#BUCKY BARNES COLLEGE AU

[lovelybarnes]

Flirting and Football- B. Barnes

Pairings: bucky barnes x reader Warnings: past assault of reader, as slow burn as i can, au so bucky is different although i tried to not make him so ooc, sort of enemies to lovers?, genuinely can’t remember anymore, crappy writing in the beginning because i started writing this a year ago but i swear it gets better i promise About: request!! Bucky barnes and a college au where reader is the only one who isn’t interested in him basically

The end of your pen rests between your lips, unused as you scan the textbook page in front of you, your eyes thinning occasionally as you read. Your study partner’s book lays open in front of her, ten pages behind, and notebook adorned with two sole words.

She’s reciting the events of a date she went on yesterday or the day before, although admittedly, you’d only caught detached words for the past double-digit minutes. Your careful attention had dwindled down to nods as you subtly tapped at your notebook, then not-so-subtly and finally disappeared altogether as you made miscellaneous noises. 

You hum along now, eyes flickering from your notes to the material as you annotate pages with bright sticky notes.

She doesn’t seem to notice your disinterest, gushing about arms and hair, and the kiss that changed her life. The words don’t last too long in your mind, too cluttered with equations and vocabulary to make space for them.

“The girls told me he goes on a lot of dates but I can just tell I’m the one.”

You glance at your open computer, frowning at the slimming battery life, and purse your lips at the time. Sighing softly, you meet Quinn’s glazed eyes, offering her a tight smile you hope is somewhat believable.

“Is he in psychology too?” you ask, tapping on the notes the both of you were supposed to start when she began talking.

“Bucky? Oh no,” she laughs, the finger twirling her red hair pulling away to wave her hand dismissively. “He’s in sports or something. He's on the soccer team, you know.”

You nod. “Wow.”

“I know, oh my god.” She fans herself. “Did I tell you he basically won the last game?”

Probably. You duck your chin, highlighting a sentence. “Isn’t it a group effort?”

Quinn rolls her eyes. “Well, yeah, but he scored the winning goal.”

“Okay then,” you agree, deciding that you can finish your notes at your dorm. “I didn’t go to the last game, so what do I know?”

Quinn’s eyes go wide. “You didn’t go?” she exclaims, and you shush her, confirming. “Why?”

You shrug. “I had to do something.”

“You have to go to the next one tomorrow and see him in action. But don’t fall in love,” she warns with a giggle. “He’s mine.”

“Promise,” you reply hollowly, shutting your laptop. “Well, I have to go. This was helpful, though,” you lie.

“Oh, yeah, totally. I have to go too, rest up for the big game tomorrow. Gotta be there early to support Bucky,” Quinn informs. You stack your books to carry them back to your dorm.

“Right,” you respond, standing. “I hope everything goes well with him,” you say as you walk out.

She shoots you a big grin and a nod, her face bright as she agrees.

It’s cold when you step through the doors, bouncing on your feet and hugging your things closer to your chest as you begin to walk toward your dorm. You move to pull out your phone from your back pocket, quickly unlocking it to get to your contacts list. You press on Bruce’s contact and listen to the two beeps until he picks up.

“I hate you so much right now,” you greet, cutting his cheery hello off.

“What? What did I do?”

“‘I’ll be there!’ ‘How could I miss studying physics?’” you mock, imitating his voice. “You left me there, and I was stuck listening to Quinn's monologue about how the quarterback or whatever is the love of her life!”

“What quarterback?” Bruce asks.

“Does it matter? Honestly?” you rebut, taking care to watch your surroundings as you bully your friend. “Your quarterback wouldn’t cheat on you so I’m assuming it’s one that’s not Thor.”

“Okay, okay, I know. I’m sorry about ditching you. Thor and I just finished, we can come by and pick you up at the library. And Thor is a defender. Different sport entirely.”

“Whatever and ew,” you complain. “And I’m already on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“What? I told you to not walk home alone. Just wait for me.”

“Don’t worry. The dorm isn’t that far and you’re not exactly the most threatening anyway,” you remind. “I’ll be fine. ”

“Fine. Keep me on the line and be careful,” Bruce tells you.

