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delusionalwriterr · 4 months

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See Her Smile

Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: With Bucky being new to relationships, he’s still trying to learn how to handle things. But how does he handle things when you’re going through something you don’t even know how to handle yourself?

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: signs of depression, angst, fluff

A/N: GUESS WHO’S BACK FROM THE DEAD Y’ALL. i missed writing so much, but life keeps giving me reasons not to T_T this fic is based off of See Her Smile from Tick, Tick... Boom! it's been stuck in my head all week, and i couldn't help but write something about it.

Masterlist | Prompt List

–––––

You hear Nat cheer beside you as you watch Steve catch the ball that was thrown to him. “That’s my man!” she exclaims as you take a swig of water, watching the football team as they prepare for an upcoming game.

This wasn’t your normal scene. If you’d ask your freshman self if she’d be willing to sit in the sweltering heat to watch sweaty men push each other around, she would laugh it off and turn back to binge watching her favorite show on Netflix. It wasn’t until you started dating one of the university’s linebackers, Bucky Barnes, did you even begin to consider watching football matches and turning up to their practices all together.

“Come on, lighten up! Your man’s over there too,” Nat pipes up, briefly looking over at you before turning back to watch the team. You chuckle as your eyes land on his figure. You couldn’t exactly see his face, but you were able to spot him in the field considering you’ve been dating for about 4 months now. You let out a cheer as you watch him tackle another player to the ground. His head snaps towards the direction of your voice as he stands up. You can’t see it, but you knew he was smiling. He puts his hand on his chest before pointing at you, his way of saying, “That one’s for you!”

You grin, cheeks heating up at his gesture as you feel your chest swell. Nat turns to you, a sly smirk on her face as she sips her iced coffee. “I take it that things with you two are going well?” she asks, making you tear your attention away from the field. You grin even wider before answering, “Yeah, things are great.”

You have to admit, you’d never think you would end up dating a football player– and when Bucky approached you one night at a random party to ask you out, you halfheartedly said yes, expecting that he would just take you to a random sports bar and try to hook up with you the same night. Fortunately, the date went better than expected with him bringing you to his favorite taco truck downtown and driving you to one of those retro drive-in movie theaters. However, he failed to check what movie they were playing that night and had the both of you watch a random Scandinavian film with no subtitles. In the end, the two of you decided on staying in the car and get to know each other more with the movie long discarded in the background.

Eventually, you ended up going on a few more dates after that and got to know how sweet he really was. Sure, he was still a jock and was still getting a hang of being in a committed relationship, but you could see him actively put the effort in it so you were more than happy.

You hear their coach blow his whistle, signaling the end of their practice which prompts you and Nat to jump from your seats and head down to the field to meet Bucky and Steve. Nat gets there first, crashing into Steve’s embrace, almost knocking him over. You laugh at the interaction before your eyes land on Bucky’s. With his helmet off, you have the opportunity to finally see his face. His hair was flat from his helmet with a few strands clinging to his forehead, the eye black on his cheeks smudged due to the sweat, and his mouth stretched into that boyish grin you grew to love.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” he asks playfully as you approach him. He puts his helmet down to wipe the beads of sweat on his face. “Just looking for some hot jocks to kiss,” you tease, earning a laugh from him before he wraps his arms around your waist. “Find anyone you like?” he plays along. You smile, snaking your arms to the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah, I got one right here,” you giggle as you pull him into a kiss. It was soft and slow, and you could taste the saltiness of the sweat on his upper lip, but you didn’t care.

“Hello to you too, dollface,” you hear him mumble between your lips before pulling away. “I’m taking Steve to that new pizza place that just opened near campus, come with us?” he asks, shaking his head which elicited droplets of sweat to fly towards you much to your disgust. “You’re such a boy for doing that,” you grumbled. “But yeah, count me in.”

He smiles, but before he could get another word in, Nat interjects, “Count me in, too!”

Bucky shakes his head, “Nuh uh, you’re not invited. Steve told me how sick he was of you and how loud you snore when you sleep.” Nat gasps before playfully hitting Steve in the chest, earning an “ow” from him. “You told Bucky?!” she shrieks, but before she could protest even more, Steve pulls her into a kiss, muttering a quick “I love you”, then runs towards the shower room. Bucky turns back to you, giving you a swift kiss. “Pick you, guys, up in 20.”

As he was leaving, he looks back over at Nat and lets out a few loud snores, prompting her to throw a handful of dirt towards him. “Screw you, Buchanan!”

–––––

A few days later, Bucky walks out of the field, his bag hanging from his shoulder, a cold breeze brushing through him as he begins to walk back to campus. “Hey, Buck, solid practice today,” Sam Wilson, one of the tackles, pipes up from behind him. “Yeah, man, good job today,” Bucky replies, giving his teammate a fist bump. “Me and Parker are gonna grab a few drinks, you coming?”

Bucky laughs, the thought of Parker getting tipsy over a few pints entering his mind. He shakes his head, “I’ll pass tonight, man. Might go see my girl.”

Sam smirks before clasping a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Alright, see you around.”

“Hey, take care of Parker, alright? Don’t want his aunt to find out he got wasted over a few cocktails!” Bucky calls out, earning a cackle from his teammate as he walks away.

He checks the time to find out practice ended a few minutes early so he sends you a quick message, knowing you’re probably still in class.

hey doll practice finished early

want me to walk you to your dorm? i should be able to swing by to pick you up from class

He waits for a few minutes before hearing a ping from his phone, gaze immediately falling to the screen.

no need. didn’t go to class today wasn’t feeling well.

oh? you want me to bring you some soup?

no its ok. thank u tho

anything for you, baby

do you want me to come over tho?

maybe next time, bucky. sorry

Bucky frowns, taking notice of the difference in the way you typed. You were colder than usual and you’d usually want to see him even when you weren’t feeling the best. He’s a bit disappointed too, wanting to take care of you until you get better, but knows to respect your wishes. So he brushes it off.

He shoots you a quick text saying he hopes you feel better soon before messaging Sam to say he’ll catch up with him and Parker in a few.

Looks like he’ll take up Sam’s offer after all.

–––––

Bucky cranes his neck over to the bleachers, but frowns when his eyes land on Nat sitting alone. You didn’t come to his practice today. Bucky would’ve been fine about it, but he knows you didn’t have any conflicting classes at this time and you would’ve messaged him beforehand if you weren’t able to come for whatever reason.

“Maybe she’s still feeling under the weather,” Steve reasons, following his best friend’s gaze towards the seats.

Bucky nods absentmindedly in response, “Yeah, I guess so.”

He was trying so hard to hide the fact that he was getting increasingly worried. He also doesn’t want to seem too clingy considering you’ve only been seeing each other for a short time. He’s only been in a handful of serious relationships before, and most of them happened when he was still a clueless teenager in highschool. You were the first person he was willing to be fully committed to after a few months of fooling around in college so he definitely does not want to screw things up.

After practice, he asks Nat if she knew where you were only to find out that Nat was just as clueless as he was. With a huff, Bucky fishes his phone out of his pocket.

missed you at practice today. still feeling sick?

“Hey,” Steve calls from behind him, Nat trailing closely behind. “Nat and I are gonna go study at the library, see you there?”

Bucky snorts. “By study at the library you mean get frisky by the shelves at the back? Yeah, I think I’ll pass.”

Steve laughs as Nat drags him away from the field, patting Bucky’s back comfortingly before fully parting ways. This action goes unnoticed as Bucky’s eyes remain glued to his phone, waiting for your reply.

A few minutes pass and he grows antsy. He hesitantly types another message.

baby?

This time, you read the message, but still don’t reply. Bucky runs his hand through his hair, a sign that he was growing anxious. He looks around the field, desperately trying to find someone to talk to so he could take his mind off of you. To his dismay, the rest of the team either left or were still in the showers.

Bucky thinks about his next move.

i’m coming over.

He quickly stuffs his phone in his pocket and practically sprints over to your dorm, a million things racing in his mind. His chest tightens at the thought of you being in trouble, not really knowing what to expect when he sees you. If he sees you.

Bucky shakes his head to get rid of the image of him turning up at your dorm only to find it empty– he wouldn’t know where to begin looking for you considering you won’t reply to his messages. This is the first time you acted like this towards him, and Bucky tries to recall everything he’s said to you lately, attempting to think of anything that could have upset you. His pace slows down as he begins to question if he was overthinking things, his mind tricking him into thinking that he was being too clingy and it might turn you off. But with the absence of your replies and the assurance that you’re okay, Bucky’s strides become bigger and he picks up speed towards your dorm.

A head of brown hair meets his gaze as the door to your apartment swings open upon his knock. “Hey, Wanda,” Bucky greets your roommate, chest heaving and beads of sweat adorning his forehead. “I’m sorry for barging in all of a sudden. Is she..?”

Before he could finish his sentence, Wanda nods, opening the door wider for him to come in. Bucky nods his head as he enters. “She’s in her room,” Wanda mumbles before closing the door behind him.

Bucky mutters a “thank you” before walking towards your door, about to turn the handle, but hesitates for a second. Slowly taking his hand off the brass knob, he raises a hand and places two soft knocks on the door. “Doll,” he calls, loud enough that he’s sure you hear him, but gentle enough to not startle you. When he doesn’t hear a reply, he continues, “Can I come in?”

A few seconds later, a soft click from the other side fills his ears. Bucky takes this as a signal to slowly turn the knob and peak inside. He barely caught a glimpse of you walking back to your bed before he sees you pull the covers back to climb in, reassuming the position he figured you were in before you unlocked the door.

Bucky steps inside and if it wasn’t for him shutting the door behind him, separating the two of you from the noises outside your bedroom, he wouldn’t have heard the sniffles that were coming out of your mouth. Your back was facing him, but he can clearly tell that you were hugging your knees to your chest as you tried to control your breathing, desperately attempting to conceal your cries.

“Baby…” he breathes, approaching you cautiously and planting himself by your feet. Only then does he catch a glimpse of your face, your eyes puffy and cheeks tinted pink, presumably from crying for an extended period of time. Bucky frowns upon seeing you in this state. He’s seen you cry before, but it was usually from a sad movie or being stressed with homework. He doesn’t know why you are crying now, but he’s determined to find out. He places a hand on one of your calves and begins to rub soothing circles on it. “Did something happen?”

You shake your head, not trusting your voice as you begin to wipe the tears that were still trickling down your cheeks. “Wanna tell me why you’re crying?” Bucky persists, eyes still fixed on you. You shrug and the room falls silent as you close your eyes.

Bucky hears you take a deep breath before finally piping up. “Just feeling a little down,” you mumble, voice hoarse and barely loud enough for Bucky to catch. He moves his hand from your calf to one of your feet, giving it a soft squeeze before beginning to slowly press on its sole, easing the tense muscles and giving you a brief moment of peace.

Bucky tries to think of what to say, but is interrupted by the sound of his phone going off. Clicking his tongue, he grabs his phone to find a text from Pietro.

hey wya? im at the study hall

Cursing to himself, he suddenly remembers that he and Pietro agreed to meet tonight to work on a project they were partners in. Typing a quick reply to say that he’s on his way, he turns back to you before leaning over to press a kiss on your temple. “We all get blue sometimes, doll. We just gotta hang on, you know?” he attempts to comfort you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I gotta run, promised Pietro we’d do that project tonight. But I hope you feel better soon, baby. If you need anything, just text me, okay?”

–––––

You don’t text him at all that night.

In fact, if it wasn’t for the good morning text Bucky sent the next day, Bucky thinks you wouldn’t have texted him at all. Your replies grew colder and you became more distant, and Bucky was suffering.

“Dude, what’s up? If you’re not busy being a total grump, you’re staring at your phone like you’re expecting something to pop out of it,” Steve points out as he, Bucky, and Nat sit in the cafeteria to have lunch. Bucky grumbles before slamming his phone face down on the table and sliding it away from him. “It’s (Y/N),” he starts, “she’s been acting off for days now.”

Steve and Nat share a look before Nat pipes up, “Have you tried asking her why?” Bucky scoffs. “Well, duh!” Bucky exclaims, running his hands through his hair. “I went over to her’s last night, but she just told me she was just feeling a little down.”

“And what did you say?” Steve asks. Bucky’s eyes meet his friend’s as he sighs. “I told her everyone gets sad and that we should just hang on. I left after that because I had to do that history project with Maximoff.”

The table falls silent and Bucky begins to zone out, thinking that the conversation would end there, but is quickly brought back to reality when something hits him dead center in the face. “Ow!” Bucky shouts as his hand flies up to cradle his nose. His eyes land on the table, a bread roll laying in front of him, causing his gaze to shoot up at the red head sitting across him. “Did you just throw a bread roll at me?” Bucky asks, his eyes wide with disbelief and confusion.

“Well, duh!” Nat mocks, rolling her eyes at the brunette. “I always thought football players were dumb because of how much trauma their heads go through every game, but you’re on a whole ‘nother level, Buchanan.”

Bucky blinks. “Care to elaborate?”

Nat lets out an exasperated sigh before Steve butts in, “She’s obviously going through something, Buck. You can’t just tell her to suck it up.”

“Hellooooo!” Nat interjects, waving her hand in front of Bucky’s face as if what they were pointing out was the most obvious thing in the world. “She isn’t some jock going through a losing streak or something, actually be there for her, you know?”

“Would you cut me some slack? It’s the first serious relationship I’ve been in since highschool, I’m still getting a hang of things again,” Bucky glares. He eyes the bread roll in front of him before giving in and grabbing it to take a bite. Nat watches him, a look of disgust adorning her face.

The three of them sit in silence as Bucky contemplates on what to do. He picks up his phone to see no new messages from you, but his eyes catch the time. He knows you don’t have classes right now, and he figures you would just be in your dorm. He doesn’t want to ruin things with you, so he jolts up from his seat, catching the attention of the couple in front of him. “I’m gonna fix this,” he mumbles to himself before storming out of the cafeteria to head over to you.

“Atta boy!” Steve calls after him.

Bucky can feel his heart in his throat as he shakily knocks on your front door. To his surprise, you answer the door this time. His mouth starts to form a smile, but quickly turns into a frown when he takes in your form. At first, his heart skipped a beat when he noticed that you were wearing one of his shirts which was too big for you, the hem of it ending just by your thighs, and the bottom of one of his boxers peeking through it.

But once he caught the way your shoulders were slumped and the dark circles around your eyes, he knew better than to celebrate. “Hey,” he exhales, flashing a sad smile, “can I come in?”

You nod wordlessly before leaving the door ajar and making your way towards the couch. Bucky steps inside, shutting the door behind him before following suit. He sighs when he sees you on the couch, knees tucked closely to your chest and you watch whatever show is playing on the TV, eyes in an absent daze.

He takes a seat beside you, draping an arm across the back of the couch only for you to launch yourself towards him like it’s a reflex. You wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face into his chest as he instinctively encases you in an embrace. Bucky’s heart breaks as he hears you rack out a sob, his thumb beginning to rub circles on your shoulder.

He gently places a kiss on your forehead as he feels his shirt become damp with your tears. “I’m sorry for leaving so soon the last time I was here,” he mumbles, lips still pressed to your temple.

You don’t answer back right away and Bucky is forced to listen to you cry, his heart shattering after every noise that comes out of your mouth.

“It’s just a drag,” you say between sniffles, “the world’s so mean.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows, not really understanding what you mean, but tries to think of something to say. His conversation with Steve and Nat replay in his mind as he desperately thinks of a reply, determined not to mess things up like last time.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, testing out the waters. He takes note of your silence and whispers, “Something’s breaking my baby’s heart and I wanna know what.”

You let out a soft huff. “That’s the problem. I don’t know why I feel so down.”

The room falls silent. Bucky could hear his heartbeat in his ears, he felt his hands grow sweaty, his throat became dry, and his eyes began to prickle as tears started to form. He prays to whoever was listening before he asks.

“Is it me?”

“No, god no,” you shoot up, detaching yourself from him much to his dismay. Your eyes wide as he stares back at you with the same expression. Bucky looks down and begins to fiddle with his hands, another nervous tick of his, and you realize why he’s been so persistent about finding out what was making you upset.

Bucky was afraid that he was the reason you’re in pain.

You attempt to pacify his thoughts by placing your hands on both sides of his face. Bucky lets out a shaky breath as he leans into one of your hands, peppering it with feather-like kisses. You give him a teary smile. “It’s just that life’s so hard sometimes, you know?”

Bucky gives you a smile in return, a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he stares at you, trying to dig through the deepest parts of his brain to come up with something, anything, that could possibly make you feel better.

But before he could, you remove your hands from his cheeks and place them on your own as you wipe tears that you didn’t even know were flowing down your face. You stand up, causing Bucky to look at you in confusion. “You should go.”

“What? No,” he protests, standing up following you as you begin to walk towards the front door. Bucky’s mind is racing.

Come on, dumbass, say something. Anything!

He opens his mouth, “Baby–”

“I just need to rest, Buck,” you interrupt, opening the door. “It’s not you, I promise.”

You press a kiss on his cheek as he looks down at you with sad eyes.

You let out a small smile, “I’ll text you, okay?”

–––––

But you don’t.

You don’t text him even the day after that.

Bucky’s mind was spinning. He felt absolutely helpless, and if it wasn’t for the harsh sound of a whistle filling his ears, he wouldn’t have snapped out of his daze.

“Barnes!” the voice of his coach was enough for him to remember that he was in fact in the middle of the football field in the middle of practice. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you lately, but if you can’t pull yourself together then you’re benched for the next game. You hear me?” the coach shouts from across the field.

Bucky nods absentmindedly before shouting back, “Sorry, coach!”

He shakes his head, trying to retain focus and deciding to pay you one more visit later. Bucky didn’t know what to do nor say, but he sure isn’t leaving your dorm without mending things.

He sets those thoughts aside for now, and turns his attention back to his team.

Bucky figured he had totally zoned out during practice because it was only when Steve sat beside him did he realize that practice was over. “(Y/N) still not feeling okay?” Steve asks, sympathy dripping from his every word as he looks at Bucky whose eyes were going through all of the unanswered texts he sent you today.

good morning, doll

hope you’re feeling at least a little better today :)

–

don’t forget to eat

<33

–

just finished my trigonometry exam lol pretty sure i flunked it

–

call me if you need anything, okay?

–

found out parker has a gf lmaooo

i kept denying it til he introduced her to the whole team

you’d like her :) she’s smart like you

–

i miss you

please text me back

–

heading to practice

i miss you so much, doll

Bucky drops his head in his hands, tears threatening to spill. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Stevie,” he croaks. “I just wanna see her smile again.”

–––––

He’s met with Wanda again as the door to your dorm swings open. “Is she here?” Bucky stutters, not even bothering to apologize for showing up unannounced. Wanda shakes her head, “No, she’s been gone since last night.”

Bucky’s eyes widen as he swears he almost felt his heart stop at Wanda’s words. His breathing quickens and his chest grows tight as Wanda ushers him into the apartment. “What do you mean she’s been gone since last night? Has she talked to you today?” Wanda shakes her head again, “I’ve been texting her since this morning, but she hasn’t replied to any of it.”

Bucky runs his hands through his hair as he begins to think about what could’ve happened to you. He starts to make a list of who to call, frantically trying to think of ways to locate you. This was it, he thought. This was how he lost you forever. If he just knew what to say at the right time, if he had just been a good boyfriend to you, this wouldn’t have happened and you wouldn’t be gone.

He can’t breathe, his mind begins to scramble and his vision turns foggy. Bucky clutches a hand to his chest to try and ground himself, forcing himself to think.

Think, Barnes, think!

Just as he was about to dial 911, they hear the sound of keys rattling from the other side of the door causing both his and Wanda’s heads to snap towards its direction. Bucky holds his breath, uttering a dozen prayers in his head, hoping that it was you.

It’s only when he sees you walk through the door did the tears finally start to flow. He bounds over to you and instantly throws his arms around you, pushing your head towards his chest. Bucky silently thanks whoever granted his prayers as one of his hands fly to rest behind your head before placing a bruising kiss on your forehead. After this, he rests his chin on top of your head and looks up, desperately trying to keep any more tears at bay.

“I’ve been worried sick, doll, where were you?” he asks, trying to hide the fact that he’s been crying, but the crack in his voice gives it away. “Hmpff mff humff,” he hears you mumble against his chest, drawing a teary chuckle from him as he pulls away. “Sorry, come again?”

“I went over to my parents to try and cheer myself up, I’m sorry I should’ve told you where I was going, I had my phone off the whole day and—”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bucky laughs breathlessly, pulling you back into him. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

He sees Wanda slowly retreat back into her room to give you space. The two of you stand there in silence, holding each other as you relish in the feeling of being in each other’s arms.

“I don’t know if I’m okay, honestly,” you say, quietly.

“And that’s perfectly fine, too,” Bucky replies, cradling your face in his hands. “Listen I know I haven’t been dealing with this as best as I could but—”

“No, Bucky–”

“Let me finish, doll. I know I'm still trying to find my footing with all of this, but I want you to know that I'll be here no matter what, okay? When you’re happy, when you’re sad, or even when you don’t know what you’re feeling.”

You smile at him gratefully, resting your hands on top of his. “I don’t know what’s been going on with me recently. I think college is just getting to me or something. It feels like I always wanna find the rain even on a sunny day, you know?”

Bucky continues to stare into your eyes, sadness glazing over them. You shake your head and begin to pull away, “Forget it, it sounds stupid–”

“Woah hey, no,” Bucky interjects, placing his hands on your hips. “It doesn’t sound stupid. I may not fully understand what you’re feeling, but I’m here, aren’t I?”

You shake your head. “I really don’t wanna drag you into this, you have so many things on your plate–”

You’re interrupted by Bucky placing his lips on yours, engulfing you in a kiss so passionate, it takes your breath away.

“But I’m in it for the long run with you,” he mutters against your lips.

You stumble because for the months you’ve been together, the future never really fell into conversation between the two of you. With your schedules being so hectic, you and Bucky wordlessly settled with just going with the flow, and you were fine with that. But upon hearing the words leave Bucky’s lips, you began to think what this meant.

Bucky tenderly places his hands back on your cheeks, rubbing them softly in order to soothe you. “If it feels like life is dragging you down, then hang on ‘cause I'll be your bodyguard,” he starts, earning a soft chuckle from you which urges him to continue. “If you feel like the whole world is a red flag, then I'll be with you to look for the green, and hell, if you wanna find rain on a sunny day then I’ll be there to dance all through the pain with you, doll.”

Tears start to flow down your face, once again, as you smile. You smile in a way that Bucky hasn’t seen from you for the past few days. He smiles back.

