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A/N #2: I imagined this with Thunderbolts!Bucky. Enjoy!
Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.
Header made by @buck-star
GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.
Your dad has been overprotective of you since the day you were born, which you understand. He just wants to keep you safe is all. You’re his baby and he doesn’t want anything to happen to you.
You and your dad tell each other everything. Almost everything. You haven’t told him you’ve been getting bullied at school. You know what he’ll do if you do tell him.
You walked in the house with the hood of your sweatshirt covering your head. You were looking down at the floor as you were walking to your bedroom. You didn’t make it past the kitchen.
“You’re not going to say hi to your dad?” Bucky jokes.
“Hi, dad.” You mumbled without looking at him.
Bucky frowns. He watched you go to your bedroom. He also noticed that the hood of your sweatshirt was covering your head. You only have it on when it’s raining, snowing, cold, and when you’re sick. He’s going to figure out what’s wrong. He went to your room. He walked in your room at the same time as you took down the hood of your sweatshirt.
“Doll, are you ok?” He asks.
“I’m fine, dad.” You say, turning around to face him.
You almost forgot about the bruise on your forehead. You quickly covered it with your hand. Bucky furrows his eyebrows when you did that.
“What’s on your head?” He asks curiously.
“Nothing…” You say.
Bucky crossed his arms over his chest and gave you the dad stare. It’s always so effective like it is right now. You sighed to yourself. You know you can’t hide this from your dad. He’s going to see it anyway. You took your hand off your forehead, revealing the bruise to your dad. Bucky’s eyes went wide when he seen it. He walked closer to you to get a better look at it. He gently touched it with his thumb. You hiss at how sensitive it is right now. Bucky retracted his hand.
“Come with me.” He says softly.
Bucky took you to the living room and told you to sit down on the couch. He went to the kitchen, getting an ice pack out of the freezer. He went back to the living room and handed you the ice pack. You put it on your forehead. He sat down next to you.
“Tell me who gave you that bruise and don’t even think about lying to me.” Bucky says sternly.
“A few kids at school shoved me into a locker at school and I hit my head on it.” You tell him. “At first, they just insulted me and threw wads of paper at me, but it just kept getting worse.” You say.
Bucky’s jaw clenched at the thought of someone hurting his baby. You know that look all too well. You haven’t seen that look in a while. The last time you seen that look was when HYDRA tried to get their hands on you a few years ago.
“What are their names?” He asks.
“Why?” You asked.
“So I can tell their parents what they did to you.” He says.
“No! Please don’t do that!” You pleaded, grabbing onto his arm.
Your eyes teared up and you broke down in tears. Bucky wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him. He’s right and you know it. The bullying will keep getting worse if you don’t let your dad help you.
“Those can’t go unpunished, Y/N.” Bucky says.
“I know.” You say quietly.
“I’m going to your school to talk to the principal on Monday about what those kids did to you.” He says.
You knew better than to argue with your dad about this. You might as well give in and let your dad talk to the principal.
“Ok.” You say.
“I’m only doing this because I love you and I don’t want anything to happen to you, doll. You’re my baby and I love you.” He says softly.
“I love you too, dad.” You say, looking up at him.
Bucky smiles, kissing your forehead. You smiled back.
“Now, do you want to get milkshakes to make you feel better?” He asks.
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it's not every night that you heard a rattling from your kitchen that woke you up, and when bucky was away on a mission it was even more disturbing to think that someone broke into your house while you were asleep.
"shit." you say to yourself as you slowly kick your legs out of bed, your feet hitting the cold wood floors as you slowly start to rise, your alarm clock blinking 2:37am.
bucky had prepared you for this moment, he had warned you that bad people exist in this world and that you needed to be able to defend yourself even when he wasn't around. especially when he wasn't around.
you think to grab one of the guns he keeps in the house, but it doesn't feel right to you and something in your gut is telling you that's not the right move - so instead you opt for the baseball bat that bucky has resting against the side of his nightstand.
the metal is cold against your warm skin, the lasting heat from the covers you were just under a reminder of the peacefulness you were absorbed in.
you hoped that the person didn't hear your bedroom door creak open as you stepped into the hallway, tiptoeing your way down the steps; heart racing faster with each one.
it's not until you reach the bottom that you try to zero in on where the noise was coming from. it didn't sound like someone who was taking things, it sounded just like a lot of ruffled movements. you try to stay quiet as you make your way towards the noise.
the house is dark from the night, but as you inch closer to where the noise is, you are greeted by the florescent light of the fridge doors which were wide open, casting a bluish hue on the kitchen floors. when you finally take a few steps closer, the bat clutched tightly in your trembling hands, do you finally recognize the outline of the man standing in front of it.
"bucky?" you say, your eyebrows rising in surprise to see him there.
bucky freezes for a moment, feeling like a deer in headlights before he slowly turns his head over his shoulder, meeting your eyes, his gaze drifting down to the bat in your hands for a moment, then back up to your eyes.
"shit." he mutters, but it's hard to make out the words. you watch from behind him as he struggles to put something quickly back into the fridge.
"bucky?" you ask again, wondering why he's here when he was supposed to be on a mission. "what are you doing here?"
you hear a chuckle from bucky as he turns to face you, his eyes are worn out and he's got a bit of a longer beard growing in from being away, but the most obvious thing you notice are the crumbs from your leftovers on the corner of your mouth.
"i didn't want to wake you." he brings his metal arm up to wipe his mouth. "it was late and we just landed. i was starving i was hoping you had some stuff i could munch on before i went to bed." he explains, sheepishly.
"oh is this what you do?" you tease as you place the bat against the wall. "come home without saying hello, give me a heart attack and steal my food?"
bucky lets out a loud laugh as he closes the fridge door and makes his way over to you, grabbing your face in his hands.
"yes, and usually i'm much quieter about it." he smirks, the teasing nature of his words flowing through before he leans down and presses a delicate kiss to your lips, the taste of the leftovers lingering. "can't a man steal his partners food in peace? i just saved the world you know."
warnings/notes: kind of a slow burn with fluff, angst, themes of insecurity, violence, reader has an abusive ex, eventual happy ending
a/n: this took me forever to write but hopefully you guys like it! and also friendly reminder that my requests are open so feel free to send in your ideas :)
summary: Bucky’s quiet life is disrupted when a new neighbor seeks his help
It starts with three knocks to his door.
Bucky had only been home for five minutes since returning from his workout when the noise startled him out of his contemplative state. He wasn’t exactly thrilled at the interruption considering he wasn’t expecting company so late into the evening, but he felt obligated to throw on a sweater to cover his arm and answer the door for whoever stood on the other side.
The man is taken aback when he finds you standing there before him nervously wringing your hands together with a timid smile. He doesn’t quite recognize you, but he vaguely recalls hearing word of a new tenant in the building and assumes that must be you. He notes the way your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of him and shifts uncomfortably in response, unsure as to what exactly it is you’re here for.
“Hi,” you promptly greet after regaining your composure. He’s much more handsome up close, and you hadn’t been prepared for that. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but I kind of have a bookshelf that’s a bit too heavy for me to move on my own and I was hoping you could help me? I just moved in across the hall so I’m trying to get settled in, but it’s proving to be more difficult than I anticipated.”
The stoic man can’t help but to let out an amused chuckle at your predicament; you appear so jumpy and nervous after asking such a mundane request, but he oddly finds it endearing. Bucky was known to keep to himself and avoid interactions with other tenants, but he figured he could make an exception for a new neighbor.
“Sure,” he offers with a friendly smile, feeling oddly proud at the look of relief that washes over your features in response. He didn’t exactly have any exciting plans for the evening, so he could spare some time to help you move your heavy shelf.
“Thank you so much, you’re a lifesaver!” You exclaim before offering your hand for him to shake. “I’m y/n, by the way.”
“James,” he replies before cautiously taking your hand in his left one, thankful for the fact he’d left his leather gloves on when returning home. You don’t seem to notice his abnormality as you pull your hand away and lead the man into your apartment.
Unsurprisingly, it’s sparsely decorated and overflowing with boxes that have yet to be unpacked, but there are hints of personal touches spread throughout. The bookshelf in question sits in the center of the room, and by the scratches in the floor Bucky can tell you’d fruitlessly attempted to move it yourself before seeking his help.
“Just tell me where you want it,” he prompts you before grabbing the edges of the shelf.
“I was thinking of having it up against this wall next to the couch,” you explain while wildly gesturing with your hands towards the empty space. “At least, it will be against the couch once I buy one…”
“I take it you didn’t bring a lot of furniture with you,” he jokes lightheartedly despite how awkward he feels being in the apartment of a woman he’s only known for about three minutes. He moves the shelf with minimal effort, though he plays up the amount of strain he experiences so that you don’t become suspicious of how incredibly strong he is compared to the average man.
“I was kind of in a rush to leave the last place I was staying so I brought what I could,” you explain with a sheepish smile. “Thank you again for this, by the way.”
“Don’t mention it,” he replies easily before stepping back to admire his work. “This good?”
“It’s perfect, thank you.”
“Anything else you need?” He offers, but you simply shake your head in response.
“I think that should be it for now, but if something comes up you’ll be the first to know,” you joke with a smile, appearing more at ease now with the man. Your face brightens before you wordlessly disappear into the kitchen, leaving Bucky alone and unsure if he should make his exit or not. However, before he can make a decision you quickly return with a Tupperware full of muffins. “Here, I just baked these an hour ago so they’re still pretty fresh.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” he tries to deflect with a bashful smile, but you’re insistent he take the container from your grasp and practically shove it into his hands.
“Really, take them. Consider them thank you muffins for allowing me to briefly inconvenience you.”
Letting out a small huff of amusement, Bucky finally relents with a nod and accepts your offering. “Thank you.”
“Well, I won’t keep you any longer,” you proclaim with a sigh before walking him out the door. “Have a good rest of your night, and don’t be a stranger.”
You part with a friendly wave before gently shutting the door behind him, leaving Bucky to stand aimlessly in the hallway with the container of muffins in his hands. He feels oddly warm and content inside, emotions that rarely follow interactions with strangers, but he figures you’re not really a stranger now.
However, you have interrupted his evening, for Bucky spends the rest of the night thinking about your smile.
~~~
Three days pass before Bucky decides to seek you out.
He isn’t sure what compels him to become so bold, but he knows that he has to see you again. You haven’t left his mind in days despite how hard he tries to push the thoughts down, so he figures he might as well get it over with and attempt to start another conversation. He can’t exactly recall any of his old moves back from his own time or know if they’re still reliable, so he approaches the situation the only way he knows how.
“Hey, neighbor,” he greets with a timid smile when you finally open your door. You look surprised to see him, but he doesn’t miss the way your eyes brighten at his presence. You thought the man charming but quiet and assumed his reserved nature meant he liked to keep to himself, so you’re pleased to see him again after the bookshelf fiasco.
“Hi, James,” you say with a pleasant smile. “What brings you here?”
“I was hoping I could trouble you for a cup of sugar?” He asks, face immediately heating with embarrassment at the insanely cliche request. James had a perfectly good container of sugar in his own apartment, but you didn’t need to know that.
“Of course! I actually just went grocery shopping, come in.”
Your apartment looks vastly different from the last time he’d been here, more personal touches spread throughout and only a handful of unpacked boxes still remaining. It feels warm and inviting, and Bucky swallows nervously as he processes the fact that this is only his second time in your space. Maybe he should leave you alone before he gets in too deep, before he has to ruin your camaraderie by coming clean about the person he really is and you decide that you don’t want an ex-assassin in your apartment anymore. Instead, he chooses to make small talk.
“How are you liking it here so far?”
“It’s nice,” you hum thoughtfully as you reach for the sugar up on the shelf. Bucky quickly looks away when your shirt starts to ride up with your reach, but he can’t ignore the way his stomach flips at the sight of a little skin. “Everyone I’ve met so far is friendly and it seems really peaceful. I like having my own place again.”
“Were you living with someone before?” Bucky prods, hoping he’s not asking too many questions. You smile faintly as you begin to pour the sugar into a small jar, but he notes the way it doesn’t reach your eyes.
“Yeah, uh, my fiancé. Or, ex-fiancé now, I guess,” you murmur with a humorless chuckle. “It didn’t work out.”
Your usually cheerful demeanor has now dulled, and Bucky feels guilty for having brought it up in the first place. He isn’t exactly sure what to say or do to make it better, but thankfully you choose to save the conversation for him.
“What are you using the sugar for, by the way?”
Bucky stiffens, eyes widening slightly as he realizes he didn’t rehearse a script to go along with his lie. He wasn’t making anything, but he didn’t think he could flat out tell you that the sugar was just an excuse to see you again.
“Apple pie,” he quickly replies, wincing at the abruptness of his tone while you smile and carefully slide the jar of sugar across the counter his way.
“Sounds good. I’m more of a pumpkin pie girl, myself,” you hum thoughtfully.
“Yeah, I’m not really a pie person at all. Just thought I’d try something new,” Bucky offers with a sheepish grin, eyes glancing around the apartment only to notice the empty space next to the bookshelf. “Still haven’t found a couch?”
“Nope,” you relent with a tired sigh. “I’ve been meaning to go couch shopping, but I’m kind of worried about how I’m gonna even get it up the stairs and into the apartment by myself.”
“I can help you with that,” Bucky blurts before he can stop himself. You appear taken aback at first, but a look of relief soon washes over your features at his words.
“Oh my god, would you really?” You exclaim with delight, and before Bucky can even process what’s happening you’re quickly throwing your arms around the man in an appreciative hug. He stiffens immediately upon contact, not used to such acts of affection and especially not from a woman as pretty as yourself. You, however, don’t seem to notice his awkward demeanor in the slightest. “You have no idea how much I appreciate you.”
“Don’t mention it,” he offers bashfully as he tries not to let you see how much of an impact your touch has on him.
“Does tomorrow around one sound good?”
“It sounds perfect,” he replies earnestly.
It isn’t until later in the evening that he realizes he’s never been couch shopping before.
~~~
As Bucky promised, he accompanies you in your search for a couch and helps you carry it into your living room. It nestles in perfectly next to your shelf, and you couldn’t be more thrilled.
You invite him to stay for a movie in celebration of finally having a spot to sit, and though he promised Sam he’d meet him for dinner he doesn’t have the heart to say no to you. That’s how Bucky ends up nestled next to you on the couch enjoying his first ever viewing of Silence of the Lambs.
“So you’re telling me you’ve really never seen this movie before?”
“I guess you could say it’s been on my bucket list,” he admits with a diffident laugh, grateful you’re none the wiser to the truth his words hold.
“It’s one of my favorites!” You gush enthusiastically before passing him the bowl of untouched popcorn. “But I think that might make me sound crazy to admit out loud.”
“Crazy is good,” Bucky assures you with a tender smile, chest tightening at the way your eyes light up in response to his words. “I like crazy.”
You settle into the movie together with ease, enjoying snacks and answering any questions Bucky has about the film. It amazes him how naturally he can fall into spending time with you, almost as if you were merely long lost friends and not strangers who lived across the hall from one another. He hadn’t felt this way since Steve, but even then, what he felt with you was different. Special. You existed outside of his life as a Sargent or the Winter Soldier, and he enjoyed having you help him fulfill his need for normalcy.
A random sitcom now plays to provide background noise as you and Bucky continue to converse way past the movie’s end. You long to know more about the handsome stranger who has slowly become a normal part of your routine, and you hang onto every word he says no matter how heavy your eyelids feel.
“I’m not sure if I have a favorite song, but I definitely think I won’t be able to get ‘Goodbye, Horses’ out of my head for the next few days after watching that movie,” he confesses with a wry grin that has you quietly giggling into your hand.
“You seem like the type of guy who listens to oldies,” you note with a thoughtful hum, prompting him to shift uncomfortably from his place on the couch. “Would you say you have an old soul?”
“Something like that,” Bucky notes with a wince. He wants nothing more than to be completely honest with you, but he fears it may be too soon to unload his history on you. He’s not sure he could handle the hurt that would come from you pushing him away if you didn’t like the truth. “Do you like that type of music?”
“I did at one point, but I kind of fell out of it once I started dating my ex-fiancé. He hated it,” you note while scrunching your nose in distaste at the mere mention of the man. “He hated everything, if I’m being honest.”
“Is that why you called it off and moved here?” Bucky asks before he can stop himself. He doesn’t mean to pry or be invasive of your past, but he wants to understand how any man could fumble an absolute gem like yourself.