“Of course,” you quip. A pause drapes over the two of you, the silence only interrupted by the steady sound of your footsteps on the concrete. You turn, leaves crunching underneath your shoes and you can practically hear Bruce relax somewhat, knowing that you’re nearby. You put him on speaker to hear better. “How’d it go with Thor today?”

“Really good.” The golden thread of happiness threaded through Bruce’s words comes through clear and clean. You can imagine him as he talks into the phone, glancing at Thor to make sure he can’t hear as he plays with his fingers. “I’m really sorry for leaving you there.”

“You’re not,” you amend. “But it’s fine. I’m glad you’re happy.”

“I am,” Bruce confirms.

“I don’t know how you find the time to juggle everything. It’s kind of terrifying,” you laugh, expecting him to tease you back, but his answer comes back honest.

“I know you think of boyfriends and whatever as distractions, but it’s the opposite. It’s not juggling if I have help carrying everything.”

You push your tongue against your cheek, listening to the rustling of the trees. You grab your keys as you arrive at your dorm door. “I’m here.”

“Finally.” You roll your eyes, opening the door to see your roommate and her brother inside.

“Hey Wanda, Piet.”

Wanda smiles at you and Pietro winks before greeting Bruce through your phone.

“Okay, Bruce, are we studying tomorrow?” you ask him, balancing your things in your arms. When Pietro notices, he stands, taking your books from you and setting them down on your table. You thank him and pat his arm.

“Before the game? Sure,” he replies. You take him off speaker, pulling your phone to your ear, not noticing that the mention of the game has caught Pietro and Wanda's attention.

“You’re going?” you question. “I thought Thor was benched.”

“He’s off!” There’s a whoop you recognize as Thor’s that makes you smile. “Which is why it’s an important game we need to go to.”

“We?” you echo.

“We as in you and I,” Bruce verifies.

“Wait, I have to go too? Why?” you whine.

Pietro cuts in, “You have to go! How will we win without our lucky charm?”

You purse your lips and squint at him. “Didn’t you guys win last game?”

“Still! Come on, please,” he insists. Wanda joins in, offering to bake you cookies.

You search your brain for excuses. “I have things to do.”

“If it’s not ‘stay home and binge a series,’ I'll let you skip,” Bruce chimes.

You frown as the siblings grin.

“Yeah, you’re going,” Bruce declares. “They’re not that bad and you know it. Besides, Thor wants you to braid his hair. You know my fingers always get tangled.”

“Fine,” you sigh dramatically. “But I want it noted that it’s only because I really like cookies.” You focus on Wanda, who nods enthusiastically. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Bruce repeats your words before you hang up, and at the click, you let yourself fall on your couch.

Wanda kisses your head and pats your shoulder comfortingly. “It’s going to be fun.”

“Standing in the middle of students I don’t know as they yell at a ball does not sound fun to me,” you disagree, but she ignores you.

“Even Vis is going,” she argues. “And you know how excited Thor gets when you braid his hair.”

You mutter incoherently.

“We’ll leave at three,” she instructs with a smile.

-

“I could be doing so many useful things right now,” you hiss at Bruce, remembering the half-written essay you have saved on your laptop, a string of frustratedly typed letters highlighted and waiting to be replaced with something coherent typed just beneath it.

Bruce had made you leave just as you began to taste the word you were looking for, assuring you that going out to see a game would somehow give your fried mind the jolt it needed. With little argument and the promise you’d committed to with a hook of your pinkie, you’d sighed and shut your laptop, leaving your apartment early to see the team before the game.

You could recognize some faces thanks to Pietro forcing you out to a few team celebrations and the occasional game you never paid much attention to. Although he’d laid off a while ago when Bruce and Thor started dating, your best friend had dragged you to every soccer-related event he didn’t want to go to alone. Pietro never minded your absence as much as Bruce did, always satisfied as long as you celebrated or consoled him afterward.

The word you’d been wracking your brain for suddenly comes to mind when you sit next to Bruce on a bench, pulling your phone out of your pocket to note it down, not noticing when the entire soccer team begins to leave the locker room, spilling into the hall where you’re slumped with your best friend.