“But you gotta try to talk to me, okay?” he pipes up, wiping your tears with his thumbs before pressing another kiss on the top of your head. “I know I’m a meathead, but I promise I wanna try to understand what you’re feeling so I can help.”

You nod against his lips as Bucky lets out a breath. You stay that way for a while, and Bucky was already satisfied with how the conversation turned out, vowing himself not to push you further into talking things out. It isn’t until he hears you mumble the words he’s been longing to tell you for so long that he feels his world come to a halt.

“I love you.”

This is the first time these words were uttered between the two of you, and Bucky feels his chest tighten again, but this time, it was due to an overwhelming sense of joy. He pulls you tighter against him before breathing out, “I love you too. So much.”

It was then Bucky realized that he didn’t need to mend things when you’re feeling this way. As much as he’d like to take away the pain, he knew that reminding you that he’ll always be there despite it is, and always will be, enough.

–––––

A/N: hope you guys liked this one! highly recommend listening to the song itself, cuz it brings me so much comfort and i hope it brings you comfort too! <33

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes au #buck barnes college au #marvel #the avengers #football player!bucky barnes #college!bucky barnes

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mxaether · 4 months

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Have you read this???? Because it’s amazing, and I adore it, and now I’ve made ART FOR IT because I love @buckyismybicycle 💖💓✨💕

Go read it here click me

#Bucky Barnes #hockey player Bucky Barnes #captain america #my art #stucky #art #fanart #gift art for my pal

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inmyicyworld · 10 months

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Jersey

College! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Natasha’s idea of getting a jersey with Bucky’s name turned out to be much better than you expected.

Words count: 3.2k

Warnings: established relationships, SMUT, unprotected sex (but they’re both safe and clean), dirty talk, sex in the locker room, a lot of pet names, Bucky is needy and caring, he’s deeply in love.

Author’s note: hey everyone! thank you for your feedback on my last posts, it means a lot to me. so this is my first smut, and I hope you’ll enjoy it. (I became creative with that photo of the red jersey because I couldn’t find a perfect picture, so I edited it for like half an hour😭)

I have many ideas for my future works, but you have something interesting in mind, feel free to write me about it. Maybe I get some inspiration and create something🩷🦋

*English is not my first language. Sorry if you find any mistakes*

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

It’s been another game for the "Avengers", where your boyfriend Bucky Barnes was a quarterback. Today was one of the most important games against "Hydra" – their biggest enemy. Obviously, you couldn't miss the game, and Natasha, your best friend and roommate, will be with you as always. And right now, she has convinced you to do something that has been on your mind for a long time.

"C’mon, It’ll be fun. He’ll like it, I promise!" She said as you two stood near the place that made custom t-shirts with any prints. And at this moment, Natasha wanted you to order a jersey with Bucky’s number and his name on it.

"I don’t know, Nat. I mean, I want to do it, but what if he thinks that it’s too much?" You nervously played with the hem of your skirt.

"Now stop it." She stood before you and put her hand on her hips like a mother who was scolding her child. "You’ve been dating for more than a year, and his guy loves you so fucking much that he can’t even tear his eyes from you every time you two are in the same room. So when I tell you that he’ll love it, I mean it." You silently looked at her for a few minutes, but when she questionably raised her eyebrow, you finally gave up.

"Fine, you won. I hate you."

"I love you too, baby." Nat chuckled and dragged you to the store.

It seemed like there were thousands of people because everyone wanted to see one of the most important games of the season. People were already taking their seats, but you and Nat went straight to the locker room to wish the guys good luck. Trainer Fury was very strict about this, and it was forbidden for people not from the team to go there, but for some reason Nat always found a way to solve this problem.

"Guys!" Natasha loudly knocked at the door. "Are all of you already dressed up? I’m not in the mood to see somebody’s ass today!"

"Come in!" You heard Thor’s loud voice.

"Oh, I see our support group is here." As soon as you two walked in, Sam ended up between you and Nat and threw his hands over your shoulders, leading you deeper into the room. "Barnes will be here soon; don’t worry."

"Okay. Are you guys ready to beat their asses?" You smiled and looked at the almost entire team that had come to see you and Nat.

"Don’t worry, Sweets, we’ll win, as always." Tony answered you while he was cleaning his helmet. "But you should tell your boyfriend to stay away from Rumlow, or else he’ll be suspended again. By the way, is that jersey with his name?" You quietly nodded as the whole team made an impressive ‘woo’ together.

"You two are disgustingly sweet, you know that?" Sam rolled his eyes, and at the same time, the door slammed. "It’s him; go give him some kisses for luck."

"Shut up, Samuel." You laughed and left their little circle to find Bucky looking at his phone. "Don’t you want to say hi, James?" He moved his eyes to you, and his face immediately lit up with happiness.

"I just wanted to text you." He threw his phone on the bench and came closer to wrap his arms around you. "Hi, doll. I missed you so much today." He mumbled into your neck.

"I missed you too, Buck." You smiled when your heart filled with all the love you had for that man. "But wait, I have to show you something." You slipped out of his hands, excited and nervous at the same time. "Look what I’ve got!" You happily turned around to show Bucky your back and flipped your hair to the side so he could see everything better. "Do you like it?"

You had a big red jersey on you, to which Bucky didn't even pay attention at first. But when you turned around, his mouth went dry and his whole body became fuzzy. You had his number 17 and the word "Barnes" on your back. You were wearing his name.

For a few seconds, he was silent. He didn't answer your answer either, so with confusion written on your face, you faced him again, only to see a weird look on his face.

"What? You don't like it? Should I take this off? I'm sorry…" You started to apologize, only to be interrupted by his low voice.

"Don't you dare take this off, Y/N." He suddenly came closer to you again, and the next thing you knew, your back was slapped against the metal lockers when Bucky’s lips attacked you. He kissed you passionately and deeply, pressing his body against yours as if he was desperate to touch you and feel you closer. You couldn’t hold back the quiet moan that escaped your mouth when he tilted your head with his hand, helping his tongue slip into your mouth.

You thought that you heard the screams of the boys on the other side of the room, but they were really muffled when your head was filled with the thought of your boyfriend’s soft lips and warm skin. Bucky finally broke the kiss, leaving you two catching your breath while he put his forehead on yours and closed his eyes.

"You don’t understand what you’re doing to me. You look so fucking hot in this jersey, I want to fuck you right now." He whispered so only you could hear. "You made me hard, doll." To prove his words, he pushed his hips a little bit closer to you so you could feel the hardness.

"‘M sorry; I didn’t know that you would react like that."

"Hey, Buck, we should already go." Bucky’s grip on your waist became only tighter, when he heard Steve’s voice, and he nuzzled into your neck.

"Give me a minute."

"The game is gonna start soon."

"I said, give me a minute, Steve!" He said it louder. Bucky deeply inhaled, and it was obvious that he just needed some time to calm down.

"Shh, it’s okay, James." You put your hands through his hair because you knew that it would instantly relax him. "You're gonna win this game, right? And without fights."

"I’ll do everything for you. I just love you so much, doll." He whispered into your neck when his body finally relaxed and he was able to move away from you.

"I love you too, James." He quickly kissed you again before turning around to face the team, who had knowing smirks on their faces.

"You two should get a room." Sam had an annoyed look on his face.

"Don’t worry, Birdbrain, we will. Are you ready for the game, or are you gonna stand here and complain all day?" Bucky winked at you and went out of the room without waiting for the answer from Sam.

"So…" Natasha suddenly appeared near you. "Did you make The White Wolf hard by just wearing a shirt with his name on it?" She grinned, as it was her original plan that worked.

"Oh, shut up!"

The game was tough. Hydra played dirty as always, and Bucky almost got into a fight with Rumlow during the intense moment. You almost jumped out of the seat during the last few minutes of the game, and when "Avengers" finally won, you and Natsha screamed at the top of your lungs.

As soon as the team was done cheering and hugging, Bucky looked at the seat where you were supposed to be but saw only Nat, who pointed at you already standing near the rim. He ran to you with the biggest smile on his face, and when he finally reached you, he crushed his lips into yours.

You didn’t care that many people looked at you, even though you knew that some particular groups of girls would gossip about it for the next week because… well, everyone wanted your boyfriend. You just wrapped your hands around his sweaty neck and pulled him closer to you as far as you could with a fence between you two.

"I’m so proud of you, baby." You whispered into his lips. "You were amazing as always."

"Thank you, doll. I'm happy that you’re here with me." He looked into your eyes as his right thumb rubbed your cheek.

"You know I couldn’t miss your game, especially if it’s that important."

"Mhm, can you… come to the locker room in like twenty minutes?" Bucky nervously licked his lips.

"To the locker room? I thought we were going to celebrate it with the team as always."

"Maybe later, but I’m thinking of something, so come, ‘kay?" He started to go back to the field, but not before giving you another sweet kiss on the lips.

You sat in the cafeteria for about twenty minutes, passionately waiting for the appropriate time to go to the locker room because you really didn’t want to see another naked man that wasn’t your boyfriend. One such experience was enough for you. You asked Nat to come with you, but when you repeated Bucky’s words to her, she just gave you a mysterious smirk and patted you on the shoulder, saying that you better go there alone.

When you finally got there and knocked on the door, you heard only Bucky’s voice, who told you to come in.

"James? What’s going on?" You asked as you came further into the room. It was empty except for Bucky, who came out of nowhere and locked the door. "What are you doing?"

He didn’t answer you; he just crossed the room, kissed you, and pushed your back into the metal lockers, just as he did it a few hours ago. He was greedy, passionate, and a little bit too rough, so you couldn’t keep the moan from escaping your mouth. Bucky’s hands squeezed your hips and then went higher under your jersey.

"Bucky…" You pulled away from the kiss, but he took advantage of it and started kissing your neck. Your eyes rolled back as you squeezed his shoulders and completely forgot everything you wanted to say. He sucked your soft skin into his mouth and even bit you. It was obvious that he desperately wanted to leave dark marks on your neck, but, honestly, you didn’t care. He smelled too good fresh out of the shower, with his bare chest and low-rise gray sweatpants, and his mouth… God, you knew what his mouth could do. "Baby, we can’t do it here."

"We can, and we will." He left your neck and looked at you, leaving only a few inches between your faces. "You can’t imagine how hard it was for me not to bend you over the closest surface when you showed me that fucking shirt. With my name on it? So everyone could see that you’re mine?" Bucky licked his already swollen lips. You pressed your thighs together, feeling how wet you were. He definitely felt that motion because his eyes became darker, and he looked like he was going to devour you at that same place.

"James…" You quietly whimpered, not being able to hold yourself anymore.

"Baby, fuck– doll, I love it when you call me that. You drive me insane." He decided not to lose any more time, so his hands went straight to the button of your jeans. He helped you get out of them, not losing a chance to touch your bare legs. "Now turn around, baby." You heard a deep moan, probably when he saw the back of the shirt again.

"Bucky, please." You whispered when you felt that more juices came out of you. You loved when your boyfriend became needy and possessive.

"Look at you, doll. You're already ready for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet." He said that when he put his hand over your pussy, he probably felt the heat and pulse. "I would’ve eaten you out, but I need you too fucking much, so I promise to do it when we get to my place."

"O-okay, just do something, please." You pushed your ass back and heard a loud, deep moan as soon as you touched Bucky’s hard cock through his pants. You put your hands behind your back to try to push down his clothes, and at the same time, Bucky removed your black thongs.

You felt his hard cock on the bare skin of your ass, the tip already leaking with pre-cum. Bucky squeezed your ass with his hands and moved his hips. His perfectly shaped cock grinded against your wet folds, and you couldn’t stop a whimper from escaping your throat.

"Please, don’t tease me–" You didn’t even finish the sentence when Bucky moved forward and buried himself deep inside of you. The mixture of pain and pleasure washed over you, and you didn’t even realize that you moaned too loudly. He was too perfect, filling you completely and stretching you around him in the most delicious way.

"Sh-h, sweetheart, you don’t want other people to hear you, right?" One of Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt and laid on your stomach, and the other one covered your mouth, pulling you closer to his chest. "Good girl." He mumbled into your ear when you shook your head.

Bucky pulled away from you, still staying deep inside of your heat, letting you adjust to his size. He put one hand from your mouth on your back, which made you lean forward toward the lockers. The cold metal cooled your hot skin, but it still felt like you were burning inside.

Bucky finally started moving his hips, and the filling of his dick coming in and out of you made you almost faint. You two had sex a million times, but it still amazed you how full and satisfied he made you feel.

"That’s right, doll. You’re so greedy for my dick, huh?" He started to go faster, and you tried to move your body to his rhythm. "Was this your plan? Showing me that fucking jersey, so I could fuck you like a little slut you actually are?" His hand went over your back, tracing letters on your shirt with his fingers, and his motions became harder. In fact, it wasn’t your idea, but you should definitely thank Natasha because you really didn’t expect your boyfriend to become even more obsessed with you.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, and you clenched around Bucky’s cock, making him moan. "I feel how you’re clenching ‘round me. I know that you like it when I call you my slut. Only mine."

"Yes, Bucky– James, please." A sudden slap on your right cheek pulled another moan out of you, and Bucky just chuckled, knowing that you’re always loud with him.

"Please what, baby?"

"Let me cum, please– James! I’m so close." You felt too overwhelmed with pleasure, not even realizing that you started crying when his fingers moved to your clit, drawing little circles there.

"Fuck, one day I’m gonna make you Mrs. Barnes, so you will have a well-damn reason to wear this shirt." He deeply chuckled, moving harder and harder into you. More nasty sounds of skin slapping into skin and your not-so-quiet moan filled the room. "Can you imagine that, baby? Being my cute little wife, who likes when I fuck the shit out of her? Poor doll, crying. Can’t even handle my cock deep inside your pussy, can’t you?" He moved even deeper into you, and that was it.

"God– James!" You slammed your hands on the metal near your face, trying to find something to hold onto, as the wave of heat and extreme pleasure covered your whole body and mind. Your legs trembled, and the only thing that kept you straight was Bucky’s strong hands. He felt that you were over the edge, that you couldn’t stand on your legs, and he definitely felt more juices coming out of you. He looked down and saw how his shiny cock was coming in and out of your pussy that was particularly choking him, and that sight threw him over the edge. With the last movement, he pulled your body into him, wrapping his hands around you and releasing his hot seed deep inside of you.

You both moaned at the feeling of you being so full of his cum that it had already started dripping down your thighs.

"That’s it, baby." Bucky whispered into your ear. "You did so well. Are you okay?" He left light kisses on your cheek.

It was too intense; not a single thought came to your head, and for a few seconds you tried to put yourself together.

"Mhm." It was the only thing that you were able to answer because your body was still trembling with the leftovers of your intense orgasm.

You two stayed in that position for a few minutes until Bucky realized that you had become too sleepy. He tried to pull out, but you grabbed his hand.

"‘M too sensitive." You almost cried.

"I know, sweetheart, but now I have to clean you and take you home." Bucky gently came out of you, and your body got goosebumps at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you. It took him all the strength not to shove it back into you with his fingers, but you were obviously too tired, and he couldn’t properly take care of you since you weren’t at his or your bedroom.

Bucky fell on his knees, quickly took a towel from his bag on the floor, and carefully cleaned the mess between your thighs. He reached for your panties, helped you put them back, leaving a soft kiss on your leg, and then helped you sit on the bench.

He looked at your sleepy and tired face while putting on his clothes.

"Hey, doll? You’re too quiet. Is everything okay? Was I too rough?"

"I’m ‘kay, it was just as intense as when you make me come many times in one night. Just help me with my jeans; I can’t feel my legs."

"Of course, sweetheart." He helped you with your pants and then fixed your messy hair. You couldn’t imagine how you must’ve looked right now. "I love you so much. Thank you for being here today. You’re truly the best thing that ever happened to me." Bucky kissed your forehead and wrapped his hands around your body, standing up with you.

"I love you too, Buck. So so much." You happily buried your face into his neck, knowing that your boyfriend was going to take care of everything.

He picked up his bag and keys for the locker room and came out of there. Bucky didn’t even close the door when he heard a familiar voice.

"Do not tell me that you two did what I think you did!" Sam was standing there a few steps away with disgust and shock on his face. "I didn’t expect that from you, Y/N/N." He joked.

"Sorry, Sam." You moved away from Bucky’s neck and tried to give Sam your best apologetic smile.

"Well, I’m not. Since you’re here, close the door, Birdbrain; we hurry."

Sam stood there for a few more moments after Bucky left with you in his arms.

He decided that the headphones that he left in the room could wait until another time.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky x female reader #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #college bucky barnes #football player bucky barnes #marvel smut #bucky barnes smut #marvel fanfiction

379 notes · View notes

endless-summer-soldier · 8 months

Text

fair catch

pairing: CollegeFootballPlayer!Bucky x CollegeAthlete!Reader

summary: Y/N joins the football team to prove a point and the last thing Bucky expected out of the season was to fall for the new kicker

warnings: slight injury, slight alcohol use, mostly fluff though

word count: 5.7k

taglist: @tellmealovestory @mrs-bucky-barnes106 @charmedbysarge @theroyalmanatee @ozwriterchick @aya-fay @differenttyphoonwerewolf @sebsgirl71479

Coach Fury blew the final whistle, signaling practice was over. Bucky sighed in relief and jogged over to the bench to dump a cup of water on his head. This was their last two-a-day practice due to the semester starting the following day.

“Listen up! I have an announcement to make.” Fury was standing there with the other coaches and a small female, probably a student. Bucky figured she might be the new manager of the football team, a spot typically occupied by co-eds who wanted to hook up with football players.

Once the team was circled up, Fury continued, “I’d like you all to meet Y/F/N Y/L/N. She’s our new kicker.”

Bucky felt Sam suppressing a cough as his water went down the wrong pipe. There was silence as the new teammate stood there, smiling confidently at them all.

Bucky’s first thought was that she was adorable, but she was tiny. She certainly didn’t have the build of a football player.

Steve was the first person to speak up, “Coach, Parker’s our kicker.”

“And Parker couldn’t hit the side of a barn with a frying pan.” The group chuckled and Peter shrugged, knowing he wasn’t a skilled kicker. “With Y/L/N as our kicker we can move Parker to holder.”

It wasn’t a bad thought. Parker missed more field goals than he made but he had good hands. He could catch and place the ball in the proper place pretty quickly.

“Y/L/N will practice with us tomorrow so you can all evaluate her skills then. Anything you’d like to add?” He asked her.

She provided them with a tightlipped smile and said, “Happy to be here.” The huddle evaporated as the team collected their things and headed to the locker room. Bucky wasn’t surprised when Steve approached Y/N immediately and shook her hand, acting as the captain and welcoming her to the team.

“Well this is new,” Sam said.

Bucky shrugged, “I mean as long as she can put points on the board, I don’t mind it.”

“Are you worried?” he asked.

“Worried? What would I be worried about?”

“I don’t know, Buck. She seems like your type.”

“I don’t have a type,” he responded.

“Sure you do. Dark hair, small stature, dry sense of humor.”

“How could you possibly know what sense of humor she has?”

“Oh, I don’t. I’m just speculating.”

“You are something else,” he said, shaking his head. They made their way into the locker room and ran into Steve on the way.

“Hey, you two busy after this?” Steve asked. Bucky and Sam both shook their heads and Steve added, “Good, because I told Y/N I’d take her out for a drink. Just thought it might be nice to get to know a few people off the field.”

“How captain-ly,” Sam mocked. Steve could read their expressions and knew they weren’t stoked about the situation.

“Come on, just come by for one drink. Be good teammates.”

“One drink, and you’re buying,” Bucky said. He could never say no to Steve.

“Deal,” Steve replied.

“So, why join the football team?” Sam bluntly asked. Steve had been driving most of the conversation, asking Y/N about where she grew up and her major. But Sam didn’t have the patience for pleasantries. Steve shot Sam a look as soon as the question was out of his mouth, and Sam merely shrugged.

“I’ve been waiting for that one,” she grinned, taking a big swig of her beer. “You probably won’t like this answer, but it's a bit of a political move. I was the captain of the women’s soccer team and we just found out that our program was cut, along with a few other women’s sports teams. Apparently we didn’t bring in enough money for the school, despite making the playoffs the past eight years. I couldn’t just sit back and let the administration win, so I figured I’d join the football team, try to get some media attention so I could talk about the lack of funding for women’s soccer.”

Whatever answer Bucky was expecting, it certainly wasn’t that.

“That’s pretty badass,” Bucky said.

“So…you don’t have any interest in football,” Sam stated, more than asked.

“Look, I’m an athlete. Every time I step out onto the field, I’m playing to win. And I’m actually pretty decent at kicking a football. I grew up with three older brothers so I was practically raised on the football field. Even though my motives may be a little murky, I am fully dedicated to this team.”

“Now that’s what we like to hear,” Steve said, grinning.

“But actually, where do we fall within the division?” she asked.

The three players looked at each other, trying to determine how to answer that question.

“We have solid talent, we’ve just been…unlucky the past few years,” Steve said.

“What does that mean?” she retorted, with a raised eyebrow.

“Sam was injured most of last season and he’s our best and fastest wide receiver, so that hurt,” Bucky said.

“You're telling me,” Sam agreed.

“Then we went through a few offensive coordinators until we found one that…meshed with the team.” Steve said.

“The team or the coach?” Y/N bemused.

“The coach,” they all mumbled in unison.

“So Fury’s a hard ass?”

“You could say that. He’s harsh, but fair. And he genuinely knows his way around the gridiron,” Steve stated.

“He is a great coach, just not everyone appreciates his coaching style,” Sam added.

“Coulson has been a great addition so far. He’s kind of balanced Fury out a bit. And his offensive routes have been working pretty well so far,” Bucky commended.

“Got it, so don’t get on Fury’s bad side. Is there anyone else I should be worried about?”

“Just Bucky. He gets cranky if he hasn’t eaten enough,” Sam joked. Bucky nudged him playfully while his teammates laughed.

“We’ve got a great squad. And we really do need a strong kicker. So if you can prove to the guys that you have talent, you’ll earn their respect and they won’t mess with you.”

“Good to know.” Everything about her demeanor was calm, cool, and collected. She didn’t seem to be the least bit intimidated about joining the team. She was able to hold her own and didn’t care about what the guys thought of her. Bucky couldn’t help but admire that energy. He sensed that his friends were fond of her too and he expected they’d defend her if any of the other teammates decided to get mouthy.

“Well, I appreciate you guys taking me out for a drink, but I do need to get back. Still have some unpacking to do.” She left a few dollar bills on the table to cover her drink, even though Steve told her it was unnecessary. She was just as stubborn as he was.

Once she left the bar, Steve was the first to speak. “I like her. I think she’s going to be really good for the team.”

“I think she’s going to be trouble,” Sam said.

“Trouble?” Steve echoed, looking for an explanation.

