no description of y/n besides maybe outfits but it's still vague

Read this fic on AO3!

header + warning banner by me ❤ dividers by @saradika-graphics

This series is nonlinear and each part can be read separately!

Spam liking will result in an automatic block!

❀ I – The "Not-Date" Date

❀ II – Another Time

❀ III – Sunset Spot

❀ IV – Think Pink

❀ V ❀ VI ❀ VII

185 notes · View notes

urdepressedslut · 1 year

Text

More than friends

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You are eager to help Bucky prepare for a date, but he would rather stay home with you.

♡ Warnings: light angst, fluff (idiots in love)

Bucky watched as she paced around, listing off date ideas.

“A carnival would be so romantic— do we have any carnivals around here?” She paused, scratching her head. “Never mind, maybe a relaxing walk… OH— A picnic!”

She faced Bucky, waiting for his reaction to what she thought was a brilliant idea.

Bucky just shrugged, not giving her the feedback she had wanted.

“Doll, I appreciate you but… I don’t know…” He trailed off, causing her to frown.

“Buck don’t be nervous, Leah is super sweet.”

“I’m not nervous, I just… Its…” He mumbled, trying to find the right words, but the way she was looking at him, so eager to get him to this date. He wondered if it was possible that she’d feel the same way.

He was crazy about her. But Bucky being well… Bucky. He never voiced how he felt, even though he wanted to. He assumed she didn’t feel the same about him, which hurt.

She seemed happy helping him plan for this date, which she planned. Bucky politely tried to say no to her idea, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

He liked seeing her happy, and if that meant going on dates she planned for him… Well, so be it.

“I’ll make sure you look handsome, not that you need help in that department.” She told him, going through his closet.

Bucky became flustered at her compliment, knowing she most likely didn’t mean it like that. But it affected him nonetheless.

"Handsome?" He questioned, making sure he'd heard her right.

"Duh, have you looked in the mirror?" She asked, looking at him like he was crazy.

Bucky didn't think it was possible for more blood to rush to his cheeks. Clearing his throat, he adjusted himself in his seat.

"You feeling a button-up or a long sleeved shirt?" She asked him, holding up the two options.

"Long sleeved." He answered too quickly.

"Buck, she won't judge you." She told him, trying to ease his anxiety about showing his metal arm.

"How do you know?" He asked, raising his brows.

"I don't know, but I know she's nice. It doesn't seem like something she'd do," She countered, "Besides the metal arm is hot."

Bucky's eyes widened at her confession, looking at her intensely. She seemed to realize what she had said, her cheeks turning scarlet.

"I- I mean... I was saying that your arm would look hot- Look good in a button-up... I mean I didn't- It's what I meant to say." She got out, stumbling over every other word. She felt embarrassed at what she had said.

She obviously adored Bucky, him being her entire world. She liked seeing him happy, and he seemed content when she would help him with dates. She had wished that it was her going on dates with him numerous times, but pushed the silly thought away. He'd never see her in that way, they were just friends.

Bucky's chuckle got her attention.

"You think my arm is hot?" He teased, loving the way she'd get flustered. He thought it was adorable.

"I mean't your arm would look good in the button-up."

"That's not what you said." He teased again.

"Are you feeling okay?" She asked, "Because thats definitely what I said."

"Are you feeling okay? You seem flushed Doll." He asked in mock concern.

"I feel perfectly fine. Now what you gonna pick?" She rushed out, wanting to change the topic.

Bucky wasn't having that, he wanted to know why she was getting all nervous all of a sudden. He had hoped it was because she might feel the same way. He had gotten courageous suddenly, wanting to confess how he felt.

"(Y/n)... I don't think I wanna go out." He started, not wanting to jump straight to the point.

She frowned, suddenly concerned that something was wrong. Her heart ached that he was possibly feeling anxious, and she wanted to be the one to reassure him.

"Oh Buck, what's going on?" She asked him softly, giving him her full focus.

He noticed her worried eyes, he didn't think it was possible to fall more in love.

"I've just changed my mind, I don't wanna go. I wanna stay here, with you." He told her, watching her expression switch from concerned to confused.

"Why? You don't like Leah? Thought you guys hit it off at Izzy's?"

"Doll, I was ordering a drink... And she works there." He corrected her, watching her cheeks go scarlet from slight embarrassment.

"Whatever, you guys would be good together."

"Why do you keep doing that?" He questioned.

"Doing what?"

Bucky narrowed his eyes at her trying to play dumb. Although deep down he found it adorable.

"You keep pushing me to go on dates- talk to girls. I'm starting to feel like you're trying to get rid of me." He teased, but felt insecure by his own words.

"No Buck it's not like that I... I just want..." She stumbled, "I was just trying to make you happy. You seemed happy when I would help you out, I'm sorry."

His heart thumped loudly, wishing he could pull her into his embrace. She was too compassionate for this world, her soul too pure.

"I was happy." He told her truthfully, causing her to furrow her brows in confusion.

"But you just sai-"

"I was happy because I was with you." He rushed out, "All that time we sat around as you listed off date ideas. When we'd go on long walks and you'd tell me about a new girl you thought I'd like. The hours you spent searching my closet for something I could wear for a date. I was happy because I got to spend time with you. I wasn't thinking about the girls you were throwing at me, I was only thinking about you."

"Oh." Was all she could say, the butterflies in her stomach becoming overwhelming.

His gaze was piercing, causing her to break eye contact. Fiddling with her fingers instead.

"You were thinking about me because... You uh..." She trailed off, feeling suddenly very vulnerable.

There was still a chance Bucky was speaking as a friend. She didn't know if she could take such rejection from him.

"Because I love you." He finally confessed. A weight feeling like it was lifted off his chest, while anxiety swarmed within him.

She was taken aback, and she almost couldn't believe what she had heard. Bucky loves me? It was too good to be true.

"You... You love me?" She whispered out, his confession leaving her breathless.

"Doll, you're my everything. I've loved you for awhile, and I never said anything because... You were always trying to set me up, and I just thought you didn't feel the same way." He spoke softly to her, noticing her glossy eyes.

He feared he may have ruined their friendship, by the looks of her teary eyes.

"Buck... I've liked- loved you for a long time... And I..." She paused, swallowing a sob. "I just didn't think you'd ever feel the same way."

Bucky's chest filled with warmth at her confession, and he couldn't believe someone as tainted as him, deserved someone like her. But he was selfish, and he wanted her.

"Doll, you're beautiful, brilliant and you have the best dad jokes. Why do you think I wouldn't fall for you? You're the only one I'll ever want."

"I'm not special Buck... I'm just... Basic. The dad jokes are all I've got." She tried to joke, but an escaping tear caught his attention.

Standing up and walking over to her, he reached up his flesh hand. Grabbing the side of her face, tilting her head up to where their eyes met. Gently his thumb wiped away the moisture, his thumb tracing all the way down to her quivering lip. Stopping there.

"You are incredibly special to me, (Y/n)." He spoke genuinely, her eyes shining with adoration.

She felt nervous under his intense gaze, the butterflies threatening to burst from her stomach. His touch causing her skin to heat up. They had stolen friendly touches here and there, but this was way more intimate.

"I don't really know how to do... Relationships... I don't wanna mess anything up." She whispered, her eyes dancing down to his lips real quick, then back up to his steel blue orbs.

"You're not gonna mess anything up." He chuckled, stroking her bottom lip.

"How are you so sure?"

"You could never mess anything up... Just please don't leave me." He told her, his eyes shifting down to her mouth when she wetted her lips.

"Well you're in luck then." She huffed out, sliding her hands around his waist, tugging on his lower back, pulling his front flush to hers.

"Why's that Doll?" He got out breathlessly, the feeling of her body pressed up against his, being too much for him.

"I don't think I could ever leave you," She told him, "I don't wanna live in a world without you in it."