“Well, that, and the fact that he had a habit of getting physical with me,” you confess casually with a despondent smile that fails to reach your eyes. Bucky rears back in shock at your confession, prompting you to quickly interject, “But I got out of there as fast as possible, and now I’m much happier on my own.”
“I’m… I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” Bucky offers gently. “I hope you know how incredibly strong you are.”
Smiling, you carefully reach across and take his gloved hand in your own. Despite not being able to feel the touch of your skin, the warmth you emit is enough to have his heart racing in his chest when you tightly clasp his hand.
“You’re unlike any guy I’ve ever met, James.”
“Bucky,” he corrects you gently. Your brows furrow slightly in response, prompting him to let out a small chuckle at your puzzlement. He gently gives your hand a squeeze before continuing, “My friends just call me Bucky.”
Realization sets as your brows lower and lips pull into a delighted smile at his clarification. You gently return the squeeze before nodding in understanding, thrilled at the idea of having your first official friend in the city.
“Okay,” you agree softly, “Bucky it is.”
~~~
You knock on Bucky’s door with the hopes of having him over for dinner, but it isn’t your neighbor that greets you on the other side.
“Can I help you, little lady?” The man says with a playful smile. His stature is intimidating but his features are kind, and for a moment you find yourself forgetting what you even came for in the first place.
“Is Bucky home by chance?” You ask with a bashful smile, hoping your eagerness to see the man in question isn’t too obvious to his guest.
“He should be on his way back with some takeout,” the man explains. “You like Chinese?”
He doesn’t allow you to answer before opening the door wider and allowing you entry into the apartment. It feels wrong to do so without Bucky being present, but you don’t want to be rude by rejecting the kind man’s offer. You swallow nervously when stepping foot into his home for the first time; the apartment is tidy but scarcely furnished, though you’re not one to judge considering you went four days without a couch.
“You a friend of Bucky’s?” The man asks while pulling out a chair from the island counter for you to sit. You nod.
“I just moved in across the hall, and Bucky’s been helping me get settled in. I’m y/n, by the way.”
“Oh, so you’re y/n,” he says with a knowing smile before offering a hand for you to shake. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Name’s Sam.”
“Nice to meet you,” you smile politely before freezing as his words finally settle in your mind. “Wait, really?”
“Of course, Bucky speaks very highly of you,” Sam affirms with a wink.
“What do I speak highly about?” A voice interrupts, prompting you both to turn your heads towards the man juggling boxes of takeout in the doorway. His eyes widen in surprise at your presence before a careful smile settles on his face. “Y/n, what brings you here?”
“I came to see if you wanted to join me for dinner, but I guess I’m jointing you and Sam instead. If that’s okay?”
“Of course it’s okay,” Sam answers for him, heartily clapping the man on the back. “A friend of Bucky’s is a friend of mine.”
You hide your laughter behind your hand at Bucky’s obvious annoyance towards his friend and decide to make yourself useful by setting the table for dinner. Despite this being your first time in his apartment, you’re easily able to find your way around his kitchen. It amazes him how quickly you’re able to make yourself comfortable in his space and how well you mesh into his life as if you’d always been a part of it.
“You never told me she was cute,” Sam murmurs under his breath with a playful nudge to Bucky’s side. The Sargent merely scowls in response before elbowing him back with more strength than necessary. However, the two immediately act inconspicuous when you turn your attention back to them and sit down to enjoy dinner.
“So how do you two know each other?” You ask before taking a bite of broccoli. Bucky gives Sam a pleading glance and attempts to convey his want for you to be kept in the dark about his true identity, and thankfully the Captain is able to pick up on his signals.
“We met through a mutual friend,” Sam answers with ease. “We actually hated each other at first.”
“Hate is a strong word,” Bucky tries to defend only to deflate at the pointed look Sam gives him.
“I don’t know how you can stand living across the hall from him,” Sam quips much to his friend’s chagrin.
“I’m actually really glad to be neighbors,” you confess with a sheepish smile, face heating with embarrassment while you try to avoid Bucky’s gaze. “I didn’t think I’d be able to make any friends when I first moved here, but he’s made it so much easier on me.”
“What are neighbors for?” Bucky offers with a careful smile before finally meeting your gaze. The room is charged with romantic tension as you two take in the other’s presence, and Sam makes sure to point this out to Bucky hours later when you finally return to your own apartment.
“I’m telling you, dude, she’s into you!” Sam exclaims from his place behind the sink. “You should go for it.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bucky rebuffs with a scoff while taking a freshly washed plate from Sam and placing it on the drying rack.
“You’re kidding, right? You think I didn’t notice the eyes you were giving her?”
“What eyes?”
“You know, the eyes,” Sam emphasizes, immediately imitating the look of longing Bucky had worn earlier in your presence. The soldier’s face scrunches in bewilderment before he quickly shakes his head in displeasure.
“Don’t do that, that’s not what I look like.”
“That’s exactly what you look like,” his friend defends before handing him another plate. “Look, all I’m saying is it wouldn’t hurt to maybe tell the girl how you feel and invite her out for something nicer than Chinese takeout.”
“Alright, let’s say I ask her out. I pull out all the stops, and it goes perfect. She decides I’m the guy she wants to be with, and I decide that I need to come clean about who I really am in order for that to happen? What happens when I tell her she’s dating the Winter Soldier? When I tell her about the blood on my hands? She doesn’t even know about the arm.”
Sam is silent after Bucky’s line of questioning, and unsurprisingly, he doesn’t have an answer. The super soldier sighs before slumping against the island counter and allowing his head to hang in shame and regret.
“I’ve already lost one good friend. I don’t know if I can handle losing another,” he admits quietly, almost afraid to voice the thought aloud.
Sam rests a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder but remains silent, contemplating his next words before finally giving him a reassuring pat on the back.
“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” he reminds him gently. “And you and I both know this girl is worth the risk.”
Bucky smiles faintly at Sam’s words, thoughts already straying to you and the light you’ve managed to bring to his life. He knows his friend is right, but he still can’t bring himself to make a move, at least not yet.
All he can do is hope you won’t mind having an ex-assassin super soldier for a boyfriend.
~~~
A harsh thunderstorm plagues New York and cuts off the power to your building. Your apartment is shrouded in candlelight as you make the best of what you have, and you’re grateful for the fact that Bucky so graciously offered to come over and keep you company until the electricity is restored.
“I hate thunderstorms,” you shudder after lighting another candle to set on the coffee table. “They weren’t very common where I was from.”
“They’re a little loud,” Bucky agrees pensively. Each clap reminds him of his foggy past in the war, and he finds himself fighting to keep the unwelcome memories at bay.
You seat yourself on the couch across from the man and drape your throw over your legs to keep you warm. The living room is freezing now that the heater is out, and despite the amount of layers you throw on nothing seems to help.
“I don’t think I ever asked this, but what do you do for work?” You prompt him after a moment’s silence. Bucky shifts uncomfortably on the couch.
“I, uh, I’m retired,” he replies lamely while offering you a meager smile. “Army veteran.”
“You served in the army?” You ask with piqued interest, shifting a bit closer to the man. “What did you do?”
“I was a Sargent.”
“I never would have guessed,” you say thoughtfully.
“It was so long ago, I don’t… really like to talk about it,” Bucky confesses, refusing to meet your gaze. He knows he’s not technically lying to you, but he’s also aware of the fact that he’s not giving you the entire truth. He doesn’t know how to be straightforward with you, too petrified of risking you becoming afraid of him and withdrawing yourself, but he can only hide his true identity for so long before you find out.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you immediately apologize only for Bucky to assure you it’s fine. “We can talk about something else. How’s Sam?”
“That topic actually might be worse,” he grimaces, but his lighthearted smile that follows signals he’s only kidding. “Sam is good, just busy.”
“Being Captain America?” You finish for him with a raised brow much to Bucky’s surprise.
“You know?”
“I don’t think it’s exactly a secret,” you reply with a sheepish smile while wrapping the throw tighter around yourself. “He looked so familiar when I first met him, and a quick internet search helped me put it together pretty quickly.”
Bucky’s heart leaps into his throat at your words. If you’d done your due diligence on Sam, who’s to say you hadn’t done the same for him? Knowing you, he feels it’s safe to assume you would have brought it up by now if you had found any real information about his past, and he tries to remind himself of this as he attempts to quell the panic bubbling inside him.
“I won’t tell anyone that I met him personally or that he visits this apartment building,” you assure him, incorrectly assuming the reason for his panic is a need to protect Sam’s privacy. “Not that I really have anyone to tell considering you’re my only friend here.”
“Thank you for that,” Bucky breathes out in relief, anxious to move on from the conversation. “But what about your friends back home?”
“I didn’t really have any,” you quietly admit. You look away almost shamefully and take a moment to collect yourself before you can meet his eyes again. “My friends were my fiancé’s friends, and I knew they would never pick my side over his if I told anyone the type of man he really was. I knew if I wanted to get away I had to cut them off too or they’d just tell him where I’d run off to.”
Bucky knows he has no right, but every time you mention your ex-fiancé he can almost feel the anger boiling inside him. He can’t comprehend how anyone could ever mistreat someone as wonderful and kind as you, and he knew if he ever got the chance to meet the man he’d make him pay for all the hurt and anguish he’d caused you. Bucky almost felt like your protector in a sense, like it was his responsibility to look after you now that you were alone in such a big city, and he hoped you didn’t mind the fact.
A sudden clap of thunder has you nearly jumping into the air as you immediately throw yourself at Bucky’s side and anxiously grip onto his arm. He’s grateful for the fact that it’s his right arm you hold onto, but he still finds himself stiffening at the sudden closeness. It’s been years since a beautiful dame has thrown herself at him like this, and his brain feels like it’s overloading as he tries to process the moment.
“I’m sorry,” you offer meekly, clearly embarrassed at your frightened outburst. You start to move away only for Bucky to pull you back, prompting you to look up at him in surprise.
“Don’t be sorry,” he assures you with a comforting smile. “That’s what I’m here for.”
You find yourself slowly relaxing at his benevolent demeanor, and with his permission you slowly ease yourself back into his side and allow him to wrap an arm around your trembling figure.
The rain continues to pour outside your modest apartment, but you find yourself able to fall asleep in the comfort of Bucky’s embrace. The man never makes an attempt to move, not even when the power returns and the lights finally turn on. Instead, he allows himself to enjoy the warmth your closeness brings and admires your relaxed features as you sleep soundly with your head resting comfortably against his shoulder.
He could get used to this.
~~~
You scored a job as a waitress at a nearby diner to help pay your bills now that you’re completely on your own and your savings are beginning to run low, and Bucky notices that you’re gone from your apartment more often than not. His knocks go unanswered, and he finds himself feeling sullen in response to your sudden absence. You’ve invited him multiple times to come visit you at work and enjoy a free slice of pie, and on this particular day he decides to take you up on your offer.
It isn’t a long walk from the building, and he appreciates having an excuse to leave his apartment for once. His stomach is twisted in nervous knots at the thought of finally getting to see you again while he rehearses what he plans to say. Bucky’s boyish charm isn’t what it used to be, and his romantic moves are rusty from years of inaction. However, he is able to remember one move in particular that always went over well with the girls back in his day, and for that reason he stops at a local flower stand to buy you the nicest bouquet of roses he can find.
Bucky is a man in love, and if his gift goes over well, he plans to finally come clean and tell you everything about his past so that he can have a chance at being with you. No more beating around the bush.
The diner is empty save for a few occupied booths, and this makes it easier to spot you when he sets foot through the front doors. Though the sight of you immediately brings a smile to his face, it quickly fades when he notes the distress on your features. Your eyes are wide with fear, hands moving frantically as you speak to a man Bucky doesn’t recognize, and he doesn’t miss the relief that seems to wash over you when you meet his eyes from across the room and silently plead for help.
“Bucky!” You call with a nervous smile, anxiously wringing your apron in your trembling hands. “Perfect timing.”
“Who’s this?” He asks with a raised brow, eyeing the stranger up and down methodically. Bucky could easily take the man without question, but he still didn’t like the look of him. The man’s eyes were shifty and calculating, and his demeanor was one of arrogance and callousness.
“Bucky, this is Michael-“
“Her fiancé,” Michael boasts proudly with a braggart smile.
“Ex-fiancé,” you correct him through gritted teeth, “and he was just leaving.”
“Fine, fine,” Michael offers before raising his hands in surrender. “I know when I’m not wanted, but don’t think this is over.”
Bucky grunts in irritation when Michael goes out of his way to harshly bump his shoulder against your friend as he pushes his way out of the diner, leaving you a terrified mess as you stand trembling in the middle of the walkway. You swallow thickly and meet Bucky’s gaze with an apologetic smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.
“I’m sorry about that,” you offer quietly, hands still nervously wringing your apron. Bucky notes the subtle quiver of your bottom lip and the way your lashes flutter quickly to hold back tears. You look terrified, and he hates to see you so wound up.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Bucky assures you gently as he sets the bouquet aside and takes your unsteady hands in his gloved ones. “Maybe you should sit down a minute and take a breath, yeah?”
“Yeah…” you murmur quietly before allowing him to gently ease you into the nearest booth. In your panic you hadn’t even noticed the flowers he’d brought, and despite your frenzied state you’re still able to offer him a bashful smile for his efforts. “Are these… are they for me?”
Nodding, Bucky grins before handing you the bouquet. “They’re for you, pretty girl. I thought they’d look nice in your apartment.”
“Thank you… for these, and for saving me back there. I can’t believe I froze like that.”
“What happened?” Bucky presses gently, wanting to know every detail possible so he can better protect you moving forward. You let out a shaky breath and absently fidget with the ribbon tying the flowers together as you begin to relay the events to your friend.
“I did everything I could to cover my tracks and start over, but he still managed to find me,” you murmur in defeat. “He wants me to come back home with him, and he says he won’t take no for answer. I don’t know what to do- he knows where I work, and it will only be a matter of time before he figures out where I live-“
“Hey,” Bucky urges gently, affectively stopping you from spiraling. “Nothing is going to happen to you under my watch. I’ll have Sam look into the guy, and in the meantime I’ll do whatever you need to feel safe, whether that’s walking you to work or crashing on your couch so you can sleep at night.”
You give him a watery smile and immediately rush to his side of the booth so you can throw yourself into his arms for a hug. He returns the embrace immediately, taking extra care not to use too much force with his vibranium arm while he holds you tightly to his chest. You don’t know when he’d managed to steal your heart, but you know that you’re falling in love with your neighbor from across the hall. He makes it so easy and has fallen into your life like a puzzle piece you hadn’t realized was missing from the picture. Unlike the men in your past, Bucky treats you with the utmost care and respect, and you adore him more than anything.
Bucky will keep good on his promise, and you trust him with your entire being to keep you safe.
~~~
As promised, Bucky has made it his own personal mission to be your bodyguard during your time of need. He drops you off and picks you up from work, accompanies you when you have to run out for groceries, and spends his nights sleeping on your couch. You feel guilty over the fact that the man is hardly ever in his own apartment anymore, so after some convincing you’re able to talk him into letting you cook him dinner at his place.
“Any word from Sam?” You prompt quietly while stirring a pot of marinara sauce on the stove. Life has been uneventful since Michael’s appearance at the diner, but you hate having to constantly look over your shoulder wherever you go. You don’t enjoy being on edge every waking moment and not being able to get a good night’s sleep, and you just want this whole situation to be over with.
“He hasn’t been able to find anything about your ex or his whereabouts. The man knows how to stay hidden,” Bucky replies with a scoff. The mere mention of him has the super soldier’s blood boiling, but he tries to remain composed for your sake. “But don’t worry. He can’t hide forever.”
Dinner is a quiet affair, and Bucky is disheartened to see how dejected and small you’ve become in the past few days. You aren’t yourself, not that he can blame you, but he just wishes there was something he could do to help you.
Nightfall comes soon after, and Bucky helps you get settled into bed. Despite being in his own apartment, he’s adamant that you take the mattress while he resumes his position on the couch. He thinks it will be safer that way, and he’ll be able to hear any threats before they make their way into the apartment.
“Try to get some sleep, doll,” Bucky utters softly, gently brushing his knuckles along your cheek before making his exit.
“Will you stay?” You blurt without thinking, surprising both you and Bucky as he stops in his tracks.
“Y/n, I… I don’t know,” he starts to say only for you to gently take hold of his hand and carefully tug him back towards you.
“I haven’t been able to sleep, and I’d feel better if you were here next to me,” you plead meekly, the exhaustion clear in your features. Bucky finds it hard to say no to you when you stare up at him with doe eyes and a trembling bottom lip; the sight pulls at his heartstrings, and so he finds himself carefully crawling into bed with you.