“Half the team is going to fall in love with her. Including this one,” Sam said, signaling towards Bucky.

“What? You’re crazy, man,” Bucky argued.

“Alright, whatever you say. But I’m going to reference this moment when I give the best man speech at your wedding.”

Bucky rolled his eyes as Steve studied his face, trying to figure out if Sam was right. As Bucky’s oldest friend, he could usually read him like a book when it came to women. Which is why Bucky avoided eye contact, trying to hide any tells he might have.

Steve let out a knowing smile, realizing Sam was right.

It was the day before their first game of the season and they had just finished up practice. Bucky felt oddly content with the team. They had finally gotten into a good rhythm and he felt they were prepared for their first game against Millersville, which was one of their local rivals. They had lost that past few match ups, but Bucky liked their chances this time around.

As the team drank down their water and collected their belongings, Steve cleared his throat calling their attention.

“Listen up. Y/N has something she’d like to say.”

“Thanks Cap. I want to let you know that there will be an article in the Inquirer about me and I felt like I should explain myself to you before you read it. The reason I joined this team is because I was the captain of the women’s soccer team on campus, before they cut the program for budgetary reasons. Several sports teams were cut, all of them being women’s sports teams. There are so many female athletes here on scholarship that are now going to have to transfer out and qualified coaches are now out of a job, and it's completely unfair. So I joined the team, knowing it would get people talking and hopefully some attention would be brought on this injustice. I’m hopeful that some prominent alumni might make some donations to save some of the programs.” She paused, trying to read the reactions of her teammates, but she was mostly getting blank stares.

“I want all of you to know that I take my spot on this team very seriously, and I will do my job to help us win tomorrow. I am committed to all of you and to Coach Fury. I don’t want you to think of me any differently, I just want to be treated like a teammate. So if any of you have any questions or want to say anything, feel free.”

It was silent for a moment. Bucky exchanged eyes with Sam, wondering if they should be some of the first ones to speak up.

“That’s awesome,” Peter said, breaking the silence. “I mean not the part about the soccer team, but the other stuff.”

“Badass,” Sam said, hoping to influence the others.

“Just don’t go leaving us once the soccer team comes calling, okay?” Bucky joked, shooting her a smile that she returned.

“Alright, bring it in,” Thor directed, fanning the team into a sweaty, smelly group hug around Y/N. She tried to protest but it was no use. She emerged from the group gagging and inhaling the fresh air.

Bucky caught up with her as she collected her water jug and helmet.

“That went well,” he commented.

“Honestly, such a relief. I thought Tony was going to have me exiled.”

“Nah, he loves to stick it to the man.”

“Well, thanks for the support.”

“I’m your teammate. I’m always gonna have your back.”

The game was tied 17-17 with two minutes left in the fourth quarter. Bucky was correct in thinking they were pretty evenly matched against their rival. Their defense was struggling a bit, but the offense was doing well putting points on the board. Bucky had scored a touchdown in the first half and Steve had rushed one in on a quarterback sneak play. Y/N had pulled her weight by making both extra points and a field goal right before halftime. And now they were running on third down at the 30-yard line, hoping to pick up a few more feet so that she could easily kick another field goal. Scott ran the ball another few yards and was tackled down at the 27, which put them in good field position for a field goal. The refs moved the chains and the offense ran off the field, as the field goal unit ran on.

“You got this,” Bucky said to her, giving her a pat on the shoulder as she ran out to her position. Peter knelt on the ground, ready to receive the snap as Y/N lined herself up and took a few steps back.

Peter called for the ball, essentially starting the play and Bucky immediately saw one of the defenders jump over one of the lineman, clearly crossing the line of scrimmage before the ball had even been snapped. Yellow flags were flung in the air by the refs and gently floated down, but the play was already in motion and couldn’t be stopped. The ball reached Parker and he deftly turned the laces, as Y/N ran forward and kicked the ball, aiming between the uprights. Her laser focus betrayed her, as she didn’t see the defender making a beeline for her. Her leg was fully extended when he made contact, bringing her lithe form to the ground with ease. The ball had been tipped by another defender, but it hardly mattered as the ref’s whistles were sounding.

The defender who made the tackle was easily three times Y/N’s size, and Bucky watched as he got up with ease and Y/N laid there, motionless and broken. Peter was immediately at her side, checking to see if she was okay. He looked to the sidelines and waved a hand toward Fury, signaling him to send out the trainer. Helen grabbed her kit and sprinted out alongside Fury.

Rage crept up on Bucky quickly, but what set him off was when the defender high fived his teammate, proud of himself. The attack felt personal. He knew he left early and continued on anyway, determined to pin the female kicker.

Bucky dropped his helmet and sprinted out onto the field shoving the defender to the ground. “What the fuck was that!” Bucky grunted. He wanted this guy to take off his helmet so he could give him a black eye.

Suddenly Steve was in front of him, separating Bucky from his new enemy. Sam must’ve been behind him, giving him a bearhug and pulling him backwards. Bucky wasn’t giving up though, he fought his two teammates trying to get through to the defender.

“Bucky, it’s not worth it,” Steve said, pushing him backwards. “Let it go.”

“She’s not moving, Steve. He did that to her!”

“She’s gonna be okay. Cho’s out there.”

“Who does that guy think he is!” Bucky seethed.

“He’s a jackass. But don’t stoop to his level,” Sam said. More of the players had come out to break up the fight. The refs were directing both teams to go back to their benches. They should all be taking a knee right now, but the tension was too high.

Then the ref pointed toward him and pointed to the locker rooms, ejecting him from the game. He did the same for the defender who tackled Y/N. Sam walked him toward the locker room to ensure he wouldn’t stage another attack. Steve corralled the rest of the team back to the bench to take a knee.

When Bucky got into the locker room, he had to let out his frustration. He punched his locker until his knuckles started bleeding. He barely felt the pain, he just kept thinking about the asshole who laid out his teammate. He finally calmed himself down with some deep breaths and decided to take a shower. As soon as the game was called, he was going to check on her.

Y/N woke up lying on a bed in the training room and immediately felt the pain in her head. She let out an unconscious groan and suddenly two figures were by her side.

“Y/N! You’re up,” Steve said, still fully dressed in uniform. Helen started checking her pupils and did a basic examination.

“What happened,” she mustered. Helen handed her a bottle of water and placed two pills in her palm. She swallowed the pills without question and chugged most of the water.

“One of the defensive lineman was offside for the kick and laid you out. Ended up with a roughing the kicker penalty and he got himself ejected.”

“But did we win?” she asked.

Steve chuckled, “Yeah, the 15 yard penalty gave us a new set of downs and Lang ran it in for the game winning touchdown.”

“Thank god. You wouldn��t have heard the end of it if you let that guy lay me out and then lost the game.” Steve smiled at her again. At least she seemed to be in good spirits. Helen placed a cold compress on her forehead and concluded her examination.

“I’ve never seen a brawl breakout like that on the field,” Cho stated.

“A brawl!?” Y/N clamored. “And I missed it? What happened?”

“Bucky charged the field. He pushed the guy that tackled you and almost knocked his head off. Took Sam and I to hold him back. I’ve never seen him like that before.”

“Is he okay?” Y/N asked.

“Oh he’s fine. Refs ejected him and the other guy before it got too out of hand.”

“Y/N, how are you feeling?” Helen asked.

“I mean my head hurts like a bitch, and I feel a little sore on my sides. But I think that’s about it for now.”

Helen nodded, “I think you have a few fractured ribs and you might have a concussion. I recommend that you go to the hospital.”

“Oh. Do I have to go now?”

“That would be best. You should get x-rays done for the ribs and you need to be on concussion watch the rest of the night.”

Y/N felt uneasy, the last thing she wanted was to spend the night in the emergency room by herself. She just wanted a warm bed to rest in for the night. Steve read her expression and tried to help.

“What if one of us stayed with her all night? We’ll make sure she doesn’t fall asleep and if she starts exhibiting more symptoms of a concussion, I’ll take her to the hospital.”

Cho considered his proposal and eyed Y/N, who was currently pleading with her best puppy dog eyes.

“I suppose that would be fine. But she needs to get x-rays done tomorrow.”

“Absolutely,” Y/N agreed.

Just as Helen was packing up, Bucky burst through the door.

“Is she okay!?”

“Course I’m okay, I’m super tough,” she smiled.

“And that should be the painkillers hitting,” Cho explained.

“She has a few fractured ribs and she might have a concussion,” Steve explained.

“I swear to God, I’m gonna kill that guy,” Bucky muttered, his hand clenching into a fist.

“Easy Buck, it could’ve been a lot worse,” Steve rationalized.

“You’ve got her for tonight?” Helen asked. Bucky shot a look at Steve, confused but Steve just nodded. “We’ve got her.”

Helen nodded and packed up her things, heading home.

“I told Helen we would stay with Y/N tonight, to make sure she doesn’t fall asleep. And we can take her to the hospital tomorrow to get some x-rays done.”

Bucky nodded in agreement.

“I still need to get showered and pack up. Buck, can you give Y/N a ride to our place and I’ll meet you there?”

“Sure, of course.”

Steve departed for the locker room, leaving just Bucky and Y/N. He walked over toward the table where she was sitting and helped her onto her feet. She was initially unsteady, falling into him slightly as she gained her balance.

“Okay, that is not going to work…”

“What?” she inquired.

“Come here,” he put his hand behind her back and reached down to collect her legs, picking her up easily in his strong arms.

“This is not necessary.”

“You can barely stand up straight, I’m not risking you getting hurt even more.”

She didn’t have the energy to fight back. It would’ve been useless as they quickly approached Bucky’s black Jeep.

He gingerly placed her on two feet and opened the passenger door for her. He was ready to wrap an arm around her waist to aid her into the car, but she brushed him off and easily climbed into the leather seat. Bucky shut the door behind her carefully and walked over to the driver’s side of the car.

It was silent for a few minutes as he drove them the short way to his house. Once they were inside, Y/N made herself comfortable on the sofa and Bucky retrieved her a glass of water.

“So…” Y/N started, eyeing Bucky, “I heard you got tossed from the game.”

Bucky let out an unconscious chuckle. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Oh, do you make it a habit of starting brawls mid-game?”

“This would be a first.”

“What the hell happened?” she asked.

He let out a deep sigh, placing the glass in front of her. “I don’t know…I just snapped. I saw my teammate lying there, not moving, after a cheap shot and I needed to do something.”

“So you did that to protect me? Because I’m a woman?” There was an edge to her voice and he knew he had to tread carefully.

“Honestly, I think that asshole laid you out because you’re a woman. It was fucked up. And I didn’t want him to think he could get away with that. You’re part of the team and I’ve got your back.”

She studied him for a moment and let out a small smile, accepting the answer he provided.

“Thank you,” she said plainly.

“You’re welcome.”

They were quiet for a moment and Bucky spoke up again, “Steve should be home soon. Did you want to watch TV or something?”

“Sure.” Bucky handed her the remote and let her click through the channels until something grasped her attention.

“What the fuck is this?” Bucky asked, stunned by the blurred nudity on his television.

“You’ve never seen Naked and Afraid?” His expression answered the question for her.

“It’s like a survivalist show. They spend 21 days trying to survive in the wilderness.”

“And they're naked…”

“Yeah, they don’t really explain that logic. Something having to do with primitivism. I think it's just for shock value.”

“Makes sense.”

“But yeah, it’s oddly addicting.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Despite his apprehension, he settled in and focused his attention on the TV. The two made comments and jokes to each other while watching and it wasn’t long until Bucky was drawn in.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Steve came in and found them on the couch, watching the reality TV survival show.

“What on Earth…” Steve said.

“Naked and Afraid,” Y/N and Bucky said in unison. Steve wordlessly dropped his things and joined them on the couch, asking questions about the show and the episode.

“Why is this so addicting?” Steve finally asked.

“I have no idea, but it’s so good,” Y/N said. The three of them sat and watched episodes for hours, but the time flew by with ease. But the drugs and pain was starting to take a toll on Y/N. Bucky could sense she was close to drifting off, and every time he saw her head bob, he nudged her shoulder to make sure she was still awake.

“I’m just so tired…” she would say. Bucky looked at Steve for guidance. He wanted her to get some rest, but he didn’t want to risk breaching the concussion protocol. Steve pulled out his phone and did a quick Google search.

“It says that technically she can sleep, she just needs to be woken up every few hours.”

Bucky turned to Y/N, checking her reaction at the good news, but she was already in a light sleep.

“I’ll take her to my room, she’ll be more comfortable there,” Bucky said.

“Do you want me to stay up with you?” Steve offered.

“Nah, I’ll set an alarm and wake her every two hours.”

“You sure?” Steve was more than happy to help out, but he also recognized the sparkle in Bucky’s eye.

“I’ve got it,” Bucky replied. Steve nodded and gathered his things before heading to his room. Bucky approached Y/N and picked her up carefully, so as not to wake her. She easily fell into his arms and he navigated to his room. He carefully placed her onto his unmade bed and pulled the sheets over her. She sunk into the mattress and continued to sleep, curled up in the blankets. Bucky glanced over his room and realized it could use a little tidying up. The last thing he wanted was for Y/N to wake up disgusted at the mess. He set a timer on his phone, cracked his knuckles and started cleaning up.

The first two hours went by surprisingly quickly. It helped to have a task he was focused on and he put his headphones in to listen to some music as he worked. He was shocked to find it was nearing 3AM.

He sat gently on the bed and carefully shook Y/N’s shoulder, calling her name as he did so. She groggily opened her eyes, clearly annoyed at being disturbed from her slumber.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” he asked.

She squinted at him, “Tired.”

“I know, I’m sorry to wake you.”

“It’s okay,” she responded, stretching out.

“Do you want something to eat or drink?”

“Mmm, a bottle of red wine would be great.”

Bucky stared at her before she added, “I’m kidding.” He was glad to see her sense of humor was still intact.

“How about a grilled cheese?” he offered.

“Oh that sounds amazing.”

“Coming right up.” He stood from his desk chair and was surprised as Y/N followed him to the kitchen. He poured her a large glass of water and placed it in front of her selected seat at the kitchen table.

Bucky moved around the kitchen with ease as he collected all the necessary ingredients for their midnight snack.

“Do you cook often?” she asked him.

“I try to. I like eating healthy when I can and it's easier if I just cook for myself instead of eating out all the time.”

“What’s your go-to meal that you cook when you’re trying to impress a girl?”

Bucky turned back to her, “You’re about to find out.”

She scoffed, “Grilled cheese is not your signature dish.”

“Sure it is.”

“So if you were going to cook dinner for a date, you’d make her grilled cheese?”

“Absolutely.”

“You’re full of shit.”

“It’s a great test of character. I want to be with a girl who is down to earth and appreciates a good grilled cheese.”

“No girl is going to be impressed by grilled cheese.”

“Talk to me after you’ve tried it,” he smiled. She continued drinking her water and watching him work. Her headache was fading away but her ribs still hurt a bit and watching Bucky distracted her from the pain.

Soon enough, Bucky placed a plate in front of her that held a perfectly made grilled cheese. The bread was a rich golden brown and there was the slightest bit of cheese oozing off the crust.

“How do you want it cut?” he asked.

“Triangles,” she responded, smiling back to memories of her childhood. Bucky slid the butter knife diagonally across the sandwich, creating two right triangles.

He placed his own plate in front of the neighboring chair and joined her at the table. She picked up the sandwich and bit off a corner.

“Oh my god…” she gushed.

Bucky merely shrugged and said, “I told you.”

“How? How is this the best sandwich I’ve ever had?” She continued to eat her grilled cheese, moaning in delight after every bite.

“I’m just happy it lived up to expectations.”

“Oh, it exceeded expectations,” she said, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, as he collected the dishes and loaded the dishwasher.

“Good, but tired. And sore.”

“You want to go back to sleep?”

She simply nodded and he held out his hand to help her up. She took it with ease and he walked her back to his bedroom, pulling down the sheets so she could climb in.

As she made herself comfortable, James let out a deep yawn.

“Are you going to sleep?” she asked.

He nodded, “I’m gonna pass out on the couch for a few hours, then I’ll check on you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“Well, I just want to make sure you aren’t concussed.”

“No, I mean you don’t have to sleep on the couch.”

“You are not sleeping on the couch.”

“I don’t mind sharing the bed. It is yours.”

“Y/N, I really don’t mind.”

“Stop arguing and get in the bed,” she demanded.

He wasn’t expecting her to be so direct and found he followed her direction without question. Even though Y/N was tiny, it was still tight in the twin bed considering Bucky’s bulky frame. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get comfortable. Y/N was curled up under the covers, fast asleep, and he was worried that any shift he made might wake her up. So he just stared up at the ceiling, trying to ignore her sweet scent and delicate breathing. And then she turned. She instinctively pulled herself closer to him, resting her head on his chest and placing her arm around his rib cage. He carefully placed his arm around her and gently ran his fingers up and down her torso. He focused his attention on his movements and soon enough, he was drifting off to sleep.

He was startled awake by the chime of his alarm and he didn’t want to move. He quickly turned off the ringer, not wanting to wake up Y/N just yet. She was the little spoon to his big, her petite body fitting perfectly in his.

“Y/N,” he whispered, scratching her shoulder gently to wake her. He wasn’t sure if she was a naturally heavy sleeper or if it was a side effect from her injury, but either way his job wasn’t any easier.

“Y/N,” he called again, shaking her shoulder ever so slightly. This time she stirred, turning so that she was facing him. “Are you awake?” he whispered.

“No…” she replied.

“Don’t make me bring in reinforcements,” he added with a smile.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she challenged.

“Only one way to find out,” he smirked. He leaned in close to her and started tickling her torso, playing her rib cage like it was a piano. She immediately squirmed, trying to evade his attack unsuccessfully. As she squealed, she also let out a breathy giggle that was music to his ears. She flipped back over so that she was facing the edge of the bed and Bucky took this moment to ease up on the tickling and squeezed her tight in his arms. She leaned into his arms before calling, “Okay, okay I give.”

“You awake now?”

“Yes, I’m awake,” she laughed. He loosened his grip and she turned back to him.

“That was not a fair fight. You’re like twice my size. And I was half asleep.”

“All I’m hearing are excuses,” Bucky countered. She pouted at him and Bucky couldn’t help but smile. “Are you feeling better?”

She nodded, “No more headache, still a little sore in the ribs.”

“My attack probably didn’t help that,” Bucky admitted.

“Definitely not. But I didn’t mind too much.”

He studied her face, counting every freckle and memorizing the pattern of her irises. He smiled noticing the twinkle in her eye had returned; it had dimmed after she took the hit but now it was glimmering again. Bucky couldn’t believe how quickly things had changed between them. He never saw it coming. Yesterday she was just his teammate, and now he couldn’t imagine a life without her. He’d always heard about people falling so fast that they don’t realize it until it was too late, but he’d never experienced it before. He leaned in closer, pulling her in tight to his chest, taking in her natural scent, and he planted a protective kiss on her hairline.

“Why don’t you rinse off in the shower before we head to the hospital,” he suggested.

“Hospital?” she whined, “I’m really fine.”

He looked at her sternly, “We’re going.”

“Do we have to?”

“Yes, I’m not taking no for an answer. I promised Cho I would take you in.”

She rolled her eyes before climbing out of bed, “Fiiiine.”

Bucky followed her into the bathroom to grab her a fresh set of towels. As he handed her the small stack, she looked at him with a look that he couldn’t quite place. He guessed she had something she wanted to get off her chest, but wasn’t sure if she should proceed.

“What is it?” he asked, hoping his comment would encourage her.

She hesitated for a minute, weighing the pros and cons in her head. “It’s nothing,” she settled on, giving him a fake smile.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders.

She let out a sigh before saying, “It’s fine if you want to keep last night between us. Not that anything happened, but we can just go back to normal.”

The comment should’ve stung, but Bucky wasn’t letting her get out of things that easily, “Is that what you want?”

Her eyes told him everything. “I don’t mind either-”

He cut her off, not willing to accept her non-answer. He shook his head, “What do you want?”

He was pushing her, he knew that, but he wanted her to hear her say it, to make sure it wasn’t all in his head.

“I want a thousand more nights like last night. Just without the whole concussion part,” she added, with a smile.

“Only a thousand? We’re capping it there?”

She let out a teasing laugh, “Let’s start with a thousand. If you do well, we can discuss a contract extension.”

“Trust me, I’m getting that extension. How about I give you a little preview…” he suggested, moving in closer towards her.

“Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?” she smirked. He placed his hand on her jaw and gently ran his index finger in circles behind her ear.

“Maybe something like this…” he whispered, words grazing her lips. She closed her eyes and waited until he finally brushed his lips up against hers. He pulled her in tighter towards him as he continued kissing her. She couldn’t help but smile as he caressed her lips, knowing full well she never wanted him to stop.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x y/n #football player bucky #bucky oneshot #bucky fluff

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lunaroserites · 12 days

Text

Art and Ice - Ground Rules

Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Characters: Natasha, Wanda, Pietro, Loki, Bucky, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, a lot of the avengers cast is mentioned.

Summery: Bucky and Doodle spend some quality time together.

This might a 2 or 3 parter (it's gonna be more because cannot help myself). College AU, our boy Bucky is on the hockey team, and reader is an art major (because I love that trope and couldn't help myself)

Warnings: Not beta'd! All mistakes are my own. Friends fluff, swearing, mentions of college students being college students. Bit of friendly harmless flirting between friends. Bucky is a playboy. Flirting. Mentions of not eating or drinking for a hours (ADHD Brain)

Word Court: 2859

Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! ❤️

Please do not repost, translate or otherwise copy my work elsewhere, without my express permission, thank you! Lunaroserites on tumblr and ao3

Catch up here: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 ❤️

You didn’t see Barnes the next day, which wasn’t surprising, it was Friday night after a win so celebration extended into the start of the weekend. Saturday was much the same, you toiled away in the art room in front of a large sketch pad trying to get something together while your canvas dried.

You also had a small piece you were working on for a gallery wall you were doing for a local gallery that was happening once the semester ended. So your plate was full and adding the insistent nagging from your brain to find Barnes, your patience was wearing thin.

You threw the paint brush at the sink, it sailed in a smooth arche before clattering in the paint covered sink. You ran your hands over your face and groaned as you leaned forward, elbows planted in the table. Your mind is running amuck and making you lose patience.

“Doodle,” the new brush you were holding snapped in your tense grip as you looked up, startled. Barnes was standing at the door holding a bag that smelled delicious and your stomach growled. You may have forgotten to take a break and eat.

“Barnes,” you said, your tone tense. His eyebrow quirked up as he walked in and placed the bag down a few feet away.