A/N: thank you @foreverrandomwritings for beta reading <3

#bucky x y/n #buckybarnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #imagine #marvel imagines #one shot #reader insert #marvel cinematic universe #tfatws #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #idiots in love

1K notes · View notes

zenaidamacrouras1 · 4 months

Text

Now posting weekly-ish on AO3:

History of American Capitalism

A Stucky College AU by ZenaidaMacrouras1

A College AU in which Steve is a small history major and Bucky is the ･✧∘* ✧･STAR QUARTERBACK･✧*∘✧･ Steve is looking forward to his History of American Capitalism Class, though he's not sure what to do about the extremely handsome ✧･Star Quarterback･✧ who keeps sitting next to him during lecture. Look, Steve is just trying his best. Unfortunately, Bucky is too. May include: Jokes. Pining. Thirsting. Adorable boys who don't realize they are in love. References to US cultural events of the 1800s. Information about American football. Adopted sestras getting all up into Steve's business. You don’t have to understand American football or US history to understand the fic.

Rating: E

Word Count: Maybe 70k?

Chapters: 20?

Beta party! All the love to @booksandabeer and my pal tenmilestilts (on ao3 not on tumblr) for all their very appreciated labor and thoughtful comments that make me like all my fics more.

#stucky au #stucky fanfic #stucky fic #steve rogers x bucky barnes #wintershield #idiots in love

160 notes · View notes

denebolablack · 7 months

Text

Tony: *To Bucky* You cannot shoot every single person I've dated that you don't like!

Bucky: *Raises an eyebrow*

Tony: Okay, you technically can, but you shouldn't. Come on, Steve! Help me out here!

Steve: *Amused* Idk babe, you always tell him to use his free will, and that's exactly what he is doing.

Tony: *Frustrated* I'm so done with both of you, absolutely done.

Bucky: Don't say that doll *Pushes the genius into his lap* I'll behave if you spend some quality time with us, ¿hm?

Tony: *Squints* I feel like I'm being blackmailed but I'll allow it just because you're hot.

Steve: *Hugs the pair of brunettes* Oh so you are with us just because we're hot?

Tony: Right now? Yes. Now shut up and kiss me cuz I'm still mad at you.

312 notes · View notes

burninblood · 8 months

Text

idiot ... <3

#buckynat #winterwidow #bucky x natasha #james and natalia #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #burninbloodart #i think i love you james buchanan barnes #missing my lovely idiots #fanart #mine #sketch #nat with her ws hair... sort of

277 notes · View notes

livingincolorsagain · 9 days

Text

Too Sweet

(T, 2.2k)

He’s a sweet boy, Mrs. Howard tells Sam, standing close by his side as they both watch Bucky work the grill, no less than four people giving him instructions and supervising his work.

Bucky’s cheeks are flushed, his sweaty hair pushed back, but he’s smiling wide and listening intently, eyes glinting and sleeves pushed up his forearms as he gestures with the spatula.

Sam nods, bites back a joke about anyone calling Bucky a boy, and swallows hard.

He’s screwed, is the thing. So screwed.

read on ao3

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #onlysambucky #sambucky fic #a writes sambucky #some fluff for these trying times (i have covid and it’s awful)#at least i can always write sambucky being idiots in love #i can always count on that

61 notes · View notes

stucky-headcanon-bot · 1 year

Text

☺️

#Steves nonstop struggle to show Bucky is his husband #He won't hesitate to call himself Mrs Barnes is #Classic Steve behaviour #Almost married people #idiots in love #steve rogers #stevebucky #james barns #james buchanan barnes #white wolf #chris evans #stucky #bucky imagine #sebastian stan #steve bucky

373 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 1 year

Text

Deranged Marriage (9) – Two tidal waves

Summary: Your father wants you to choose a husband. Your chosen one doesn’t like the idea one bit.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x (Mafia daughter)! Reader

Characters: Steve Rogers, Alexander Pierce

Warnings: mentions of character’s death, language, strong/bratty reader, banter, sexual tension, enemies with sexual tension, making out, still idiots in love, hand around throat (non-sexual), threats, implied torture with knives

Deranged Marriage masterlist

<< Part 8

“Fucking hell, get it over with, James Buchanan Barnes. You’ve got a dick and she got…uh whatever that bitch is hiding under her cheap fake designer clothes,” you argue with Bucky again.

You cross your arms over your chest, huffing as Bucky refuses sex with Natasha. This is to make it more believable that he’s on her side.

“I don’t want to,” he bites back. Bucky points out that the same applies to you as well. “I’m not some breathing dildo you can use for your liking.”

“Yeah, but not so long ago you loved to fuck her on our dining table so,” you cock your head, “what’s the problem? Can the old man not get it up anymore? Do you need Viagra? I can ask Helen to get you some.”

“You fucking brat,” he growls in your direction. “One day I’ll put you over my lap and spank the life out of your bratty ass. You are frustrating and annoying.”

“Asshole.”

“I should just,” he throws his hands up, “leave you to yourself. I have no idea why I’m helping you. A bullet to my brain would be less painful."

“I can’t believe you are ruining our chance to bring the people attacking my father down over a quickie. Just put it inside a little and disappoint her like every other girl you fucked.”

“That’s what you want? How about you watch me fuck her too, huh? I bet you are a kinky bitch." He smirks at you. “Go ahead and tell me about all the dirty fantasies you have about me and my sex life.”

“You mean your non-existent sex life,” you retort, mirroring his smirk. “I heard through the grapevine that you didn’t get any lately.”

“Because of you,” he’s in your face, breathing hard. “Every woman in town believes we will marry and they are afraid of you and your father.”

“Aw, I’m cock blocking you?” you coo. “What a pity you refuse to fuck Natasha. Your dick would feel so much better after going for a ride with her.”

“I told you,” you gasp as his hand wraps around your neck. He grips your neck tightly, forcing you to look up at him. “I don’t want to fuck her.”

“Why? She’s your type.”

“Dead is not my type.”

You frown deeply. Just a few days ago Bucky and you talked about getting closer to the person who ordered the hit on you and your father through Natasha. “What do you mean by...dead?"

“Oh…did I forget to tell you she’s dead?” He smirks darkly as he watches your lips part.

“What? But we made all these plans and now…” You knit your brows together. "Wait, you killed her, didn’t you?”

“It was an accident,” Bucky leans closer to whisper in your ear. “Maybe I let slip that she’s a mole and that Natasha tried to warn your father. Pierce is no one to mess with, you know.”

“You—” you groan. “Why did you do this? That's stupid, Barnes. We had a plan.”

“Your plan included fucking Natasha.”

“Hell, I would’ve fucked her myself to get one step closer,” you huff. “You’re a coward, Barnes. Why couldn’t you fuck her…?”

“What’s done is done. I’m more of the hit them where it hurts guy. Not the one sneaking around to get information. While you made all these nice plans, Steve and I did your job.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We caught Pierce and two of his minions. Steve has a blast interrogating them. He just loves to toy with them,” Bucky purrs in your ear. His hand tightens around your throat, making you whimper. “If only you could see yourself now. So afraid I will choke you just a little harder.”

“We already confirmed that you are not man enough, sweetie,” you grit your teeth as he loosens his hold. It only takes Bucky's hand around your neck to show you what he can do. “Do it or stop toying with me.”

“You wish I would toy with you, doll,” he chuckles. “What a pity I won’t…”

“Alexander Pierce, in all his glory,” Steve laughs as Pierce fights the ropes holding him to a chair. “You see, Y/F/N and Y/N are my allies. They are Bucky’s allies. If you attack them, you attack us.”

“The thing is, we will let you live your pitiful life. We all tried to kill each other at least once." Bucky looks at the knives he placed on a table in front of Pierce. “What I want from you is to tell me who was involved in the hit. Who is the rat among Y/F/N's people?”

“I won’t tell you shit,” Pierce spits while talking. Even though Steve has already roughed him up over the past few hours, he refuses to give up.

“We will see." Bucky chooses one knife and wields it in front of Pierce’s face. “Did you ever hear about my talent with knives? I just love the feeling of metal cutting into skin and flesh.”

“Why won’t you let me interrogate him, Barnes?” You pace the room, huffing as Bucky refuses to answer. “Did he give you a name?”

“Romanoff was all he said,” Bucky huffs. “He’s a tough little bastard. I give him that. But no one withstood my knives forever. I will find the mole for you…I mean your father. I will find him for your father.”

“We already knew about Romanoff,” you grunt. “Why did you get her killed? This was stupid."

“Your face is stupid.”

You giggle at Bucky’s words. “Your face is stupid, and your beard…the hair…the muscles. Why are you always wearing a suit but no tie? That’s stupid too.”

When he grips your right arm roughly, he says, "I use all my ties to restrain brats. I leave them there for me to use.”