“Thank you,” you whisper gratefully as you shift onto your side to face him. Your noses are mere inches apart as you stare into each other’s eyes and enjoy the comfort of being together in bed.
“You’ll never have to thank me for wanting to take care of you,” Bucky whispers back while carefully pulling the blankets up higher over your shoulders. You feel the leather of his gloves brush against your bare skin and shudder before peering over at him.
“You sleep in those?” You voice curiously, prompting him to immediately stiffen in response. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without those gloves on.”
“I… have a prosthetic arm,” he confesses quietly, figuring now is as good a time as ever to tell you the truth. He refuses to meet your gaze as his lips pull tightly together into a frown, waiting for you to say something.
“Oh,” you hum softly. His heart pounds in his chest as he waits for judgement or disgust, but instead he feels your hand gently rest upon his left bicep. His entire body tenses, and he watches with bated breath as you run your fingers along the fabric of his long-sleeve shirt. You can’t feel the coolness of the metal, but you can sense the lack of flesh and muscle. He’s not sure how you’d never noticed before, but you weren’t exactly one for details.
“If it makes you uncomfortable I can sleep on the couch-“
“I think it’s cool,” you interrupt with a careful smile, no hint of insincerity or judgement in your tone. “You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to, but I don’t think it’s anything to be ashamed of.”
Bucky lets out an embarrassed huff of laughter and grapples with himself over your naivety. Would your opinion change if you knew what he’d done with his prosthetic arm as the Winter Soldier? He feels conflicted, but overall at ease with the fact that you seem receptive to his artificial appendage.
“You’re the sweetest girl I’ve ever met,” Bucky compliments you before leaning forward to press his lips against your forehead. You find yourself moving closer so that you’re pressed against his chest, and it almost feels natural to him when he wraps his arms around your frame and pulls you tightly against him.
Nestled in Bucky’s warm embrace, you’re able to enjoy your first peaceful night of sleep since Michael’s return.
~~~
Bucky leaves your sleeping form behind the next morning to pick up breakfast sandwiches from the nearby bodega for you both. He doesn’t exactly have the supplies necessary to make a homemade breakfast, but he knows you’ll never say no to a coffee and your favorite sandwich. When he returns, he finds that his apartment is empty and you’re missing from the bedroom. Initially he figures you must have gone across the hall to your own place to freshen up for the morning, so he’s not worried.
Bucky decides it best to bring the food over to your apartment, but before he can even knock on your door he’s met with the sound of commotion coming from the other side. He hears your muffled voice frantically speaking to someone followed by the sound of shattered glass, your screams prompting him to break down the door and barge his way into the room.
You sit cowering against your bookshelf while Michael menacingly towers over you. A fresh bruise blooms along your cheek while hot tears make their way down your face, and you look to Bucky pathetically for help while curling in on yourself. The roses he’d bought for you now lay scattered on the ground with shards of glass accompanying them, allowing the man to easily piece together what had occurred in his absence.
“You again,” Michael scoffs before slowly making his approach towards the super soldier. He flashes a snide smile as he condescendingly speaks, “Thanks for looking after my fiancé while I was away, but I got it from here.”
Bucky is unmoving, his eyes cold and unrelenting as his hardened gaze stares down at the intruder. Through your tears you can note the enraged tick of his jaw and the way his hands are tightly clenched at his sides as he holds himself back from doing something he’ll regret.
“She’s made it clear that she doesn’t want you here,” he nearly growls through clenched teeth. “You need to leave.”
“Or what?” Your fiancé provokes with a disbelieving laugh. “You think just because she bats her lashes at you and spends the night in your bed that makes you special? She’s a little attention whore, and you’re an idiot if you think otherwise.”
“You can’t talk about a woman like that,” Bucky utters lowly. His body is vibrating with rage, his ears beginning to ring while the tension continues to build within him. He notes the way you watch on helplessly from your place on the floor, and the last thing he wants to do is scare you by becoming aggressive, but Michael was making this feat more difficult with each second that passed.
“I can talk however I want about my own fiancé, pal,” Michael speaks before giving Bucky a harsh shove. The man remains unmoving, and your attacker momentarily falters when realizing how sturdy his opponent is. “Now do yourself a favor and mind your business.”
“Bucky,” you softly cry out, shoulders trembling and eyes pleading for him not to leave you.
James finds himself taking a deep breath in while allowing his body to relax. Michael’s antagonistic voice drones on, and he knows there’s only one way to remove this man from your apartment and out of your life for good. He just hopes you won’t hate him after what is to come.
His hand immediately shoots out and catches Michael’s throat, effectively cutting off his air supply and his ability to speak. Your startled gasp fills the room as Bucky lifts the man before throwing him through your doorway. He slams against the opposite wall with a deafening thud before landing on the floor, and despite the excruciating pain he feels in his body he still desperately tries to crawl away as Bucky takes slow steps towards him.
“Not so fun when you’re on the receiving end, is it?” Bucky taunts before kneeling down next to him. “You’re lucky I’m letting you leave here while you’re still breathing. But if you ever come here again, if you ever put your hands on her again, if you ever even think about her again, I’ll make sure you leave in a body bag. Is that understood?”
Bucky doesn’t receive an answer, but he knows he’s made his point clear when your ex pathetically scrambles onto his feet and books it down the hallway. Resting his hands on his hips, Bucky lets his head hang with a sigh. He didn’t enjoy having to berate the man in front of you, but he can at least take pride in the fact that your ex-fiancé will never bother you again thanks to him.
Bucky quietly makes his way back into your apartment and finds you carefully picking up the scattered shards of glass. You remain silent, even when he kneels down to help you, and he begins to worry that maybe he had gone too far.
“You okay?” He asks you in the softest tone he can manage. Your tired eyes peer up at him through wet lashes, and it takes you a moment to gather your thoughts before you can reply.
“Your glove came off,” you murmur quietly, and Bucky almost isn’t able to catch it.
“What?” He repeats before slowly turning his gaze to his left hand. Sure enough, his usual leather glove is missing and his metal hand is on full display. He swallows down the lump in his throat despite the building anxiety he feels, clenching and unclenching his fingers before looking back up at you. He must have lost it in the scuffle, and he’d been too engrossed in making his point clear to notice.
“That’s not a normal prosthetic arm… is it?” You feebly prompt him. Bucky refuses to meet your gaze and quickly stands himself upright before slowly backing away from you. He feels suffocated by his shame and his guilt, and as he takes in his surroundings he realizes that his worst fear is manifesting itself into reality right before his very own eyes.
He wordlessly leaves your apartment and swiftly locks himself back into his own living space. The walls are closing in around him, and Bucky can do nothing but let his anguish consume him.
He’d ruined everything.
~~~
You haven’t heard from Bucky in over a week and your knocks to his door go unanswered. You’re all alone again, and the isolation is suffocating.
You miss the man who had became a part of your daily routine and infiltrated your space with his kindness and warmth. You had fallen in love with him, your heart aching for him every time he was away, and now only a tightness in your chest remained in his absence. You hadn’t meant to embarrass him when pointing out his arm, and you meant what you said when you told him he had nothing to be ashamed of. Everything had happened so quickly you hadn’t had a chance to explain yourself, to explain that despite the fact that you knew everything, your opinion hadn’t changed of him.
Your meeting with Sam had led to a deep dive into the history of Captain America, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise that your search had led you to a plethora of information on the hero’s close friend James Buchanan Barnes. You knew you should have stopped yourself from reading further and instead asked Bucky to explain everything to you instead, but once you started reading you couldn’t stop. You were overloaded with information about his time in the war, his relationship with Steve Rogers, his affiliation with Hydra as the Winter Soldier, and his role in the fight against Thanos. It overwhelmed you, but it did not deter you from the man or prompt you to end your friendship with him. You weren’t afraid of him, and you worked desperately to get him to see that.
You hold a freshly baked batch of cookies in one hand while the other relentlessly knocks on his front door. You’ve been at this for about a good five minutes, and though it has earned you annoyed looks from neighbors that pass by you in the hallway, you’re determined not to give up until he sees you.
“Bucky, please,” you beg in exasperation, knuckles beginning to turn red from the constant impact against the wood of the door. “I know you’re in there so please come out. I can’t take this anymore.”
You’re met with silence, but this doesn’t deter you in the slightest; you know he’s in there and can hear your pathetic pleas. What you don’t know, however, is that he’s leaned right against the door on the other side watching you through the peephole. His mind is filled with turmoil as one part of him screams to open the door and let you in while the other insists this is for the best. What good does he have to offer you as an ex-assassin? What kind of life can you live tied down to the Winter Soldier? Bucky can’t bring himself to put you through the torment and the danger that comes with being his partner, and he curses himself for ever letting you get close to him in the first place.
“I miss you,” he hears you relent, voice wavering as you fight back tears. “You’re my best friend.”
Bucky can physically feel his chest tighten at your confession, and it takes everything in him to not open the door. He doesn’t think he can stand the torture any longer, and he begins to move towards his bedroom only for your voice to stop him in his tracks.
“I know everything,” you utter gently, prompting his heart to leap anxiously in his chest at your confession. “I know that you were a Sargent in World War ll, and your best friend was Steve Rogers. I know you’re the Winter Soldier. I know… I know that in spite of all of that, you’re the kindhearted man who befriended the complete stranger that knocked on your door and asked for help to move a bookshelf. You’re more than your past, and it doesn’t scare me like you think it does. I… I love you.”
You let your forehead fall against the door and shut your eyes, waiting with bated breath for any sort of response or movement from the other side of the door. You’re given nothing, and it’s now that you start to realize your friendship with Bucky is most likely over. You slowly back away from the door and set the plate of cookies beside it before taking one last longing look at his apartment.
“I’m sorry. I won’t bother you anymore,” you finally sigh, turning to make your way back to your own apartment. However, the click of the lock turning causes you to freeze in your tracks, and you hesitantly turn around to face the man whose door you’ve been assaulting for the past ten minutes.
His blue eyes are glossy with tears that threaten to fall, and his tired features display the torment he’s endured while isolating himself from you. He looks at you almost in astonishment, and for a moment neither of you dares to move or speak. You don’t know what to say or how much he’d heard.
“You…” he starts to say before taking a nervous swallow. “You said you loved me?”
You manage to flash him a meager smile while anxiously stuffing your hands in your pockets and casting your sheepish gaze to the floor. “I thought that was obvious. Why else would I be showing up at your door all the time?”
A quiet laugh of disbelief leaves him at your words, and Bucky feels confident enough now to leave the doorway of his apartment and take a step closer towards you.
“So this,” he says while raising his left hand and flexing his fingers, “doesn’t bother you?”
“Why would it when that very arm kept me safe?” You utter gently, taking another step closer so that the space between you grows smaller. You hesitantly bite the inside of your cheek before slowly raising your hand and offering it to Bucky. A pregnant pause fills the air as he stares down at your outstretched fingers, his brows furrowing with uncertainty while he hesitantly clasps your hand in his artificial one.
The metal is cool against your palm and brings an instant sense of comfort as you lock your fingers together. You fit together perfectly as if your hand had been made for him, and a funny feeling tingles within his chest as Bucky comes to this realization.
“I’m sorry for shutting you out,” he professes earnestly, gently pulling you against his chest so that he can wrap his arms around your figure. “Everything felt too real, and I was terrified of the possibility that you might not want to be around me anymore.”
“You could never do anything to scare me away,” you assure him gently, your eyes full of sincerity as you peer up at him. “I meant what I said, Bucky. You’re my best friend, and I love you.”
“I love you too, doll,” he murmurs with an adoring smile. Using the tips of his metal fingers, Bucky gently angles your face so that he can meet your lips in a kiss. Your eyes immediately flutter shut as you melt against him and savor the feeling of being so close to the man you’d missed so dearly while you were apart.
It’s as if the rest of the world fades away while you share your tender embrace in the middle of the hallway where you’d first met months ago. You came to the city for a new start, but Bucky never would have guessed that your arrival would signal the start of his own new beginning.
A bookshelf brought you into each other’s worlds, and a kiss in the hallway would keep you together for the rest of your lives.
Pairings: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader
Themes: Jealousy made Bucky immature. Bickering. Another attempt at being funny.
Summary: The guy you were talking to ruined Bucky's morning so he decided to do something about it.
A/N: This is a comeback ONESHOT. HELLO, I am alive, how are ya'll? I've intended to come back earlier but health related stuff just kept on slapping me left and right. But I'm fine, this baby in my tummy is fine, everyone is fine! Expect a few sporadic posts from me as I am working on where I've left off ;__;
The morning had started so well.
Bucky took a deep, satisfied breath as he cradled his coffee mug, his soul momentarily at peace on the upper balcony. He had earned a kiss. A cheek kiss, sure, but a kiss was a kiss. And it wasn’t just any kiss—it was your kiss. A reward for heroically delivering your USB to the hospital before your presentation. He’d strutted out of there like a goddamn champion, feeling like he was glowing from the inside out.
And now? Now, he was sipping his coffee, reliving the moment in high definition, when the universe decided to slap him across the face.
Because there you were.
Sitting at the picnic table in the backyard.
With some guy.
Bucky's brows furrowed. He tilted his head. The guy was laughing. You were laughing. You were both laughing.
He squinted harder, trying to decipher what was so damn funny, when he caught the tail end of the conversation.
“So you’re telling me… you kicked him down?” the guy asked, sounding both impressed and too interested for Bucky’s taste.
“That’s right,” You confirmed with a smug grin.
The guy threw his head back, laughing like you had just told the funniest joke in existence.
“That’s really impressive,” the guy said, his eyes glinting with admiration.
Bucky scowled.
Then, like a demon summoned from the depths of hell at the worst possible moment, Sam appeared beside him, holding his own coffee and grinning like he had just won the lottery.
“They look close,” Sam mused, eyes twinkling with mischief, making sure to emphasize the word 'close'.
Bucky whipped his head toward him, glaring. “Hm. I don’t think so.”
Sam didn’t even hesitate. “Are you jealous?”
Bucky scoffed so hard he almost choked on his coffee.
“Tsk. Why would I be jealous?” He pulled a face. “Honestly, if she had a brain, she wouldn’t even like dudes like him.”
"Just ask her out already." Sam sipped his coffee with exaggerated slowness, watching as Bucky’s eyes flicked back to you and your colleague. Sam’s grin widened to criminal levels.
Bucky sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face. “Why do I have to see your face this early?”
Sam didn't respond—he just grinned. Then pointed at Bucky. Then grinned some more.
“Why are you smiling like that?” Bucky demanded, suspicious.
Sam took another sip. “No reason. Just enjoying my morning.”
Bucky rolled his eyes before looking down again. That’s when he noticed something.
The garden hose.
Right there. Within reach. Just waiting to be used.
He grabbed it, tilting his head like a scientist about to conduct a very important experiment.
Sam’s eyes widened.
Bucky turned the nozzle.
“Bucky, don’t—”
Bucky aimed.
“Bucky—”
He fired.
A powerful blast of water shot out like he was operating a high-pressure fire hose, hitting your colleague directly in the chest.
“WHAT THE—?! HEY! THAT’S COLD!” the man screeched, jerking back like he’d been shot, arms flailing wildly.
Bucky adjusted the nozzle slightly—just slightly—to ensure maximum discomfort, the spray now hitting the poor guy directly in the face.
“DUDE, WHAT THE HELL?!” The man spun in place like a malfunctioning windmill, water soaking through his shirt at an alarming rate.
From below, you gasped, hands on your head. “Oh my gosh!”
“DUDE! ARE YOU BEING SERIOUS?!”
Bucky took another slow, calculated sip of his coffee. “I dunno, man,” he called out, voice as casual as if he were discussing the weather. “Looks like it’s raining.”
Sam made a choking sound.
Your colleague staggered back, sputtering. “WHY IS IT ONLY RAINING ON ME?!”
Bucky tilted his head. “Must be one of them localized storms.”
“Bucky, stop it!” You shrieked, but Bucky pretended not to hear you, subtly tilting the hose again so the water jet honed in on the guy’s knees, making him slip slightly.
The guy tried to run.
Bucky tracked him like a sniper, adjusting his aim so the water followed in real time, soaking him from head to toe as he attempted a desperate escape.
“OH, COME ON!” The man shrieked, arms flailing, looking up at the balcony, “YOU’RE DOING THIS ON PURPOSE!”
Bucky let out a slow, amused exhale.