“Are you okay,” your hand kinda hurt from snapping the brush a moment ago, and your head was killing you with a raging headache. Which might be because you haven’t eaten in a while or because you were thirsty. You took a deep breath and nodded.

“Yeah, just a little stressed,” you answered. The smell of the food in the bag makes your mouth water and your stomach twist in an uncomfortable way. “What can I do for you?”

“You weren’t at practice all weekend. Nat said you were hauled up in the art room,” he said nonchalantly, you just stared at him. “And I figured I would stop by and check on my favourite girl,” he said confidently, and you rolled your eyes in response. Your stomach decided that moment was the best time to make its presence known and grumbled loudly. Your cheeks immediately darkened in embarrassment.

“And she said you most likely didn’t eat,” the look on his face caught you off guard, he had a look of genuine concern etched on his features. “She knows you well,” he mused, his tongue poked between his teeth as he winked at you. You leaned back against your chair and extended your hand and gestured to the chair across from you, prompting him to sit. He took a seat across from you and smiled. “I hope you like burgers,” he said as he pulled the bag over.

“I don’t mind them, are they from Gus’s?” You asked, he nodded.

“I wasn’t sure what you drank so I got water,” he added, pulling a couple water bottles out of his gym bag. You smiled and chuckled a little at how thoughtful he was being.

“Waters fine,” you accepted the bottle and cracked it open and drank half it one go. He eyed you suspiciously and you gulped down hard. “I get lost in what I’m doing and sometimes forget to eat or drink,” you mumbled under his intense gaze.

“That’s not healthy,” he muttered, pulling out a burger and handing it to you. You accepted and opened it up, taking a bite and biting back the moan you almost let out.

“I know, but when I’m in the zone. I just don’t realise how much time passes,” you said softly, he nodded and you two ate the food in a comfortable silence.

“Thank you,” you said as you threw out the garbage and sat back down.

“No problem, can’t let ya starve,” he chuckled and rubbed his chin in his hand. “What’s ya working on?” He asked and looked at the few pieces shattered behind you and a shadow box a few feet away from you.

“Uh, a project for an art exhibit once schools out,” you answered.

“Mind if I work on some homework? It’s quieter here than my house,” you raised an eyebrow at him, that was unexpected. “What?” he asked.

“Nothing, don’t mind me,” you said as you looked down to work on the piece for the shadow box. Your eyes drifted up every now and then as you observed him working on what looked to be some kind of science homework.

His eyes wandered over your frame every now and then as he took in your look of complete concentration as you worked with a small piece of clay. He couldn’t help but appreciate the dedication you had toward your craft.

“What are you working on?” You asked after some time.

“Science homework,” he gave you a cheeky smile. You gave him a deadpan expression. “It’s space stuff,” he answered.

“What about space stuff?” You asked, genuine curiosity laced your tone.

“I’m learning about stars,” he tilted the book he was reading, it was open to a diagram of a star.

“Oh neat!” You took a closer look at the diagrams and then looked back at him. He was rubbing his neck with a sheepish look on his face. “I did a project a couple years ago on Saturn,” you pulled your phone out and showed him a picture.

“Wow, you did a fantastic job,” he took your phone for a moment to get a closer look at it. “Wait, that looks familiar,” he looked up at you again. “That looks like the one in the observatory.”

“That’s because it is,” you chuckled. His eyes widened a little and his smile broadened.

“I made out with a girl right next to it,” he chuckled and your smile dropped and you busied yourself with another piece of clay.

“That’s great,” you forced out through the firm line your mouth was now set in.

“Why do you do that?” He asked suddenly, noticing your immediate change in demeanour. You looked up and your eyes narrowed at him.

“Do what?”

“That? Get all closed off when I say something you don’t like,” he asked.

“Because I really didn’t need to know you made out with a girl next to my art piece,” you stated. “I was told if I have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”

“I’m not a child, I can handle criticism,” he defended.

“That’s not the point. Have you ever once sat down and just chatted with a girl without the expectation of sex afterwards?” You asked, your tone very genuine. He sat back in his chair and looked anywhere but your face.

“No. Not in a long time,” his answer caught you guard. You were expecting some snide comment or a lie. When you looked at his face, he looked completely sincere. You took a deep breath knowing the answer to the question you were about to ask.

“Is that why you’re here now?” You didn’t recognize the voice that asked the question. It was soft and meek, nothing like your usual cadence. He didn’t answer right away, and based on the look on his face he didn’t really know what to say or how to answer.

“Honestly,” he took a deep breath and looked at his hands. “Probably. Maybe. I don’t know. At first definitely. The first time I spoke to you it was. But I don’t know,” his rambling gave away how honest he was being. “I still want to,” he paused, “to still sleep with you. I also want to hang out with you. And get to know you.”

You couldn’t help the slight upturn of your lip as you released a long inhale, “thank you for being honest.”

“I might be a prick. But at least I’m an honest one,” he tried to joke. His smile dropped when you didn’t laugh. “So where does that leave us now?”

“I don’t know Barnes. I don’t want to sleep with you. But I don’t want you to take that as a challenge to get me to sleep with you. If you truly want to be friends, and we get to know one another with no ulterior motives, then we can do that,” you didn’t want to sugar coat it. You also didn’t have the balls to admit you had a tiny crush on him because that would go straight to his dick and this conversation would be pointless.

“Well to start you could start calling me Bucky, Barnes is so detached,” he gave you a small smile.

“Well that was the point,” you chuckled. “But okay, Bucky.” His smile grew larger and he pumped his fist in the air.

“I’m still calling you Doodle though,” he said, his tone serious as he stared at you.

“That’s fine, I guess,” you chuckled while rolling your eyes at him.

“So how much of my piece is finished?” He asked, you couldn’t help but laugh and pointed over your shoulder to the large canvas behind you. “That’s empty.”

“I know. I have to get some practice sketches done first before I paint on the big canvas,” you decided to not mention the two you ruined.

“Can I see the practice sketches?” He asked hopefully.

“Sure,” you relented and passed the sketch pad over and watched him look at it.

“How do you do that?” He asked, passing it back a moment later.

“Draw?” You raised an eyebrow at him. He nodded. “I just do, it takes a lot of practice and effort. I could ask the same of you, how do you skate so effortlessly?”

He smiled for a moment before answering, “I guess it’s the same. I just get on the ice and go. The moment I lace my skates up and I hit the ice everything else just fades away, it’s just me, my stick and the puck.”

“For me, I pick up the pen, or brush and just start somewhere and get lost in it. It’s me, the brush and the canvas,” you finished.

“Hey,” he was serious now, that caught your attention fully as you looked at him, “I wanted to apologise for what I said the other day…”

“Bucky,” you reached out and placed your smaller hand on his gently as you cut him off, “stop, it’s okay. We both said things that weren’t very nice. For what it’s worth.” You looked into his eyes sincerely, “I’m sorry too. It’s behind us now.”

He smiled and nodded, “okay Doodle.”

That conversation was the catalyst to your developing and lively friendship with Bucky, when the team wasn’t travelling for the away games over the next week he would sit in the art room and do his homework while you worked on the art projects you had due.

It was Thursday night, Bucky was just getting to the art studio after practice when he saw you hunched over your sketch pad, your hands in your hair and you were sniffling. He entered and quickly threw his gym bag down and came around the table and crouched down next to you. He placed his hand on your forearm, trying not to startle you too much. You jumped anyway since you didn’t hear him come in, you were too wrapped up in your own thoughts to notice anything else.

“Doodle,” he said softly. “Everything okay?” You shook your head and slumped into his chest, that caught him off guard, he quickly wrapped his arms around you and hugged you back as you cried into his chest. As quickly as you collapsed into him you pulled back and shook your head.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out and placed your head in your hands. Bucky was a little stunned at how quickly your demeanour changed.

“It's okay,” he stood and took his usual seat across from you. “Wanna talk about it?” You let out an exaggerated sigh and sniffled loudly.

“My art professor is a bitch,” you groaned. “And I have a bunch more projects due and she’s just awful. If I didn’t need this course to graduate I would have dropped it.” You pressed your cheek against the table and closed your eyes.

“What did she do?” Bucky asked.

“After class she decided to tell me she doesn’t know why I bother trying, and that the school was foolish to offer, a no talent, wannabe one of the only full ride scholarships offered for the arts,” you were crying again. You had spent years honing your craft, and fought tooth and nail for the scholarship that allowed you to attend school here.

“She’s probably just jealous,” you laughed at that, Nat had said the same thing when you texted her earlier about what happened.

“I have an appointment with the head of the department tomorrow afternoon. This isn’t the first time she’s been awful to me,” you didn’t see his fist clench and the momentary anger flash across his face as you said that.

“I wouldn’t listen to her Doodle,” Bucky reached across the table and patted your arm gently. “Your art is awesome, and you’re incredibly talented,” he finished. You smiled against the table and lifted your head up to send him a thankful look.

“Thanks Bucky, that means a lot,” you sighed and whipped your eyes with the back of your hand and rolled your shoulders. “I got some stuff done on your portrait,” you said, your voice still a little coarse, but you felt a lot better. His face lit and his full attention was on the covered canvas behind you. You stood and pulled the cover off and showed him, you had some of the out lining done, the positioning and scale perfect. You felt very proud of it so far.

“Holy shit Doodle,” Bucky stood and got closer to admire the outlining. “You know, once this is done, you should get them to let you display it in the sports annex,” he had a smug tone as he said this. You chuckled and rolled your eyes.

“Maybe if you bat your eyelashes at the department head, and ask him really nicely, he’ll let me,” you bumped your hip into his and smirked up at him. He smiled down at you and the softness in his eye made your heart skip a beat, you quickly cleared your throat and moved from him to grab a pencil.

“I’m going to work my homework, and stay out of your way,” Bucky said softly as he moved from your side to sit down again. You smiled looking down at your feet before you started to do some more outlining.

His eyes would shift from his homework every so often and they would rove over your body. He knew he didn’t have a shot in hell at getting you to agree to sleeping with him, you made that clear and he was really trying to make sure he kept that at the forefront of his mind when he was around you because he really did want to be friends with you.

But those leggings you wore hugged the curve of your ass so perfectly it was making it difficult. He felt his mouth dry out a little as he watched you rock from side to side as you drew on the canvas, and he involuntarily let a low whistle when you stretched up and exposed some of the soft skin of your back.

You immediately turned and looked at him with a raised brow and squinted at him, full judgement. “Barnes,” you were warning him, he raised his hands up in surrender.

“Not my fault you look amazing, it's a crime,” he defended himself with a cocky tone. You couldn’t stop the blush that crawled up your neck and on to your cheeks.

“You’re insufferable,” you groaned, turning your back to him again, the blush still strong on your cheeks. He laughed loudly, before going back to his homework. You couldn’t keep the little smile off your face, you knew he used that line on countless girls, and it was probably a line he used often to get in their pants, but damn he was such a smooth talker, and he said all the right things in the right tones. You hated that you longed for his compliments.

It was quiet for a while longer, just the sounds of pencils on paper and canvas filling the air.

“Hey Doodle,” you hummed in response, not wanting to look away. “There is a final game just before playoffs, it's here, do you think you’ll come?”

“I thought Nat said you guys were done with the home games now,” you still didn’t look at him, trying to make sure your scale was correct.

“This one isn’t a regular season game, but I think you’ll really enjoy it,” he was being incredibly cryptic about whatever it is. You turned now, and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Then what is it?” You asked as you eyed him.

“Surprise, but I promise you’ll love it,” he sounded so earnest that you couldn’t help but believe him.

“Okay,” I chuckled. “I’ll go,” you relented, trying to hide your genuine excitement.

Taglist: @vicmc624, @calwitch, @learisa, @aaqua-tofana

Feel free to send me a message if you have a request or would like more, or would like to be added to the tag list ❤️

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #fluff #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes hockey player #hockeyplayer!bucky x artist!reader #college!bucky #college fic #college au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x doodle

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navybrat817 · 1 month

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https://www.instagram.com/reel/C3WKLkCvo5w/?igsh=MWg3YThseTlndzJkYQ==

Why can I imagine Ice Hockey Player!Bucky being exactly like this 😖😖

Like he’ll be so kind and gentle with children. PLUS, he so BEEFY and MANLY all the kids are like “how tall are you” or “how much can you lift”

And when one of the girls asks him “do you have a girlfriend?” He lifts his head to wink at you and goes back to the kids describing how he’s met the love of his life and your heart just warms at his words

UGH, currently dying from this thought.

(Maybe he’ll remind you just how much he loves you that very night, if ya know what I mean 🤭🤭)

I love everything about this, lovely! I could easily picture @yenzys-lucky-charm's hockey boys doing this! Or Bucky being a baseball player. Any sport!

But yes, just imagining an athletic, beefy Bucky signing autographs and smiling gently at the kids. Patiently answering every single question they ask. And, of course, the wink at you when they ask about his love life.

"I asked if she'd be my valentine and guess what?" He pauses for dramatic effect. "She said YES."

Cue the little girls saying "aww" as you try not to melt into a puddle on the floor.

AHH! I love this. I need this Bucky in my life. WE need him.

Love and thanks! ❤️

#navybrat answers #bucky barnes #hockey player!bucky barnes #athlete!bucky barnes #i need him #amathslutsguidetofandom #sending love ❤️#asks are always appreciated #this could be a thing

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georgiapeach30513 · 5 months

Text

Inside Her Fantasy, Part 2

Summary: You and Ransom can't stay apart

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating: adorable

Warnings: mentions of sleeping together, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“Uncle Ranny!” Charlie shouts walking into the box of the Gillette, “Is this your box?” The little girl tugs on Ransom’s arms, but he shakes his head no. “I didn’t think this looked familiar. Oh my god!! Maevey, she’s going to be right there. Nixie, lookie, bubba, right there is going to be your future,” Ransom turns his head quickly, and the little girl smiles up at him, and turns back to her baby brother with a giggle.

“Nixie, if Ransom and her get married, she will be your aunt. Shh, don’t tell Ranny that secret. I don’t think he knows.”

“It was nice of her to get all of us in here. Bucky, you got Nixon’s headphones, right?”

“Yes, ma’am, Sarge. Nixie boy has got his ears, and he’s going to be dancing all night long, and then we’re taking all four of the kids home,” Bucky’s wife rolls her eyes, knowing that Ransom wouldn’t be going home with them. She heard her daughters tell her all about meeting you. He was smitten. Even now he is nervously staring at the stage. She just could see the difference in his eyes. He was interested in more than what you could offer him.

“Daddy, you don’t have four kids. Mommy are you…?!”

“No,” she says, putting her hand over Charlotte’s mouth. Walking over to her eldest daughter who is staring dreamily at the stage, “Maeve, you okay, baby?”

“I actually get to see her. Mom, she invited us here. I know that some people think it’s a big deal to be Bucky Barnes’ daughter, but this is a big deal. She’s going to be right there on stage, and…I’ve been a fan since I was Charlie’s age.”

“How long has this girl been performing?” Bucky grabs Nixon out of his wife’s arms, and places him in the baby carrier, letting the little toddler stare out at the stage as well. He turns around to peer up at his daddy, and pats his hand over his mouth, while Bucky kisses it softly.

“First off, let’s call her a woman. Secondly, she now has ten albums, and her first single went number one when she was sixteen,” Ransom interjects, getting the biggest smile from Maeve. Yes, Ransom had to do some research on you. It was for his nieces completely. It had nothing to do with himself.

“So she’s more famous than you, buddy. Oh, this is great. She gave you pity seats,” Ransom shoots an irritated glance towards Bucky. This wasn’t helping his nerves at all.

“No, her didn’t,” Charlie stomps her foot, staring up at her dad. “Her gave this box to me and Maevey, her biggest fans. Do they have chicken tenders tonight?”

Bucky’s wife goes over to check on her oldest daughter. Her eyes staring owlishly at the stage, still in a state of shock. Ransom wanders around aimlessly. Sitting down, only to stand back up, while Bucky and Nixon watch him. “Drysdale, you okay, buddy?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Never seen the stadium from here before. It’s nice. Spacious. That’s a giant stage. And it’s just going to be her up there. I’m out there with all of you, and…”

“You seem nervous,” Ransom shakes his head, but has to look away from his friend. “You met her for just a minute,” he remembers the feeling of knowing he had found his one. And sixteen years later, she was still his one.

“She’s different,” Ransom pulls at his collar when the lights in the stadium start fading. “She’s…America’s sweetheart. They all love her. And I’m…”

“America’s slut.”

“Shut up. I don’t — I mean I have, but not all of them. I enjoy a woman’s company, they just get annoying really quick, and if they have a laugh I can’t stand all they get is a peck to the check. Ya know?” Bucky nods his head, not fully understanding what was going on through Ransom’s head. “I just…”

Everyone turns to the door when a woman in jeans comes in. Nodding to everyone present, “Hey, so I was told to inform you guys if you’d like to stay after the concert, she has a few days off before her next stop, and…”

“Yes!” Sarge shakes her head, looking at her oldest daughter. “Mom, why not?”

“This is a three hour concert for just her set. Nixon and Charlie need sleep, and so do you.”

“I’m not a baby!”

The woman clears her throat, demanding attention again. “She will be off for a few days. Maybe Mr. Drysdale can handle waiting after the show for her. She would really like it if you waited.”

“I should really help them get the kids in bed,” Bucky playfully nudges Ransom’s leg, while all the girls turn to gawk at him. Maeve especially, realizing that Ransom was blowing this for her.

“Maybe you didn’t understand, Mr. Drysdale. It wasn’t as much of an ask as it was a request. Please, you want to wait for her. She normally doesn’t take long to get out of costuming, and the eyelashes come off, and the makeup toned down. It would be in your best interest to please just wait,” she gives a final nod before leaving the box, and Maeve walks to stand right in front of Ransom.

“She never talks after a concert. She’s interested. Don't ruin this for us. I need you to stay here and wait for her, okay?” Her head gives him a few nods as she raises her eyebrows.

“Us?”

“Ran, she is perfect. You can tell by her lyrics that this stage is just her job, it’s not who she is. Just don’t ruin this for us. I would love for you to spend the next few days that she has off with her. And then you can bring her over to the house because you always sleep in Charlie’s bed.”

“Yep, you do, Ranny. You need this. You don’t need to have twinkle toes no more. You need to sparkle!”

Ransom takes a deep breath as he paces the room. Wandering back and forth, and questioning what it was that you could want him to linger in the box for. He’d never seen Gilette like this. Not from this angle or it lit up with sparkling lights the way it was. You were even more incredible, and he questions what it was about you.

Ransom was in fact a simple man. And you had all this glitz and glamor up on the stage. Singing to a sold out stadium. Just you. Sure he’d played here to a sold out stadium, too, but with a team. These people came to see you. His honorary nieces were infatuated with you, and they weren’t the only ones.

A few times he thought he caught you looking up at their box. Of course you would know where they were. He told himself you were looking at Charlie and Maeve, but he hoped it was someone besides little girls. And hopefully it was a man that wasn’t married and 6’5”, and named Ransom.

He sits down, and stands back up again, starting to get nervous. You had forgotten and made him a joke by waiting. How long exactly did it take to get here? The stadium was empty, and janitors were starting to clean everything, and he was left here remembering your silhouette. Imagining you were making your way to him. Start with a playful conversation, and both of you would counter each other with quick remarks.

It was starting to feel like being in school when you would pass secret notes to your crush while your teacher droned on. He hadn’t even properly met you. He felt like he just stood there and stared at you while you smiled this beautiful smile at him.

“Ugh,” he groans, starting to head towards the door, but instead you open it. Giving him your beautiful smile. That’s what had taken so long. Gone were the fake lashes, red lips, glitter, crystals and larger than life woman. She was replaced by someone that seemed normal. Jeans and a shirt, but still the prettiest smile.

“Sorry,” you giggle as your eyes flick down his body. “I don’t like leaving the dressing room in her clothes.”

“Her?” He asks, a bit confused.

“Yeah, her. That girl you saw on the stage. That’s not really me. I change when I walk out on the stage. But then I take off the costume and makeup, and I become me again. Just a simple girl.”

He pauses a moment to smile and nod. His eyes trailing up and down your body. It was the same person, and yet so very different. “I love to sing and perform, but I love being me most of all. Are you like the cocky man that’s on the football field? Doing your little dances after a touchdown?”

You had watched some of his footage. You did care enough to learn about him and his career. So it wasn’t just him that was scouring the internet for interviews and clips to get a better idea of who you were, you did the same thing. Ransom starts to relax a bit more with this knowledge, “No, not exactly. The adrenaline — I get it. Why did you ask me to stay behind?”

“I don’t know. What I do know is I like to look at you, and the girls. It’s sweet. Real, and there’s just something that is enchanting about you. I can see by the way you’re looking at me you’re not used to having someone be so direct?” He chuckles, but it isn’t nervous like you had expected. Like the others always were.

“I don’t see the point in beating around the bush. I’m attracted, but it was how you were with those girls that really did it for me. And the baby?”

“Nixon. He’s my little linebacker. Well, one day. As soon as his legs get situated. He’s going to be unstoppable. He’ll be bigger than his dad. But first he’s gotta walk. He will though. He’s our rock. Bucky and his wife, we call her Sarge because she runs a tight ship, but they’re good people. Great parents. She had Maeve when she was sixteen, and they’re still together. They beat the odds, and made it, and have this beautiful life, and…you don’t want to talk about them.”

It was quite the opposite. Ransom’s eyes light up when he talks about them. Most men just wanted to quickly get you in their bed, but Ransom was talking about his family. That’s what they were. Teammates second. He respected their marriage, and loved their children. He was good with them.

“I have a mom. She’s very supportive. My dad’s an ass. But she wasn’t always the most loving. She was there, and made sure my education and sports was always top notch. Never did without, and she went to every game. But there’s something about the way Sarge and Bucky are there physically, mentally, and emotionally there for their kids. Even with Nixon. They divide their time, and god, I love those kids, ya know? I am sorry.”

“You’re fine,” your mouth turns up in the biggest smile as you watch him. “It’s cute. It’s a good quality in a man that wants a family.”

“Do you want a family?” He blurts out too quickly, and wishes he could take it back, but instead you nod excitedly. “What’s yours like?”

“I never knew my dad, but my mom — she’s amazing. I’m glad I can…well, I can make sure she has the best of everything that she needs. The Barnes and I are alike like that,” there was definitely more to it than that. Ransom could tell, but it was something you didn’t elaborate on. If you wanted him to know, you would have said something.

“I couldn’t have dreamed my life being like this, ya know? I thought I would be a music teacher with four kids by now. Life has a funny way of going, and telling you what it is you will do. Not what it is you want. I was gifted with song and being a storyteller, you were gifted with agility and strength, but that doesn’t guarantee we’d end up here.”