“You’re so…” you squeak when he roughly cups your face and crushes his lips to yours. Bucky devours your mouth. The kiss is all tongue and teeth. He won’t let up until you weakly push against his shoulders. “I can’t breathe, you…”

He silences your protests with his mouth again. Bucky keeps you from running your mouth by slipping his tongue into your mouth.

His hands move to your waistline to easily lift you and slam you into the wall behind you.

“What the fuck?" You can barely catch your breath. Bucky is all over you. He forces your legs around his waistline before his mouth is back on you. His hands grip your ass roughly as you grind against his swelling length.

“Shut up for a moment," he whispers against your lips. “Just stop talking. I only want to hear you moan my name from now on.”

In response, you fist his hair, making him growl. “If you want me to shut up, do me good, Barnes…”

>>Part 10

Tags in reblog.

#Deranged Marriage (9) – Two tidal waves #bucky barnes x reader #mobster!bucky barnes x fem!reader #mobster!bucky #bucky barnes x female reader #enemies to lover #idiots in love

183 notes · View notes

bleue-flora · 24 days

Text

If I wrote a multi fandom fanfic it would literally just be Arrow’s Oliver Queen, Supernatural’s Dean Winchester, MCU’s Loki and Bucky Barns, and c!Dream imprisoned in Minecraft’s favorite torture box, Pandora’s Vault, with c!Quackity and his bag of tools… what does that say about me?…

36 notes · View notes

lovelybarnes · 2 years

Text

you- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader warnings: mutual pining, a littleeee angst about: request by the sweetest @lovelyrdjr , best friends to lovers

“bucky,” you sing as you enter your best friend’s room. he says your name back with a glance before looking back down at the book he’s reading—one of the ones you recommended—and drones distractedly. “guess what?”

he hums again, resisting the urge to look back up at you and the little butterfly clips pulling strands of your hair back. he recognizes them as the ones he gave you for your birthday last year.

“bucky,” you whine when he doesn’t pay attention to you, poking his shoulder repeatedly. he holds back a smile, continuing to pretend to ignore you even though he hasn’t been able to concentrate on his book since the moment your perfume filled up the space of his room. you drag out his name again, climbing on his bed and dramatically draping yourself over him.

“yeah, sweetheart?” he responds, not taking his eyes off of his book but letting a hand fall on your shoulder, rubbing circles into your skin.

“i have news,” you inform, propping your chin on his chest.

“what’s your news?” he asks, sparing you a glance that he forces not to last long.

“well, you have to be paying attention to me to tell you.” you pout, tugging at his shirt.

“‘m paying attention.”

“no, you’re not.” you sigh exaggeratedly, dropping your cheek on his shirt. “and, as a punishment, you won’t get cake and sam will be my fiancé.”

that catches his attention, and bucky puts down his book, dog-earing the page he was on even though he doesn’t like doing it. you’re a horrible influence. “what?”

he feels you grin against his shirt, nuzzling your face deeper as you shrug innocently. “guess what opened today?”

“what do you mean sam is going to be your fiance?” bucky questions instead.

“the answer to my question will answer all of yours,” you reply cryptically, meeting his eye. you bounce lightly in petulance. “guess!”

bucky sighs. “the bakery?”

“close.” you grin, biting your lip.

“the… cake store?”

you nod excitedly. “and guess what they sell?”

bucky shrugs. “cakes?”

“yes, but what specific cakes?”

“this is a lot more than that question you said would give me answers, and i still don’t have any,” bucky complains.

“wedding cakes! and they give free samples to couples that are ‘to be wed,’” you quote the words with a goofy accent, beginning to tug his arm. “they look really good and i want something sweet and i already told the woman working there i was about to get married and would bring my fiancé back so we could try some cakes.”

bucky nods slowly, watching you bite on a nail at your confession. “are you asking me to marry you?”

you roll your eyes, pushing at his shoulder. “you know what i’m asking.”

“i think i’ll need a proposal for this,” bucky declares. “it is the custom.”

you glare at him for a moment before exhaling softly. “will you marry me?”

“that’s how you’re gonna propose?” bucky accuses, making you laugh as your head drops to his chest. shaking your head, you get off of him and drop to your knee.

“james bucket barnacles,” you begin dramatically, offering him your hand. “will you marry me and be my fiancé for an hour so i can eat cake?”

bucky pretends to think for a moment before bursting into a grin, pulling you to him. “yes, a million times yes!” he presses sloppy kisses to your face, making you laugh as you try to push him away.

“save that for the cake shop,” you recommend.

bucky is not proud of his triumph when people think you and him are dating. he’s never minded, and you’ve never said anything to him or to the strangers that compliment on your nonexistent relationship, shrugging it away with the fact that you will never see them again and find it useless to explain to them the nature of your relationship.

when he falls asleep with his head laying on your lap, your fingers combing through his hair, or when you smile at him in that soft way you only do to him, he catches himself believing that you don’t correct anyone for the same reason he doesn’t—not because it does not matter what unknown others think, but because you’re in love with him too.

when you ask him to pretend to be your fiancé, he revels in the fact that he won’t have to bite back his pride or hold back the ridiculous urge to thread his fingers through yours and wrap an arm around your waist. maybe he goes a little overboard, but he’ll insist it was for the role if you question it—which you don’t—and he’d kick himself if he didn’t take full advantage of the opportunity.

he’s buzzing from your touch already as you enter the shop, warmed further when you lean your head against his shoulder nonchalantly, sending you an amused look when the woman behind the register asks you if he’s “the bucky.”

he can’t help the pleasant feeling at the bottom of his stomach when you agree easily, squeezing his hand. “yeah, he’s my bucky—my fiancé.”

the woman coos at the both of you, commenting on how great you look together.

“it’s thanks to her,” bucky shrugs, genty bumping you with his shoulder. “i mean, look at how pretty she is.”

your skin heats enough for him to feel it through his shirt, making him grin and press a kiss to your forehead just because he can.

“oh, you two remind me of my husband and i,” the woman reveals earnestly. “we’ve been in love for forty-eight years. since the moment we met.”

“i know the feeling,” bucky murmurs, glancing at you to see your eyes already on him, caught on the startling honesty of his features until you snap yourself out of it, settling a smile on your lips.

“me too,” you agree quietly, toeing on the edge of too convincing.

“i’m so glad you were honest about this. do you know how many people pretend to be together to try cake?” the woman asks incredulously, shaking her head as she collects cake. bucky and you exchange a look. “so much so that i can tell if the couple is actually in love the minute they walk in here.”

“wow, that must be a frequent problem, then,” you mumble, biting your lip.

“yes,” the woman says. “but, luckily, no one can fake love once i’ve seen it enough.”

“some—some might…” you begin, her words getting the better of you, but she stares straight at you and wags her finger.

“oh no. not the real one. the one that’ll last. like yours.”

“oh,” you whisper softly, allowing yourself just one moment of believing her as your eyes meet bucky’s.

bucky doesn’t like to think about love.

he doesn’t like to talk about it—his love for you or, really, any of his love at all—since, by some means, love always goes back to you, leaving him in a panic because the platonic way he is supposed to love you is not so platonic at all, and he is left remembering that he has fallen in love with his best friend.

as terrified as he is of you finding out and putting your friendship at risk, he aches to tell you, to read the confessions that play in his mind when he’s around you out loud and simply attach them to a blank face instead of you, but you know him too well. as trained as he is, you’ve always seemed to be able to read his mind—and he yours—and you would figure out he was lying about his faceless girl, so he chooses to push it away and ignore it.

he leaves questions he has for himself unanswered through the fear that he’ll figure them out in a realization that he can’t hold it in anymore, that he has to risk the friendship because he can’t live as if he hasn’t completely fallen for you.

if you’ve noticed, you don’t bring it up, and he isn’t sure if he’s glad or upset about it since he can do the exact same thing to you.

he’s trying not to think about it now as pretends to concentrate on the show you’ve put on. it’s one of the comedies you love so much, and you’re completely immersed in the scene, pulling at his arm excitedly. one of the main characters is rushing to tell one of the others she’s in love with him as he does the same, and he can’t help but think, turning to you. his eyes drag over your features, his teeth digging into his lip when they catch on the happy twinkle in your eyes.

you turn to him, startled to find him looking back. “watch!” you insist. “this is the best part.”

you’re bouncing lightly as the episode goes on, one of your hands patting the bed until it finds his and holds it to your chest as if it was a comfort.

you squeeze it absentmindedly, thumb brushing against his palm.

your anticipation gets higher as the seconds pass, and then natasha is opening your door and calling your name, inviting you to game night.

friday pauses the episode when nat starts talking, and bucky is ready to angrily refuse natasha’s offer for making your features drop at the halt, glittery excitement washing away.