Thor bellows your name excitedly when he spots you both, heading over. You glance up to give him a smile, quickly continuing to type the stray thoughts you’d been trying to catch when he turns, an extravagant arm extending as if to present you to the few guys with him. “This is the lovely lady I told you all about. She is very smart.”

You laugh at his introduction, tucking your phone back into your pocket. “Thank you, Thor.”

“Of course! And you all know Bruce, of course.”

There are chimes of agreement and greetings for your friend, a few of the players coming up to you. Pietro arrives first, as always, and pecks your forehead. “I, for one, am very glad you came to cheer us on.”

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” another says, huge and blonde, but his features are softened by an open grin. “I’m Steve.” He juts a finger at the brunet next to him, his hair tied up into a neat little bun at the nape of his neck, blue eyes shining as they observe you. “That’s Bucky.”

You smile at them, nodding. “Nice to meet you. I’ve actually heard a lot.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised. “Really?”

You stare at him blankly, opening and closing your mouth like a fish. “I meant Steve.” Steve looks startled. “I saw his work when I was volunteering at the art show last month. It was great, I actually bought the piece with the lilies!”

“Oh.” Bucky blinks blankly, tongue poking into his cheek before he clears his throat and manages a lift of the left edge of his lips. “‘Makes sense someone so pretty would have good taste.”

You stare silently at him for a second, relieved when Steve’s surprise takes a second to process.

“Wait, me?” Steve points stupidly at himself. “My art?”

“It was amazing, I couldn’t let it slip by!”

“I told you,” Bucky tells him, elbowing his arm. He, unlike the other players, wears a dark sleeve over the entirety of his left arm, all the way up to his fingers. His fingertips, jagged pink, peek out. “I wish you woulda let me go. I could’ve seen the art and met her sooner.”

His friend sends him a furtive glance. “Is this your first time coming to a game?” Steve wonders as he turns back to you. 

You shake your head. “Pietro is my roommate’s brother and Thor’s my best friend’s boyfriend. They drag me here when they feel like it, but it’s my first time being back here.” You gesture to the hall. “I’m usually a little late because Bruce drives like a grandmother.”

Bruce sighs, sending you a short glance that you respond to with a gentle nudge of his shoulder.

Blue eyes nods, careful to give you his full attention. “Well, I think you should come around more often.”

You scan him for a second. “Why?” you ask genuinely.

He pauses as he begins to explain, eyes pinched in confusion before Thor’s booming voice cuts him off, reminding you that you need to braid his hair. You give them a final smile before standing. “Duty calls, I guess.”

“So you’ll come around?” He calls after you, frowning when you respond with a transparent smile and ingenuine thumbs up. “Huh,” he says.

“What?” Steve responds, a little slowly, knowingly. He knows well what is making Bucky’s features crease in that way, but he’d prefer hearing it from his friend’s mouth.

“Just… wondering why I’d never seen her before. Pretty.”

“Uh huh.” Steve nods disbelievingly. Knowing he isn’t going to be able to push it out of his friend, he begins to walk toward the field, not waiting up for Bucky, the man caught up in his thoughts. “‘Thought it was because the line didn’t work,” he finally tells him, catching Bucky’s attention.

“What’re you talkin’ about, punk? What line?”

Steve snickers. “Any of ‘em.”

-

The next time Bucky sees you is across the courtyard, arms wrapped around books, your fingers curved protectively around the edges of your laptop. You struggle as you talk to someone he recognizes, bouncing lightly on the balls of your feet as you reach to brush strands of hair away from your eyes.

Why you don’t have a backpack like every other person is beyond him, but it’s the last thing on his mind when your eyes meet his and you smile and wave. Yeah, he knows how to handle this—the attention, the blushing, the flattery.

The hand he raises to wave back freezes awkwardly when he realizes your attention isn’t on him, but rather following something behind his shoulder. His hand lowers as he feels Pietro brush past him and over to you, Wanda following close by. She catches Bucky’s actions and sends him an amused look.

You accept the kiss Pietro drops on your forehead and greet Wanda excitedly, too busy chatting with her to notice the two pens that slip from your pile.