“Naaah.” Slight adjustment. Direct hit to the guy’s back.
You were fuming. “Are you ACTUALLY out of your mind?!”
Bucky set his coffee cup down with a deliberate sigh.
“Ohhh, that was your colleague?” He put a hand on his chest, shaking his head like he was deeply moved. “Damn. That’s crazy.”
Sam collapsed against the railing, crying-laughing.
You turned back to the guy, who was now dripping, shivering, and looking thoroughly traumatized, “I am so sorry, I will grab a towel.”
Bucky twirled the hose nozzle between his fingers like a cowboy reholstering a gun. “Might be best if he, y’know, went home to change.”
The guy glared at him, teeth chattering. “Not cool dude.”
Bucky tilted his head. “That’s fair.”
You looked one second away from climbing the balcony to strangle him. “Are you kidding me?”
Bucky took another sip of his coffee. “Plants looking dehydrated, he was in the way.”
The guy finally gave up and trudged off, squelching with every step.
You threw up your hands. “Are you happy now?!”
“Honestly? Yeah.” Bucky leaned lazily against the balcony.
Sam wheezed, gripping the railing for support. “That was so petty.”
Bucky smirked, absolutely unrepentant.
× × × ×
It wasn’t planned, okay?
You just happened to be standing by the hose, and Bucky just happened to be fixing something in the backyard, wearing a tight-fitting henley that had no business clinging to his stupidly broad back like that.
And sure, maybe you were a little pissed that your colleague—the one he soaked this morning—had turned out to be your senior doctor. The same senior doctor whose recommendation you desperately needed to become chief resident and finally get your first lead in a surgery.
But this? This was justice.
So you lifted the hose.
And fired.
Bucky jerked, his entire body seizing up as ice-cold water slammed into the middle of his back.
“The hell?!” he barked, spinning around, dripping wet, glaring.
You kept your grip firm, adjusting your stance like a sniper zeroing in on a target.
“Oh, what’s wrong? Afraid of a little cold?” you drawled, watching as rivulets of water slid down his chest, clinging to the fabric of his now very translucent shirt. His dog tags clinked as he moved, the metal gleaming wetly against his skin.
Bucky pushed his soaked hair back, his nostrils flaring. “You’ve got five seconds to put that hose down before I—”
PFFFFFT.
Direct hit to his chest.
“YOU’RE INSANE!” Bucky stumbled back, arms raised like he was taking fire in an action movie.
“Oh, I’m insane?” you shouted over the sound of the water, increasing the pressure as he tried (and failed) to dodge. “DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU DID TODAY, YOU ABSOLUTE WALNUT?”
Bucky, still getting pummeled by the water, threw his arms out. “I WAS JUST WATERING THE GARDEN—”
“WATERING THE GARDEN?! YOU WATERBOARDED MY BOSS! MY BOSS!”
Bucky froze mid-step. Blinked. “Wait. That guy?”
You turned the nozzle to jet-stream.
Bucky roared, arms flying up to shield himself as you unleashed hell. “Y/N, FOR F—C’MON!”
“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD I’VE BEEN WORKING TO GET THAT RECOMMENDATION?!” you yelled, stepping closer. The force of the stream pushed him back against the fence. “DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH ASS KISSING I’VE HAD TO DO?! HE WAS GOING TO GIVE ME MY FIRST LEAD—AND NOW HE HATES ME.”
Bucky, panting, ran a hand down his soaked face, his biceps flexing with every movement. “I mean—”
“NO!” You cut him off, eyes narrowed. “You don’t get to talk.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. And then—so absolutely characteristic of him—he lunged.
You squeaked, but he was too fast.
One second, you were soaking him. The next, the hose was yanked from your hands and tossed somewhere (you didn’t care where, because holy shit).
Bucky’s arms caged you against the fence, droplets of water still trailing down his neck and collecting in the hollow of his throat. His wet shirt clung to his chest like a second skin, the muscles underneath shifting as he braced his hands against the wood beside your head. His breaths were heavy, controlled, his blue eyes searing as they locked onto yours.
A very big mistake on your part was looking down.
Because that’s when you noticed the way his shirt was now practically transparent, highlighting every ridge of his abs. His dog tags rested right at the base of his throat, shiny and wet, and suddenly you forgot every single word in the English language.
Bucky noticed.
His smirk was slow. “Cat’s got your tongue now?”
You swallowed, shifting, only for his arms to press in closer. “I—”
Bucky tilted his head. “You gonna spray me again?”
“… Maybe.”
His smile widened. “God, you’re so damn cute when you’re mad.”
Your pulse jumped, and Bucky—of course—felt it.
His gaze flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice lower now, rougher. “I—” He exhaled, then shook his head slightly. “I was being jealous.”
You blinked. “What?”
His jaw clenched, as if he was warring with himself. But then—slowly, like he was giving himself up—he leaned in, his nose brushing yours.
“I didn’t like seeing you with him,” he admitted. “I hated it.”
The confession sent electricity through you.
You squinted. “So you, who fought in World War Two, thought the best way to deal with your jealousy was to hosing down a respected medical professional?”
He grinned, dimples peeking through. “I was very efficient.”
You made a noise of pure exasperation. “Oh my god.”
And then—because you were still so infuriatingly, ridiculously mad at him—you grabbed his soaking-wet shirt in both fists and yanked him down.
Bucky crashed into you with a growl, his breath hot against your lips for only half a second before he seized control, kissing you like he was starving for it.
His mouth slanted over yours, rough, greedy, tongue sweeping past your lips like he had something to prove. And maybe he did, because his hands—Christ, his hands—slid down, gripping, claiming, fingers digging into your hips as he yanked you closer.
Your whimper only made him groan deeper, the sound vibrating between your bodies as he pressed you back, caging you against the wooden fence.
His drenched shirt clung to his body, thin and wet, and when his chest pressed flush against yours, you felt everything. The hard ridges of muscle, the heat radiating off him, the faint clink of his dog tags as he moved against you, like he couldn’t decide whether to kiss you harder or pull back and wreck you with his eyes.
You curled your fingers into the soaked fabric of his shirt, trying to ground yourself, but Bucky—the bastard—just growled again, tearing his mouth away to kiss a path down your jaw, your neck, nipping at the skin like he wanted to mark you.
Your head thunked against the fence, your legs threatening to give out, and Bucky—because he was an asshole—chuckled, his lips ghosting against your throat.
“Easy, doll.” His voice was pure sin, raspy and smug and dripping with heat. “Didn’t realize you wanted me this bad.”
Your brain short-circuited. “Excuse me?”
Bucky pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and wrecked, lips kiss-swollen and wet. “You heard me.”
Oh, that was it.
Your hands shot up to his stupidly hot jaw, yanking him back into another kiss, this time making sure he was the one losing balance.
He groaned, low and deep, his grip tightening on your waist like he was debating just hauling you up against the fence and having his way with you right there.
When you finally pulled back, breathless and dazed, Bucky was still holding you like he was trying to memorize the way you felt in his arms.
His forehead rested against yours, his fingers flexing against your waist like he was trying to calm himself down before he said something stupid.
You smirked, your lips tingling.
“… You’re so gonna make me come to work and apologize, aren’t you?” His voice was still thick with want, but there was a rough amusement under it.
You grinned. “Oh, absolutely.”
× × × ×
“Come in.” A deep, intimidatingly unimpressed voice called from inside.
Bucky let out one final breath, straightened his spine like a soldier, and walked in with you trailing behind.
Dr. Harrington.
The man was sitting at his desk, reviewing charts, his expression exhausted and vaguely murderous—the exact look of a surgeon who had been woken up in the middle of the night one too many times to deal with absolute nonsense.
Dr. Harrington glanced up. His gaze landed on you first, then flicked to Bucky.
Silence.
Then—
“Oh. It’s you.”
Bucky had never wanted to disintegrate more in his life.
Dr. Harrington slowly closed his folder, leaned back in his chair, and clasped his hands over his stomach, watching Bucky the way one might watch a particularly stupid animal at the zoo.
Bucky, to his credit, put on what you were sure he thought was a professional smile but actually looked like a man trying very hard not to run.
“Dr. Harrington,” Bucky greeted with a polite nod. “It’s, uh… nice to meet you. Officially.”
The older man stared at him for two full seconds. Then he turned to you, his brow arching. “This your boyfriend?”
Your mouth opened, but—
“Yes,” Bucky immediately said. Too fast. Too eager.
Dr. Harrington exhaled slowly, like he was trying to find inner peace. “You hosed me down like a feral dog.”
Bucky cleared his throat. “Yeah, so—about that. Um.”
You nudged him hard in the ribs.
Bucky swallowed his pride. “I’m really sorry about that, sir. It was… a misunderstanding. And also…” He inhaled through his nose, like saying this next part physically hurt him. “It was very immature of me.”
You resisted the urge to clap.
Dr. Harrington drummed his fingers against the desk. “Immature.”
Bucky nodded. “Very.”
The attending hummed. “And the reasoning for this very immature behavior?”
“...Jealousy.” Bucky shifted, looking off to the side.
You squinted at him. “Speak up.”
His jaw ticked. He straightened his back and begrudgingly admitted, “I was jealous.”
Dr. Harrington blinked slowly, then glanced at you with unmistakable amusement. “Is he always this possessive?”
You opened your mouth.
Bucky, again, too fast, “Nope. Not at all. Super chill. Very normal.”
Dr. Harrington sighed, rubbing his temples. “You ruined my scrubs.”
“I’ll buy you new ones,” Bucky said instantly. “Better ones. Custom-tailored. You want your name embroidered? Done. You want gold-threaded seams? Got it. You want a diamond-encrusted scalpel? Say the word, Doc.”
The older man stared. “Are you trying to bribe me?”
Bucky took a moment to process this.
Then, with the utmost confidence, “...Is it working?”
Dr. Harrington let out a long, suffering sigh.
You pinched the bridge of your nose.
Bucky beamed like a golden retriever. “So… we’re cool?”
Dr. Harrington’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lucky your girlfriend is a damn good doctor.” He turned to you. “Your first lead surgery is still on, but if your. . . guard dog here shows up again with a hose, I will be the one hosing him down in the ER.”
Bucky gasped, clutching his chest. “Violence? In a hospital?”
“We’re leaving.” You grabbed his sleeve.
Bucky threw up a two-finger salute. “Pleasure doing business with you, Doc.”
Dr. Harrington waved a hand. “Get him out of my sight before I retract my decision.”
You dragged Bucky out the door, ignoring his smug grin.
“So,” he said as soon as you were in the hallway. “Am I officially boyfriend of the year for saving your surgical lead?”
You deadpanned, “You literally almost ruined it.”
“But I fixed it.”
You gave him the flattest look you could muster. “You bribed my boss with diamond scalpels.”
Bucky slid an arm around your waist, smirking. “I didn’t even know that was a thing.”
You groaned. “You’re the worst.”
His smirk widened. “And yet…” Bucky leaned in, voice dropping as he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You’re still gonna kiss me later,” he murmured, lips brushing your skin.
You rolled your eyes, pushing at his chest, “Go home will you?”
Bucky finally—finally—stepped back, that smug little smirk still plastered on his stupidly handsome face, “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, giving you a one last look before turning on his heel.
Then just as he reached the door, he glanced over his shoulder, voice softer now, “Oh and, good luck on your first lead.”
a.n - Just a metal armed super soldier falling for a Maximoff. Who also happens to harbour the same feelings but is too afraid to reciprocate. Why? Because she thinks she's a freak. But Bucky convinces you otherwise.
warnings - slight mention of experiments/torture & gets kind of heated at the end but nothing too extreme
It was early morning in the Avengers tower when Steve walked in, bags in hand, and a slightly awkward Bucky trailing behind.
The kitchen counter was filled with piles of pancakes that were meticulously crafted by you.
You were quite proud of your newly found gift of baking sweet treats and wanted to make breakfast for everyone. The sound of compliments filled your ears as they dug in. They hadn't even noticed the pair standing directly behind them, until Steve cleared his throat.
"Guys, you remember Bucky," Steve gestured to the stiff man next to him. Clearly not wanting to be there.
"I know his past is... questionable. But he's not brainwashed by Hydra anymore. So I want you all to be nice and help him fit in."
The room went eerily quiet and you could see everyone's reactions were mixed. You hadn't exactly been attacked by Bucky before so you thought it was only natural for you to step in first.
"So uh Bucky was it? It's nice to finally meet you, I heard great stories about you from Steve."
Bucky was taken aback as you reached out your hand for him to shake. Your smile, no your whole presence, felt warm to him. He feels his tense shoulders relaxing as he shook your hand wordlessly with a small smile.
You introduced yourself then offered him some pancakes, which you had just taken hot off the pan. He happily obliged along with Steve as the three of them sat down to eat.
There wasn't enough space at the table with the others, so you guys opted for the couch. Steve nudged Bucky's shoulder, which made him almost choke as he mentions in a low tone. "She's single, by the way."
Steve could only laugh when he saw how annoyed yet flustered his poor friend looked.
That was 3 months ago.
Bucky was slowly starting to adjust at living with the Avengers and trying his best to make friends. So far he was close with Sam and not so surprisingly, you.
He found out that you were Wanda's sister and that you had been experimented on by Hydra just like your siblings. You had the ability to manipulate any form of light and have electricity that flows through your veins. Making you a living, breathing battery.
Hydra had also used electric shock therapy to 'tweak' your powers, which drained you both emotionally and physically.
Tony and Bruce created a suit and a pair of special gloves to help you control your powers, and with time you eventually didn't need to use them anymore. You still kept the suit though and let Tony make adjustments.
Also, who knew you'd be the perfect defibrillator in case of emergencies? You were the most relied on during missions with high risks. Which everyone was grateful for.
However, you'd constantly have night terrors and a major case of insomnia. Luckily, it's begun to die down over the years. Thanks to your friends and a certain super soldier.
No, not Stever Rogers, although he's helped you in other ways. Like easing yourself around the others when you first joined.
Bucky, of all people had been keeping a close eye on you since your first interaction. At first he would carefully observe you from a distance. But after one night when you were roaming the halls of the tower, you bumped into him.
You suggested having a movie marathon together since he couldn't sleep either. Bucky asked why you couldn't sleep and you trusted him enough to tell him about your past.
From then on, you and Bucky were inseparable. Despite the confused looks from the others, and a few teases from Natasha. You two worked well together during missions so at that point, everyone found the odd relationship to be normal.
You had just finished training and was heading to your room to take a shower. Wanda was by your side since her room is next to yours as you both made your way down the hall.
"Hmm, I can feel your mind reeling you know."
You sighed, ofcourse Wanda was going through your thoughts yet again.
"You think Bucky won't like you back? He's been giving you that look of adoration whenever you're not looking. Trust me he definitely likes you."
You wanted to believe your sister, but at the same time you were unsure. Tony sent you on multiple missions with him for a few months now but you still haven't shown Bucky the full extent of your powers.
"I'm scared wanda. Scared that he might think I'm a... freak." Your shoulders slumped as a sad look appeared on your face. "He hasn't seen how I look like when my powers are maxed out."
Wanda knows what you're talking about. Whenever you do use your full power, you start to glow from within. Making your skin look thinned out, and your hair frizz up slightly from the electricity coursing through your body.
She felt hurt knowing her baby sister felt that way about herself.
"Look at me," she stops you in your tracks and places both her hands firmly on your shoulders. "You should be proud of who you are. You're beautiful and extremely powerful, and I know that Bucky will love you regardless of what you are."
Your eyes started to glaze over as Wanda pulls you into a well deserved hug, whispering sweet nothings into your hair.
Speaking of Bucky. Sam was also determined to get his best friend to confess his feelings towards you.
They were in the kitchen preparing dinner since they came back from a mission pretty late.
Bucky already started eating his meal when you walked in. Your hair was slightly damp from the shower you had just taken. Bucky recognised the top that you were wearing and almost choked on his food.
You were wearing his tshirt that he had left behind a few nights ago. He had completely forgotten about it, and to make things worse is that you look absolutely gorgeous with it on. Not to mention, your thighs were exposed since your shorts were hidden underneath the gigantic top.
"Oh uh- hey Bucky....I didnt know you were still awake," blood rushed to your cheeks when you realised Bucky was staring directly at you with wide eyes. You had no idea he'd be here, thinking that everyone else had gone to sleep already.
Bucky cleared his throat and swiped his bowl to the side. His dinner now forgotten about and directed his attention towards you. You felt like a deer caught in headlights, you were planning on giving his shirt back but you kept on delaying up until now.