“sure,” you reply instead, lowering bucky’s hand to your lap and disappointedly moving to turn the television off when bucky stops you with a hand on your arm.

“why don’t we finish watching and then we go?”

you shake your head. “we can watch it later,” you reason. “i don’t want to keep anyone waiting.”

bucky isn’t happy about it, but agrees because you have. you drag him to the common room with you after brushing his hair away from his face with your fingers and straightening his shirt. as reluctant as he was at the prospect of leaving the comfort of your room—of the simplicity and comfort of you and him—the peck you give his nose when you’re satisfied with your work makes him a little dizzy and his reasons for not going a little blurry.

he sticks by your side for the entirety of the night, watching as your teammates get drunker while the sky bleeds black, the both of you remaining the more sober.

even after several of the bright drinks tony made, the knowing glint in natasha’s green eyes remains, her smirk growing as the night goes on until she sits next to you and throws an arm over your shoulders.

“let’s play a game,” she says to everyone, but her attention is on you. her words are eerily sober as she offers truth or dare, the others agreeing behind her. at the look she offers bucky, a pit grows in his stomach, suspecting she has a plan.

he doesn’t know how he did it, but he manages to avoid her for the entire game, until they’re a while in and the bottle’s neck points to him. a sinister grin curls natasha’s lips as she settles in, cocking her head at bucky. “alright barnes, dare—” she starts, choosing the order of her words obviously purposefully. he doesn’t miss the way her eyes flicker to you next to him, lips pursing. “or truth?”

he suspects she knows about the way he feels for you, and although it’s most probable that she won’t be as cruel as to force him to confess, he isn’t sure what else she could force him to do. spots of pink still splatter on his skin after the kiss you were dared to give your best friend; besides, he’d chosen dare far too many times when he was younger.

“truth.” he gulps.

“alright. i’ve noticed you’ve acted… differently lately,” nat begins. “nicer. although you barely come out here.”

“don’t hear the question, nat,” he points out, cocking a brow as she takes a sip of beer, avoiding your eyes.

“fine. i guess i’m just wondering if it’s due to an… interest,” she continues. “basically, are you interested in anyone, bucky?”

bucky swallows harshly, pressing his tongue against his cheek. his eyes tactfully flicker to you, unsurprised but startled to find you already looking back at him expectantly.

“uh,” he stammers, already knowing he’d answered the question by his actions. so he decides fuck it, they don’t know who it is and he’d rather just tell the truth. “yeah, i guess. i am—interested in someone.”

you blink, an indecipherable look going over your face for a second.

natasha, however, leans over with interest played on her features. “who?”

“‘think it’s only one question,” he mutters as a reminder, but then he hears your voice, intrigued.

“who is it?” you wonder. “is it the girl from the coffee shop? she’s so pretty.”

when he turns to you, he can’t tell you no, so he nods without thinking, “yeah, it’s her.”

something passes over your eyes; realization, he recognizes.

“my turn, right?” bucky asks, looking away from you with a blush and a clearing of his throat, but natasha shakes her head.

“actually, you’ve asked truth or dare the most out of everyone and wanda has one more question before she catches up to everyone,” she smiles. “so if it’s okay, i think she should turn.” she looks around innocently, the rest of the avengers unconcerned and shrugging sure, enjoying the show. wanda seems surprised at her words, but leans over to play anyway once everyone agrees.

she spins the bottle, and somehow—probably thanks to natasha’s fucking glare—it lands on you.

wanda claps keenly. “truth or dare, y/n?”

her face is inarguably more welcoming than natasha’s, and after kissing your best friend, giving total control over your social media to thor for the night, and making bruce blush after showing him the most… provocative photo on your phone, you pick truth. you realize it’s a mistake after catching natasha discreetly poke wanda’s arm.

“oh, uh, same question as bucky’s.”

you sigh through an awkward laugh, meeting bucky’s heavy stare. “yeah,” you admit, a strange pull curling your lips. bucky looks to his lap as he mourns in your truth. “this guy i met at that new antique store, it’s him. he’s really sweet.”

his heart would break at the words if he wasn’t paralyzed by the split-second confusion—the little time bucky’s subconscious leaves him in the dark while it ascertains something even bucky is unknown to until it isn’t.

you’re lying.

bucky’s neck snaps back up to look at you, not wanting to question you right now but later, when you’re alone. he suddenly can’t wait for this to be over.

he doesn’t have to wait long. natasha, for all her intrusions, recognizes when her plans have worked, and the game dissolves after a while, everyone dozing off of the couches or entertaining each other with their strange little antics.

it’s silent as you and bucky ride in the elevator, and then bucky has to get it out, the observation he can’t make sense of has been plaguing him for too long to make sense.

“you lied,” he blurts, meeting your wide eyes when your head snaps to him. your lips part in question, trying to seem nonchalant, but the speed at which you turned to look at him and the blur in your irises tells him you’re nervous. “in the game. about the guy, you lied.”

knowing well that if you try to lie you would probably get discovered again, you flounder. “you lied too!” you counteract instead. “when you sad it was the barista.”

bucky scans your face, and you realize what he’s doing too late. “it’s someone in the tower. someone who was there,” he realizes, his whole body pivoting to you.

covering your face in your hands, you complain, “stop doing that!”

the elevator doors open to an agent, making you lift your head from your hands, joining bucky when he tells them to wait for the next one, clicking to highest number on the tower as the doors close on the agent’s startled face.

you turn to him, “so what? you like someone in the tower too. that’s why you lied.”

“hypocrite,” bucky grumbles.

“it’s nat, isn’t it?” you press. “or wanda?”

“no,” bucky states, squinting at you. “it’s thor, right? either him or loki.”

“no. who is it, then? why won’t you tell me?”

“why won’t you tell me?”

“because!”

“ah, yes, thank you for that comprehensive explanation,” bucky deadpans. you glare at him.

“it’s nat,” you repeat, squinting at him even though you know it isn’t. you’re sure of it because you can hear the honesty in his voice when he negated it and you can hear it again now, because you can see it so plainly on his face in that easy way only you can do. yet you insist because there is no one else it could be.

“no it’s not.”

“it is! it has to be nat!” you exclaim.

“why does it have to be nat?”

“because there’s no one else!”

“well there is because it’s not her!”

“no—no, it’s her. i’ve seen you with wanda, you don’t like how intrusive her powers are. i don’t think you’ve even met gamora or carol and you don’t remember maria,” you list, scrounging for all the reasons you’re ashamed of having prepared. “it’s natasha. who else is there?”

“you, you idiot! there’s you!” bucky cries, stepping closer to you to take hold of your shoulders, shaking you lightly to get his point across.

“me what?” you ask dumbly.

bucky’s frustration at you bubbles over, and he growls an insult at your stupidity before pulling you to him, holding you steady as he kisses you.

you’re shocked for a second before you respond, melting against your best friend, the arms that were limp at your side looping around his neck to keep you upright. his hands are tight around your waist, tugging you as close as he can get you.

the kiss is desperate, teeth bumping as he guides you to the wall of the elevator. you pull away for a second to catch your breath, running a thumb over his cheekbone, admiring the color of his eyes. “it’s you too,” you say.

“yeah, i figured,” bucky teases, making you laugh and roll your eyes before you kiss him again.

the elevator doors part to natasha and wanda standing outside, natasha’s features colored with satisfaction.

“told you,” she whispers to wanda.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes ff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes best friends to lovers #bucky barnes x reader best friends to lovers #bucky barnes x reader idiots in love #bucky barnes x reader mutual pining #bucky barnes x reader fluffy #bucky barnes fanfiction fluff #bucky barnes fanfic fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fic fluff #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes idiots in love

2K notes · View notes

wintereyed · 8 months

Text

(Nebulous parole universe)

Zemo disappears without a trace as soon as he is allowed to after the Thunderbolts' last mission, wanting to put distance between himself and Bucky.