Bucky sniffs, tugging his varsity jacket tighter and deciding to embrace his mistake, walks over to you.

“Hey,” he greets, your name coming out like silk, shooting you a smile. He bends down to pick up your pens, handing them to you with a cajoling rise of his lips.

You return it a pause later. “Hey, um—thanks…” you struggle for a second before you’re cut off.

“Bucky!” the classmate that you were talking to exclaims, and Bucky realizes it’s Quinn, the girl he’d gone out on a date with a while ago. “I saw you on the field yesterday,” she tells him, twirling a strand of red hair around her finger. “You were amazing.”

“I appreciate it,” he thanks her, his eyes flickering back to you for a second, spotting you beginning to step away with a short wave and an elbow to Wanda's side. “I should go, I needed to talk to her,” he starts, acting quickly. “But it was nice to see you again. You look great, I like your necklace.”

Quinn’s fingers reach to pinch at the pendant on her chain, tilting her head at Bucky as she beams. “Thank you!”

Bucky nods, turning to find you gone. He looks around, surprised, but finally catches sight of you turning a corner with your friends. Before he can head toward you, Quinn catches his arm.

“Aren’t you going to ask me out again?” She smiles at him, eyes wide and shiny.

He winces, forcing himself to not glance back at you. “You’re a really great girl, Quinn, but I don’t think we’d work out. I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” Quinn says quietly, not returning the apologetic smile he sends her. He twists his lips and apologizes again before jogging over to you, slowing to match your pace when he finally catches up.

“Hey again,” he quips, offering you a smile. You return it kindly, twirling your pens between your fingers.

“Hey, Bucky.” Probably accidentally, you enunciate his name in a way that makes him realize you didn’t remember it when he came up to you earlier, and he bites back an embarrassed blush. “It was a good game yesterday.”

“Thank you,” he replies easily. “How was I?”

You cock your head at him. “Fine? You… were a soccer player.”

Pietro laughs, pulling you closer. “He’s asking if he lived up to the stories,” he clarifies, shooting Bucky a look. “‘Does another pretty girl think I’m great too?’” he mocks, the imitation edged in his accent.

You hum in understanding, turning back to Bucky. “Stories?” you echo. Your features bear no likeness to the pull Bucky is used to with girls, nothing implying the agreement or validation he’s usually welcomed with.

“Oh, you know,” Bucky starts with a nonchalant shrug, “of the ‘insane stamina’ and ‘could totally carry a bus’ variety. You know, the ‘Winter Soldier’ name.”

Your eyebrows raise. “‘Winter Soldier?’” you repeat, words bolded in an unconscious drama.

“’S my nickname,” Bucky explains sheepishly. You continue to stare at him for a second before cracking a smile.

“Bucky Barnes, right?” you ask him. He pushes his tongue against his cheek at the blow to his ego and nods. “Which one were you again? All the uniforms are the same, I can only recognize Thor and Piet.”

Pietro hoots. “Fifteen, baby!”

Bucky eyes you, his cheeks pulling with an amused lilt. “You wound me, doll.”

“I wound you?” you giggle, unable to help it. “This is our first conversation and I have the power to wound you. I don’t know how I feel about having this power over a stranger.”

Bucky gasps, reaching out to grab your hand with his ungloved hand and wrap it around an invisible knife to plunge it into his chest. He chokes as he mimes nursing his wound. “Just digging it in deeper, aren’t you? Vixen.”

“Oh, come on, you expect me to have learned your number after knowing you for five minutes?” you exclaim with mild indignance, a whisper of amusement betraying it. You click your tongue. “You were fine, I’m sure,” you respond finally. Wanda jabs an elbow into your arm and whispers something to you. Your eyes light up. “Oh, you’re seventeen! The ball hogger! You do realize you’re in a team, right?”

Pietro claps, nodding approvingly at you. “And me, little flower?”

You roll your eyes. “You were fast. Like always.”

“That’s code for ‘the best out there,’” Pietro tells Bucky.

“I think the code for that is Bucky Barnes,” Bucky retorts, turning back to you. “‘Got a favorite player yet?” He asks you.

You tilt a brow at him. “On the soccer team?”