You and Ransom talk back and forth a moment before your hand presses up against your stomach, and a loud rumble echoes into the box. “How much time do you have?” Ransom asks with a devilish grin.

“I don’t leave Boston for another couple of days. And then it’s on to the next city.”

“I think you need food, don’t you?” You would love food. But there was always an entourage that went with you out in public. You wanted time with just Ransom.

“I think we’re going to have to sneak away from my security.”

“Don’t worry,” he stands, and offers his hand down to you. “I know how to get out of here undetected. Just make sure they know you’re safe. I really don’t need to get arrested for trying to kidnap you. Tell your PA.”

“Yeah, she’ll understand,” smiling you give June a quick text as you lift your hand up to Ransom. Looking down at your wrist, he smiles, tracing his thumb over the crude friendship bracelet he made. “I think you need to make me another one. I don’t need your phone number to get out to everyone.”

“I’ll make another one when I see my number in your phone.”

“Deal. Shall we go get some food?”

“Our chariot awaits, rosebud,” you pause as you look up at him serenely. Trying to hide the soft grin that was threatening to sneak up your throat. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

“No. My mom used to call me her little rosebud when I was little. Said one day I was going to bloom into a beautiful rose. That is the title of my next album.”

“Well, how about buddy? Bud? Or I can use your name. Sorry, I keep putting my foot in my mouth.”

“I like Bud. But I like you talking to me more,” it was settled immediately. You loved hearing his voice. A deepness that rumbled out of his chest. Sounding a bit burly, but enough playfulness to make you giggle constantly. The way you bashfully keep biting at your lip, and feeling your cheeks heat up. Wonderstruck. He had captured you in the most pure way. How was he able to do that? He wasn’t even a jerk. He was pure.

“Ransom, it’s getting late.”

“It’s just two in the morning,” he smiles from across the table from you. His leg was propped up on your side of the booth. Any other man would have made you feel trapped, but with him, you wished he would close the gap and sit with you. It was late, but you didn’t want it to end.

“Are you tired?”

“A bit. I did have a three hour show.”

“Oh, but I got to wear a color changing bracelet and dance with the cutest four year old ever. But if you’re ready for our night to end I can take you to your room, or you can sleep in the most comfortable bed in all of Boston.”

You gulp as you look at him. You wanted him, but didn’t want to ruin the innocence of the budding relationship just yet. He was ready to take you to bed, but you could always set the boundary of just sleeping. You were tired, and just talking about it had made you even more so.

“This bed is so comfortable you’ll feel just like a princess.”

“On one condition,” you answer, leaning forward, and he meets you halfway across the table. “No kissing.”

“I can agree to that if you agree to my terms,” cocking up your eyebrow, you give him a short nod. “You don’t fall in love with me the first night.”

“Done,” your sweet giggle is music to his ears, even if he was slightly offended you wouldn’t fall in love the first night.

“You said that too easily, Bud. What happens if you do?”

“Then you get a kiss,” you give his foot a little push as you start to get out of the booth. Turning back to look at him. You wouldn't fall in love on the first night. That was just silly. You were creating a bond with him, but not like that. “Take me to the best bed in the city.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Ahhh!” Charlie screams as she points at her bed. “Ahhh! Daddy! Daddy! Ranny has twinkle toes, and he’s not alone! Daddy!!” Groggily you groan, burying your face even deeper into Ransom’s chest. This was not the wake-up call you were promised. “Daddy! Maevey! Mommy!”

“Psst,” Ransom’s arm holds you tight to his chest as he wiggles his fingers towards the tiny girl, “Charlie, baby, can you just go play with your dolls or something?”

“You have a woman in my bed, Ranny! And my dolls are…oh! My! God!” You look up at the little girl with a tiny smirk before nuzzling back into Ransom. He didn’t lie, this was the best bed in the city. But you think it had more to do with him than the bed itself. “Maevey!”

Charlie screeches as she runs from her room. Ransom’s arms go above his head as he stretches, and then back on you, pulling you even closer to him. “How did you sleep?” He doesn’t even attempt to get too close or make you uncomfortable. You assume it won’t be long until the entire Barnes clan returns.

“This was the best sleep of my life,” you weren’t even exaggerating. You had a six year relationship, and nothing felt better than Ransom’s arms.

“I think it’s because you had a big man as your pillow.”

“I think it was the pink canopy. These blankets really are so soft. Hey,” you smile up at Bucky holding his son, followed in by his wife, and the littlest girl. But when Maeve walks in, gasps, and walks back out you stifle a smile. “I was told this was the best bed in Boston, and that I would get blueberry pancakes.”

Everyone just stares at the two of you, and you clear your throat sitting up. Still in last night's clothes, and so was Ransom. Knocking his arm because you two had only slept two hours at most. “Guys, I believe we all met yesterday. But she has a new name, Bud.”

“It’s short for rosebud.”

“I’m going to make some blueberry pancakes I suppose. Charlie, baby, come help me,” Charlie shakes her head no, refusing to look away from you. “Charlotte Anne Barnes, now. Daddy, you keep Nixon,” the little girl gives you a bit of a wave before following her mother out the door.

Bucky grabs a chair from Charlie’s table, and sits down, staring at you and Ransom. “Guys, need I remind you that when two people love each other, sometimes babies are made. You two just met, you don’t love each other, and I would love it if you weren’t making babies or practicing making babies in my daughter’s princess bed, and…”

“We didn’t even kiss, Buck,” Ransom yawns, his sinewed arms stretching above his head again. “You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Did you have twinkle toes?”

“No, and I resent you asking,” it was like watching a tennis match. The two of them barely breathing before responding to the other. They were just like siblings.

“Then why are you here?”

You nervously look at anything that isn’t Bucky, mostly staring at the little cutie he had in his arms. His four tooth grin is looking at you. “I feel comfortable here, Buck. I just…”

“Bud? You mind giving me and Ransom a moment? Kitchen is down the stairs and directly to the left. I’m sure Sarge would love some help,” giving him a quick nod, you jump up. Stopping in the door to smile at Ransom. You are so tired, but got the best sleep of your life. Other than this moment, it feels right.

Bucky doesn’t say another word, until you’re completely out of earshot, and then he narrows his eyes at Ransom. “Ran, what the hell man? You bring a stranger into my home with my kids. And you’re in one of their beds.”

“She was asleep in Maeve’s room. So I didn’t bother going into the guest bedroom.”

“You have a home.”

“I have a house. And it’s empty,” realizing why Ransom was always here makes Bucky slowly nod his head. “I want what you have, so I stay where you are.”

“You want my family?”

“I want a family. I don’t have to be the father or husband. I just feel comfortable here. And she…we didn’t want to say goodbye, and if I took her to my house it would have been pressure to sleep together, and I want to. But I want to wait, and she’s incredible. She’s funny, and she’s…”

“You didn’t besmirch my daughter’s bed?” Ransom repeats the question as he laughs, shaking his head at the random word Bucky used. “Here’s the deal, pal, you brought her into my kids’ lives. She better not be a casual fling. Maeve loves her, idolizes her. Charlie loves anything Maeve does, and Nixon’s a flirt. Did you see him bat his eyes at her? You involve my kids and this becomes more personal.”

“If I involve your kids it means more to me than a night. You know that right? Those are my girls, and Nixon is going to be my linebacker, and I like her, Buck. Her laugh, she hums in her sleep. She fits perfectly in my arms. I like that.”

“Let’s go get some blueberry pancakes,” Bucky sighs. It was enough for him to realize Ransom wasn’t playing a game. If he brought Maeve around, then it was serious. Charlie is one thing, but Maeve is his princess. The first child Ransom had ever been around. The man that Maeve would run to over her own father.

“I can’t believe you guys didn’t kiss,” Bucky would have to call that out.

“Yeah, well, the princesses were staring at me. Cinderella is knocking me off my game. And I think Peppa was looking, too.”

You turn around from your conversation with Sarge when you hear Ransom’s voice. Looking back at her before you skip over to him. Looking up at him with the biggest smile. You liked the Barnes’, too.

Making sure no one is looking at your arm around his neck, pulling him down to your lips when you give him a chaste peck. “What was that for?” He asks with a smile, wishing he could kiss you again. Longer. Make it last. He didn't ever want to let you go.

“I owed you,” you sheepishly answer. Licking your lips just to taste the slight cherry flavor of his chapstick. “Last night was enchanting. I want…would you want to go to the next show?”

“You owed me?”

“Don’t make a big deal about it. But I always make sure to pay up my lost bets,” he looks adorable when his entire face turns pink. Going all the way to his ears when he realizes what you mean. He got the kiss because you fell in love the first night. No sex. No kissing. Just talking. And you wanted to talk even more.

“Yeah. Yes, I want to go to the next show,” you’d get with June to arrange him traveling with you. He was in his off season, and you were just getting started.

“Good. Bucky, you mind if I hold that handsome man?” You spin on your heels, needing to hold the sweetest little baby boy, while Ransom stares at his family loving you just as much as he is. Last night was enchanting. And he wanted every night with you. There are some things you just feel in every part of you, and he did. He would marry you. It was the first thing that Ransom knew with the utmost certainty, and he didn’t want to be away from you ever.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @fenixstar @astrorogers @musingsfromthemitten @patzammit @stillthatbetch @pandaxnienke

#inside her fantasy #ransom drysdale #pop star au #football au #football player!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x fem!reader #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale fics #chris evans #chris evans character #knives out #bucky barnes

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thatmexisaurusrex · 1 year

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Here are the movie posters and info for my "Fake Dating" fill for the @sambuckylibrary's TFATWS Anniversary Event. The film is Just My Type, a story about childhood rivals and frenemies All-Star Hitter Sam Wilson and Local Weatherman Bucky Barnes finding themselves in the precarious position of fake dating. However, these two find love with each other as they fake date, and begin to truly date by the end.

#tfatwsanniversaryevent2023 #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky art #sambucky cover art #fake dating #rivals to lovers #frenemies to lovers #getting together #modern au #baseball au #baseball player sam wilson #weatherman bucky barnes #sarah wilson #ayo #joaquín torres #Just My Type

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pandagirl45 · 1 year

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Steve: fuck you stark!!

Tony: suck it rogers!

Bruce: *going green around his neck* why!?

Clint: *tempted to throw the controller out the tower*

Bucky: *crossing off mario party from the list of games* that's out

Rhodey: should of saw mario party 1, this is 4 *laughs*

Natasha: *looking at other games* monopoly?

Thor: nay, Bruce and hulk burned our board in a fit of fury

#the boyfriends and besties are salty players #tony stark #bucky barnes #winteriron #steve rogers #james rhodey rhodes #james rhodey rhodes x steve rogers #thor odinson #bruce banner #thor odinson x bruce banner #clint barton #natasha romonova #salty avengers #marvel #incorrect marvel #this is amusing to me #haha yes

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graendoll · 1 day

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My physical copy of Falcon and Winter Soldier shipped and now Disney can never take him away from me.

#tfatws #physical media is life #as long as no one gets rid of DVD players #one fear #bucky barnes #sam wilson

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fic-finders · 2 years

Note

heyyyy :))

I was just wondering if you know this fic... I believe its a one-shot from a series (could be wrong) but basically the reader and Bucky got into an argument, and the reader left while it was snowing outside. Bucky goes to Steve, and Steve gets a call from Nat about the readers accident but doesn't tell Bucky right away. And Bucky says something on the lines of "if my girl is hurt, you let me know."

Sorry!! I'm not sure if that description is any good but that's what I remember... Thank you in advance :))

Hey, anon this is actually a one-shot from my favorite series.

For the Love of the Game by @pellucid-constellations

the one-shot: The Fight

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #college!bucky #college!reader #baseball player!bucky #bucky barnes series

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ladyladylady1 · 1 year

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In honor of these irl players’ absolutely beautiful declaration of love, I’m re-sharing my Winterhawk Tennis AU.

“I did not fall in love with you, your love pushed me to it…”

Beautiful. Love is love.

Love Means Nothing

Rating: E

Words: 3k

#Winterhawk #tennis au #I learned my lesson to never tag tennis or player names lol #bucky barnes #clint barton #winterhawk au

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thevillainswhore · 5 months

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New Tricks

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: After your brother has to cancel movie night, you’re ready to resign yourself to an uneventful evening back at your dorm, alone and dejected. But what you didn’t count on, is your brother’s best friend and roommate, bursting through the door and asking you to stay; to spend the night with him, instead

What unfolds, however, while you spend time with the star football player, both shocks and astounds you — one confession in particular.

Bucky Barnes, the Prince Charming of campus, the man you have been crushing on for an eternity, is a virgin.

Warnings: first kisses, fluff, smut, grinding, making out, big brother!steve, college!bucky, shy bby bucky, mutual pining, swearing, pet names, huge ton of reassurances, lots of praise, big hints of subby bucky

Author’s Note: beta’d by my baby @rookthorne

Okay, so where to start with this… the idea for this fic sprung from a certain someone 👀 and I just had to write it. Thank you to my girl for being a huge support through this, I love you 💗

These two have my whole heart and who knows? Maybe more will come of them 😌 for all my playlist lovers, you’re welcome - new tricks playlist ❤️

New Tricks Masterlist

I hope you enjoy this as much as I’ve loved creating it 🥹

Standing outside of your brother’s apartment, your impatience starts to wane thin. For ten whole minutes, you have been waiting for Steve to open up. And knocking like a crazed woman is beginning to get old; so is waiting on the doorstep to his front door.

“Oh, for–” You grumble, and you lift your arm up to bang against the door for the umpteenth time, when your hand misses it entirely, owing to the fact it swings open to admit you with such enthusiasm, it creaks and threatens to bounce back off of the wall.

Bucky — your brother’s roommate, best friend, and your crush — sheepishly smiles and scratches the back of his neck.

The line of his shoulders slump when he lowers his arm, and you notice (and appreciate) just how broad and muscled he is. He must have just been working out, or you interrupted him — nonetheless, you’re thankful for the sight before you, and how it makes the crush you harboured for the brunette for years roar to life all over again.

Excellent, you inwardly sigh.

“Buttercup,” Bucky says — the affectionate nickname born from his sappy personality always makes you swoon, and his hesitant smile morphs into a wide one. You’re left fighting internally to keep your giddiness at the sight of him to a respectable level. “Hey, you. Sorry I didn’t hear you; I was listening to music.”

Your gaze continues up to his hair, finding it tied back with an elastic at the nape of his neck. Oh, how you wished you could run your hands through–

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, furrowing his brows.

Embarrassment floods you and you realise far too late that he probably has asked you a question, or several, while you were daydreaming. “Sorry, Buck,” you squeak, praying that the heat crawling up your neck was not as obvious as it felt. “What was that?”

His soft, puppy-eyed expression brightens when you meet his gaze. “It’s fine, doll. Everything okay?”

No matter how badly you want to stand and unashamedly stare at your brother’s best friend and roommate, your true intention behind your visit comes to mind.

“Can I come in?” you ask, lifting the bag of snacks you brought up higher. Bucky’s eyes glance down at the bag, and then back up to your face. “Stevie planned our movie night and he isn’t answering his phone — I told him I was on my way and I asked him if he wanted anything else.”

The confusion that creases Bucky's brows and downturns his lips in a small frown makes you narrow your eyes.

“Surely he didn’t forget,” you accuse, still staring into Bucky’s face. “I make the trip down from campus every two weeks. It’s been two weeks.” A sudden, encompassing guilt fills Bucky’s eyes, and he starts to worry his bottom lip with his teeth — a sight far too hard to ignore. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Um– I just–” Bucky stutters, and you watch as his fingers twitch and fidget — a nervous tic. If he didn’t look cute while stumbling over his words, you would feel sorry for being so blunt. “I just thought that– Uh, I thought it was cancelled. The movie night, I mean.”

You step forward slightly, and Bucky opens the door wider. A wordless invitation.

Bucky rushes to clear a space on the entryway coat rack for you, when he suddenly says, “You know, because of his date, an’ all.” His words falter at the look you shoot him. You stop taking off your coat, and you drop the bag of snacks to the floor, ignoring the crinkle and rustle of plastic.

“What do you mean date, Barnes?” The use of his last name causes a flush of deep red to pattern his cheeks, but you don’t let up. There’s music playing from down the hall of the apartment – right where Steve’s bedroom is. “What’s going on?”

Bucky skittishly fidgets and glances around the apartment, before meeting your heated gaze. “I– Look, I didn’t know–”

You silently mouth a curse, beyond frustrated with your older brother, and with yourself for taking just a second to indulge and admire just how sweet Bucky is when he is unsure. “Fine,” you huff, and you turn to walk straight towards the source and to investigate it yourself.

Bucky’s frantic footsteps behind you don’t deter your haste. “Wait, stop — Buttercup, wait!”

Forgoing a courtesy knock — having had enough of banging on his front door — you barge straight into the room with as little as a greeting call or warning.

“What the shit–“

The door to Steve’s bedroom slams against the wall, and you come face to face with the blond in the middle of a dance off with himself in the mirror. “Sis! Hey,” he gasps, holding his hand over his heart in fright. “What’re you doing–?”

In lieu of an answer, you cross your arms and stare at him, unimpressed and exasperated with his antics. “Don’t you hey sis me.” The fear in Steve’s eyes as you stomp towards him almost vindicates your indignation of being uninformed. “What do you mean you’re going on a date? It’s movie night!”

Steve has the decency to look ashamed. “Flower, I swear, I’m sorry,” he rambles, and he takes your hand, directing you to sit down on his bed. “I would’ve called to let you know but everything was so last minute.”

The grip he has on your hand is firm, assuring you of his true intentions, even when he turns the Roger’s charm up to an eleven to worm his way back onto your good side. “I swear sis, I wouldn’t bail on you without a good reason.”

“Okay,” you say, staring into his face — still not wholeheartedly convinced of his graces. A line of questioning is in order, you decide. “So, who is this good enough reason?”

“Natasha Romanoff.” The dreamy, love-struck sigh that leaves Steve’s lips after her name is uttered has you reluctantly trying to hide your giggle; the righteous anger and frustration slowly leaves your body in his admittance.

The fact that he has been obsessed with the college’s most popular redhead since forever, was a balm to the annoyance. You truly did feel happy for him underneath it all.

And, in the end, it’s how you decide to let him off the hook — though not without teasing him, first. “No way, the Natasha Romanoff? How the hell have you managed that one?”

Steve pushes your shoulder, and the force of his shove knocks you sideways onto the covers of his bed. “Fine,” you grouse, sighing heavily and resigning yourself to a night on your own. “I’ll let you off this time.”

“I’ll make it up to you, Flower,” Steve promises. And you believe him. He has always kept his word; ever since the two of you were kids.

“Good,” you say, smiling softly. “I expect an apology at my door in the next few days, though.”

Laughing, Steve nods, and then he stands from his bed.

“I’ll leave you to it then, I hope you have fun, bro.”

It is an impossible task for you to hide your dejected hurt from Steve, though. Clever and perceptive as he is, he detects the subtle sombre undertones underlying your reassurances, narrowing in on them like a dog to a bone.

You get to your feet with a quiet sigh, and as you move, you miss the thoughtful expression on his face; the perk of his ears at the almost indistinguishable shuffling of feet just outside of his bedroom. “How about you have a movie night with Bucky, instead?”

You stop in your tracks, frozen in shock at the sudden and downright surprising suggestion. “Stevie,” you admonish, “Bucky does not want to waste a Friday night with me–“

“I don’t mind!” Bucky shouts eagerly from the doorway, and you spin around to face him. The nervous fidget of his curls his fingers and hands around one another, over and over.

Had he been listening that whole time?

Guilt begins to flood you. Imposing on any plans Bucky may have made was a burden you did not want to bear, and you couldn’t fathom who would want to spend the night with their best friend’s little sister. “Thank you, Bucky, that’s really sweet of you,” you placate, smiling at him. “But I know you’ve probably got better things to do on a Friday night than be with me.”

Bucky seems to swell in the doorway, his chest puffing up and he sets his jaw, a determined glint in his eyes. “Actually, Buttercup,” he retorts, crossing his arms in a decisive move. “A movie night with you sounds perfect.”

The confidence in his tone takes you by surprise, and you flounder for a second while you stare into his steel blue eyes. “Really?”

“‘Course,” he replies easily, shrugging his shoulders. “It’ll be fun.”

His words, and charming smile, ultimately win you over.

With your attention wholly focused on Bucky as he begins to talk about what movies to watch, you miss the knowing, victorious smirk that curls Steve’s lips.

“Okay,” Steve calls from the doorway, looking back at the two of you, and you can’t help but be frustrated by his stalling. “Be good and behave while I’m gone. Oh, and, no staying up past your bedtimes — Bucky, her bedtime is ten o’clock sharp.”

The scowl on your face only serves to make him laugh, and you huff your exasperation before your hands grip his biceps; the only way to get him out the door is brute force. “Get out, Stevie,” you grunt, pushing with all your might, but it is to no avail. Steve is as immovable as a statue made of marble. “Don’t you have to go see Natasha?”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, and you hear the rustling sound of fabric. “Don’t you?”

Instinct tells you to duck, and you do so, just in the nick of time to avoid the pillow Bucky launches across the room from his place next to the couch. The pillow hits Steve square in the face with a comical thump.

You burst into laughter at the stunned look of disbelief on Steve’s face, and you look over at Bucky, who is leaning against the sofa; a smug grin pulls his lips up and scrunches his nose. “Get the hell outta here already, punk.”

With Steve distracted by Bucky’s betrayal, you take the chance to shove him out of the front door and watch delightedly as he stumbles in the hallway. “Hey–!” The door slams shut behind him, cutting him off.

Giggles shake your shoulders as you put your back to the door, leaning against it with all of your strength as Steve turns the handle — evidently not finished in the war of quips.

Bucky’s laughter from his place by the sofa makes your stomach flutter, and he walks closer, just as Steve stops attempting to break down the door.

With the end of Steve’s attempts to forcefully open the door, you turn and face the wood and peer out of the peephole. A blond mop of hair is just within view. “Bye Stevie!” you call through the door, “Have fun, wear protection!”

Steve’s reply is muffled by the wood, and he flips you off before walking away.

Shaking your head, you turn back to face the living room, and you see Bucky fussing around the sofa and coffee table. The strong aroma of a sweet, spicy scent fills your senses and you inhale deeply, letting the tantalising smell fill your lungs, before you ask, “Bucky, what are you doing?”

He sends you a furtive glance before looking back down at the snacks laid out on the coffee table, neatly placed next to two already filled glasses of drink. A bag of popcorn threatens to spill from his arms. “I’m, uh– I’m setting up? For the movie–?”

You could not help but notice how fast the bravado and confidence he displayed in the presence of Steve vanishes when he was with you, and you alone.