It takes a few months, but Bucky, angry (and hurt) that Zemo has left without so much as a wave goodbye, eventually tracks him down to a nondescript apartment in Spain.

"You covered your tracks well, but you forget who I am."

Zemo, convinced that choosing to be with him will only spell bad things for Bucky, tells him to forget everything between them.

"You will lose everything, James: your pardon, Sam, Wakanda."

#winterbaron #bucky barnes #helmut zemo #tfatws #thunderbolts #the winter soldier #daniel bruhl #sebastian stan #bucky x zemo #i made myself sad again #zemo tries to protect him by being a dick #idiots in love #in love bucky is stubborn bucky #listen i need someone to write this #tragic winterbaron is best winterbaron #i will go down with this ship

101 notes · View notes

crazyunsexycool · 1 year

Text

My little love

Chapter 4

pairing: Bucky Barnes x enhanced!reader

word count: 4.1k

Warnings: mentions of gunshot wounds, blood, shrapnel embedded in someone’s side, Bucky and Angel having quality daddy/daughter time, nightmares, child crying, Steve being cute

A/N: It’s here!!!! There is not a lot of reader in this chapter I wanted to focus more on Bucky and Angel. What name does Bucky choose??? I went back and forth a lot with the name because I honestly don’t think Bucky would choose a more modern name but I think it’s a good choice. Tell me what you think! Also I was very excited for you to see Bucky being a first time dad….

Series masterlist

Ch. 3

“Why are you so loud?” You asked from the entryway to the living room. Hands on your hips and a scowl on your face as you glared at one of the two super soldiers that didn’t know what whispering meant.

“We are talking names.”

“Talking or yelling?”

“I made coffee.” Bucky says as he stands in front of you, trying to change the subject. “Do you want some?”

You were about to respond when giggles interrupted you. The sweet little giggles of none other than Angel. Leaning to the side to look behind Bucky you find Steve sitting on the floor, holding her hands as she stands in front of him. She was trying to find her balance but anytime Steve let go of her hands she’d fall down. She laughed again when her bottom hit the soft area rug in your living room.

“Well now you’re just being silly.” Steve told her as he picked the giggling toddler up and had her stand looking in your direction. “Who’s that sweetheart?”

Her eyes lit up when she saw you and she immediately stretched her arms out so that you would pick her up.

“Good morning cutie, how are you doing today?”

“I’m great, how are you?” Steve responded as you picked Angel up. You rolled your eyes before kissing her temple. Angel lays her head on your shoulder.

“I’m not dealing with you until I’ve had my coffee, Rogers.”

“Wow, you really are a grump in the mornings. Anyways, let me make breakfast now that you’re up.”

You narrow your eyes at him and Bucky does the same from behind you. Steve gives you an awkward smile as he walks past. Both you and Bucky follow him to the kitchen.

“You rarely make me any food. What’s going on?”

“Yeah punk, What’s up with you?”

“I tried to keep you out as long as I could but I need you for a mission Y/N. Two days tops.” He says after turning to look at you.

You frown slightly before looking between Bucky and Angel, your hold tightening slightly on the latter.

“I’ll go.” Bucky offers.

“Sorry Buck but we need her abilities.”

“It’s ok, It’s my job.” You say as you turn to him and smile. “Who else is going?”

“Nat, Sam and Clint.”

“Good, you can both watch this sweet girl.” You say you pull back and look at her. Your voice gets higher when you talk to her. “Are you going to have so much fun with Steve and daddy?”

Bucky stiffened slightly at being called dad. You look up at him slightly embarrassed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean-“

“No it’s ok, I’ll get used to it.” He says in a small voice.

“She can call you something else.”

“No it’s ok really. She can call me dad if she wants to.”

“And what do we call her? You said you were talking about names.”

Steve turns back around and starts pulling ingredients out of the fridge and cabinets.

“Well let’s see,” Bucky says as he pulls a small notebook out of his sweatpants pocket. “I have Beatrice, Eleanor, Josephine, Lydia, Frances and Vivian. What do you think?”

“You know you only have to pick one, maybe two.”

“You don’t like any of them?”

You gave him an awkward smile as you moved to set Angel down in her booster seat.

“Well, she is your daughter so you get to choose. They’re lovely names, she just doesn’t look like those names.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Steve asked from the stove.

“It means you look like a Steve, Bucky looks like a Bucky and I look like a Y/N. The name has to fit her.”

Bucky hummed and then frowned slightly. He never thought a name could be so complicated.

“Is there a name you like?”

“Not any of those.” You mutter under your breath.

“I heard that.”

“Oops.” You said with a smile.

“Agent Y/LN, your presence is being requested in conference room 302.” Friday announced.

“Is it urgent Friday?”

“Yes, your mission has been moved up, you’re needed in order to start the briefing.”

“Please let them know I’ll be down in 10 minutes.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You kiss Angel’s forehead and head to your room to change out of your pajamas.

“Ok , hopefully I’ll see you before I leave. Sorry I can’t have breakfast Steve.”

“I’ll make you some when you get back from the mission.” He smiles at you.

“I’ll hold you to it.” You head toward the living room with Bucky following close behind.

“If you have to leave right after please be careful.”

“I will,” you kiss his cheek. “If you need help with Angel, Jenna and Ivy in the medical wing can help.” You say before you head out.

The jet was ready to go. The team of four had packed up everything they would need for the two day trip and set it by the ramp of said jet. While Clint and Sam did some preflight checks Nat stood by you as you said goodbye to sweet Baby Barnes as she clung to you unaware that she wouldn’t see you for at least two days. Her little fingers played with the straps of your Kevlar vest and she pursed her lips as she concentrated with the task at hand. Bucky and Steve walked your way as you and Nat discussed something about the mission.

“Did you pick a name yet?” Is the first question you asked once Bucky stood in front of you.

“No,” he shook his head slightly as he looked at the small notebook in his hand. “This is a big deal, I can’t name her something stupid.”

“Samantha is a good name.” Sam calls out as he picks up your bags.

“Again, I said nothing stupid.”

“Wow, you talk like that in front of your daughter? You’re lucky she’ll learn her manners from Y/N.”

Nat and you chuckled at the banter but Steve pinched the bridge of his nose already exasperated with the back and forth.

“Come on You’re not even close to picking a name yet? What if I leave and never come back?” You meant it as a joke but the mood shifted quickly.

Steve took Angel from you after you placed a quick kiss on her forehead. Nat said her own quick goodbye before getting on the jet leaving you alone with Bucky. His expression was unreadable as he looked toward his daughter.

“Don’t say things like that.”

“It was just a joke, Buck.”

“Well it wasn’t funny.” He finally looked at you, finding you looking away. “I’m sorry I just- the thought of losing you is unbearable. Besides, I need you.”

Your eyes snapped up meeting his.

“And so does Joann.” You grimace at the name. “Yeah, I didn't think so either.” He scratches the name off the list with a pen. “I’ll have a name by the time you get back ok?”

“Ok, take care of yourself while I’m gone.” You say as you wrap your arms around his waist.

“What about Angel?”

“If you take care of her the way you take care of me I know she’ll be fine. Just don’t forget her-“

“Pink bear, I know. And I already spoke with Jenna and Ivy although I’m gonna do as much as I can on my own.” Bucky finishes your sentence as he wraps an arm around your shoulder. He places a kiss in your hair. “Please be careful.”

“I will. See you in two days.”

You walk up the ramp with a final wave to the three of them. Clint hits the button to close the jet as you begin to hear Angel cry. Clint stands besides you as you look through one of the windows at Steve trying to calm her down.

“Trust me kid, it doesn’t get easier.” He pats your back before turning to the cockpit.

“It’s ok sweetheart, mama will be back soon.” Steve cooed softly as if his words were meant for her ears only. It didn’t work though and Angel held her arms out and made grabby hands in hopes that you would appear before her and take her into your arms, where she was safe. When that didn’t work she turned to Bucky.

”Don’t cry,” Bucky tells her as he takes her from Steve. “I’m scared too. But you know what? We’re going to be just fine.”

He heads back into the living section of the compound and up to your apartment where you left everything set up for him. Steve followed closely behind making silly faces at the crying child in hopes of calming her down. The only thing that worked was actually being back in your apartment. It was familiar to her and she was safe. It didn’t take long for her to start yawning and rubbing her eyes, a clear sign it was time for her nap. Steve was gone and it was up to Bucky to get the tired toddler down for said nap. He walked to the room you’d chosen for her and pulled out his phone to play some music in hope it would help Angel fall asleep.