“Yeah,” Bucky confirms.

“Based off of what?” You counter.

“Anything.”

“Oh.” You think. “Then no.”

Pietro clears his throat loudly.

“What if I get you the best seat possible next game?” Bucky offers.

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m good where I am.”

“She barely pays attention anyway,” Wanda informs. “All she does is complain.”

You nod. “And I can do that in any seat.”

“Alright… what if you wear my jersey at the next game?” Bucky continues.

You raise an eyebrow. “And you’re convincing me, right?”

“You should be swooning right now,” Bucky argues accusingly, but his words are tinged with a grin.

“Oh, my bad,” you deadpan, placing a hand on your chest and rocking on your heels. You flutter your lashes at him and melt your lips into a watery smile. “Oh my, golly! Benson’s sweaty jersey!”

“Bucky,” Bucky grumbles. “Bucky’s sweaty jersey.”

“Right,” you reply with an attentive nod, laughing quietly. Your attention is drawn by another building and you turn. “I gotta go, but please keep the jersey far away from me.” You point at Bucky and then wave at Wanda and Pietro. “I’ll see you guys around.”

“Me too!” Bucky shouts after you. You only reply with a thumbs up Bucky can tell is sarcastic even if he can’t see your face, slipping past a closing door. Bucky purses his lips, looking after you. “Huh.”

A hand slaps down on his shoulder, and Pietro's laughter bubbles from behind him. “Nice work,” he lies.

-

Entirely suddenly, your mind feels vignetted with inky stress. You suppose it was predictable, having ignored the weight your responsibilities had lain on your shoulders for as long as you had, but it’s exhausting nonetheless. You blink slowly at your document in a lousy attempt to soothe yourself, feeling as though you were staring at it through a tunnel.

You yawn as you splay yourself out on your bed, stretching your legs out as far as you can. Your fingertips brush your pillows as you let your eyelids fall closed for just a second, thoughts and reminders of the rest of the things you need to do lining your entrance to sleep, but the door is so inviting, the red tape of your to-do list blurring.

Your ringtone cuts in when you begin to reason with yourself, back straightening fast enough to give you whiplash when you open your eyes again. Your hand slams around your phone, blinking fast as you read Bruce’s contact name.

“The thing,” you mumble, remembering Bruce’s insistence that you went to something. You answer his call and fight to not let yourself fall back on your bed, free fingers moving to rub at your temple.

“Hey, are you ready?” Bruce asks, the sounds of conversation in the background.

“Sure,” you answer tiredly, looking down at yourself. Whoever it is you’re going out with can’t be too picky. “Ready for what again?”

“The team’s win? We’re going out to eat at an actual restaurant and everything.”

You purse your lips. “Are we going to a bar?”

There’s a moment of silence on his end, only highlighted by the muffled voices that converse. “...No.”

Nodding earnestly, you stand, stretching and shaking your limbs out in an attempt to wake yourself up, but the attempt is mocked when you yawn once again. You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror and wince, tilting your chin up to get another angle. “Then, yes, I’m ready. I guess.”

“That's great!” Bruce praises. “Because we are outside.”

You frown, grabbing a hair tie from your dresser before walking out of your room, surprised to see your apartment empty. “We?” you repeat as you look around, confused. “Are Wan and Pietro with you?”

“They’re probably already there. And ‘we’ as in I picked up Thor, Steve, and Bucky.”

You grunt in response, shutting off the lights and plucking your keys from the counter before locking up.

“You know Bucky. He’s not that bad.”

There are sounds of protest and you catch an offended ‘that bad?’ before you hang up, waving to Bruce’s car. The door to the back opens before you can touch the handle, a grinning face and shiny blue eyes welcoming you. “Hey, doll, you look great.”

“Bunny,” you greet, ducking your chin in a nod. Bucky gets out of the car, extending a hand to invite you inside.

“I don’t mind that one.” Bucky winks.

You shake your head, crawling inside and saying hi to Steve, nose wrinkling when you realize you’ll be sandwiched between the two guys, and turning when you notice Bucky getting in again. You tug on your seatbelt with a polite smile to Steve, bumping into hard muscle when you aim for the buckle.