“Oh, sweetie,” you coo, walking closer. “I thought we could watch the movie in your room, instead of out here. It’ll be more comfortable, at least, and we can spread out. Is that okay?”

The popcorn bag that threatened to spill from his arms bursts instead, scattering the popped kernels all over the floor, making him yelp. “Ah! Uh– Okay, we… We can if you want?”

You nod once. “Absolutely. I’d rather be in your bed any day, then out here,” you tease, amused by the way Bucky’s eyes bulge and his cheeks flush. Then you look down at the popcorn all over the floor, and add, “But first, let’s clean this up.”

Bucky starts to clean up the mess, and he tells you to grab the movies you agreed upon from the collection in the bookshelf.

The selection to choose from is packed, as it always is. “Why don’t I grab a couple?”

“Sure,” Bucky answers, sweeping the popcorn into a dustpan. “I mean, why not? May as well go all out.”

You grin and grab a couple of cases. “Do you need some help–”

“No, I’ve got it, Bubs,” Bucky interrupts. You look over your shoulder at him to see the blankets bundled high in his arms, and before you could protest and insist you help carry them, he shuffles off in the direction of his bedroom.

Then, you glance down at the coffee table to see that the snacks and drinks are missing. “Did you grab the snacks?”

“Yeah!” Bucky calls back, muffled by the walls between the two of you.

A fond sigh falls from your lips and you follow after him, DVD cases in hand.

The tension in the air of his bedroom is charged with something you could not quite describe, and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life for it. You square your shoulders, and smile through it. “It’s no different, it’s no different,” you mutter under your breath; a mantra for confidence.

Though, it is short lived.

Bucky throws the blankets onto his bed with a grunt, and both the TV and DVD player switch on, ready to accept one of the disks you held in your hand.

A shuddery breath falls from your lips, and you make your way to the player to place the first disc in. It whirrs to life as you turn to look at Bucky, who is placing the snacks on a tray table, his tongue between his teeth as he works.

“Okay,” he hums, turning to face you, a shy smile on his face. “You ready, Bubs?” Without waiting for an answer, he walks past you to the light switch, his index finger poised to flip it off.

You look down at your body, the warm outerwear you had thrown on to get to Steve’s apartment suddenly becomes scorching hot against your skin, and an idea comes to mind — flustering him has given you a rush of confidence before…

“Almost,” you say, a hidden smirk on your lips. The layers of warmth are soft in your hands while you take them off, and you’re left in a thin tank top and soft, cotton shorts. “Now I am.”

A faint choking noise comes from the doorway behind you when you place the warmer clothes on Bucky’s desk chair. Inwardly, a coy smirk lifts the corner of your lips; outwardly, you look over to him, concerned and ever curious.

His face, normally soft and kind whenever he looked at you, is taut with embarrassment; blotchy and red. His eyes are frantically looking anywhere, and everywhere around the room but at you.

“Buck?” you say, getting his attention. His eyes meet yours. “You okay?”

The fidgeting is your first clue that he is struggling with something, and it is a battle to keep the teasing smile off your lips when his hands run constantly through his long hair and or come to a stop in the pockets of his grey sweats.

Patiently, you watch while he repeats the same actions several times, each pass of his hands only serving to make him even more flushed. “Yeah. Yep,” Bucky coughs. “Mhm. Just great, thanks.” He looks up to the ceiling and gulps loudly. “You’re really wearing those? Uh– Just those, I mean?”

You thin your lips to try and hurriedly fight off a smile as you grab your warm, fluffy socks from your bag. “Of course, silly,” you tease, shaking your head once. “I always wear my comfy clothes on movie night.”

The room turns deathly silent when you bend at the hip to pull the socks up your feet.

Peering up from your task, you see Bucky staring at your legs, evidently thinking he hadn’t been caught and his eyes begin to trail upwards, towards your chest. The slackjawed expression amuses you, though you feel the beginning sparks of your own shyness come to life.

“Buck?” A nervous laugh bubbles in your chest, and you play with the hem of your tank top at the heat in his gaze. “Bucky?” you try again, “Are you ready?”

“Uh– Yeah, yes,” he rushes, quickly flicking the light off so his face is cast into shadow. You could have sworn he looked like a kid getting caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar — wide eyes and a deepening blush that spread down his neck.

Bucky had always been a little shy in your presence, this you knew. Whenever you come over to visit Steve, or you bump into Bucky on campus, you always notice a remarkable difference in his normal, unwavering charm that he had in familiar company.

This lack of swagger gives you the impression that you unfasten the young, boyish version of him; the one ruled by nerves, and hindered by a severe lack of confidence.

Sure, you enjoy spending time with him here and there when you hang out at your brother’s apartment, but never before have you been this close to him, and alone.

“Why don’t we–?” You gesture towards Bucky’s bed, and before he could either protest or agree, you jog to the edge and jump onto the plush mattress with a squeal of laughter. The blankets cover you easily as you roll yourself in them. “This is perfect,” you sigh, happy and content.

“And where am I meant to sit?” Bucky laughs, appearing in your eye line with a bright, amused expression. “You blanket hog.”

“Fine,” you drawl, and you disentangle yourself from the cocoon of blankets.

“Why, thank you, madame,” Bucky says, extending his hand in a mock salute, and he sits down in the now available spot, before sidling up the mattress, to rest his back on the headboard.

The broadness of his shoulders don’t leave much room between the two of you, and you decide to snuggle up to his side in a bid to get comfortable. You feel him tense with the proximity, but he doesn’t push you away or say anything.

“Are you ready now?” you ask, reaching for the remote. “For the movie?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” he rasps, nodding quickly.

Despite his initial nerves, Bucky settles comfortably in your presence — half of the movie goes by undisturbed with only the occasional shuffling to get comfortable after getting a snack, or a drink.

That all changes the moment Bucky becomes restless,his leg twitching against yours constantly, and he repositions himself every couple of minutes. From the corner of your eye, you see his mouth opening and closing; the courage building within him to speak up. You bite your tongue against the urge — let him speak first, you chided yourself.

“So,” Bucky eventually says, his voice quiet. “How are your classes going, Buttercup?”

You take your eyes off the screen and face Bucky, but he’s already looking at you, his eyes bright from the glow of the TV.

“They’re going good,” you reply, just as quietly. “Yeah, they’re busy — hectic, even, but good.”

The fabric of the comforter ruffles as you turn your body towards him — your shorts ride up with the movement, and your bare thighs brush against his sweats. Bucky tenses while you settle in and only relaxes when you stop shifting in place. “This time of year is always busy, the coursework and exams,” you continue, shrugging your shoulders. “But I’m managing okay, thanks.”

Bucky nods his head thoughtfully. “Yeah, all those art projects you’ve gotta finish, it must be tiring.”

Shock slackens your features and you reel back — you could not recall telling him what you studied. “How do you know what major I’m taking?”

“I– um,” Bucky stutters, suddenly overwhelmingly shy. “I hear you talking to Steve about it. Y’know, when– When you come over, on movie nights, and other nights.”

You can sense Bucky is not done explaining; he licks his lips and stares at his lap, where he fidgets, again. Quietly, as if embarrassed, he continues, “I see you lugging your big canvases across campus sometimes, too. From class, and– And from the window, when I’m actually studying.”

Warmth creeps up your neck again and you blink rapidly. You hadn’t noticed that he took so much notice of you before now, and you couldn’t help but feel endeared over it.

Desperate to shift the attention away from yourself, you blurt, “How’s, uh– How’s training going for football season this year?”

Bucky freezes for a second, then trips over his words, “Oh, it’s good– Yeah, it’s great. Coach says I’m progressing well, so I’m doing alright, I guess.”

“So modest, Buck,” you tease. It was common knowledge on campus that Bucky is the star player of the college football team, while also being scouted to join the professional leagues. You place your hand on his arm and squeeze his bicep reassuringly, lending him a bit of your confidence. “Don’t you sell yourself short, I’ve seen you play — you’re amazing!”

He inhales sharply and grimaces, an expression that contorts his handsome face. “You really think so?”

“Bucky,” you say slowly. The tense line of his body is obvious as you shuffle closer, but you are determined to prove your point; assure him of his talent and abilities, for all of a shy puppy that he is.

“Listen to me, honey,” you continue, and Bucky refuses to meet your gaze, instead focusing on his hands. “Everyone can see it, all of us — all of the women in the crowds, all of the kids that watch you from the sidelines. We’re all screaming for you.”

His skin is warm under your palm, but you don’t remove your hand. Instead, you grip his arm and shake it a little. “You’re amazing.”

Bucky stays silent — contemplative of your words, and you take the opportunity to think over the reason why Bucky chooses to stay in on a Friday night.

There is no questioning the fact that Bucky Barnes could pull anyone he wanted, whether it was to party, or to fuck, but to your recollection — and from what Steve had slipped in the past — no one has ever witnessed Bucky bringing anyone home, drunk or otherwise. No partner he could call his own, either, and he didn’t brag about the obvious charm he held over the many women on or off campus.

Cautiously, you venture towards the subject of your curiosity. “Speaking of, shouldn’t you be going out on dates on a Friday night, like Stevie? Surely you’ve got tons of girls lined up for you.”

Bucky’s silence turns deafening, unnatural. His body becomes stiff and he looks to be barely breathing.

“Buck?” You sit up and look into his face. It’s pulled taut with what you could only guess as shame, but that made no sense, and with a mounting, swelling horror, you realise you may have pushed him too far; teased beyond the point of what is acceptable between friends. “Hey, did I say something wrong? I’m so sorry–”

“No! No– I… fuck.” Bucky throws his head back against the headboard and covers his face. “Oh, God,” he groans, muffled by his hands. “Shit.”

“Bucky–” You hesitate, unsure of what to do or what to say. You’ve never seen Bucky behave like this, so anxious and uneasy. “I– I’ll go, it’s alright, I’m sorry,” you say quickly, and you start to shuffle off of the bed when you hear his muffled voice say something behind his hands. “What was that, I didn’t–?”

A heavy sigh lifts his shoulders, and they slump back down as he exhales. “Ihaventevenhadmyfirstkissyet.”

“Sweetheart,” you say quietly, and you shift back towards him. The curtain of hair he’s so fond of covers and conceals his eyes from view, but you refrain from tucking it behind his ear. “I did not understand a word of what you just said.”

Bucky clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably, looking up at you with a great effort. “I– uh.” His hands land on his thighs with a finality not unlike the final siren at his football games, and he utters a reluctant, “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.”

His bedroom is quiet enough you would hear a pin drop. The TV had long powered off, since the movie finished while you talked, and the tension was palpable; a living, breathing encumberment that could not be cut with a knife. The flickering light from the still burning candle on his bedside drawers makes shadows dance across Bucky’s face.

Okay, you think privately, so what?

Bucky hasn’t kissed anyone before. It was justifiable — too busy with life, training and keeping up his GPA. You didn’t have to make a big deal out of this. “That’s okay–” Then the reality of the situation hits you, and your mind screeches to a halt.

If Bucky hasn’t had his first kiss… “Does– Wait, does that mean–?”

“Yes.” Bucky squeezes his eyes tight and refuses to look at you — it is obviously a painful confession, yet he still forces himself to spit it out, putting voice to the doubt in your mind. “I’m a virgin.”

Now that catches you off guard.

Bucky… is a virgin?

Bucky, the star football player; built like a Greek god with the charisma to match.

Sweat beads on his forehead and he looks like he is about to bolt from the room in his fear, and you realise all of your thoughts had shown in your expression.

“Oh,” you manage, blinking slowly. The hand that was gripping his arm had moved without you realising, and you hastily place it back on his bicep. “Oh, Bucky.”

No other words come to mind.

When you came to visit Steve for movie night, a calm, easy tradition in your routine, you never expected to end up in this kind of situation; on the other side of a confession that has left you speechless with shock, all while a strange confliction brews deep within your guts.

You had been there once, and what you wouldn’t have given to have the opportunity to experience it with someone you trusted wholeheartedly — like you did Bucky, your mind supplies not-so-helpfully.

The realisation hits you harder than you expect, and you gasp quietly, still gripping his arm to reassure him.

Bucky moves his hands to cover his face again, and his chest rises and falls with a sharp hitch. The nervous pants for air that part his lips bring you back down to earth and away from that revelation. You know he’s embarrassed; ducking his head to his chest and glancing up as though you had scolded him. The entirety of his toned body is rigid with fear, each muscle clenching and poised to run, to save what dignity he feels he has left after such a confession.

It’s difficult not to stare at the veins that line and bulge from his forearms down to his deft hands, and you almost feel guilty for it; he’s in distress, fretting over the reveal of his lack of sexual prowess, but you cannot help the lingering gaze over his body. He just looks so pretty.

From the get go, ever since you had met the star football player, you have always fantasised about him. The silent crush on Bucky had developed into such a deep attraction you almost couldn’t bear it any longer.

Having convinced yourself of the non-existent reciprocation kept your tongue at bay, in the past. And while Bucky’s virginity is a surprise, it did not hinder or lessen your feelings for him, quite the opposite; the heady weight of it settling over your mind like a blanket.

What was stopping you now? What would be the harm in testing the waters?

To hell with it, you decide. The springs of the mattress creak as you move to shuck the blanket off of your body, then your legs.

Bucky audibly gulps behind his hands when you move closer, and he positively freezes, like a deer in headlights, as you lift your leg up and over his thighs to straddle him. The soft brush of his sweatpants over your legs sends a shiver up your spine, and you sit down, settling your body comfortably on his thighs, just above his knees.

“What– What are you doing–?” Bucky whispers, and his words are muffled behind his palms. You grin, unseen by your quarry, and you shuffle up his thighs to his hips, your clothed cunt just below the seam at his crotch.

The sound of Bucky choking on his own spit is comical.

You pull his hands away from his face, the urge to kiss each palm overwhelming; feather-soft brushes of your lips against the soft skin sends the pulse in his throat racing. “Buttercup, please– This is embarrassing enough–”

“Bucky,” you whisper, cutting him off. “Look at me.”

Blue eyes meet yours, and you pour all of the unspoken words between you both in your soft gaze, willing him to feel the yearning. “Kiss me.”

“But–” He hesitates, a fish out of water again. His mouth hangs slack from the shock of such a bold request, and you place your pointer finger over his lips, shushing him before he can carry on protesting.

You pout, placing a hint of pleading in your tone, “Please?”

He looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads. “I– What, I mean,” he flounders, arms hovering at his sides, hesitant to touch you — terrified of taking it a step too far. “I don’t know–“

“Aw, Buck,” you coo, smiling softly. Carefully, you shuffle further up his lap until your knees brush against the headboard of his bed. Gently, you place your palms on Bucky’s toned chest, just above his beating heart hammering away — not wanting to frighten him. “I’ll show you, okay?”

“Yeah.” The tremble in his voice makes your heart ache, but you smile encouragingly.

“Here we go,” you soothe. He smiles weakly back, eyes still wide with shock. “I’ve got you.”

You slowly and steadily move closer to Bucky’s face. A shudder racks through his whole body when he feels your breath against his neck, and you peck his stubbled cheek before sitting back upright to face him.

“Okay,” Bucky shakily says, fisting the blankets in his hands. “Okay. That was okay.”

“See? It’s not so bad,” you tease, and you tilt your head to the side, sticking out your cheek. “Your turn.” From the corner of your eyes, you watch his eyes sweep across your face, still hesitant and nervous, but a slither of curiosity now shining through.

Broad, strong shoulders lift in tandem with his deep, grounding breath, and he steadily leans in before he second guesses himself. He resolutely does not touch your body, but he manages to find the confidence to gently press his lips against your skin, kissing your cheek.

This time, he sits back and looks up at you for direction and reassurance.

You consider it, ignoring the fluttering of your heart. His touch was sweet, but polite; a kiss on the cheek that you would give a friend after such a long time apart. And, in the end, you want Bucky to gain more confidence and actually enjoy kissing — he shouldn’t have to be ashamed to want it. “Good, that was good,” you say, keeping your tone mellow so as to not spook him.

He is making good progress, and gentle encouragement is the way to ensure it continues, you reason with yourself. “Now, I want you to do the exact same thing, but start gradually moving towards my lips.”

“Oh– Okay, okay,” he breathes, and his eyes widen slightly before they dart down towards his lap.

That needs to be rectified immediately, before he shuts down, you hastily think, and you react swifty, your hands roaming from his chest and up to the sides of his neck, adding a little pressure to bring him back down to earth.

There was an innate need for him to know that he could trust you; that you would treat him with the respect he deserves.

Gently, you lift his head up, forcing him to look at you, and the downturn of his lips makes your heart ache. All you want to do is soothe the fear and rid the worry from his pretty eyes that pierce you, even through the strands of hair that have fallen in his face.

“You’re okay, Buck,” you soothe, rubbing your thumbs over his warm, rosy cheeks. The movement and assurance seem to do the trick. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

A minute passes, and you watch as the confliction flitters across his face; an inward battle to assemble his courage to bridge the gap between you both.

There is another minute of silence, when he slowly advances, leaving his palms flat on the covers of his bed as he kisses you on the cheek.

“That’s it,” you praise, sitting still in his lap, but smiling softly in encouragement.

Bucky hesitantly returns the smile, and he doesn’t move away, rather, he decides to stay close. “You did good,” you say, still smiling, and he takes you by surprise when he moves forwards again to place another tiny kiss even closer to your lips. “Oh–”

The soft brush of his lips makes you freeze, and he takes his time, building his confidence with each peck he makes.

Finally, he reaches the corner of your lips, and he stalls; confidence wavering and faltering with the daunting task. You go to part your lips to speak on instinct, to encourage him, when he suddenly moves even closer to your face, making you hastily shut your mouth and brace for what was to come; willing for your heart to slow down the tattoo it beats against your throat.

“Okay,” Bucky whispers more to himself, and he clears his throat before licking his lips. “Okay, okay. Just–” His lips connect with the curve of you own, the brief and fleeting connection enough to tell you that his lips are plump; ripe to swell and redden with a passionate make out session.

Hastily, Bucky withdraws, but not all the way back — he lingers and only allows the tiniest space between your faces.

“You did it, sweetheart,” you coo, keeping your voice low. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Th– Thanks,” he stutters, and the rosy blush he sported turns a splotchy crimson. Interesting, you think.

You turn your head to look at him, and the proximity of his face makes both of your lips brush against each other. The intoxicating softness consumes you, and you cannot deny the reality that Bucky is there, he is right there. A torture that intensifies in the billowing silence, while a burning, reckless spike of adrenaline rushes through your veins.

“Do you want more?” you ask quietly, breaking the silence and shattering the tension.

A harsh breath falls from Bucky’s lips, and he presses forward to kiss you properly for the first time.

Whatever you had been expecting for a first kiss from the inexperienced, sweet, charming man beneath you, flew out the window. Your lips slot perfectly over his, a chaste kiss that held enough need and want to be something far more; it could not hold a candle to the sex you had with past flings.

The kiss, unexpected as it was, lasts only for a couple seconds longer before Bucky pulls back from it, panting lightly — puffs of air fanning over your slightly parted lips. He lingers, bumping his nose into yours to keep close.

But eventually, Bucky pulls all the way back to rest against the headboard.

The silence is not deafening — not like it was before, and you open your eyes, blinking slowly.

Bucky is already staring at you. His eyes are glazed over with hunger, and he's out of breath, the rise and fall of his chest faster than before.

You fare no better. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, but it still feels like it’s lodged in your throat. No words are spoken between the two of you; just an invisible string that keeps you entwined to one another.

It’s difficult to find the words to say, especially after something so raw and vulnerable; so new and budding. You want him to feel safe, like he had done good, though; you want to tell him he has nothing to worry about, not with you.

And just as you open your mouth to speak, to praise him for how well he had done, Bucky slides his hands up your thighs, over your waist, and up to your neck, cupping the back of it in his large palm. “I want–”

To your utter shock, he drags you closer, his lips greedily slotting over yours for a far deeper kiss.

Bucky can’t get enough of you; already addicted and demanding more. You can’t be mad for it, not when he’s a sensational kisser — he’s good, far too good. The basics have you dizzy with want, and you decide on a whim to challenge him, to push him a little further and test the boundaries.

You part your lips as Bucky pulls back, and before he could kiss you again, you tentatively tease your tongue against his lips. The sensation makes him sit rigid again beneath you, and he chases your tongue, the surprised moan he lets slip vibrates into your mouth.

The power of such a move has you smirking into the kiss.

You only plan to stoke the fire by pushing him into the deep end a little — the prospect of overwhelming him too risky, but when you feel the effortless slide of Bucky’s tongue entering your parted lips to dance with your own, it leaves you physically stunned and unable to move.

Bucky compliments you perfectly, as though he is a natural, and someone so timid should not be capable of that — it’s dangerous.

It escalates — tongues dance and lips clash, and Bucky’s breath is heavy on your lips, as yours is on his, when he pulls back for air. There’s a pull that you can’t ignore, not any longer, and you bring your hands up from his neck to his hair, threading your fingers through it, making him moan quietly against your lips, “Bu–”

Your nails scrape against his scalp while he speaks, and you squeak in shock as Bucky’s hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against your clothed cunt. “Oh, fuck–” he gasps, and his body turns rigid with fear again while he pleads for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, so sorry, Bubs– I–”

Quickly, you place your index finger over his lips. “Hush, you. It’s alright. I loved it,” you reassure, and suddenly, it turns into a game for you — you are desperate to see how Bucky plays along, how close to the edge you can get him. “Let it go, it’s okay.”

Bucky’s breath hitches as you grind down hard against him, and his hands rush down from your neck to grip your waist. The unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful; a delight to be the cause of, and a Cheshire Cat grin splits your lips. You’ll be damned if you don’t get more from him, you decide.

“Fuck,” he grits out, the grip of his hands on your waist turning painful. “Fuck, yes.”

You moan and allow him to move your body where he wants it — predictably, he perches you straight on his crotch and his hands wander, slipping beneath the tank top you wear to brush against your skin.

The resolve he had held onto so strongly is starting to slip, and you inwardly scream with joy at the dilation of his pupils, the heavy pants of his breath — a poor, virtuous man is melting into a puddle at your feet.

The position of your body gives you an impression of just how big Bucky is, and with his cock hard, you can feel the girth and the size of him against your cunt — a crime, you think, that it wasn’t inside you.

Your motions of grinding down into him have the tip of his cock catching on your clit through your shorts, and the thin material has no pretence of protectiveness, and you greedily lap every single, last sensation up while shamelessly taking more.

“Bucky,” you whine against his mouth, and in turn, he nips at your swollen bottom lip before sucking on it. “Fuck– S’good.”