A slow song from the 40s fills the room and Bucky hums along as he sways from side to side. Angel slowly but surely rested her head against his shoulder.

“What about Loretta?” He peaks down at the child in his arms but she’s still fighting sleep. “No, not that one. Hhmm, Norma? Nah, I don’t like that one.” Bucky continued to list names and sway around the room until Angel finally fell asleep. He laid her down in the crib and covered her with the pink blanket before heading back out into the living room.

He plopped down on your couch and as he looked around the room, Bucky couldn’t help but think of what it would be like if you and him were in a relationship. He practically lived in your apartment anyway and now so did his daughter. Up until this point you had stepped up to help care for her. It’s something you didn’t need to do and yet all the conversations he’d had with Steve about you having feelings for him came back. Bucky didn’t doubt that you would offer help to anyone, especially a child that needed it but he couldn’t deny that the way you took care of his daughter was different. It was as if she was your own and that warmed his heart, because Angel trusted you more than anyone.

So with thoughts of you and his daughter Bucky relaxed into the couch and soon enough he fell asleep too.

Bucky sat up panting and disoriented. He hadn’t had a nightmare yet he could hear crying. It was the most bloodcurdling scream he’d ever heard. He looked around to realize he was in your apartment and at the sight of a doll on your couch he remembered he had put his daughter down for a nap. It was her cries that woke him up and he ran toward her room thinking someone was hurting her. He was somewhat correct. She was being hurt but only by her nightmares. She laid in the crib tossing and turning and crying bloody murder. Bucky panicked, unsure of what to do. He kept muttering to himself what would you do in this situation, if it were you here instead of him. Then he thought back to all the times he’d shown up to your place after a nightmare. He was always comforted by your touch, maybe he could provide the same for her.

Bucky bent over the railing of the crib and as gently as he could he grabbed Angel and laid her against his chest. His heart stopped when he watched her flinch at his touch but he knew it was just because of the nightmare.

“You’re ok, doll. I’m right here. I’ll keep you safe.” He cooed softly as he walked out to the living room again.

Her eyes didn’t open but her cries died down a bit. Still a small whimper here and there, a little tremble of her chin and lower lip kept him on edge.

“C’mon doll you gotta wake up for me.” He used his left hand to wipe away the tears, hoping the cool metal would maybe soothe the crying toddler. Bucky kept his eyes on her face the entire time. He studied every movement and twitch until Angel’s eyes started to flutter and finally she looked at him. She hides her face in his chest and Bucky can feel the fresh tears being soaked up by his shirt. As long as she’s awake Bucky doesn’t mind one bit. He just holds her close while he rubs soothing circles on her back and finally allows himself to calm his own heart, it’s a miracle it didn’t pop out of his chest.

When Bucky finally moves her away from his chest to get a good look at her his heart drops. She’s almost frozen in place. Angel’s gaze is unfocused and it’s as if she’s reliving something traumatic. His little girl starts to cry again and it would be several hours before he gets her to calm down.

Fresh air and sunshine. Bucky had decided that his daughter hadn’t had enough of it. So once he managed to feed her and change her diaper, with the help of Jenna, he decided to go on a walk. It was supposed to be simple. Take the stroller and sit Angel down. Except he couldn’t get the stupid stroller opened, he didn’t even know that was a thing. So he stood by Steve’s office with a closed stroller, a toddler and a bag with some extras in it, in hopes that his best friend could help him out.

Steve couldn’t.

It wasn’t until another agent walked by with some documents meant for Steve that they learned how to unfold the damned thing. He quickly showed them how to open and close the stroller before walking back the way he came.

With Angel strapped in, Bucky moved through the halls of the compound until he was finally outside. Bucky could see Angel’s head move from side to side as she took in everything around her. It was nothing special but he was sure she had never been outside in her short life. So trees and flowers and grass seemed like the most amazing things in the eyes of the three year old. Bucky pushed the stroller around for a while until he found a nice shady tree to sit under. He pulled out a blanket he had brought with him and laid it out before unbuckling his daughter and setting her down.

“Ok doll, C’mere.” After he settled down he opened the backpack he had packed and pulled out a book. He sat her down in his lap and flipped the book open and he began to read out loud.

You had left little post-it notes here and there to help Bucky. A list of favorite snacks on the fridge, her nap times and favorite toys in her room. In the bathroom mirror there was a post-it of what temperature the water should be and what products he should use when it was bath time. Anytime he found one he reminded himself to do something special as a thank you when you got back.

After giving his daughter a bath Bucky had grabbed her towel and wrapped her up before heading to her room. He opened the drawer you had mentioned that was full of pajamas and grabbed the first onesie and pajama pants he found.

“Ok doll, let’s get you nice and dry and ready for bed.” Bucky said as he laid his sweet Angel down, dried her properly and put on a diaper.

He reached over and grabbed the onesie and unfolded it, laughing once he realized what it said. A big you can do it dad sat in the middle in bold black letters while arrows labeled arms, head, legs and snap surrounded it. Once he was done dressing her he took his phone out and managed to get a picture of her smiling to show you later. He had done that a lot during the day, taking pictures of her. Bucky justified it by saying they were for your benefit. Surely you’d miss her and would want to know what she was up to for two days.

This routine would happen for not two days but four. And everyday Bucky got more anxious at the fact that you weren’t back yet.

Everyone had been on high alert at the end of the second day of your mission. There should have been communication that the mission had been completed and you were on your way back. Instead they were met with radio silence. Tony tried to locate all four phones but nothing. The jet couldn’t be located either.

It wasn’t until the early morning of the fifth day when a commotion at the gated entrance of the compound that the rest of the team knew something went horribly wrong. Tony, Bruce, Wanda, Vision, Steve and Bucky, along with medical staff were all waiting once the ambulance was allowed in. Clint hopped out of the driver's side and rushed to the back to open the doors. It wasn’t a surprise to see him battered and bruised. The medical team rushed after him and took over whatever was happening. Bucky’s heart all but stopped once he saw Clint, Sam and Nat walk around the ambulance and towards the rest of the group. They all looked bad but they could walk.

“Nat?” Bucky called out her name but she refused to look up at him. She felt guilty, he was sure of that. “Nat, what’s going-“ the words died on his tongue as the stretcher was finally pulled out.

You were unconscious as they wheeled you by. There was blood not only on your uniform but on the stretcher, it was too much blood. Bucky could see the gunshot wounds and the cuts and scrapes before noticing the piece of shrapnel sticking out from your side. He didn’t realize he had started following you until he stopped in his tracks and turned to look at the other three. He was furious, why were you the only one on the verge of death while the three of them seemed completely fine by comparison. Steve stepped between Bucky and the rest of the team that had gone on the mission. It was clear to see that Bucky was ready to rip their heads off.

“Walk it off, and go get your daughter.”

“But-“

“No buts, we don’t know what happened and they need to be checked out too. Once I talk to them I’ll let you know, now go.” Steve was stern and unmoving even Bucky tried to look around him. With a huff Bucky turned back in the direction of the building and disappeared inside.

“Steve, it all happened so fast.” Sam offered but Steve put his hand up.

“Go get checked out and cleaned up, we'll talk later.”

Sam’s shoulders sag as he started walking away. It was obvious that whatever happened was difficult for everyone and the last thing they needed was to get yelled at. Steve and the others knew it would be a long day and they decided to keep them company or wait to hear news about you.

Bucky sat in the waiting room with Angel in his lap for hours. He wouldn’t move until he knew you were at least ok. That you would live to see another day but the doctors were taking forever. The rest of the team had been in and out waiting to hear anything but Bucky’s mood kept them at bay. After a while Steve finally showed up and silently took the toddler from Bucky.

“So what happened?”

“It was a setup from the beginning. The minute they got into enemy airspace the jet was under attack.”

“Why didn’t they call for backup or turn around and come back?”

“They were being attacked from all sides, signals were jammed. The jet was lost, the only reason any of them are still alive was because Y/N managed to slow down the descent of the plane.” Steve said as he bounced Angel on his leg.

Bucky stood and began pacing. All he wanted was for you to be ok and then to find the assholes that did this.