“You tryna cop a feel? Could’ve just asked,” Bucky tells you, bumping you gently.

“Oh please,” you scoff, poking him with the metal thing. “Excuse me, seatbelt. Bruce isn’t that great of a driver. He’s in his twenties and gets night blindness.”

Bucky pats your hand gently and takes the belt from you, clicking it into place for you.

“Nice and safe, don’t worry, doll.”

You set your lips into a thin line and look straight ahead, pushing your phone into the space between your thighs so you don’t lose it. “How’d you do on your Norse mythology exam, Thor?” you ask, recalling the nerves with which he’d told you about it a couple of days ago.

“Wonderful! I really enjoy the subject. Thank you for helping me study,” Thor replies cheerily.

“You didn’t even need to,” you assure, stifling a yawn. Bucky frowns.

“Did you get some sleep?” Bruce wonders, eyeing you at a red light.

“Yeah, I drank some coffee,” you respond.

“Not the same thing. Not even close.”

You laugh. “I’ll be fine,” you promise. “Stop worrying.”

“I’m always worried,” Bruce grumbles.

“Hey, how was art today?” you ask Steve, nudging his arm gently. Bucky’s brows furrow, urging Steve to look at him and read his mind with an intense stare. Steve does not.

“You were right. I was being too judgemental,” Steve sighs. “I should’ve listened to you.”

“Listened to who?” Bucky buts in. “How did you know Stevie had art today?” he continues, trying to keep his tone light.

“We talk.” You shrug. 

“Oh,” Bucky starts, glaring at Steve. “Do you?”

“Yes.” You nod before actually yawning that time. “I’m sorry.”

“You should sleep more,” Bucky comments, watching you shake your head wearily.

“I have things to do,” you defend. “I sleep enough, it’s the stupid car ride, I always fall asleep in cars,” you defend. “But if it pleases you, I’ll sleep the entirety of tomorrow.” Your voice lacks the thick sleeve of satire you tend to use with him, more vulnerable in your exhaustion. Although your request is still sarcastic, Bucky can tell you know you need it.

“It will,” Bucky says.

For the most part, the conversation ends there, the group splitting into their own things during the car ride. After a few minutes, Bucky feels your head fall softly on his shoulder.

He stops paying attention to what Thor is saying, instead focusing on the way you edge toward him in your sleep, nudging your nose into his shoulder. He can see the way your lashes lay on your cheeks when you’re so close and the pretty bridge of your nose.

You’re more open than he’s ever seen you, eyes shut and lips parted with gentle breaths, and he can’t stop staring at you.

Then the car goes over a harsh bump, and Bucky wants to do everything he can to hold you still, but your eyes flutter open and you sit up, meeting his eyes for a second. “Sorry.”

“It's no problem,” Bucky assures, wanting to keep examining the lines of your face, but you clear your throat, looking forward, and Bucky has no choice but to do so too.

-

The surprise Bucky feels when he spots you at the celebration party is no match for the sweet excitement at the bottom of his stomach, immediately pulling his sleeve further down over his arm and brushing away loose strands of his hair. It would be embarrassing how much he cares about what you think of him if it weren’t so ridiculously important to him.

He busies himself with getting a drink for you, finding himself wondering if you’d come before, only to go unnoticed by him. There’s a startling burst of anger at himself with the thought, and Bucky blinks, eyes continuing to drift to you. Resolute, he moves toward you but pauses as he observes you.

The look on your face is one Bucky has never seen before—though he hasn’t seen many looks on your face before—but it settles so naturally on your features that it is difficult to argue that it’s unfamiliar. You look intense, but the way your eyes scan Wanda's boyfriend—who’s been dubbed Vision—is dangerous. Cocky.

You say something and your entire face relaxes resolutely, but your eyes remain expectant and arrogant, unamused with your companion’s reply.

Vision—who Bucky has heard is never wrong—sure seems wrong in whatever argument he’s just lost against you, and you know it.

“How’re my favorite geniuses?” Wanda pipes up suddenly, forcing Bucky’s daze away, appearing from an unknown place to sling an arm around you. You snap out of the look, your face softening, but the pleasure of being right dances across your features. Bucky clears his throat and takes a sip from his beer, stepping toward you.