"Hey uhm...h-hi, doll."
The muscles of your cheeks began to rise as you felt yourself smile at the sweet nickname that he had given you, making you feel all giddy inside. Bucky on the other hand? Felt himself swoon whenever you gave him that smile of yours.
Sam returned from the pantry with a bottle of water in his hand with a shit eating grin on his face. Giving knowing glances between the two of you.
"It's nice to see you too Samuel."
You retorted playfully as you shook your head in amusement. Already knowing that he's going to tease the absolutely living hell out of you.
"How's your day been beautiful?"
Bucky had the sudden the urge to smack that annoying smile off of his friends face. He knows he's just trying to wind him up and it was working.
But he soon settled back down when he noticed your form taking a seat right next to him.
You fought back the urge to smile again when you noticed the tips of Bucky's turning red. He looked like a puppy begging for attention. Nonetheless you turn back to Sam to answer his question.
"My days been eventful, to say the least. I mean Tony's been doing new adjustments to my suit so it could take in more volts of energy-"
Sam nodded and promted you to carry on. You spoke about the drills you had done with wanda.
Bucky had tuned out of the conversation. He rested his head in the palm of his vibranium arm as a lovesick sigh escaped his lips.
He followed the way your mouth moved while you talked and the way your hair would bounce slightly from every gesture you'd make. Seeing the way your eyes would sparkle whenever you'd talk about something you're interested in.
Bucky considered himself lucky to be in your presence and the way the light above them gave you a warm glow. He didn't even notice the conversation dying down as you and Sam turned their heads towards him.
You looked at him with concern while Sam muffled his laugh behind his hand. He saw how smitten his best friend looked which only convinced him more to get you two together.
"Buck sweets, are you ok?" Sam let out a choked laugh at the nickname. You gave him a light glare as he calmed himself down.
Your body was fully facing the now flustered Bucky, he almost flinched out of instinct when your cold hand met his burning cheeks.
"Geez Bucky you're burning up, are you feeling ok?" You started to get worried, thinking maybe he had gotten a fever.
"Mmh I'm feelin' fine though." Bucky murmured as he looked like he was going to collapse right there in your arms. Getting absolutely drunk from the attention you were giving him.
"I'd say otherwise," Sam mumbled to himself in amusement as he excused himself, knowing that he'd teased them enough already and gave them some space.
Bucky saw the way your mouth was still moving but he couldn't focus on the words that you were saying. If this was anyone else, he wouldn't even let them touch him.
But it was you. The woman that had the ability to make his heart hurt from how lovely you were. He'd never felt so much love for someone in a long time and it kind of scares him.
You were still patting his cheek, feeling the slightly rough stuble beneath your skin. You also moved stray hairs out of his face and tucked it behind his ears. He wanted to say something but no words came out.
"Maybe we should head to the med bay to get yourself checked out." You were about to get up to leave until you felt a strong grip on your arm as Bucky made you sit back down again.
"Do you not want to go?" You asked in confusion as you tilted your head.
God you were adorable, Bucky thought to himself.
His hands reached up towards your cheeks and gently caressed them with his thumb. He was impossibly close now, his nose practically touching yours. The faint scent of your shampoo and conditioner fills his nostrils.
Your peer into his deep blue eyes, his pupils were dilated but oh so full of love.
You're not sure what to do as your breath hitches in your throat.
Bucky brushes his lips against yours, testing the waters. Not knowing if you wanted this or not. Without a second thought you pressed your lips fully against his. They molded together perfectly, you don't know why you waited so long to feel this, to feel him.
But a voice at the back of your head made you pull away. Bucky noticed the way your eyes filled with worry, knowing something was bothering you.
"C'mon doll, I'm fine," his words were slurred with a heavy accent. He swipes the bottom of your lip with his thumb. "Don't be like that."
You let out a sigh that you didn't know you was keeping in. "Would you want someone like me? I mean- don't you get freaked out whenever you see me use my powers?"
"Darlin' is that the reason why you're so hesitant?" He saw you fidget uncomfortably under his gaze as he lifts your chin up with his finger so you could look at him again.
"I didn't fall for you because of your powers. I fell for you because you're you. Besides I think you look pretty badass whenever we're assigned on a mission together."
You couldn't help but smile brightly at the compliment, all your worries leaving you in an instant. He took that as a sign to continue his previous act. His metal hand reaching back to apply a gently pressure on the lower part of your back.
The kiss was gentle yet full of desire. Head tilting the side, his hot breath mingling with yours as his tongue dragged gently across your bottom lip. Coaxing you to open your mouth. Your tongue meets his as the hand that was on your cheek slips to the back of your head, his fingers gently played with the hair at your nape.
He coerced you onto his lap, not breaking the kiss while you let out a surprised gasp. He smiled against your lips at your cute reaction as he softly grazes on your bottom lip. His kisses become more heated and full of want as he tilts your head to get better access.
The rest of the world faded around you as you both got lost in time. It was beginning to get hard to breathe as he pulls you against her to deepen the kiss. You felt a butterflies deep in your stomach that you never felt before with anyone.
Bucky could taste the slight hint of strawberry on your tongue from the candy you ate just before taking a shower. This only just fueled him to ravish you even more. He nibbled softly on your bottom lip and tugged on it pulling out a quiet moan from you.
His hands were all over you and he had a hard time keeping himself under control. Giving your hips a gentle squeeze while you sat on his lap. Literally, anyone could walk in and see you two, but clearly that wasn't on their mind at the moment.
But eventually you both had to pull away for air, your cheeks were flushed but you were content. Smiling softly down at the ravenette below you. Bucky lightly nuzzled his nose against yours and both your breaths became foggy due to the cold air in the kitchen.
"So Sunshine, can I finally call you mine?"
Before you could answer you hear the sound of muffled talking in the hallway and they were headed straight towards the kitchen.
You two quickly scrambled off eachother and tried to act casual. Bucky picked at his now cold food while you rummaged through the fridge.
"Cut the act you two. We already know what happened," a teasing voice called out.
You internally groan as you turn to see Natasha with a smirk on her face with Sam having the same amused look.
"So, are you two dating now?" Nat asks while she looks between you and Bucky.
You huffed as you made your way over to Bucky, who was already standing up from his seat. You reached up and placed a firm yet soft kiss on his cheek.
A bright faced Bucky and a shocked Natasha and Sam could only stare in disbelief at the bold action. Which only made the situation more funny.
"I guess we are," you respond with a doting smile as Bucky shared the same look he'd always have.
Lovesick.
p.s - Bucky also had to hear an earful from Wanda. He's going to have to get used to having her as a sister in law because he plans on marrying you one day.
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High on meds Bucky who keeps howling about how you put bee bum juice in his tea.
"Bucky, it's just honey-
"BEE. BUM. JUICE"
You arched a brow at the prominent pout that stayed plastered on Bucky's face as he sat swaddled in a blanket on the couch with his arms crossed against his chest.
"You always like honey in your tea Buck, it's good for you, it'll help your sore throat-
"She's putting bee bum juice in my tea!" Bucky shrieked as Steve walked by, refusing to take a sip of what you'd made for him countless times before.
"Bee bum juice...?" Steve's face scrunched while his best friend huffed, still deeply offended at the tea spoon of sweetness you stirred into his drink.
"Honey. I put honey in his tea" You said in exasperation, "He's on antibiotics for a sore throat. Of all things to take him down, this-" You motined to the bundle of blankets containing 1 super soldier inside, "this is what does it"
"Here, let me try" Steve took the cup from you and sat beside Bucky, putting it on the table when Bucky shuffled away from him, wracking his brain over what he could eat or drink in his current state.
warnings: lots of pining, eventual fluff, fake dating
notes: had to try my hand at the fake dating trope
summary: you pretend to be Bucky’s girlfriend in order to help his campaign despite your very real feelings for him
“You want me to what?”
Sam can’t hold back his laughter when you look at Bucky like he’s grown a second head after processing the question he has asked you. The man in question stands there with an unamused scowl and a growing sense of embarrassment while waiting for his friend to regain his composure.
“Are you finished?” He snarks sharply, grunting in annoyance when Sam heartily claps his back in his response.
“I’m good, I’m good,” he breathes after wiping away a tear, “go ahead and ask her again.”
“I need you to pretend to be in a relationship with me,” Bucky mutters while refusing to meet your gaze, wishing the floor of your home would simply open up and swallow him whole so that he’d be saved from the humiliation.
“You realize that’s a crazy thing to ask, right?” You retort from your place behind the kitchen island. When you invited the two men over for dinner you hadn’t anticipated being ambushed like this, and you were starting to regret ever getting yourself mixed up with the two heroes.
“I know it is, but Valentina says if I want votes I need to make myself more relatable. Some people still have a hard time separating me from the Winter Soldier, but if they can see me as a normal man with a loving partner they might change their minds.”
“And why can’t Sam be the loving partner?” You rebuff, prompting him to immediately raise his hands in protest.
“Nuh uh, baby. Are you forgetting I’m Captain America? I’m too busy to be playing house with Mr. Congeniality over here.”
“Y/n, you’re the only person that can do this,” Bucky insists, eyes pleading for you to understand, “it would be more believable if it was you since we’re already close.”
“Maybe too damn close,” Sam murmurs under his breath, but both you and Bucky choose to ignore his comment.
“I don’t know,” you drawl, still a bit hesitant to put yourself through a fake relationship, “it feels a bit scummy lying to voters like that.”
“Politicians lie all the time,” Bucky tries to justify, but it’s not very effective in convincing you. “Look, this is something that’s important for me to do, and I will owe you for the rest of my life if you help me. It will only be until the votes are in, and then we can go back to normal.”
Sighing, you let your hands fall onto the counter and gaze thoughtfully at the marble surface as you weigh your options. It really couldn’t be that bad, could it? You’re already fond of Bucky as a friend, so it wouldn’t be so hard to pretend to be in love with him for a few months. What was the harm?
You look up and meet his expectant gaze, and it’s hard not to say yes when the desperation is clear in his eyes. Bucky has always been good at getting you to fold, and this time is no different.
“Alright, I’ll do it,” you finally say, and the grin that spreads across his face almost feels rewarding. He immediately pulls you into his arms for a bone crushing hug and thanks you profusely, but his gratitude falls on deaf ears as you make eye contact with Sam over his shoulder.
The man says nothing, but he doesn’t have to when the mischievous smile on his face speaks for itself. You’ve gotten yourself into deep shit and he knows it.
You just hope you can keep up the facade without revealing how you truly feel.
~~~
Your arrangement with Bucky is simple.
While in public you are to act as in love with him as possible. You hold hands, share innocent pecks, look adoringly into each other’s eyes, and act as if your relationship isn’t a complete sham. When telling stories about each other you make sure to include some bits of truth to make it more believable and easier to remember when prompted. Your arrangement also includes public appearances to important social events, and that’s how you find yourself in your current predicament.
You wouldn’t consider yourself the most extroverted person out there, so you felt extremely out of your element as you donned the nicest dress you owned and accompanied Bucky to a cocktail party hosted by the local mayor. All eyes had been on you the moment you’d walked through the door on his metal arm, and you weren’t sure if you could handle getting this type of attention. This was only your first public appearance as his girlfriend and already were you starting to feel the pressure.
“You doing okay?” Bucky murmurs into your ear before flashing a smile to nearby onlookers.
“I’m starting to regret agreeing to this,” you answer honestly, prompting a genuine chuckle to leave his lips.
“Trust me, it gets easier being in the spotlight after a while.”
You sincerely doubt that, but you don’t get a chance to argue as you’re immediately swarmed by a group of journalists eager to get their questions answered. The lights of their cameras are blinding, and you feel like you’ve been tossed into the lion’s den as they immediately bombard you both with questions.
“Mr. Barnes, is it true you’re running for a position in congress?”
“It is,” he affirms with an easy smile before reciting the practiced lines Valentina had vehemently rehearsed with him. “I have great hopes for this election.”
“Mr. Barnes, may I ask who you have with you tonight?”
“This beautiful woman is my wonderful girlfriend,” Bucky replies while simultaneously pulling you closer to his side. “Y/n has been nothing but supportive of my campaign, and it’s with her support that I’ve found the courage to run.”
“Do you have anything to say to those who doubt Mr. Barnes’s capability to serve in congress?” A woman asks before shoving a microphone in your face. You freeze like a deer caught in headlights as all the focus turns to you, and it takes you a moment to compose yourself before finally willing yourself to answer.
“I think…” you start off with a nervous smile, mind racing as you struggle to come up with the perfect response. Bucky shoots you a subtle look, reminding you of what he’d advised you in the car before you’d arrived. ‘Just be honest.’ “I know that my James is a good man, a strong man who cares deeply for those around him. The American people can put their faith in someone like Bucky because despite all that he has been through, he has never once given up on himself or the people that love him. I have no doubt in my mind that Bucky could help our government for the better.”
More questions are thrown your way that you are happy to answer, but this causes you to miss the clear adoration in Bucky’s eyes as he watches you carry yourself so eloquently in front of all these people. You meant every single word you said, and so had he.
Unbeknownst to either of you, the lines between reality and fiction were already starting to blur when it came to your make believe relationship.
~~~
“So how did you two meet?”
You’re taking part in yet another press junket arranged by Valentina to help the public see Bucky’s humility and make your relationship seem more genuine. This is your third interview of the day, and all you want is to go home so you can put on your coziest pajamas and enjoy a pizza from the comfort of your couch. Public appearances are draining, but Bucky promises you that after this week you won’t be expected to appear on camera as frequently. You’re holding him to that promise because otherwise you might lose your sanity, and Bucky knows how scary you can be when provoked.
“Well, after the Thanos situation had ended and the dust settled, I moved into a new apartment for a fresh start,” Bucky explains truthfully before turning to you with a tender smile. “What I didn’t expect after moving in was to have the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen standing at my door with a plate of cookies to welcome me into the building. I think I thought about her smile for an entire week before finally working up the courage to thank her and invite her over for dinner.”
Though the story Bucky relays to the cameras is mostly true, you’re honestly stunned by the way he chooses to describe you. He must be really desperate for viewers to believe he’s a man in love with the way he speaks as if Cupid’s arrow had struck him the day you two met. You find yourself shifting almost nervously in your seat listening to him talk about how wonderful you are, and you can almost feel your heart trying to escape your ribcage. You know he means none of this, so why does your stomach flip every time he mentions how beautiful you are or how enamored he is with you?
“Would you say your experience was similar?” The interviewer asks, and it takes you a moment to realize they’re talking to you now. You dotingly place a hand on Bucky’s knee then gaze into his eyes with nothing but love and are surprised to see him already looking at you that way.
“From the moment I first introduced myself to James I knew he was different from anyone I’d ever met before. I think I was taken by his eyes when I first saw him, and I still sometimes find myself admiring them when I think he’s not paying attention.”
Though he doesn’t know it, your words are completely true. You could spend hours staring into his eyes and admiring the way they light up when he laughs or smiles. You have it bad for Bucky, really bad, and yet you’ve kept it to yourself throughout the course of your friendship. Despite Sam’s insistence to tell him the truth, you just can’t bring yourself to do it. You love him too much to risk losing his friendship, so you’d made peace with the fact that you’d never be more than just a companion a long time ago. You thought you could survive being his fake girlfriend, but with each day that passes it gets harder and harder not to fall into the fantasy.
“You doing okay?” He asks you after the night is over and you’re free to be yourself in the safety of his car. You’d been quiet ever since leaving the press junket, and Bucky knew you well enough to detect when your mind was becoming overrun.
“I think I’m just tired,” you answer truthfully, “it’s hard to keep up the facade sometimes.”
“I get what you mean,” he chuckles, prompting you to frown. You don’t think he does get what you mean or understand how suffocating it is to act as if your adoration and affection are just for show. “We just have one more event to attend and then we can go back to being friends.”
“Bucky?”
“Yeah, doll?”
You swallow nervously, opening your mouth only to shut it as you hold back the words you desperately wish to say. You don’t want to complicate things and ruin all of his hard work, it would be selfish of you to muck it up now when he’s so close to the finish line. So instead, you look to him with a halfhearted smile and suggest, “You want to pick up a pizza on the way home?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
~~~
You’re grateful for the fact that the last public event on your itinerary is a birthday party for your very own Captain America. All of the focus is on Sam, and the political journalists are much more interested in his relationship with Bucky than yours. You can breathe without having to worry about being perceived or disturbed, and you don’t mind being old news in the slightest.