“There’s more,” Steve said, causing Bucky to stop and turn to him, he waited silently for the rest. “It seems like hydra planned this hoping to capture whoever had been sent on the mission with the intention of trading them.”

“Trading them? For what?”

Steve didn’t say anything, instead his hold tightened a little around the toddler on his lap and his eyes shifted from Bucky to Angel. The sound of whirling plates could be heard in the otherwise quiet room as Bucky clenched his fist.

“Over my dead body.” Bucky said through gritted teeth.

“Apparently over Y/N’s too.” Steve sighed. “Listen, from what Sam, Nat and Clint said there was nothing they could do. They fought as hard as they could and they even had to steal a plane to get back. It was Y/N that saved them and in the process she got hurt. But she’s here now and in the cradle, I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.”

A few minutes later Dr. Cho appears in the waiting room with news that you’re out of the cradle. Dr. Cho had said that you would be fine, after being in the cradle for that long you were sure to recover in no time but she wasn’t going to clear you for missions for a while.

She leads Bucky and Steve to your room and gives them some privacy. Bucky holds his daughter in one hand and opens the door slowly with the other. He was surprised to see you alert although it seemed you were moving slowly. Most likely due to the pain medication they had given you. Before anyone was able to say anything, Angel’s gaze fell on you. Bucky could tell something was wrong immediately due to how her body tensed and shortly after she began to cry. It was an intense, deafening type of cry that left them rooted in place. Steve quickly grabbed her and muttered that he’d stay outside to calm her down. You frowned, concerned at what could have happened.

“What’s wrong?”

“She’ll be ok.” Bucky said as he moved to sit next to you. “It’s the second time I’ve heard her cry like that though.”

“You should go check on her, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“Ok.” He got up and kissed your forehead before walking back out. Even in the state you were in whatever was going on with Angel had you worried. You tried to fight off the need to sleep but whatever you had been given was stronger.

It must have been very late when you did finally wake up but you weren’t surprised to find Bucky sitting in the chair beside you. A book in his hand as he patiently waited for you.

“Buck.” You called out with a slightly gravelly voice.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” You huffed out as you tried to sit up. Bucky moved to help you get more comfortable in the bed. “How’s Angel?”

“She’s better now. I’m not sure what’s going on but Bruce said he’d run some tests.”

“Ok, good.” You frown slightly at the thought of her being hurt in some way or her being afraid of you.

“I have pictures of what we did these last few days. Wanna see them?” He asked in the hopes of distracting you for a while.

You nodded as Bucky pulled out his phone. The frown disappears from your face instantly as you scroll through the pictures. Bucky had taken pictures of her outside sitting on a blanket, multiple pictures of her sleeping soundly or with food all over her face. There were videos of her just giggling as she stood on her own and videos of her with Steve while he danced and sang along with Disney movies. It warmed your heart to see her so content and safe in the arms of her father.

“Told you you’d do a good job.”

“I know, but she missed you too. She kept pointing at your room almost silently asking for me to go get you.”

“Sweet baby, I hope she’ll let me hold her once I’m out.”

“I’m sure she will.” He smiles at you.

“So…”

“So what?” He gave you a confused look.

“What is her name? Please tell me you picked something.”

He smiles again and nods. “I did.”

“Ok and what is it?” You ask excitedly and he smiles.

“Charlotte Elise Barnes.”

Ch. 5

permanent taglist: @kunaikunari @rebekahdawkins @cjand10 @nalny5 @sturchling @angywritesstuff @seitmai @writing-for-marvel @goldylions @darkhairedmenrule @little--baby--bear @almosttoopizza @littleseasiren @teambarnes72

series tag list: @buckystevelove @vicmc624 @just-someone11

#my little love series #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #girl dad!bucky barnes #dad!bucky barnes x reader #slowish burn #idiots in love #bucky barnes x enhanced!reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes series

294 notes · View notes

anotherfuckingmarvelfanaccount · 9 months

Text

Uh, Guys?

My Masterlist

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader, Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: There Was Only One Bed, no smut (i know, rare for me these days), idiots in love. bi!reader, bc both bucky and natasha are hot and i’m so fucking gay. implied bi!natasha bc she also likes bucky. mentions of guns, shooting, blood, and medical supplies. nervous!reader. best friends to lovers x2. it’s just pretty fluffy

Word Count: 2417

Summary: You get put on a mission with both the infamous Winter Soldier and Black Widow to take down a Hydra base. You get shot and the extraction plan goes haywire but Tony knows a safe house. The only issue? There’s only one bed and you have a massive crush on both assassins.

“Okay, HYDRA missions are officially the worst.” You said into your comms, running through the halls, away from gunfire, towards the computer terminal. You threw the door closed behind you and quickly looked around for any agents or doors that could be used to attack you. Seeing that you were leaning against the only door, you grabbed a chair and shoved it under the doorknob.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Natasha asked through the comms.

You nodded before remembering she couldn’t see you. “Ah, yea-um, maybe.” You said, plugging the USB in. “I’m in the room with the computer, but I’m pretty sure I got shot.”

“I’m on my way to you, Y/N.” Bucky said, jogging towards where he knew the terminal was.

“Don’t bother, I shoved a chair under the door so nobody can get in and I’m not moving it just for you to carry me out of here. I’m fine, I’m still standing, and- oh, okay, I’m bleeding more than I thought, but I’m fine.” You replied, downloading all of the files on the computer for Tony and FRIDAY to sort through later.

Bucky sighed audibly through the door, “Really, N/N? Let me in please, just so you don’t accidentally bleed out alone?”

You checked the files to make sure they were downloading properly and moved the chair enough so you could open the door to make sure Bucky wasn’t being impersonated by a HYDRA agent. “What’s the password?” You asked, knowing that everyone on the team had a secret password with the other in case of something like this.

Bucky chuckled, rolling his eyes and leaning in the doorway slightly. “Monopoly.” You sighed dramatically and moved the chair out of the way, letting Bucky in. “You didn’t believe it was truly me?” He asked, dramatically offended.

“Buck, with the way technology is these days, they could probably clone you. Hell, the clone could know the code word and you’re not actually here with me, it’s an agent that’s gonna kill me.” You sat back down, continuously downloading their files and deleting them off the computer once you had them.

“Well, doll, you know that’s not it.” He said, leaning in the doorway to be able to watch you and the hallway.

You chuckled, watching the last of the files download. “Yeah, I know, but it could be.”

Bucky watched drops of blood continuously drip onto the floor. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look like you’re bleeding a lot.”

“I’m fine, Buck. This is not the first time I’ve been shot. It’s not important.” You said, pulling the USB out and turning to him.

“Where is it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My bicep is going to be fine.” You replied calmly, walking out of the room and jogging back towards where the three of you landed after parachuting out of the quinjet.

“Did you just try to convince me that your arm wasn’t important?!” Bucky shouted after you, jogging to catch up, the both of you running out of the building and to Natasha.

She raised an eyebrow at you and Bucky, motioning around to the empty clearing. “First of all, your arm is extremely important. Secondly, apparently, they booked more missions than extractions, so we have no way of getting home for the immediate future. Third, Tony has a safe house about 3 miles northeast of here, and he sent me the coordinates. Apparently we’re stuck together until at least morning.”

Bucky nodded at Natasha’s words and started walking northeast, you and Natasha following behind. You quickly fell into a rhythm of just following their footsteps as you got lost in your own head. It wasn’t that you were scared of Natasha or Bucky, not at all. You and Nat had been best friends for years, and Bucky was one of the only other people you would go to when you were feeling out of it. Your current issue was that you had feelings for them both, which had ruined your last relationship, since your ex-girlfriend figured out that she was not your priority. Cradling your arm to your chest, Natasha and Bucky finally realized you weren’t contributing to the conversation and turned to look at you.

“N/N?” Bucky asked softly, snapping you out of your trance. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You said, sighing. “This just hurts a little more than I thought. How much further do you think it is?”

Nat smiled, laughing at you a little. “Darling, it’s been 10 minutes. We have a while to go.”

“It’s not still bleeding, is it?” Bucky asked again.

“No, the bullet lodged in my shoulder, so it’s not bleeding. Let’s just go, please? I’d really like to sit down.” You replied, walking past them in the direction you had all started in.