“Oh, you know, out-geniusing the other,” you reply, glancing at Bucky as he walks up behind Vision.

“Hey Dolly,” he smiles. “I thought you had too many books to read to go out.”

“I finished them all,” you respond. “And ‘Dolly’? How old are you?”

Bucky clicks his tongue. “What would you prefer, sweetheart?”

“My name,” you state, then squint at him, cocking your head. “Do you remember it? I imagine it’s hard to keep track.”

“Of course I remember.” Bucky scoffs. “I don’t think I could forget.”

You breathe out a laugh. “Right, I’d imagine asking her out to swing dance without it would be pretty hard.”

“Are you asking me to swing dance with you?” Bucky retorts.

You snort. “Yeah, sure.”

Bucky holds out his hand expectantly, covered arm at his side.

Your eyes thin resolutely at him, scrutinizing the details of his face before you shake your head. “You’re ridiculous,” you criticise.

His hand drops and he pouts. “C’mon, pretty please.”

“Do you know what music you swing dance to?” you ask him, wagging a finger to refer to the booming music drowning most sounds inside the house. “Because this isn’t it.”

“I need to take advantage of the fact that you’re here, doll. You said so yourself you don’t go out much,” he complains. 

“Yeah, this is why!” you reply, your last words getting louder as the music impossibly gains volume.

“What?!” Bucky shouts, moving closer to hear you better, but you laugh and shake your head, telling him something he can’t make out. When you realize he can’t hear you, you give him a pout.

“And I was just about to say yes,” you say sadly.

“Wha—” Bucky’s cut off by the sharp shattering of glass. With a cringe, your eyes widen as you look behind him, eyes flickering back to him expectantly. He turns and groans. “I have to check that out. I’ll be right back!” he pledges, walking away to see a deadly amount of broken alcohol bottles on the floor, the stench of their contents burning his nose.

When he comes back, you’re gone.

The disappointment that blankets over his shoulders at the fact is just as surprising to him.

-

You’re in your bubble at the library, a little clueless to everything going on around you as you thumb the corner of a page, your pinky hovering below your book’s cover. You’re a few pages away from something exciting, teeth digging in with anticipation for it, when someone enters your field of vision, a large figure plopping down on a seat in front of you.

You spare them a glance and are surprised to find Bucky, sporting a large grin and his varsity jacket. You observe him suspiciously for a few moments, having never seen him even near the library, before returning your attention to what you’re reading.

“So, you’re actually here, huh?” he asks, and you shush him, shooting him a look to lower his voice. “Sorry.”

“Why are you here?” you question lowly instead, still not putting down your book.

“Anyone can come to the library.” Bucky points out, your name playfully scornful. You level a look at him.

“Yes. Why are you here? With me? You didn’t know my name until, like, two days ago.” You’re careful to keep your voice down.

“First of all,” Bucky starts, beginning to list off his fingers. “We met two weeks and three days ago.”

“Did we?” you drone, attempting to concentrate on the lines of your book once more.

“And, how do you know we don’t just have alternating study days?” Bucky points out.

“I am here every day,” you inform. “And if that were the case, why would you be here right now?” you rebut. “What would you be studying for? Coaching?”

“Maybe I wanted to switch things up,” Bucky defends. “And I’m not studying coaching. I’m studying biomedical engineering.”

You meet his eyes at the revelation, unable to keep the surprise off your face. You fold down the edge of the last page you read offhandedly and let your book flutter closed. “What? Quinn said you were in… sports.”

“Well,” Bucky sucks in a breath as if what he’s about to tell you is a revelation. “Soccer is a sport.”

“I know,” you affirm blandly. “But are you actually in biomedical?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nods. “What, do you not believe me?” he asks, raising a gloved hand to his chest. “I must say, I’m very disappointed in you perpetuating harmful stereotypes.”

“I’m just surprised. You’ve never talked about it before.”

“We’ve talked four times,” Bucky points out. “Although I want it clear that I have tried to make it more.”