“Buttercup, baby,” Bucky slurs, and his fingertips dig into your skin, unknowingly marking you in his lust-fuelled haze. “Fuckin’ feel good, please,” he whimpers, unable to keep kissing you with the way his moans and litany of quiet cries fall from his lips, longing for more; too far gone, he can’t help himself anymore. “Need more, please.”

You’re all too pleased to listen to his cries for you; begging would taste so much sweeter, though. Next time. “Okay,” you soothe, pecking him on the nose. “I’ll give you more, sweetheart.”

The bed creaks as you shuffle up Bucky’s lap, and you move your hands to grip the headboard. “Don’t keep quiet on me,” you warn.

“Wha– Fuck!”

You pant as you grind down on Bucky’s cock, the effort of making your hips work this hard and fast steals your breath, but the sounds — oh, the sounds falling from his pretty lips make it all worth it.

The added friction of your lace panties against your soaked clit only amplifies the pleasure for you, and it’s all you can do to keep going.

Bucky throws his head back and groans to the ceiling, but you follow him, leaning over and panting into each other's mouths and kissing messily, barely able to put anything behind them as you work the both of you closer to release.

You pull back to look at him, and the slope of his neck is too tempting to leave alone — the loose strands from his hair are sticking to the sweat gathering on his skin, and you watch a bead of it roll down a curve of corded muscle.

Of course, you weren’t going to let it go — you want him to crack.

Bucky moans, his breath stuttering as your tongue chases the bead of sweat, and you latch onto his skin, sucking steadily at his pulse point. “Baby– Baby, please, fuck,” he babbles, forcing his head back further to expose more of his neck.

You oblige, all too willingly and with a giddy enthusiasm; the bow of your lips trace over his Adam’s apple and down to his collarbone, where you bite down gently.

“Shit, shit,” Bucky suddenly exclaims, his words slurring together. “No– No, please, I ca– Can’t,” he begs, and you pull away from his neck, brows furrowing in concern. “Please, I don’t want to– To, shit–”

Words seem to be out of his grasp, and you wait patiently for him to gather his thoughts while you watch the thread of his restraint wearing thin, so close to snapping when he’s this overwhelmed with the pleasure you are giving him.

You can’t have that, though.

Bucky was torturing himself, not allowing himself the pleasure of giving into his base desires - what he needs. “Can’t what, sweetheart?” you ask. “You can’t cum?”

Bucky nods his head frantically, his eyes widening. You consider him, the sweat on his brow and upper lip, the way his eyes plead for something more; he’s so desperate to not cum, to let go.

It’s plain as day that he is holding himself back, when you knew deep down that he is itching to relinquish control and give in.

You decide then to push, to throw caution to the wind and make him take it. “Why not?” you whine, grinding back and forth, back and forth, over his painfully hard cock. “Doesn’t my pussy feel good, baby?”

Bucky whimpers and scrunches his face up, cock throbbing as he grows closer to finishing. You don’t think he realises how he rambles to himself, “Fuck, yes! It does—fuck, it does baby.”

“Think for me, sweetheart,” you say, leaning close to his face. “Just think for me, how good being inside my pussy would be.” The lure of being inside your cunt cracks the last of his resolve; control slipping through his fingers before he can grasp hold of it.

You smirk, watching how his brows furrow and his eyes squeeze shut. “Just think, Bucky,” you repeat, “How wet and tight I’d be for you. How I would scream for more; beg for more of your cock and what you give me.”

The sound Bucky makes is close to a wounded animal, and his grip on your waist is sure to leave bruises. “Oh, sweetheart,” you coo, mouthing softly up his neck until your lips brush over the shell of his ear, and you whisper, “Doesn’t that sound good, baby?”

Something snaps within him.

The headboard of the bed thumps against the wall as Bucky tumbles over the cliff, his restraint long gone, and he wraps his arms tightly around you, curling them around your waist to hold you impossibly close. You feel something wet on your neck, and you realise belatedly that Bucky is crying silently, overwhelmed with the pleasure.

To reassure him, you thread your fingers through his hair again to scratch at his scalp. You feel his lips move up and down your neck, placing open mouthed kisses over the skin “Are you okay?” you ask softly, careful to not move in his hold. “Bucky, baby?”

“Mhm,” Bucky hums, and he buries his face further into your neck, nodding frantically. “Pleasepleaseplease.”

A victorious smirk pulls the corner of your lips up. You know you have him — Bucky’s too far gone to come back down now, and he won’t be able to stop.

“Go on,” you purr. Bucky hungrily grinds up into your heat, seeking it out and forcing a gasp from your lips with the pressure. “That’s it,” you push, and your last deadly blow has the dam breaking, once and for all: “Cum for me then, pretty boy.”

“Oh, oh, fuck– Baby–” Bucky moaned, but you keep steady pressure over his cock, and his hips start to stutter in rhythm. “Shit!”

“That’s it, that’s it, sweetheart,” you coax, just as a damp patch stains the crotch of his sweats, and his legs tremble under your thighs. There’s a loud thump as his head hits the headboard of his bed.

“Fuck–” Your own climax begins to mount, the tension of it unbearable, and just the band snaps, you cry out to the ceiling, “Bucky!”

The room is full of pants for air, the synchronised rise and fall of your chests in tandem with the twitching muscles of your body; the rushed gasps for breath a symphony to your ears.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, and you finally look at Bucky — only to be taken aback with the awestruck expression on his handsome face. His lips are stretched wide in a dopey grin, and his eyes, while normally so bright and soft, are glazed over with post-orgasm bliss.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispers. You feel the brush of his fingers over your waist and thighs, a soothing touch that in combination with his words sends another wave of heat up your neck. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”

You smile nervously, suddenly speechless with the earnestness and fondness in his voice. Instead, you shuffle down his thighs to rest your arms on his shoulders more comfortably, and you play with the hair on the nape of his neck — the soft locks damp with sweat.

The two of you stare into one another’s eyes, then, you rest your forehead on his to whisper, “Well, handsome, not so bad for your first kiss.”

Bucky starts to laugh, then giggles take over as he faceplants into your chest, nuzzling himself against your tits in shyness.

After a while, Bucky starts to shift in place, and you start to rise up off of his lap, when his sudden stiffness alarms you. “Bucky? What’s the matter?”

“I— I don’t, I didn’t mean to—“ He stutters, looking down at his crotch. You follow his gaze, utterly confused — there is nothing abnormal, only the wet patch of cum staining the material.

Your confusion only increases, and you look back to Bucky’s face. It’s blotchy and red from embarrassment. “Bucky?”

“I– Oh, goddamnit,” he mutters, and he looks down at his lap again pointedly.

The realisation washes over you; a lightbulb suddenly going off in your head. He was embarrassed over coming in his pants. “Bucky, sweetheart,” you say, moving to cup his cheeks and force him to look at you. “Listen to me, okay?”

Blue eyes meet yours, his gaze pensive. You muster the warmest, kindest smile; no judgement apparent in your own eyes as you stare at him. “There is no need to feel ashamed.”

“But–” Bucky tries.

“No, listen to me,” you interrupt, and you lean in closer, bumping his nose with yours before reassuring him, “There's no need to feel ashamed, sweetheart.”

His pure, innocent gaze doesn’t fail to make you swoon even more over him. “It doesn’t?”

“Of course not, you know why?” Bucky shakes his head, eyes wide and intent to listen to anything you have to say. Your lips hover over his as you whisper, “Because I love you making a mess for me, baby.”

The weekend passes by swiftly, a tangle of bedsheets and limbs; kisses and fleeting touches that turn into passionate embraces.

It was only when Steve came home on the Saturday night did he kick both you and Bucky out of the apartment with a yell of, “Bye! Have fun, kids!”

You decided to take Bucky back to your dorm-room — an easy decision when you get to watch how his eyes trail over your body as you walk down the halls holding hands.

And on Sunday morning, bright and early, a series of knocks on your dorm-room door wakes you out of your slumber. “Damn,” you grumble, blinking slowly into the dimly lit room. The curtains are drawn, but a slither of gold peeks from behind the fabric; right over Bucky’s face and the mess of his hair.

You sigh and tiredly throw the covers off you, mentally preparing yourself to get out of bed, but before you can get up, two arms curl around your waist and tug you backwards into a muscled chest. The warmth of the embrace makes you sigh contentedly.

“No,” Bucky groans before burying his face into your neck and smothering you with his body; trapping you with his arms and winding his legs around yours. “Dun’ get up.”

You giggle as he starts kissing your shoulders and nibbling at your neck — the stubble of his jaw tickling the soft skin while his lips soothed over it. “I have to,” you say quietly, and you grab his arm to pull it off, only–

“Nuh-uh. Where y’think you're goin’, Buttercup?” The deep rumble of his morning voice has you inner self trembling, memorising your antics of your weekend together. “Can’t leave me.” And to solidify his claim, Bucky clings onto you like a koala.

“Bucky, you big goof.” You slap his arm, but he just grunts his protest, clinging to your body tighter. “Come on,” you say, wriggling — it’s met with no success of him releasing you. “Get off of me so I can answer the door.”

But you should have known that he is far too stubborn to let up that easily — a stubborn puppy that refused to give up his treat. “No. Tell ‘em to fuck off.”

“Fine.” Your only hope is an attempt to bribe him, you decide, and you look at him to find he’s staring at you through a half-lidded eye, the other eye obscured by his pillow. “How about you let me go, and I promise to give you unlimited cuddles for the rest of the day, no moving whatsoever?”

That gets his attention, and he perks his head up to lean closer to yours. “I wan’ unlimited kisses, too,” he negotiates, pouting his lips and narrowing his eyes.

You cannot help but chuckle. “Deal, handsome.”

Bucky plonks backwards onto the bed, star fishing in his sulking — the treat now successfully taken away.

With your newfound freedom, you sit up and stretch, ignoring the grumbles and quiet whines of, “Bein’ left alone ain’t right,” and, “Tell whoever it is to fuck off, I mean it.”

The bedsheets rustle under you when you scoot to the edge, the warmth of Bucky’s body and the softness of the covers already sorely missed, especially when you stand up and slip into your fluffy, warm gown and slippers. The brush of Bucky’s shirt over your skin makes you smile, the fabric soft and worn but oh so perfectly Bucky.

“Hurry back, Buttercup,” he calls after you as you walk slowly out of the room. “Please—don’ leave me too long.”

“Drama queen,” you whisper, quiet enough he wouldn’t hear. The knocking comes again and you curse the cause — if it’s your friend from class asking to borrow your notes again, you were going to slam the door straight back in their face. Aloud, you say, “I’m coming, I’m coming. Don’t bust the hinges.”

You prepare the speech to scold your friend as you walk to the door, and you grab the hand;e — the metal of it cold from the chill overnight. The door swings open with a loud creak, and you start saying, “What are you–”

The lack of a presence, or anyone at the door, stops you short — not even a shadow of someone running away down the hall. “Fucking door dashers,” you groan, and you turn on your heel to go back inside when the toe of your slipper bumps into something on the ground. “What–?”

A gift basket, filled to the brim with an assortment of chocolates and scattered gift cards to your favourite stores, is innocuously sitting there. In the middle of the basket, poking its head out next to a bouquet of your favourite flowers, is the head of a stuffie Golden Retriever, the fur irresistibly soft and the eyes bright — much like Bucky’s. Its mouth held a note scrawled in messy cursive.

“Okay,” you mumble, and you kneel down to look at it closer, worried that there had been a mix up or confusion of a dorm number. As you near the letter, you realise that the messy scrawl spells out Flower. “Wait.”

That meant only one person was responsible.

Your fingers tore open the letter and unfold it; the messy scrawl continues on the inside, too.

Flower, I’m sorry for bailing on our movie night.

I know you’re pissed, but I hope this and the beefcake attached to your back makes up for my mistake.

Love ya squirt,

Your big bro.

“Stevie,” you say, eyes darting over the lines of script. “You sneaky bastard.” There is a post script just below his sign off, and you continue to read.

P.S. Date went well, tell you all about it on movie night next week? I’m sure we’ll have guests joining us x

Shaking your head in amusement, you place the note back with the stuffie, and pick up the rest of your basket. “What am I going to do with you,” you mumble, stepping back into your dorm to place the basket on the entry table to admire it again.

“Wha’s happenin’?” a voice rasps behind you, and sure enough, the aforementioned beefcake in the letter from Steve plasters himself to your back; arms around your waist and his face tucked into your neck again. “Back to bed, c’mon.”

Bucky drags you backwards, chuckling deeply at your squeal of laughter that echoes down the hallway to your bedroom. “You made me a promise,” he grunts, and he pulls you back into bed and underneath the covers, intent on making sure you fulfil your end of the bargain.

Part Two, Part Three

5K notes · View notes

pellucid-constellations · 6 months

Text

Faking It

Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes was in love with his girl—disgustingly, annoyingly so. Enough to start fights on the ice just to make sure he saw her after a game.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: This is FLUFF!! With HOCKEY MAN

a/n: This was originally something completely different but then I hated it so now it's all fluff and now I do not hate it. Pleaseeeee let me know what you think and if you enjoy it!! I love you thanks for reading ❤️❤️❤️

Masterlist

“Jesus Christ, Buck. Again?”

Bucky grinned, split lip tightening uncomfortably. When he turned to his captain, he had the gall to act oblivious. “What do you mean, captain?”

Steve gave him a disapproving look. “Give it up, pal. There was no need to pick a fight with that guy and you know it.”

“He was talking shit about the team!”

“They’ll always be a player talking shit about the team.”

“Then why’re you breathing down my neck right now, huh? We won. Be happy, Cap,” Bucky encouraged, slinging an arm over his shoulder. Steve raised a brow back at him but was clearly fighting back a smirk. Bucky could tell by the way his eyes lifted, contrasting his deep—albeit fake—frown.

In truth, Bucky had been looking for a fight. He’d been looking for a plethora of fights since the start of the season, and was usually quite successful with his venture. It had garnered him quite the reputation, but where the crowd saw it as a short-fuse on a large man, Steve saw it for what it really was.

An opportunity to see you.

And while Steve could appreciate the dedication, it made one of his best players ride out unnecessary time in the penalty box.

“I am happy. Just not with you,” Steve clarified, knocking Bucky’s arm away.

Bucky let out a sound close to a scoff. “Even with my extra time in the sin bin I still helped carry. It’s just part of the game, Steve. Gotta protect the team’s pride.”

“Yeah,” Steve drawled sarcastically, stopping in front of the locker room doors. “I’m sure that was your reasoning. What was it last game? Someone said something about your ma?”

“Hey, he did.”

“They always do.”

Heavy footsteps created a commotion in the hall, the rest of the team finally catching up with the pair. They funneled their way into the room for showers and a fresh change of clothes, and Steve stood with his crossed arms leaning against the wall, somehow still directing an admonishing look towards Bucky amidst the crowd. Bucky did his best to look baffled by the unspoken accusation, but then Sam Wilson passed by and Bucky’s ploy was disintegrated.

“Hey man,” Sam greeted, slapping a friendly hand against Bucky’s arm as he passed. “You let someone beat the shit out of you again so you could go see your girl?”

Bucky’s scoff returned, but this time Steve was having none of it. He kicked off of the wall and went to follow the rest of the team into the locker room. Bucky watched with a grimace, not only caught, but put on display.

“You know,” Steve called over his shoulder, not expecting Bucky to follow. “You’re dating the girl now. You don’t gotta keep up with this whole schtick.”

“I don’t have a schtick,” he called back. At the responding laugh from Steve, Bucky yelled, “I don’t!” but no one was listening to him. Or believing him.

But fine. If his schtick involved you, in any capacity, Bucky would admit to having one.

Some of what Steve said was right. Bucky was dating you now. You were his girl and that would imply total access to you all the time, whenever he wanted. He didn’t need to pick fights or feign injuries anymore (the latter never really worked anyways), because he had a key to your apartment. And you were in his bed more weekends than not.

But, damn, were you busy right now.

Bucky had never really considered how much schooling went into becoming a physical therapist until he met you. You were typically swamped with papers and tests and requests from Dr. Cho, but this past month had been exponentially worse thanks to finals. He had seen you about once a week if he was lucky, and that was a generous estimation. Add your crazy schedule to the alarming amount of away games he had over the past few weeks and he was champing at the bit to see you.

Bucky just prayed it was you in the training room today and not Dr. Cho. His odds were pretty favorable considering the team’s main trainer didn’t usually stick around after games if there were no major injuries, but there was always the off chance she let her interns go home early. But, knowing you, you would be in that room until the rink lights went off.

God, he loved you. Every overworked, high-strung bit of you.

He even loved the scolding look you shot him as he pushed open the training room doors, his bruises and cuts on full display. You dropped the pen you were tapping against an overflowing notebook and rocketed out of your rolling stool, and Bucky adored the way you stomped over to him, biting the inside of your cheek to stop the curse you clearly wanted to let free.

“Hey, baby,” Bucky smiled, this time ignoring the sting in his lip. “Funny seeing you here.”

You huffed, bringing careful fingers up to his chin. “Not very funny,” you mumbled. “Not when you look like someone hit you with their car.”

Bucky let you fuss for a moment, following your touch as you turned his head back and forth and examined his split knuckles. This was your job, so obviously he let you do it, but he enjoyed watching you. So he didn’t stop you from lifting his jersey up to inspect his middle, because how else would he catch the cute way you scrunch your nose up in concentration? If he pulled his hands away when you started testing the range of motion in his wrists, when else would he be able to track your lips as you softly counted and mouthed gentle confirmations?

Never. Because you were so damn busy.

“Missed you,” Bucky said after sneaking a kiss on your forehead while you were prodding at the bruise on his collarbone. “I’ve been missing you a lot.”

You let a small smile interrupt the disgruntlement on your face. Bucky grinned at the change, pressing another kiss to your hair while he still could.

“Did you miss me enough to send a right hook into that guy’s jaw?”

“Yes.”

Your smile was gone again. Now you looked aghast. “Bucky.”

“What?” he exclaimed, sliding his torn hands from your healing ones to wrap you in his embrace. “You want me to lie instead? Okay, fine. No, sweetheart, I didn’t start a fight just to have an excuse to see you. That guy got all these punches in on me because I’m out of practice, is all. I don’t think about you every waking second of my life, and while we’re at it, no I did not use your shampoo this morning because I miss how—”

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, resting your forehead on the divot in his chest. “I get it. Thanks for being truthful.”

Bucky relished in the feel of you. He had been slightly worried that his state would cause you to be more upset than anything. If you weren’t so tired right now, there was a high chance you’d be yelling at him because of his recklessness instead of resting against his chest. So Bucky jumped at the opportunity, trailing one of his hands up to cup the back of your head. He craned his neck down, burying his face into the juncture of your neck.

He hadn’t been lying about the shampoo.

“I miss you too. Even if you act like an idiot sometimes,” you mumbled against his jersey.

Something in Bucky felt lighter, warm. “Acting like an idiot’s the only way I get to see my girl.”

You hummed. “Sorry ‘m so busy.”

You had to be exhausted. Not even a single reprimand had tumbled from your mouth. Bucky had expected at least three.

“When’s the last time you slept, baby?” Bucky kept his voice low, his thumb making unconscious circles against your hair.

“I don’t know. In the night.”

“Okay, thanks smart ass.” Bucky jostled you a bit until your eyes met his. “I meant when did you last take a break? Get a good night’s sleep?”

You sighed, gaze trailing over his face. “Let me fix you up. Then we can play twenty questions.”

“Baby—”

“No, Buck, this is the training room, if you haven’t noticed,” you quipped, stepping back and rifling through a few drawers. “Take a seat and I’ll fix you. That’s my job.”

“Well, what about my job?” he grumbled back.

“You have failed at your job. Your job is hockey and you instead played human punching bag.”

“Not that job. My other job. The one where I take care of you.”

You spun on your heel, a basket of supplies resting on your hip. The sweater that engulfed your frame had the university’s logo stamped across the front, but instead of jeans or slacks—the usual uniform for PT interns—you wore leggings. Your hair was pulled back in the most endearing, pretty mess, and Bucky’s chest hurt as he looked at you.

“My tired girl,” he hummed, bringing his hand up to your cheek as you pushed him down on the exam chair. He sat if only to appease you, his feet still flat on the floor even with the tall seat.

“I’m only a little tired,” you weakly fought. Bucky chuckled in response, sanitary paper crinkling beneath him. “Now let me clean you up.”

You snapped gloves onto your hands and Bucky fought back a petulant whine. If he had been any other member of the team, those gloves would have been on the second they walked in the door. He should be grateful, then, that you only put them on when it was time to tend to his wounds, but he wasn’t. He missed you too much to feel latex instead of your skin.

Bucky’s lip stung as you cleaned it, but he hardly flinched. If he moved, he would miss the pretty way you bit into your lip as you stared at him.

“Remember when I’d be in here all the time?” he asked when you turned back down to grab antibiotic cream.

You let out a tired laugh. “How could I forget? You picked a fight every game. If that didn't work you’d come stumbling in here complaining about a torn ACL or whatever. Big liar.”

“I wouldn’t call it lying.”

The smile you gave him was replicated on his own face.

“You were literally lying.” You dabbed the cream on his lip, and then moved to the cut on his cheek. “You would come limping in here and then I’d see you an hour later running out to the parking lot.”

“You wouldn’t look at me if I wasn’t injured.”

“It was my job, Bucky!” you laughed, eyes giving away your amusement. “I wasn’t supposed to be fraternizing with the players. I’m pretty sure Cho only lets us be together because you wouldn’t leave her alone otherwise.”

Bucky moved his hands from his thighs to your waist, tugging you closer as you worked. “Hey, sometimes drastic measures are needed.”

“You called her multiple times a day… bought her an edible arrangement. Wait, didn’t you offer to drive her kids to school a few times?”

“It worked, didn’t it,” he posed, nudging his nose against your cheek. You giggled, lightly slapping his arm to get away.

“The edible arrangement was a good touch,” you relented.

Bucky released you as you wiggled from his grip, flitting around the training room to put supplies back. He spotted your backpack in the corner of the room, unzipped with the water bottle tipping out. When you sat down at the computer to document his care, which he found a bit ridiculous (you only put a bandaid on his face), Bucky walked over and gathered your things. He did so slowly so you wouldn’t notice; you probably had plans to stay at the rink for another few hours, and that was not okay with him.

With a final zip and your water bottle now standing upright, Bucky meandered over to your seated position. He hooked his chin over your shoulder as you worked, leaning over and tapping your phone screen for the time. His heart twisted warmly in his chest when he saw a picture of himself smiling under the 8:00 pm displayed on the homescreen.

After all the pining and work it took to get you, Bucky often felt this wasn’t real.

God, he loved you.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” you whispered, clicking away at the computer. “I still have some charting to do. Peter hit his head yesterday and I have to do the follow up work.”