Natasha and Bucky gave each other a look before Bucky jogged over to you, picked you up bridal style, and kept jogging. Nat was jogging after the two of you, figuring that Bucky would want to get you to the safe house, stitched up and bulletless as soon as possible before your injury got any worse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twenty minutes of light jogging and your complaining that you could walk perfectly fine and Bucky didn’t need to carry you anywhere passed the time quickly, and before you knew it, the three of you were standing on the porch of the safe house. Natasha opened the door and allowed Bucky to take you inside.

“Uh, guys? I may be hallucinating from blood loss, but there’s only one bed.” You said, tapping Bucky on the shoulder.

Natasha and Bucky shared a look, Bucky setting you down on the bed. “Tony did this on purpose.” She said, sitting next to you. “You know we’re gonna have to take your tac suit off to dress the wound, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” You said, wincing.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked, cradling your arm as he slid it out of your sleeve.

“I’m just in a bit of pain, and I’m not wearing a shirt underneath this.” Bucky’s eyes widened. “It’s comfier without the shirt and the fabric crinkles weirdly, but I’m wearing a bra.” You reassured him. “You aren’t gonna see everything, Buck.”

“I’ll still feel better if Nat does it.” He said, shifting his weight between his feet.

Nat glanced between the two of you. “I can’t do that. I can’t stitch wounds, Buck. It has to be you, especially because that’s Y/N’s dominant arm.”

“Yeah, I can’t pull the bullet out and stitch my own wound shut this time, unfortunately.” You said, shrugging with your unwounded arm. “But if it would make you feel better, Nat can help me out of my suit. I’m wearing a pair of shorts and I’m sure that there’s an extra shirt around here somewhere that I can wear.”

“I can absolutely help you out of your suit, honey.” Nat said, reaching for the zipper.

Bucky averted his eyes, blushing, as Nat helped you out of the mission-necessary tactical suit. “I’m gonna go find the medical kit I know Tony must have in here, shout when you’re ready for me.”

“Okay, Buck. Sure.” You said softly, wincing as your shot arm came out of the sleeve.

“Don’t mind his nervousness.” Nat said, moving towards the other shoulder. “He hasn’t really been with anyone since waking up from HYDRA and getting the trigger words taken out of his head. And I know he likes you, so that doesn’t probably make things better.”

Your eyes widened. “Bucky likes me?”

Natasha nodded quickly, “He’s not the only one. Do you have feelings for anyone?”

“I- um, yes? I just don’t want to say anything.” You said, averting your eyes from where Natasha was sliding your tac suit down your body.

“Why’s that?” She asked.

“I have feelings for more than one person. And I’m friends with them both and they’re friends.” You blurted out, feeling her hands skim over the band of your bra.

She nodded in response, slipping a finger in the band. “This is cute. Where’d you get it?”

“Ardene, you’d like it. I get a lot of stuff from there.” You breathed a sigh of relief that she was going to let this topic slide.

“Do I know either of them?” She asked, sliding your suit down further.

You nodded. “Both of them. Quite close, actually.”

“Am I?” You shivered slightly as you felt her breath ghost over your stomach. “You know it’s okay to talk about feelings, honey.” You hummed in agreement, mulling over in your head whether or not to tell her. “Buck or I won’t judge you.” Nat pulled your suit off and ran her hands up and down your calves a few times in a soothing motion.

Bucky popped his head back into the room. “What aren’t we judging?”

“Y/N has a crush on two people she’s friends with, they’re friends, and I’m apparently quite close to both of them.” Nat explained, keeping eye contact with you and slightly raising one eyebrow to make sure she got the facts right. You nodded once, sharply, fighting the urge to crawl under the covers and curl in on yourself.

“Oh, baby doll.” Bucky said, coming to sit next to you on the bed. “You know you can tell us anything.” He wrapped an arm around you and you burrowed your face into his chest. “Oh shit, this is something you’re really nervous about, isn’t it, doll?”

You nodded, knowing now you were going to have to tell both of them the truth. “I like you.” You said softly, knowing Bucky’s super-soldier hearing would pick it up.

“You like me, baby doll?” He asked, rubbing your back as Nat came to sit on your other side. You nodded again, attempting to burrow further into his chest. “Hey, that’s okay, sweet pea. I like you too.”

“Nat told me that.” You said softly, feeling the glare from your best friend burn into your back.

“Who’s the other one, N/N?” She asked sharply.

“You.” You said into Bucky’s chest, knowing he pointed at Nat when he heard you say it.

“Me?” Nat asked, surprised.

You nodded, pulling your head out of Bucky’s chest, but not willing to meet either of their eyes. “Of course it’s you guys. It’s always been the two of you there for me.” You paused, letting them mull over what you just said. “It’s why Meg and I split.”

Bucky turned you to face him so he could start pulling the bullet out of your shoulder. “How so, baby doll?” Nat rested her chin on your other shoulder, holding out a hand for you to squeeze.

“Well, she didn’t like the fact that I was constantly on missions, which is literally my job, so that didn’t help matters. But the other thing is that she said I looked at you guys differently than her, treated the two of you better.” You said, looking down and squeezing Nat’s hand.

Nat rubbed your back, knowing that if you hadn’t told the two of them this, you hadn’t told anyone. “She broke up with you because she could tell you liked us?”

You nodded. “She said that if she wasn’t my first priority then we weren’t meant to be. And work is always my priority.”

“But then it’s us?” Bucky asked softly, stopping the bleeding of the removal from the bullet before he stitched you shut again.

“Yeah.” You said softly. “She didn’t like that much.”

Bucky stitched you up, and as he had changed out of his suit while finding the medical kit, pulled his shirt off for you to wear. “Here, sweetheart. You’re all stitched up.”

“Oh, thank you, Buck.” You said, putting on his shirt, the nickname and his scent lighting your insides on fire. You sighed softly, curling up under the covers and rolling away from both of them, not knowing what to say to your two closest friends now that you had spilled your heart to them and they didn’t say anything.

Nat knelt next to you on the bed, gently placing a hand on your busted shoulder. “N/N, please don’t pout. Buck and I have talked, because we both like each other, and you. We want to try to make this work.”

Bucky knelt on the floor, cupping your face in his hands. “We don’t have to move quickly, baby doll, we just wanna be with you, if that’s something you’d be okay with.”

“Yeah.” You said softly. “I’d be okay with that. But how does something like this even work?”

“Baby, this is like any relationship, we’ll figure it out as we go. Communication and comprehension is key. And we’re pretty good at that.” Nat said, gently rolling you onto your back. “So why don’t we just start with cuddles? And we can go from there later.”

You nodded, moving over to the middle of the bed so they could both crawl in with you. “Is this okay? Or did you guys want to be closer to each other?”

“This is perfect, baby doll.” Bucky said, reaching across you to throw his arm over both you and Nat.

“Yeah, perfect.” Nat said, snuggling further into your side.

“Yeah, this is everything I’ve ever wanted.” You said, leaning your head against Nat’s while curling further into Bucky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Quick take a picture!” You heard somebody exclaim to wake you up. You were still very disoriented, having just woken up and you hadn’t even blinked your eyes open when light flashed behind them.

“What the fuck is that?” Nat mumbled into your shoulder, eyes closed still.

“I dunno.” You mumbled, wrapping an extra arm around her. “Don’ really care either.”

Bucky pulled you both closer. “It’s Sam and Steve here to pick us up.”

“But ‘m comfy ‘n sleepy.” You mumbled into Nat’s hair.

“I know you are, baby doll.” He said, beginning to untangle himself from the cuddle pile the three of you were in. “How about we all go for a nap back at the compound after we let your bullet wound actually get checked out?” Once untangled, Bucky picked you up in one arm and Nat in the other to carry you back onto the quinjet.

You nuzzled into his shoulder. “That sounds good.”

“So how did this all happen, punk?” Steve asked, taking you carefully from Bucky so neither you or Nat were dropped.

Bucky glanced between you and Nat fondly. “We’re all idiots.”

Taglist: @chrisevansdaughter, @buckybarnesandmarvel, @sarahrogersevans, @nana1000night

Let me know if you want to be added or removed!

Yall I am so sorry that it’s been so long since I posted, but this is finished now and I hope you like it. I hope to get a lot more fics out by the end of August bc then I’ll be moving and starting at a new school and it’s gonna be a whole thing.

75 notes · View notes