Sam finds you outside the banquet hall in the garden gazebo staring contemplatively at the sky a few hours into the party, and he joins you with glasses of champagne in hand.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he notes with a kind smile before handing you your glass. “I’ve been dying to have a real human conversation all night, but these reporters are relentless.”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” you joke thoughtfully before taking a sip of the drink. You don’t particularly like champagne, but you appreciate the way the alcohol helps settle your nerves.
“You doing okay?” Sam prompts, genuine concern etched on his features. You know what he’s getting at, and you know he’s aware of just how hard this has all been on you. Sam had been able to shake you down into confessing your feelings for Bucky two years ago after noting your jealousy over the fact that he’d been on a date. He teased you relentlessly for having a crush on the Winter Soldier, but it was all in good faith. Sam had always rooted for you two, but neither of you seemed capable of ever making a move. It was exhausting to watch his two closest friends blindly pine after one another, but he knew better than to intervene and instead chose to be a supportive shoulder for you to lean on.
“After today I’m back to being just a friend,” you state with a wry smile, “and it’s back to square one.”
“You know it would be easier to just tell him how you feel instead of torturing yourself, right?”
“I know,” you sigh pathetically, swirling the remaining champagne around in your glass.
“So why don’t you? I know you never believe me when I say this, but I know for a fact he feels the same way about you. You’re both just too scared of rejection to admit it so you never even try to make a move.”
“I’m not a hero or a politician, and I don’t belong in your world. It’s by pure chance I ended up becoming part of your little team, so I don’t think I’m what Bucky needs.”
“Come on, y/n/n, give yourself a little credit,” Sam comforts while gently nudging your side with his elbow. “You’re an amazing woman with a big heart, and while Bucky may be stupid, he’s definitely not stupid enough to be blind to the fact.”
Laughing softly at Sam’s ability to seamlessly slide in an insult at Bucky’s expense, you nudge him back and say, “Thanks, Sam. You always know just what to say.”
“Trying to steal my girl, Wilson?” A third voice interjects, both of you turning to see Bucky approaching the gazebo with an amused smile.
“Not this time, Barnes,” Sam shoots back playfully before giving you a quick squeeze to his side. “I’ll leave you two alone, but be back inside within the next half hour for cake.”
“You got it, Cap,” you affirm with a salute while Bucky takes his place beside you.
“You ran off on me,” he points out in mock hurt.
“Well, I didn’t want to interrupt the love fest you and Sam were putting on for the reporters,” you jest only for Bucky to roll his eyes.
“You’re hilarious.”
You smile and return your gaze back to the garden, enjoying the silence and the comfort Bucky’s presence brings you. Despite the aching longing that settles in the pit of your stomach every time you’re around him, you appreciate his company. You’d stay his platonic friend forever if it meant always getting to keep him close like this without the risk of losing him.
“You look beautiful,” he says suddenly to break the silence, prompting you to look at him surprise.
“Thanks, but… you know you don’t have to say stuff like that when the cameras aren’t around.”
“I know,” Bucky reiterates softly while taking your hand in his own, “and I don’t need them around to tell you that.”
Your stomach does a flip, but you ignore the racing of your heart and let out a quiet laugh before asking him if he’s had too much to drink. His smile drops for a moment as he falters, but you watch with piqued interest when he lets out a quiet sigh and shifts so that the space between you lessens.
“I haven’t been honest with you,” he says with a repentant frown, looking down at your intertwined hands contemplatively. You swallow nervously and are unsure of where this conversation could be heading, but it seems like it’s serious.
“What is it, Bucky?”
“I didn’t ask you to be my fake girlfriend because it would be easier to pretend with you. I asked because… well, I knew that I wouldn’t have to convince everyone of something that was already true.”
The air feels like it’s buzzing around you while you process his words; you almost can’t believe what you’re hearing, and a part of you is convinced that maybe you’re just misunderstanding him, but the look of complete love and yearning on his face only solidifies the truth in his words.
“So you’re saying you mean it when you tell those reporters that you love me?” You utter in quiet surprise, eyes sparkling under the moonlight when you meet his gaze. “And that I’m the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen?”
“Every single word,” he murmurs softly, metal hand coming to rest on your cheek. “I have loved every minute of being your boyfriend, and I don’t want that to end after my campaign is up. I want us to be the real deal, sweetheart.”
You bite your lip to hold back a giddy smile and nearly melt into his touch when he brings your face closer to his own so that your noses brush together. He hesitates for only a moment before finally closing the space between you both and kissing you sweetly. Your arms find their way around his neck as he pulls you impossibly close against him and encapsulates you in his warmth. Underneath the moonlight in the garden gazebo, you and Bucky share your first real kiss.
You feel dazed when you finally break apart, your heart beating a mile a minute and only increasing when Bucky flashes you a grin.
“I’ve wanted to do that for ages,” he confesses earnestly before stealing another kiss. “I’m sorry it took me this long to finally tell you.”
“I would have waited forever,” you admit sheepishly, effectively outing yourself as a lovesick fool. You allow yourself to rest your head upon his chest while his arms move to wrap around your figure and encase you against him. The music from inside quietly drifts into the garden, and you hum in contentment as Bucky slowly sways you back and forth.
You know if you don’t move now you’ll miss the cake, but there isn’t a single ounce of your spirit that wishes to leave from this spot. Bucky is finally yours, and you can finally be honest about your feelings with the man you’ve been hopelessly in love with for years.
It seems your only worry now will be having to explain to Sam why you missed his cake cutting.
Paring: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Fem! Reader
Summary: On Valentine’s Day, your training session with Bucky is no different. He’s tough on you, but you appreciate his guidance. However, a little interruption leads to a sweet surprise later that evening. Based on this request!
Word Count: Roughly 1.6k
Warnings: Fluff, teasing, slight angst (so slight that it’s barely there), awkwardness, unspoken feelings, the reader's anxious thoughts, protective Bucky, training (it wasn’t that great, but I wanted to write it for some cute tension), comical violence, playful chaos (it’s the Avengers after all)
Author’s Note: Thank you for the request. I tweaked it a little bit in the hopes of making it sweet and funny. @jackys-stuff-blog
I’m back, so enjoy more Valentine’s Day content :)
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Divider by: @strangergraphics
The hum of the facility was peaceful, but the energy bouncing around inside you was anything but.
When you got out of bed, you glanced at the calendar.
February 14th
You sighed and got ready to start your day.
You were still new to the team, only a few weeks into training with the Avengers.
It was a potent mixture of excitement, fear, and joy wrapped in one.
You gave it your best shot, but every day, you felt like you fell just short of the bar set by the seasoned heroes around you.
The Avengers were the best of the best, and sometimes it felt like they were trying to break you, push you past your limits, and then push some more.
Bucky Barnes, in particular, was harder on you than anyone else.
He didn’t want to admit it, but he cared. Not just because you were younger but because you were different.
Sweet, shy, a little sunshine in a place that sometimes felt too dark.
You didn’t mind so much. You didn’t want to be perfect, but you wanted to prove to the team, especially Bucky, that you could hold your own.
But training with Bucky means it’s going to be a long morning.
“Come on, kid,” Bucky said, his eyes locked on yours after you finished his warmups, which felt more like the entirety of a workout routine. “You can do better than that.”
“I am trying,” you said with a huff.
You felt the weight of his gaze and had to resist the urge to fidget under it. His words made you feel small. You wanted to prove yourself to him. You wanted him to believe you could hold your own.
His lips twitched in a small, teasing smile. “You’ve gotta do better than that if you want to make it out there with the rest of us.”
You nodded and shifted your stance.
When his hand shot out to grab you, you reacted, trying to block, but he was faster. Bucky spun you around, twisting your arm behind your back.
You grunted as you found your back pressed against his chest, his body flush against yours, his grip tightening around your wrist.
“Gotcha,” he murmured, his breath warm against your neck.
“I… I wasn’t ready,” you stammered, embarrassed as you struggled to break free, but Bucky only chuckled.
“You never are,” he teased, his voice laced with amusement, “But you will be soon. Don’t worry, sunshine. I’ve got you.”
The warmth of his words seemed to melt the tension in your chest, but your heart still hammered in your ears, the proximity between you two making it hard to think straight.
With a swift, practiced move, Bucky released you from his grip and pushed you lightly away. You stumbled back a few steps, regaining your footing.
He was already readying himself for the next move, his steely blue eyes sharp again.
“Again,” he commanded, his voice firm but not unkind.
You nodded, trying to shake off the lingering heat from his touch, but it was impossible to ignore. You lunged at him, trying to catch him off guard.
He moved effortlessly, dodging your lunge. His flipped you flat on your back, and before you could react, Bucky was there, pinning you to the mat, his metal arm hovering over your chest.
He leaned down slightly, his face hovering just above yours. “You really need to work on your form,” he muttered.
You swallowed hard, heat flooding your cheeks. You could feel every inch of him above you.
“Not bad for someone like you,” Bucky said, his voice low, a hint of pride in his words. “But next time, try not to get flipped so easily.”
You chuckled nervously, still breathless beneath him. “Yeah… I’ll try,” you whispered, your voice softer than you intended.
There was a strange kind of intimacy in the air, as the world had quieted around you. Your eyes locked for a heartbeat longer than necessary.
But before either of you could say anything, a voice from the doorway broke the moment.
“Am I interrupting something?” Wanda asked as she strolled into the room, watching the two of you with a knowing smile.
You scrambled to sit up, feeling the awkward tension in the air as Bucky stood and offered you a hand, which you gratefully accepted.
“We were just about to finish this sparring session,” Bucky muttered.
“Oh, a sparring session, huh?” Wanda smile. “I didn’t realize they was that intense.” She turned her gaze to you, the corners of her lips curling into a grin. “So, any plans after this? Maybe a last-minute date? There are a lot of nice places around here, you know.”
You shook your head, slightly flustered. “I’m just going to stay in tonight,” you said softly. “Maybe watch a movie.”
“Stay in?” Wanda’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “It’s Valentine’s day. How about a date with a guy your age, maybe?” She flashed Bucky a pointed, subtle look, just enough to make the air shift. “I could set up something.”
You didn’t catch it, but Bucky’s expression darkened almost instantly. He stepped forward, his jaw tightening, and shot Wanda a sharp look. “No, she said she’s not interested in a date. And you need to stop trying to push that on her.”
Wanda raised both hands, feigning innocence. “Alright, alright. Just trying to make sure the poor girl doesn’t miss out on anything.”
She turned and walked out of the room, but not before sending Bucky a lingering glance that left him looking slightly annoyed.
You, on the other hand, were oblivious to the exchange. You simply smiled at Bucky, trying to shake off the odd tension in the room.
“I’m sorry…” You trailed off, unsure of how to finish the thought.
Bucky sighed, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. “It’s not your fault.”
“I-,” you started softly, though you were unsure what had just happened. But before you could dwell on it, Bucky clapped you on the shoulder.
“You’re fine, sunshine.” Bucky smiled. “Let’s get back to it.”
The warmth of his words lingered in the air long after Wanda left, and you found yourself wishing that the conversation had gone a little differently. But it was hard to focus on that when Bucky’s quiet reassurance made you feel special in a way you hadn’t expected.
Later that evening, fresh out of a long, soothing shower and wrapped in pajamas, you were met with quiet as you made your way downstairs.
For the most part, everyone was out celebrating the holiday of love. But your plans included stuffing your face and watching comedies on the giant flat-screen TV.
Your plans stopped when you found Peter sprawled out on the couch, grinning from ear to ear. He was holding up a large box.
"Hey! Got a delivery for you!" Peter announced, his voice practically singing.
You raised an eyebrow. “What’s this?”
He gave you a mischievous smirk. “Dunno, but it’s got your name on it.”
Taking the box from his hands, you carefully opened it.
Inside was a beautiful bouquet of wild daisies, lavender, and sunflowers, as well as a massive box of chocolates, wrapped with a level of neatness that had to be intentional.
There was a card that said, “Hope this makes your day a little sweeter, sunshine.” No name, but you had a very good idea of who it was from.
Before you could even process it, a voice came from behind you.
“You look surprised.” Bucky’s voice cut through the silence.
Turning around, you found him standing in the doorway.
“I didn’t…” you started, but your words trailed off.
The fact that he had gone to all this trouble for you meant something, didn’t it?
Bucky closed the space between you with a few long strides, and before you could think of anything else, he wrapped you in a hug, pulling you close to his chest. “You deserve it,” he murmured, kissing your forehead softly. His voice was warm, like melted chocolate, making your heart swell.
Bucky gently pulled back, a soft smile tugging at his lips.
“Let’s watch a movie, yeah?” Bucky asked, his voice smooth, like he knew he was about to make everything even better.
You nodded, still reeling from the sweet surprise. The day had been a chaotic mess of training and tension, but Bucky's thoughtful gesture made it feel like it was all worth it.
As you settled onto the couch, Bucky’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you melted against his side.
The movie began, but honestly, you weren’t even paying attention. All you could focus on was how perfect this was until Peter suddenly released an exaggerated “Ahem!” trying to get a peek at what was happening between you two.
Before you could even laugh, Bucky, without missing a beat, grabbed a vase off the table and threw it straight at Peter’s head.
Not to inflict too much bodily injury, but definitely enough to scatter him like a cockroach when the lights come on.
Peter’s spidey sense kicked in just in time, and he shot a web to the ceiling, narrowly avoiding the vase. “Okay, okay! I get it! I’m clearly not wanted! I’m going!” He scrambled upstairs.
You let out a soft laugh, and Bucky grumbled under his breath, but there was a slight curve to his lips as he glanced at you. His arm pulled you even closer, and just like that, everything was perfect again.
Except for the vase, but that was just a minor detail.
“WHO BROKE MY FAVORITE VASE?”
Or, not so minor.
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!
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Summary: You’ve been running missions with Sam and Bucky for a while now, and everything was fine—until John Walker started showing up and taking an interest in you. Bucky isn’t having it. Not because he’s jealous. Definitely not because he’s jealous. He just doesn’t trust Walker. Right?
Unwanted Attention
You weren’t sure how long you’d been walking, but you knew Bucky was beside you—silent, brooding, and absolutely vibrating with tension.
Again.
It had started a week ago. After the whole Flag Smashers fiasco in Munich, John Walker and his annoying sidekick, Lemar, had started appearing more often. They were always just there, cocky and insufferable, flashing that stolen shield like they had any right to it. But that wasn’t what had been bothering Bucky the most.
It was Walker’s interest in you.
Ever since you’d first been introduced, Walker had made it painfully obvious that he found you attractive. The first time, it was a comment—something about how you were “too pretty to be running around with these two grumps.” You’d rolled your eyes, but Sam had snickered, and Bucky had muttered something under his breath that you hadn’t quite caught.
Then, it became touches—a hand on your lower back, a brush of fingers against yours when he handed you something, a lingering grip on your wrist after a mission. It was all casual enough that you couldn’t really call him out on it, but you weren’t an idiot. Walker was testing boundaries. And every time, Bucky got pissed.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
At first, you thought it was just his general hatred for Walker. But then you noticed other things.
Bucky started standing closer. His arm would “accidentally” brush against yours when you were walking. He’d place a firm hand on your back before Walker could, guiding you away without a word. And, most notably, whenever Walker so much as looked at you, Bucky’s jaw would tighten, his fists clenching like he was barely keeping himself from decking the guy.
Which led to this moment right now.
You, Bucky, and Sam were walking back to the safe house after a tense meeting with Walker and Lemar—one in which Walker had, yet again, spent way too much time trying to get your attention.
“You don’t have to act like I’m gonna drop dead if he talks to me, you know,” you said finally, breaking the silence.
Bucky didn’t look at you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on.” You stopped walking, turning to face him. “Every time Walker so much as breathes in my direction, you look like you’re about to rip his throat out.”
Bucky scoffed, looking away. “I just don’t trust him.”
Sam, who had been trailing a few steps behind, smirked. “Right. That’s what this is about.”
Bucky shot him a glare, but Sam just shrugged.
“Man, you’re jealous,” Sam said. “It’s written all over your grumpy little face.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“You’re so jealous.”
“I—” Bucky cut himself off, taking a deep breath like he was trying to calm himself. “He’s an asshole.”
“No arguments there,” you said. “But if you don’t like him flirting with me, there’s a pretty easy solution, Barnes.”
Bucky’s eyes flicked to yours. “Yeah?”
You smiled innocently. “You could just tell me why it really bothers you.”
For a moment, he just stared at you, blue eyes dark and unreadable. Then, with a sharp shake of his head, he muttered, “Let’s go,” and kept walking.