Still in his uniform, Bucky wrapped you up from behind. Now you would both need a shower and he could get you to leave. He kissed the back of your head, and then your temple, and then your cheek as he craned his neck to watch you work. You smelled like fresh laundry and books and the subtle hint of your perfume.

“Parker’s fine. He was up and playing today. Let’s go home, baby,” Bucky murmured, most of his words spoken against your skin.

“I know he’s okay. But head injuries are a completely different protocol and I have to—”

“I miss you,” he reiterated. “And you’re working too hard. All the lights are off in the rink ‘cept for this one. Come back to my place. Let me take care of you.”

“Why don’t you shower and change first? I’ll leave with you once you finish.”

Bucky spun your stool around suddenly, one hand on your waist, the other reaching back to steady himself on the desk now at your back. “Oh no, don’t try to pull that on me. I get back in here, you’re gonna tell me you started something new you can only finish on the PT computer and you can’t leave for another hour. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

You let out a quick sigh, caught. “Well, what about—”

“Nope,” Bucky interrupted. He used his far hand to shut the facility computer and then guided you up. “You’re coming home with me. You’re gonna sit in the car while I drive you to my apartment and then we’re gonna take a shower together and I’m gonna make you feel so good you don’t even remember what a concussion is.”

“Bucky,” you chastised, hiding your face in his shoulder.

His laugh shook your head. “Still so damn shy.” He reached down to grab your bag, slinging it over his shoulder and placing a hand on the back of your neck, meeting your averted gaze. “Just me in here, baby.”

“I know. But you don’t have to be so vulgar.”

“Vulgar? Sweetheart, if you want vulgar I’ll tell you exactly what I’m gonna do to you the second we—”

You slapped your hand over his mouth, careful for the delicate skin there. Still, Bucky was sure you could feel his smile against your skin, and he fought back an even bigger one when he saw the embarrassed twist of your brow.

Slowly, he pried your wrist down, kissing the palm of your hand on the way. “Sorry,” he whispered, not sorry in the slightest.

You pursed your lips, flustered. “You’re such an antagonizer.”

Bucky could do this every day and never grow tired of it. It had been months now and he found himself only wanting you more.

“Can’t help it. I love you.”

Your faux annoyance morphed into a bashful smile, the kind Bucky remembered from his time faking injuries. It was reminiscent of when you were trying not to laugh at his jokes, or smile at his flirting, or give him any reaction he was looking for.

But he always got what he wanted in the end.

And, more than anything, he wanted you.

“That one do the trick?” Bucky asked. “Am I finally getting my girl to come home with me?”

When you looked up at him with raised brows and a smile twisted up at the corners, he knew you’d given up. Perfect timing, too, because—in all honesty—Bucky had been punched in the side during his on-ice tussle, and his ribs were starting to hurt. You were going to be pissed when you saw the bruise form tomorrow morning, but you would be pissed in his bed, so it was worth it to Bucky.

“I have to get a little bit of homework done when we get there,” you reasoned, pointing an accusing finger at your boyfriend.

He threw his hands up in surrender, dropping one down over your shoulders as you both walked out. “Okay, okay. Homework at my place, I got it.”

“That comes first, Bucky. Before anything else. Shower, then homework, and then… other things.”

“I know what first means, baby.”

“Good.”

But Bucky had other plans, and they did not involve homework. He was pretty sure you were ahead, anyways. Like, weeks ahead, actually.

“You eat dinner yet?” he asked, fishing his keys from his pocket.

You looked up at him, incredulous. “What did I just say?”

“What?” he defended, tugging you closer as the wind in the parking lot whipped at your clothes. “I can’t make sure my girl’s had dinner? What am I allowed to do?”

You only scoffed, tucking yourself further into his side. “Keep me warm.”

“Always, baby.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #college!bucky #athlete!bucky #bucky barnes

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endless-summer-soldier · 11 months

Text

ice ice baby - chapter ten

pairing: CollegeHockeyPlayer!Bucky x CollegeFigureSkater!Reader

summary: Bucky is a college hockey player, Y/N is a figure skater without a partner. What's happens when these two opposites start sharing the ice...

warnings: enemies to lovers trope, some alcohol use

word count: 4.3k

taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @whiskeyrosepoetry

series playlist

series masterlist

The team stood on the ice, idling in place as a member of the university acapella group sang the national anthem. It was the first round of the playoffs and Bucky was doing his best to fight off the nerves. He caught Y/N’s eye in the stands and smiled at her, excited that she was there to support him. But her presence made him more nervous because he wanted to impress her.

As the anthem ended and the crowd broke out into applause, the team skated to the sidelines for a drink of water to prepare for the start of the game. Then, an announcement came over the PA system.

“And now we have a very special presentation honoring all our graduating seniors.”

Bucky looked up at the screen in surprise. He peered around to his teammates, but their eyes were all glued to the screen.

The first message was from Steve’s parents, talking about how proud they were of him and wishing him luck in the game. Then Sam’s sister and his nephews appeared, smiling big and gushing over Sam. As the messages continued, Bucky wondered who his message would be from. It could be from his mother, but they weren’t terribly close. Maybe his younger sister, but he hadn’t spoken with her in a while. His question was answered a moment later when he saw Y/N’s face on the screen.

“Hey Buck,” she smiled at the camera, “I don’t know if you realize how much of an impact you have had on me over the past few months. First you swooped in and saved me by agreeing to be my partner. You persevered through my perfectionism and high standards, impressing both of us, which is when you gained my trust. And then, you pushed me outside of my comfort zone. Aside from my mother, you are the only person that has challenged me to try new things and to just stop and appreciate life every so often. Now, I’m not a very sentimental person and I’m terrible at expressing my feelings, but I mean it when I say that I love you.”

She gave one more genuine smile at the camera and Bucky subconsciously placed his hand over his heart. He looked up to find her in the crowd and she was already peering down at him, her bottom lip wedged between her teeth. She was nervous about putting herself out there. Bucky gave her the toothiest grin and mouthed “I love you too.” She drew a heart in the air with her two pointer fingers and smiled back at him. Now he was ready to play.

In the last period, the game was tied 2-2. Bucky was playing extremely well. He had to admit, his figure skating lessons had improved his speed and technique, and his opponents weren’t ready for it.

The clock was ticking down under the two minute mark, and something had to happen. Bucky was not letting this game go into overtime. He looked toward Coach Selvig and made a small T with his hands, signaling for a timeout. Selvig nodded and called for time as the team skated over to the bench.

“I’ve got something,” Bucky told the coach. He dropped his gloves to snag the small white board and marker, drawing out the play he had in mind. As he looked around, his teammates were nodding and Solvig held a thoughtful hand to his chin.

“That could work,” he approved. The team took one final sip of water and then the whistle called them back to the ice. Clint positioned himself in the small circle for the faceoff while everyone else circled around the ice.

The puck dropped and Clint flicked the puck to Peter, who sped down the ice. Bucky and Steve shielded him on either side, keeping defenders out of his way. Peter looked toward the goal and took a fake shot while actually passing the puck to Sam. Sam skated around the back of the net and attempted to sneak the puck into the corner of the goal. One of the defenders saw it happening too quickly, and got a stick on the shot. The puck spun out toward Steve and he effortlessly collected it, skating around to reset the offense. Bucky gave him space, skating back towards the neutral zone to get a read on possible plays. Clint moved opposite Steve and attempted to get open, but Steve didn’t have many options. He passed the puck back to Sam when Bucky saw an opportunity. He skated in to protect Sam, planning to slam the defender into the ice. But Sam had a different idea.

He passed the puck just ahead of where Bucky was skating to and Bucky sped up to claim it. He was expecting a defender to put some pressure on him any second now, but the moment never came. Bucky continued skating to a wide open goal and found he was playing chicken with the goalie. He leaned toward the right, waiting for the goalie to shift, and as soon as he did, Bucky took a shot to the left. The shot clinked off the goalpost and flew into the back of the net. The lights flashed above the goal and Bucky glanced up at the scoreboard. With a mere 15 seconds left, this game was as good as over.

His teammates pulled him into a tight group hug and he heard the crowd going wild. The refs broke up the celebration and asked the players to reset, preparing for the final faceoff. Clint stood in the middle of the circle and easily won the puck, passing to Steve who skated in a figure eight to kill the time. The air horn blew, calling for the final time and the team celebrated once again. They shook hands with the other team and the opposition quickly filed off the ice. The fans were tossing teddy bears, scarves, and mittens onto the ice to celebrate the team.

Solvig approached Bucky and gave him a pat on the back before letting him know the broadcast crew wanted to do a quick interview with him. He skated over to the edge of the rink and answered a few basic questions from the anchor. As much as he was loving the victory, all he could think about was Y/N. He wanted to squeeze her tight in his big arms and tell her he loved her over and over again. As he skated away, he saw her standing behind the glass, smiling at him.

“Come here,” he mouthed and motioned. She looked toward the bench, figuring out how to get past the glass and acted before thinking. She jumped over the barrier onto the bench, and then used the little door to let herself onto the ice. She was surprised to find she didn’t even bother to consider the consequences of this action. She honestly didn’t care if she was forcibly removed from the ice, she just wanted to be with Bucky.

She trode carefully on the ice in her boots, and Bucky did most of the work, striding toward her with little effort.

“There you are,” he said, cupping her face with his hands.

“You were amazing. I’m so proud of you!”

“Really?” He said reflexively. It had been a long time since someone said those words to him.

“Of course. Now I can brag to anyone that will listen about my stud of a boyfriend who scored the game winning goal in the playoffs.”

He smiled and bit his bottom lip as a blush spread to his cheeks, “Oh boyfriend, huh?”

“Don’t tell me now you have a problem with labels. I just announced to this whole stadium that I love you!”

He placed a hand around her waist and leaned in close, whispering “I love labels. Almost as much as I love you.” He closed the gap between them in a passionate kiss as her hand found the back of his neck. He leaned her back into a dip and she squealed in his mouth in surprise.

“Get a room!” Sam yelled. They separated and Bucky returned her to vertical, before telling Sam to shut up.

“Now the real question is, how are we celebrating?”

T W O Y E A R S L A T E R

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” Y/N whispered to Bucky. The two were dressed head-to-toe in red and blue Ralph Lauren layers that consisted of a sweater donning the American flag, a buffalo plaid puffer, blue and red boots, and navy blue beanies with the American Olympic Committee logo. The only difference in their ensembles was that Y/N had on a pair of sleek navy leggings, while Bucky was in white snow pants.

“I feel…puffy…” she managed to say.

“Well you look adorable. You know I can’t resist you in a beanie,” he said, planting a wet kiss on her cheek.

She blushed before pushing him away, reminding him that they were about to walk out with the rest of their country representatives. It was the opening ceremonies for the Olympics and all that was required of them for tonight was to walk out with their flag, smile, and wave at the crowd. Yet this was the moment that everything hit Y/N; not only was her dream coming true, but she was doing it with Bucky at her side.

As much as she would’ve loved to compete with Bucky, it wasn’t possible with his hockey schedule. She found another partner who skated well and was easy to work with. She still turned to Bucky for music recommendations, wanting to keep the crowd and judges on the edge of their seats.

Bucky had made the US hockey team with ease. He’d been playing in the minor league and practicing with the national team whenever warranted. He was drafted by the Boston Bruins after graduation and was scheduled to start practicing with the team following the Olympic games.

Y/N had been training in Lake Placid, which was close enough to Boston for them to see each other when they had free time. It wasn’t ideal, but it worked fine. Bucky’s latest campaign was for Y/N to move to Boston and move in with him after the Olympics. She wasn’t convinced just yet. She had to figure out what her next step was career wise. This would likely be her only Olympics but she wasn’t quite ready to hang up her skates.

“This is it,” Bucky interrupted her thoughts and grasped her hand, as they prepared for the big stage.

She turned to him and said, “No one I’d rather have by my side.”

Y/N had her headphones in and was stretching in an attempt to release the stress she was currently harboring. She was next up to skate and was feeling more nervous than she expected. This was the biggest stage she’d ever skated on and she was trying not to let the pressure get the best of her.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to find her partner Scott, smiling at her. If he was nervous, he wasn’t showing it. He asked if she was ready because they were on next and she merely nodded. The routine was great, but technically challenging. Even the slightest misstep could ruin the whole thing. She pulled herself together and followed Scott to their on deck position.

She was practicing her deep breathing to center herself when Scott nudged her arm ever so slightly. She turned to him, curiously and he merely pointed out toward the crowd. Y/N peered out into the crowd and found the entire USA hockey team seated behind the judges at the top few rows of the arena. Her mouth turned upward into a smile when she saw Bucky leading the pack with a “Y/N for Gold” poster above his head. He never ceased to amaze her. After two years of being together, he still managed to pull off the perfect surprises. The butterflies in her stomach never quite went away when he was around. He caught her gaze and gave her a thumbs up as if to say “You’ve got this.” She carefully placed her fingers to her lips and blew him a gentle kiss. Bucky caught the symbolic kiss in his fist before placing it over his heart.

Y/N turned to Scott with a nod and said, “I’m ready.”

Everything was a blur. Y/N and Scott completed the routine, but she did so without thinking about it. It was like she was commuting to work and all the sudden she pulled into the parking lot, realizing she hadn’t paid any attention to how she got there. On ice, the specifics of the routine weren’t on her mind; she was thinking about Bucky and the first time they skated together. It was a mess, he was all over the place. And yet, they built something out of nothing. Her mind then drifted to their routine at nationals. Bucky pushed her out of her comfort zone, creating an edge over the competition she didn’t realize was possible. Being on the ice with him that day felt magical. The only time she had felt like that before was the first time she skated with her mom. Now, being here on the biggest stage imaginable, she realized that the competition didn’t matter. All that mattered was her happiness. And Bucky gave her that.

She was released from her thoughts when Scott shook her shoulders and smiled at her. She mirrored his expression before glancing up at the rankings, where she saw their names at the top of the board, claiming the highest score of the competition so far. She glanced up into the crowd and saw the US hockey team cheering wildly and all she wanted was to climb up those stands and throw her arms around Bucky.

Before she knew it, she was standing on the podium and they were placing an Olympic gold medal around her neck. This was the moment she had dreamed about her whole life, and yet something was missing. She smiled for the cameras and teared up imagining her mother cheering her on in the afterlife, but what she really wanted was Bucky by her side.

After the medal ceremony, there were several news interviews that she took with Scott and she provided the generic responses she had mentally rehearsed in preparation for this moment. Apart from wanting to find Bucky, she really just felt relieved that all the build up to the competition was finally over. She could finally relax and enjoy being across the world with her person.

Once the press frenzy was over, Y/N and Scott retired to their dressing room, where they would collect their things and head to the dormitories. They were both emotionally drained from all the attention, but they still had smiles plastered on their faces.

As soon as they opened the door, Y/N first noticed the “Y/N for Gold” sign propped up against the vanity and then she found Bucky sitting in her chair, phone out but head turned toward her. In a millisecond, he was up and had Y/N spinning off the ground in his arms.

“There’s my superstar!” he gushed, squeezing her as tight as he could. “You crushed it out there, Ace!”

When he put her down, he greeted Scott with a fist bump and complimented him on a flawless routine. Scott quickly collected his things and announced that he would head back so that they could have some time alone with each other, much to the couple’s appreciation.

Y/N nuzzled into Bucky’s shoulder, happy to be in his arms again.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“Watching you skate today took my breath away. I’ve seen you skate before, but it’s different being with you on the ice. I was always focused more on what my next move was. But tonight, I was able to focus all my attention on you and you were absolutely incredible. I love that I was able to be here to see years of hard work pay off. I am so unbelievably proud of you.” He kissed the top of her head and pulled her in closer.

His words were so genuine and kind that she didn’t know how to react. The only thing she could manage back was, “I love you so much.” She pulled her head off his shoulder and planted a sweet kiss on his lips. As they separated, Bucky held her eyes for a moment and he never felt so connected or so in love.

“You know what, fuck it,” he muttered to himself. Y/N looked at him, confused, and it was only when he held her hands and got down on one knee did she realize what was happening.

“I had a whole plan for how I was going to do this. We were going to go out to a beautiful dinner on a yacht and the server would bring out a chocolate mousse for dessert and right on top would be the ring. But something about this moment just feels right. You’re standing in front of me in your team USA tracksuit with a gold medal around your neck and all I can think about is how desperately I want to marry you. And please know I don’t want to overshadow your Olympic victory at all, I just can’t spend another day calling you my girlfriend when I want you to be my fiance. So, Y/F/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

The tears had started dropping before he was finished. It wasn’t until Bucky lifted his eyebrows that she realized she hadn’t responded.

“Yes, absolutely yes. I would love to marry you.”

He nearly jumped up from his knee to pick her up and smother her with kisses.

“I love you so much. Did I say that? I don’t think I said that,” Bucky rambled.

“I know Bucky. I love you too.”

He carefully put her down and slid the ring onto her delicate finger.

“Can we still go to dinner on the yacht? Because that sounds really lovely.”

He chuckled, “Hell yeah we’re still doing that. Now we have a reason to celebrate.”

“Okay good. We should get out of here though, you have a big game tomorrow.”

“Yeah okay, but only if you stay and cuddle with me tonight.”

“Now you know I can’t say no to my fiance,” she smiled up at him. He planted a kiss on her head before they collected her things and headed out.

Y/N was seated in the stands, a few rows behind the team, dressed in her team USA gear. The hockey team was warming up to face Canada, a major rival in Olympic hockey. USA and Canada had a history of facing each other in the gold medal game, and this year was no different. She sat there, twisting her engagement ring in an attempt to calm her nerves. Bucky was so close to achieving his goal and she wanted it so badly for him. He was the reason all her dreams came true and he deserved to win something too.

“Excuse me, are you Y/N?” An older man approached her side with a woman who she assumed was his wife.

“Yes, I am,” she responded.

He extended his hand, “Hi, I’m Joe Rogers and this is my wife, Sarah. We’re Steve’s parents.”

Her expression changed from confused to delight, “Oh, hi! So great to meet you.”

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” Sarah said.

“Likewise! I should probably thank you for all the support you’ve shown Bucky. He’s spoken so highly about you both and I know he wouldn’t be here today without you.”

“He’s always been a good kid, he just fell into the wrong group. Watching him grow up to be a wonderful young man has been priceless,” Joe said. It warmed my heart that they spoke so highly of Bucky.

“How lucky are we that our Stevie and James both made the team!” Sarah exclaimed.

“Those two are inseparable. I don’t think they would’ve been able to function being apart for this long,” Y/N added. On top of both making the USA team, they had both been drafted by the Bruins.

Sarah and Joe chuckled and they continued chatting like old friends, keeping Y/N’s mind off her game day nerves. But that only lasted until the opening face off; once the puck was in play, she started twisting her ring again.

Into the third period, the score was 0-0. Both teams were playing extremely well on both sides of the ice, and both goalies saved several shots on goal. While Bucky and Steve were both playing really well, they had nothing to show for it on the scoreboard. It was easy to see why the two had been drafted together; they had a connection on the ice that was telepathic, each knowing exactly where the other was and what they were thinking.

And then, out of nowhere, Canada scored a goal. It happened so quickly that Y/N nearly missed it. One of the players took a shot on the goal and the puck skimmed one of his teammates skates, changing the angle ever so slightly that the goalie didn’t pick up on. It was rotten luck, but sometimes that happened in ice hockey.

There were only three minutes left in the game, but that was more than enough time. It only took a few seconds to score, but the team would have to keep the puck on the offensive side of the ice. Team USA pulled their goalie and added another man on the ice, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference if Canada scored again.

They did a great job moving the puck around and clearing out space for their teammates, but the goalie stopped every attempt at a goal. This didn’t discourage the team, as they continued to attack on offense, but as the clock ticked down, the reality of the situation was setting in. The final buzzer rang and team Canada circled up in a big group hug. Y/N watched Bucky look up at the scoreboard before hanging his head in defeat.

“They put up such a good fight. At least they can be proud of how they played,” Sarah said. Y/N nodded, agreeing with her statement but knowing Bucky would still be crushed.

“A silver medal is still a great accomplishment,” Joe added.

Both teams took off their helmets and lined up on the ice to receive their medals. The Canadians were all smiles while the Americans put on a brave face, but the disappointment was evident behind their eyes. Y/N couldn’t help but tear up a little when Bucky received his silver medal. It wasn’t exactly the outcome they wanted, but she was still incredibly proud of him for coming this far and never giving up.

Once the medal ceremony was over, both teams retreated to the locker room. Joe and Sarah asked Y/N if she wanted to go with them to meet Steve but she passed, knowing Bucky would want some space to process everything before socializing. She sat in the empty arena and watched the zamboni smooth the ice, wondering what she could say to cheer up Bucky.

Once a sufficient amount of time had passed, Y/N wandered out of the arena to find the locker rooms. She poked her head behind the door labeled Team USA and found silence. She took that as a sign to continue and wandered through the rows of lockers, looking for her fiance. She found him lying on the bench, staring at the ceiling tiles, recently showered and dressed in his team USA track suit.

“Hey you,” she said, taking a seat next to his head. Her hands instinctively found their way to the side of his face and she started lightly playing with his hair.

He didn’t say anything, but his eyes floated upwards to find her.

“Let me see it,” she demanded.

“See what?”

“Your medal!”

“It’s not as cool as yours,” he said, handing her the silver medal that had been tucked in his palm.

“Honestly, this will make for a more interesting display in the house. We’ve got two out of three!.”

“It’s not even about the medal. Or losing for that matter.”

“What’s it about then?”

He let out a deep exhale before he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bench so he was almost facing her.

“When you won that gold medal, I felt so full. I was proud of you and I was grateful that I was there to witness your achievement. And I wanted you to feel that way today with me. I wanted to see you smiling in the crowd as they put the gold medal around my neck.”

He hung his head and Y/N leaned into his shoulder and grabbed his hands.

“Bucky, I had that moment today. Despite my best efforts, I cried a little bit when you received your medal. Of course I am proud of you. I’m proud of you for just making it to the Olympics. Winning a medal is even more amazing. And most of all, I’m proud that you never gave up. You left everything you had out there on the ice. I know you didn’t get the outcome you expected, but there is still so much that you should be proud of.”

He turned to her, “How do you always know the perfect thing to say?”

She placed a hand on his cheek, “Because I know you Buck. And I love you more than anything.”

He leaned into her and they shared a kiss that embodied their emotional connection. When the moment felt right, Y/N stood up and held her hand out for Bucky. He took it without hesitation and the two walked hand in hand out of the locker room.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get your gold medal,” she offered, as her final words of comfort.

“Don’t be sorry, I’ve got my gold medal right here.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes hockey player #bucky barnes

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