Sam sighed. “Man, you are hopeless.”
You didn’t disagree.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
A Game of Possession
The next time you saw Walker, things escalated.
It was supposed to be a simple recon mission—stakeout, gather intel, get out. But, as always, Walker found a way to insert himself where he wasn’t wanted.
“You know,” Walker said, sidling up beside you, “we’d work a lot better together if you ditched these two and joined Lemar and me.”
Bucky, who was standing just a few feet away, tensed immediately.
You sighed. “Not interested.”
“Come on,” Walker pressed, flashing that annoyingly charming smile. “I’d take good care of you.”
Before you could retort, a heavy, warm weight settled around your waist.
Bucky.
His metal arm wrapped around you in an unmistakably possessive gesture, tugging you snugly against his side. His fingers splayed against your hip, and when he spoke, his voice was low and dangerous.
“She’s already taken care of.”
The air went thick with tension. Walker’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before he recovered.
“Oh yeah?” he challenged. “By who?”
Bucky’s grip tightened. “Me.”
Your heart stopped.
Walker raised an eyebrow. “Huh. Didn’t peg you for the type to settle down, Barnes.”
Bucky’s jaw clenched. “Maybe you don’t know as much as you think you do.”
Walker let his gaze linger on you for a beat too long before smirking. “Alright, alright. No need to get your vibranium arm in a twist.”
And with that, he strolled off.
Bucky didn’t move. Neither did you.
Finally, you found your voice. “So. That was… something.”
Bucky let out a breath through his nose. Slowly, his hand eased away, though his fingers brushed lightly against your side before leaving entirely. “Sorry.”
You turned to look at him. “Are you?”
He hesitated. Then, in a rare moment of honesty, he admitted, “No.”
You bit your lip, heartbeat unsteady. “So… am I actually taken?”
Bucky exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “Do you want to be?”
You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you stepped forward, closing the space he’d left between you.
“I wouldn’t mind,” you murmured.
Bucky swallowed hard. His eyes flickered to your lips. His fingers twitched at his side like he wanted to touch you again.
Before either of you could do anything about it, Sam’s voice rang out from across the way.
“Hey, lovebirds! We’ve got work to do!”
You pulled back, trying not to grin. Bucky just sighed.
“This is your fault,” he muttered.
You smirked. “If you say so, boyfriend.”
Bucky groaned, but the tips of his ears burned red. And you had a feeling that, jealous or not, he wasn’t going to let the title go.
Summary: It's a beautiful day that turns even more beautiful when you run into the most handsome man you've ever seen...and the grumpiest. Will his good looks be enough for you to stick around and get to know him?
Author's Note: I love a grumpy!Bucky and a reader who just won't give up on him! Kind of sunshine/grumpy trope with enemies/lovers mixed in a little too. This was fun to write and I hope you enjoy! Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy 🥰
Warnings: fun, flirty tension, a tiny bit of angst, grumpy!bucky, fluffy sweetness too
Waiting in line at your favorite coffee shop is always worth it and today, after a restless night, you really need the extra boost. Even though you’re behind schedule the stop is a necessity and despite the busy morning rush the line is moving quickly but apparently not fast enough for the person behind you who lets out a loud and frustrated huff.
Trying to be discrete you turn and look out of the corner of your eye.
The sight of him strikes you in a way you’re not prepared for.
Then the barista calls your name. You blink, dazed but thankfully able to recover well enough to give the barista a warm smile and thanks.
As you grab your napkins and gather your things you can’t help but steal glances at the man. He’s tall and broad shouldered, wearing a leather jacket that shows his biceps shaping the fabric, his long legs are clad in well fitted dark denim, and he’s the perfect mix of masculinity and male beauty.
His brooding expression doesn’t falter as he retrieves his drink order, but he does say ‘thank you’ and to your continued surprise, ‘excuse me,’ to whomever he passes.
With one last longing glance you head for the door, walking out into the sunshine and crossing the street to your favorite bench to enjoy your coffee before work.
You’re focused on your phone while you sip slowly so at first you don’t notice the dark shadow looming over you. But the rumbly and gruff voice startles you.
“You’re in my seat.”
You look up, shielding your eyes from the sun to see nothing more than a large shadow.
“What?” you ask, feeling discombobulated.
The shadow shifts and your eyes widen when you see the man from the coffee shop, his glower ferocious despite your now big smile.
“This is your seat?...It’s a whole bench.”
“Yeah…well.”
You look at the open space next to you and offer out a hand. “There’s more than enough room for both of us.”
His eyes narrow but he sits.
“I’ve never seen you here before,” you say brightly.
“I’m here almost every day,” he answers.
You keep your smile in place.
“Well, I’m running late so that must be why I haven’t seen you before.”
“Then why are you sitting on this bench talking to me?” he asks.
You bristle inwardly but your smile doesn’t falter.
“I still have time. I usually get in early, so it won’t be a problem.”
He stares at you, the breeze catching his scent and blowing it your way.
You try not to inhale, focusing on the fact that he’s super grumpy instead of the fact that he’s super hot and smells really good.
“I enjoy sitting out in the sunshine. It helps me feel grounded before I really start the day.”
The words tumble out unprompted but under his narrowed gaze you find yourself feeling less confident than usual.
He just “hmphs” in response and looks away, taking a sip of his drink.
“You say you sit here every day so what’s with all the…” and you motion to him, “grumpy? Is the sunshine not good enough for you?”
He turns your way again, lips pressed together but his eyes flaring with surprise. Before he can respond his phone rings. He looks at the screen with another mild puff of air then swipes his thumb over it.
“Wilson,” he says gruffly.
His voice drops low, and you look down at your phone, trying not to listen. Most of the conversation on his part is a series of grunts and mumbled responses so it’s hard to follow anyway.
After hanging up he stands abruptly and looks down at you, his gaze lingering before he gives you a barely perceptible nod of acknowledgement and starts to walk off.
You yell after him, “I hope you find some sunshine!”
He doesn’t turn around but you’re sure you see his steps falter for just a second.
It’s only after you finish your drink that you stand and start the short walk to work, surprised to catch sight of the grumpy stranger across the street at the local VA, squatting down in front of an older man with a dog.
The grumpiness is gone, replaced by a warm smile that crinkles his eyes. All the air goes out of your lungs.
He looks up at that moment, noticing you stopped in the middle of the sidewalk across the street. His smile fades and you drop your head, speed walking away.
It’s Saturday morning and you’re standing outside the bakery, texting your friend to get their donut order. The door opens and you barely have time to register the whiff of familiar scent that floats by you when you look up and lock eyes with Mr. Grumpy himself.
You smile in greeting.
“You,” he answers.
Your grin widens. “Me. What are the chances? Your favorite bench stealer!”
He sighs heavily and glances back at the door to the bakery before pinning you with his stare again.
Now that the sun isn’t shining in your eyes you have a better chance to see the color of his. They’re blue. A gorgeous ocean colored blue framed by long, dark, and thick lashes.
His attention strays down your body and you feel tingles everywhere his eyes touch.
“Here for something sweet?” you ask.
He never gets the chance to answer because a man comes up behind him and grabs his shoulder, giving him a slight shove to move in front and say hi.
“Barnes! Aren’t you going to introduce me to your beautiful friend here?”
You smile warmly.
“Sam. Sam Wilson,” the friend says in introduction.
“Hi Sam!” you greet and give him your name.
“Barnes didn’t tell me he made a new friend,” Sam says.
“Barnes?” you repeat.
You direct your question to Mr. Grumpy whose been standing there silently murdering Sam with his eyes since he appeared.
Sam smiles triumphantly. “This here is James, but his friends call him Bucky.”
“Hi Bucky. Nice to officially meet you!”
Your tone is light and airy, and you wave.
“Hey,” Bucky answers, then turns to Sam. “Let’s go, the guys are looking forward to these donuts.”
“Is he always this grumpy?” you ask Sam.
Silence falls between you all, but it only lasts a moment, broken then by Sam’s loud cackle.
“Oh, I like her already!” Sam says.
Ignoring your comment-and Sam’s-Bucky repeats, “let’s go Wilson!”
Sam returns the favor, ignoring Bucky and focusing on you. “You should come down and visit us at the VA sometime. He’s never grumpy around the guys.”
“So just me then?” you ask with a laugh.
“That’s just because he thinks you’re beautiful,” Sam winks.
You steal a glance at Bucky and note the slight pink color that paints his cheeks.
“It was nice meeting you Sam. And you too Bucky.”
With those last words and a smile, you skirt past them and walk into the bakery. After placing your order you’re shocked to find Bucky standing at the pickup counter, hands in his pockets and shuffling on his feet.
“Miss me already?” you tease.
He doesn’t answer and instead hands you a business card. You take it and look down, reading the information for the VA and Bucky’s name.
“Thanks,” you say, meeting his eyes again and noting the pink still coating his cheeks.
He doesn’t answer but you think you see his lips lift into what might be a small smile before he casually strolls off.
His jeans are molded perfectly to his perfect ass, and you sigh.
“Are you going to go visit him?” Diana asks through a mouthful of donut.
“Nah,” you answer.
Diana’s eyes bug out of her head with a gasp.
“Um you said he was insanely hot. I don’t’ get it. You don’t NOT go visit.”
“You do if he’s a grumpy jerk.”
Diana laughs. “Maybe he needs to eat more of these donuts!”
You roll your eyes. “He had a whole box of them. He was with his friend Sam who was also hot. I should go visit him.”
“Ohhh make Mr. Grumpy jealous. I like it.”
You shove the card into your bag and grab a donut.
“I think we need more donuts for this day,” you retort.
After a long donut filled debate with Diana you decide to make the call to the VA office. To your happy surprise Sam answers.
“Hi Sam,” you say and tell him your name, thrilled he remembers you.
“I was just thinking I’d like to bring some treats down to the office this week. Is there anything in particular I should get?”
You can practically hear Sam’s smile through the phone. He rattles off some orders and then tells you the days and times that would work. When you hang up you feel lighter just knowing you could do something kind.
You’ve never been in the VA building before even though you’ve passed by it many times. The interior is warm and inviting and has a large walnut desk and matching benches nearby.
At the sight of the benches, you laugh to yourself, wondering if Bucky claimed these seats too.
“Hey.”
You barely catch the quiet greeting but look up to see Bucky standing by a doorway. You suddenly feel hyperalert, every inch of your sensitive tingling and awake. You almost forgot how gorgeous he is, his light blue henley fitted around his broad chest and his dark jeans showing off those long and muscular legs.
Your heart flutters as he crosses the hallway, hard expression on his face, before he stares down at the box of donuts.
“You can’t eat them all!”
He gives you a quelling look, though you’re sure you catch a hint of amusement in his eyes.
“I can actually,” he says in a matter-of-fact tone, “but when I’m here I share.”
“What if I want one?” you ask, feeling brave and maybe a little flirtatious.
It takes him a moment to answer as he holds you under his keen regard, sweeping his gaze down your body before it lingers on your lips and finally returns to your eyes.
“Maybe,” he grumbles, then turns on his heel. “Follow me.”
You enter a room with tables and chairs set up and one long counter and cabinets in the back where you see a coffee machine, refrigerator, and small microwave.
“Do you have a favorite?”
His question surprises you and it takes you a minute to realize he’s referring to the donuts.
“OH, yeah definitely. The Bavarian cream is the best!”
“Hm,” he replies.
He doesn’t indulge you with his favorite, so you decide to ask.
“What about you?”
“Glazed,” he says, then adds, “with sprinkles.”
You stare at him for a beat then a laugh bursts out of you.
“I was not expecting the sprinkles!”
You’re too busy laughing to notice his smile.
“Well, I’ll keep that in mind for the next time I visit,” you tell him when you finally catch your breath.
“You want to come back?” he asks, eyes narrowed.
You don’t have a chance to answer because Sam enters the room with a boisterous greeting.
“There you are!” he says. “So glad you stopped by to see us.”
“And I brought donuts!”
“Perfect,” Sam says, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”
You look back at Bucky as Sam leads you out of the room. “Don’t eat any of those!”
Bucky’s scoff is the last thing you hear before you step out into the hallway.
After Sam gives you a tour you meet some of the veterans while you share donuts. It’s wonderful to talk with them and make them laugh and you’re happy you made the visit.
Right before you leave you run into Bucky who’s hovering over the last of the box of donuts.
“Slim pickings huh?” you say as you look into the mostly empty box.
“Yeah,” he huffs with a scowl.
“Lucky for you,” you say and open the cabinet above your head, “I stashed one in here earlier before we gave them out.”
You pull out the paper plate and take the napkin off to reveal a glazed donut with colored sprinkles.
He studies you in such a way that your thighs press tightly together in reaction. His expression is irritatingly unreadable as your eyes meet again.
He shifts as if he’s uncomfortable, an awkward silence hanging between you, before he blurts out, “thanks doll.”
His expression morphs into one of surprise and it matches yours, but you recover quickly enough with a warm smile.
“You’re welcome Bucky. Thanks for having me.”
You’re just getting situated with your book on the couch, rain pelting the window outside, when your phone rings.
Sam’s name lights up the screen and you answer with an excited, “Ghostbusters, whaddya want?”
The silence your met with is unexpected as you were hoping for one of Sam’s bright laughs.
“Tell me that’s not how you answer your phone normally.”
At Bucky’s weary comment your smile falls. “Bucky? I thought it was Sam?”
“You sound disappointed,” he points out.
“Only because you seem bothered by my amazing phone answering skills. I’m sorry that one got lost on you. Sam would have loved it.”
“So, if you knew it was me calling what would have said?” he asks.
“Uh…hello?”
“Uh hello?”
“No…just, hell, ugh! Why are you calling me from Sam’s phone.”
Silence again.
“Bucky?”
“Yeah…I didn’t have your number and wasn’t sure you’d answer if I called from mine so…”
“Ok,” you say. “And now that you have mine just text me and I’ll have yours.”
He’s quiet again before he continues in a rush of words.
“So, we’re having our annual fundraiser gala soon and Sam mentioned that you said you’d like to volunteer more, and we could use some help planning.”
“I’m definitely interested,” you cheer. “When should I come by?”
You get all the information you need from Bucky and then hang up, his conversation stilted when you started getting more excited and telling him that you were looking forward to working with him and helping. He hung up with a mumbled goodbye and never text you to give you his number.
It makes your thoughts of his disinterest solidify and you try to let it go and focus on the good you’ll be doing.
The week moves slowly but when Friday comes around you feel the same lightness from the last time you visited the VA. It gives you renewed energy, and you open the door with a smile, searching for the familiar face of Sam or Bucky.
You don’t see either of them, so you head down the hallway to the small dining room. Sam is at the front by one of the windows. He waves, pointing to his phone to signal he’ll be right off, and Bucky is at the counter.
He turns to face you, and you walk over.
“Hey,” you say.
“Hiya doll,” he answers.
Confusion washes over you at his sweet endearment, but you push it down and focus on what he’s holding.
“More donuts!” you exclaim.
“We always have them,” he says lightly. “I got you a Bavarian.”
At your silence you feel his eyes on you, and you drag them away from the perfectly powdered and filled deliciousness in the box.
“Why didn’t you text me?” you ask without thinking.
“What?” he says, his brow furrowed.
“You never text me to give me your number.”
His attention never leaves you, his gaze drifting from your head down to your feet. When he reaches your face again he stares and pulls his phone from his back pocket.
“Can I have your number?” he asks quietly.
“Sure,” you say and take his phone to program it in.
“Thanks,” he says.
“And thank you for my donut,” you finally say. “That was really thoughtful.”
He nods and grabs a glazed before motioning for you to follow him. The rest of the day is spent pouring over invites and food orders as well as any little detail that needs to be squared away before the event.
Most of the time it’s you, Sam and Bucky seated at a table, but Sam leaves occasionally to take a phone call or manage something in the office.
During the down time you learn more about Bucky, asking questions and mostly getting abridged but not unfriendly answers. He seems genuinely interested in what you have to say and that, again, confuses you more as to his intentions-if he has any at all.
Once the sun has set and you’re worn out you help them clean up then gather your things.
“How are you getting home?” Sam asks as you walk together to the door.
“I think I’m gonna walk,” you tell him.
Bucky makes a sound of disapproval behind you.
“What?” you turn and ask.
“It’s late,” he states.
“And?” you answer.
“It’s not safe.”
“I appreciate your concern but after sitting most of the afternoon I want to walk.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
At Bucky’s statement both you and Sam give him a wide-eyed look.
“You don’t have to do that,” you tell Bucky.
“Nah, he’s right,” Sam chimes in. “He should go with you. I would offer but I’m in the opposite direction.”
Sam tries to hide his smirk, but it’s written all over his face, so you just smile and accept Bucky’s kind and gentlemanly offer.
“Just gimme a sec. I want to grab something from my bike.”
“Bike?” you murmur as you track his movement toward a sleek black motorcycle parked at the curb.
Holy shit.
He doesn’t say a word as he walks back toward you.
“I didn’t know you had a motorcycle,” you say.
“Yeah,” he says while running a hand through his hair. “You know…easier in the city.”
“Smart and badass. It’s beautiful.”
That’s when he smiles at you, a real smile, for the very first time.
You nearly swoon.
“Yeah?” He looks boyishly pleased about your reaction.
You nod and give the bike one last look before you fall into step beside him. You chat about everything from the upcoming event to how he met Sam and even find out more about his motorcycle. He’s more open and comfortable and indulges you with more details about anything you ask.
As you pass by a bar a large crowd of young people come out, clearly drunk and rowdy as they sway and swerve as a mass toward you.
Bucky links your fingers together and deftly slides you out of harms way. Your skin tingles, little sparks of feeling shooting up your arm and it’s all you can concentrate on until the group passes by and continues down the street in a clamor.
“They seem like they’re having fun,” you giggle. “Thanks for the save there.”
The corner of his mouth starts to tilt upward and then he remembers he has a hold on your hand and his eyes drop and widen and he quickly let’s go, clearing his throat and mumbling, “no problem.”
“Did you ever go out like that and get wild?” you ask after a beat, hoping to lighten the mood again.
“Who me?” he asks and blows a raspberry. “Nah. I’m not really into big crowds much.”
“Then you should really enjoy the gala next week,” you say wryly.
“Right?” he answers. “If it weren’t for such a good cause and important to me, I’d skip it all together and stay behind the scenes.”
“Well at least you’ll have Sam!” you say in support.
“Actually…he’s usually caught up in everything since I leave all the talking and canoodling to him.”
“Canoodling,” you repeat and cover your mouth to stifle your laughter.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I can’t imagine you not wanting to canoodle.”
Your delivery drips with sarcasm, and he throws you another killer smile.
He has the sexiest smile ever. Of course he does. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t smile a lot, because of its killer effect? Or is he really just Mr. Grumpy? One or the other.
When you reach your apartment you walk toward the double doors, thanking him for walking you home. Searching for your keys in your bag you end up dropping your phone, bending to pick it up at the same time Bucky does.
You bump heads and he immediately apologizes and rests his hand gently on your forehead.
“You ok?” he asks, rubbing his thumb soothingly.
“Yeah,” you say, slightly breathless.
His gaze drops to your lips and lingers before coming back to your eyes.
“Hey um…” he starts, those beautiful blue eyes studying you, sweeping over your features, as if tallying every little detail he finds.
“Yeah?” you ask, giving him a sweet and reassuring smile.
“Uh, thanks, for the help today. I’ll see you soon.”
You deflate at his quick departure; telling him it was “your pleasure and you’ll see him later.”
You’re not even to your apartment door when your phone chimes. You retrieve it from your pocket and see Bucky’s name on the screen.
You open the text and nearly drop your phone again.
'Do you want to be my date to the fund raiser?'
Like sunshine bursting through a cloud, you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach, a fluttery warning that you’re way in over your head.
“What are you going to wear?” Diana asks as you stand in front of your closet.
“I have no idea!” you sigh. “I asked for a dress code, and he said ‘formal’…and that’s it. Then I asked what he was wearing, and he said, ‘a tux.’”
“Not very chatty, is he?” she mutters.
You shrug at stare at your closet that has nothing appropriate in it.
“Looks like we’re going shopping,” Diana says as she jumps off the bed and grabs her bag. “Come on, we’re gonna find you something that will knock his socks off.”
Bucky picks you up in a town car, and you smile graciously as he opens the door for you, your internal nerves wild as you wait for his reaction to your appearance.
Unfortunately, his reaction isn’t worth the nerves because he stares blankly at you before giving you an abrupt nod of greeting.
All the while you try not to drool over him in a tux.
When you arrive inside you can’t hide your beaming smile. It looks beautiful. All the details having come together perfectly to create an elegant yet comfortable atmosphere.
“You’re really doing wonderful work here,” you tell Bucky.
He holds out his arm for you and smiles. “Thanks doll.”
“You’re here!”
You turn at the familiar voice. Sam hurries over and takes you in.
“Wow,” he says, raising his brows. “Lucky man Barnes.”
He claps Bucky on the shoulder. “Enjoy yourselves. I’ll be around if you need me.”
Bucky places his hand on your lower back and leads you across the room to the table. Your breath catches at the sensation of his hand on your bare skin, but you try to shake it off.
His hand presses deeper into your back, and you follow his guide. People greet him and he says hello, but he doesn’t stop to chat.
“Shouldn’t you be taking the time to talk with these people?” you ask.
“Probably,” he says as he pulls out your chair.
You snort because he sounds like he couldn’t care less.
You’re the first people at the table and you stare at the fancy centerpiece.
“It really does look amazing in here.”
Bucky glances over it all, bemused.
“It does. I guess it’s necessary.”
“What do you mean,” you ask.
“I come to these events for Sam and the veterans. I want to raise money and help but if it were up to me it would all be quiet and low key. This kind of socializing isn’t my first choice.”
Turning to study his handsome face, you smile. “Is any kind of socializing your choice?”
He throws you a dark but amused look. “You’re funny”
You hold back more laughter and touch his knee, giving it a soft squeeze. His eyes meet yours and you swallow around the sudden sensation of your racing heart.
Needing to break the intense eye contact, you turn to observe the room, noting that more people are heading to their tables.
You spot Sam talking to a lovely woman and you feel Bucky’s smile.
“Sam likes her,” Bucky says quietly.
“Who is she?” you ask in a whisper.
He leans into you, his breath tickling your cheek as he murmurs, “the daughter of one of our veterans. They’ve met a few times, and I can tell he’s totally taken with her.”
You turn your head slightly, bringing your faces just inches apart. “She’s lovely. I’m sure she likes him too.”
His attention moves from Sam to you, and his eyes narrow as he realizes how close you are. But he doesn’t move back. Instead, he searches your eyes.
Your heartbeat skips and you’re almost afraid to breathe.
Needing to break the tension once again, you wrench your gaze away and find Sam shooting you a quick glance.
“I have the sudden urge to run over there and embarrass him,” you say with a devious smile.
Bucky’s answer is to move away but only because he throws his head back in laughter.
“I’d pay to see that,” he replies, mischief dancing in his eyes.
Before long, your table is filled, and Bucky introduces you to the people he knows. The older couple sitting nearest to you is just smitten with both you and Bucky, peppering you with questions and hanging on your every word.
They tell you their life story too, how they found each other and fell in love and have been together ever since. It warms you and you give his thigh another squeeze under the table.
He places his hand over yours and brushes his thumb across your knuckles.
The food comes and you turn his way, lightly tugging on your hand.
“I need that to eat,” you giggle.
“Oh, right,” he says with one more sweep of his thumb before he releases you with a soft expression.
The food is delicious, and you find yourself smiling between every bite.
“You two look like you’re having a good time.”
Bucky stiffens next to you, and you wait for his move before following his gaze to the older woman standing behind you.
“Don’t you look handsome as always James,” she comments then flits her eyes to you but doesn’t say anything more.
Bucky smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Mrs. Whitman. How are you?”
“Fine, just fine. Now I need to steal you away for a moment.”
Bucky’s eyes lift over Mrs. Whitman’s shoulder and his lips turn down in a frown.
“I can’t, sorry Mrs. Whitman. I’m here with someone.”
He looks at you and smiles.
Mrs. Whitman sighs, clearly annoyed.
“You can’t spare just a moment?” she pleads, trying to appear genuine.
“Sorry,” Bucky says as kindly as he can.
Without a goodbye she huffs off and you wait until she’s far enough away before looking at Bucky. His frown melts away as your gazes lock.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “Her husband was a veteran, and he recently passed. She’s been trying to set me up with her daughter since, but I’m not interested.”
“I hope I didn’t cause you any trouble,” you tell him.
“No. Not at all doll. She can be rude sometimes, but I think she’s just struggling with grief and doesn’t know what to do with herself. I feel bad, but like I said. I’m really not interested.”
You smile reassuringly then excuse yourself to the bathroom, needing a little air. When you return, you see Bucky hasn’t moved from his seat and his gaze is zeroed in on the hallway to the bathroom.
As you cross the room toward him, his eyes drift down your body. His gaze lingers on your bare shoulders and the sway of your hips and by the time you reach the table, you need another restroom break to cool off.
He doesn’t move out of the way, so you have to brush up against him to sit back down. When your eyes meet, his are heated. You stare at each other, the music and chatter around you fading away.
The lovely old woman next to you breaks you out the haze when she asks where the restroom is. You point her in the right direction, telling her you’ll happily escort her, but she refuses kindly and slowly makes her way through the crowd.
Once she’s safely down the hallway, you look away and find yourself staring at Bucky. His face is close.
Too close.
Or maybe just close enough depending on how you look at it.
His eyes search yours and you ignore the rushing in your ears as you close the distance between you and gently brush your lips over his.
Your mouth tingles from the brief touch as you pull away.
He scowls hard at your mouth, but you’re not sure if it’s because you kissed him or because you barely kissed him.
“What…?” he starts to ask roughly, but a loud banging at the front of the room, startles you and pulls your attention away.
Sam stands at a small podium, a smile on his face as he greets everyone.
Nice timing Sam.
‘How’s work today?’
You smile at you phone and Bucky’s name on the screen.
‘It’s going…’ you type back. ‘How about you? I know you said your day was going to be busy.’
‘Up and down. We made some really good progress with one of our veterans today, but we lost one of our oldest members to cancer.’
‘Oh Bucky. I’m sorry it’s been a tough day. Do you need anything? I can come by on my lunch break.’
‘Thank you doll, I appreciate it. But it’s unfortunately something I’ve gotten used to. Comes with the territory.’
‘I’m here if you need anything.’
‘Thanks.’
You’re just clearing your desk at the end of the day when your phone rings. You smile at the sight of Bucky’s name, and you’re not surprised considering you’d received a text to inform you that your delivery had been successfully made.
“Hey,” you greet.
“Hey.” His voice is low, a little hoarse. He clears his throat. “You sent me donuts.’
You grin at how confused he sounds. “I did and cookies.”
In fact, you sent him a dozen glazed- with sprinkles of course- donuts and a box full of assorted cookies from your usual favorite bakery.
“I wanted you to have a little treat after a long day. I know you might be used to it but that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard on you.”
He’s quiet so long you have a horrible feeling that you may have crossed a line. But then he speaks.
“Thank you doll. I really appreciate it.”
You smile and try to quell the butterflies dancing around your stomach. “You’re welcome!”
“I’ve never had so many glazed donuts to myself!” There’s a teasing tone to his confession.
“But you have to share the cookies!” you tell him, trying to sound stern.
“Yeah, I’ll do my best,” he laughs. “But really, thank you.”
“It was nothing,” you say trying to shake off the giddy feeling he’s giving you with a shrug he can’t see.
His voice is gravelly when he promises, “it’s not nothing to me.”
You teeter on your feet. “Well, I’m glad it cheered you up a little. I’m just heading out of work so…”
“So, I’ll let you go.”
Did you hear a smile in his voice?
“I’ll see you this weekend for Sam’s BBQ?”
“Yes! Looking forward to it,” you say.
“Great doll, see you then and I am too.”
With that, he hangs up and you stand at your desk and try to slow the rapid beating of your heart.
Bucky picks you up on his bike and you’re barely ashamed at how excited you are to ride with him.
He revs the engine when he pulls up at the curb where you’re standing and settles the bike with his leg on the sidewalk.
“No helmet?” you ask with a wave.
He sucks in a breath and his eyes are glued to your legs.
“Wrong outfit?” you say as you track his gaze. “I can go…”
“Nope,” he says quickly.
He hops off the bike and offers a hand to help you get on, squeezing his eyes closed when you get close to him and your shoulder brushes against his chest.
“Are you ok?” you ask him, looking up into his blue eyes.
“Yep. All good,” he says, voice strained.
You narrow your eyes at his sharp tone but take his offered hand and help onto the bike. Once you’re wrapped around him and pressed to his back you lean up and say, “what’s going on? You seem grumpy today?”
“Nothing,” he replies before revving the engine and pulling away from the curb.
It doesn’t take long to get to Sam’s and when you arrive Bucky parks his bike and hops off lithely and you wait for him to offer his hand to help you off.
To your surprise he takes you by the waist and lifts you off the bike in one easy movement. Your body is plastered to his as your feet slide to the ground.
You shiver at the contact.
“You cold?” He frowns at you.
“Nope,” you answer, looking away and straightening the bottom of your dress.
Over his shoulder you see Sam walking your way.
“There you two are!” he yells.
You wave and smile.
“You look gorgeous as always,” Sam says.
Sam leads the way to the backyard and Bucky places a hand at your lower back. Your brain fritzes and it’s all you can think about as you walk through the yard saying hello to people as you pass.
When you reach Sarah, Sam’s sister, you greet her with a warm hello, having met her once before at the VA. Bucky joins in the conversation, his fingers still warmly pressed into your skin when he starts to draw little circles on your lower back.
You suck in a breath and trip over your words and then he splays his palm and slides it around to your hip, drawing you into his side.
Your heart stops.
Sarah doesn’t seem to notice or if she does she doesn’t make it known and when Sam calls for her help she rushes off with a promise to come back and chat after.
“You seem to be in a better mood now that we’re here,” you say as you turn your eyes to Bucky.
His eyebrows draw in. “I…you look gorgeous.”
Your lips part and your mouth falls open.
“You always do. You did at the fund raiser. You do today. It’s just…I’m not good at…”
He trails off, his words dying on his lips and his cheeks turning your favorite shade of pink.
His words fill you with relief and you swear that it’s the lingering heat of that barely there kiss from the gala that you can’t seem to forget because the next thing you know you’re grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling his lips down to yours.
You intend it to be a quick kiss, but he brings one of his hands to the back of your neck and the other presses deep into your back as he takes over. Your small gasp turns into a moan, and it ignites him. He deepens the kiss, hungry and desperate and it sets every inch of you on fire.
“Uh, there are children present.”
Sam’s voice cuts through the moment like a bucket of cold water and you move back. Bucky’s hand flexes at the back of your neck as if to stop you from moving away from him. You breathe hard and state at each other.
Best. Kiss. Of. Your. Life.
Bucky appears dazed enough for you to believe maybe it was for him too.
The party around you comes back to life and Sam’s broad smile fills your vision. He claps Bucky hard on the back. “I knew ya had it you Barnes!”
Sam saunters off with some extra pep to his step and you watch him walk back into the house. Bucky’s fingers close around yours and he tugs you away from the crowd.
“Where are we going?” you ask.
He doesn’t answer but just holds tightly to your hand until you reach a small garden enclosed by a low white fence. At the back there’s a wrought iron bench just big enough for two.
“This is so pretty,” you whisper as he walks you through the garden.
When you reach the bench he turns your way.
“You’re really going to share the bench with me?” you ask playfully.
His answer is to lift his hand to cup your jaw, his eyes dropping to your mouth. You hold your breath as he leans in. The first contact he makes is just a brush of his lips over yours. The briefest sweep.
“I’m sorry I was such an ass that first day we met,” he whispers against your lips. “I was having a rough day but it’s no excuse.”
“It’s ok,” you breathe out. “I forgive you.”
He does it again. Sweeps his lips along yours and you hear the quietest moan escape his throat as he leans in closer, pressing his soft, strong mouth to yours and taking your top lip between his.
With a smile forming against your mouth, he tilts his head and kisses you with a heat that rivals the one only minutes ago. His free hand slides around your waist and smooths along the curve of your spine, dragging you up against his body.
Without an audience he kisses you long enough to have you pulling back for need of air.
“Bucky,” you whisper, grabbing his biceps for support.
“I really am sorry,” he murmurs.
“You’re good at that.”
“At what?” he asks, distracted by your mouth again.
“Kissing.”
He hums. “That’s only because I’m kissing you. And I plan to keep kissing you. For as long as you’ll let me.”
“Forever sounds good,” you whisper at the feel of his lips hovering over yours.
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