“Yeah, what’s that about, by the wayt?” you wonder, setting your elbows on the table and dropping your face into your hands, cocking your head at him. “From what I’ve seen, you have your fair pick of girls and guys.”

“I wouldn’t say that—”

You laugh quietly. “Sure.”

“But I like you,” Bucky explains, shrugging. “You’re smart and pretty and you interest me.”

You scan his face, squinting. Astonishment tints your chuckle. “You are so much better at this than I thought you were.”

“Sorry?”

“At first, I was like ‘this guy? This is the Becky people won’t shut up about?’”

“Bucky,” he corrects swiftly.

“But I see it now. The charm. I’m not falling for it, but I see it.” You nod appreciatively and open your book once again to continue reading.

Bucky frowns in front of you, reaching over to insert an abrupt hand in between the pages. “What are you talking about?”

Sighing, you peel his fingers off the pages and meet his eyes, startled to see their intensity, crinkles at their edges, his lips pinched in a pout. You gasp. “Oh my god, you’re doing it now.”

“Sweetheart, it’s something that just happens naturally, I’m not doing anything.”

You stare at him for a moment before shaking your head, turning back to your book. “You are insufferable.”

“And you’re beautiful.”

“And you’re ridiculous.”

“Go out with me, c’mon,” Bucky urges, smiling now. It’s stupidly sweet.

You click your tongue. “Dates are a waste of time.”

“I’ll make it worth it. Promise.”

“I don’t have time to go out with guys I’ve talked to four times,” you explain.

“Alright, so if I talk to you more, you’ll go out with me?”

You wrinkle your nose. “I don’t… I’m not liking where this is going.”

“I will talk to you every single day from now on,” Bucky vows.

“Oh, I was right,” you groan. “I just mean you don’t know me. My favorite color, my favorite book, my order at my favorite restaurant, things like that.”

“I will know all of that,” he pledges.

You laugh disbelievingly. “Okay, Borky.”

A cocky little smirk plays on his lips as he winks. “Bucky,” he says archly.

-

You learn his name. Completely. Totally. Unmistakably. 

It’s hard not to, not when he becomes a constant in your life and not with a name like that.

James Buchanan Barnes. It rolls off your tongue too nicely all of a sudden.

He talks to you every day. Just like he said he would, even if it’s a two-minute conversation over text where he makes sure you get home safe and asks about your day. It would be overwhelming if it didn’t make you smile so much.

He doesn’t get upset when you answer two hours later because you were distracted with work, asking you how Linda the librarian was and if she liked the cookie he got her three days ago.

You relay her enthusiastic message, deciding to brush over the wink and coy smile she sent you at his mention. Then maybe, because you’re finished with your work for the day, you shove aside your notebook and bite back a small smile when he tells you how pretty he thought you looked in the glimpses he had of you today.

Organizing your books into a neat little pile, you message him and Bruce that you’re heading home. And you intend to, you really do, but then Bucky insists you call him the next time so he can walk you home, and you’ve suddenly been sitting at your table, uselessly leaning against your things for ten minutes.

You shoot up when you realize, lightly bewildered with yourself, gathering everything into your arms as quickly as possible, and shoving your phone into your back pocket. You hope Bruce isn’t getting too worried as you push open the library doors, hurrying down the steps and onto the path you usually take. You’re alert as always, careful to listen past the crunching of leaves beneath your feet and watch for shadows that edge past yours, digging your keys out of your pocket to hold them in the spaces between your fingers.

It’s three minutes in when you begin to feel unsettled. Your phone has vibrated three times in your back pocket in the past two minutes, but the darker section of your path is coming up, and chills rush up your neck as you imagine what the distraction could cost.

A shadow follows nearby, inching closer and closer until your hands are shaking and you’re on the verge of running.

Fingers wrap around your arm and you shriek, books slipping from your arms when they wane. Stumbling back, you tug yourself away from the intrusion, breaths coming out in big, wet gasps when you turn. Bucky’s wide blue eyes meet your glossy ones, hands up in surrender when he catches the tremble of your bottom lip.

A tear streaks down your cheek in profusing relief that it’s only him, the anger indistinguishable beneath it as you stumble into Bucky on wobbly knees, his name braided in a whimper. His arms settle around you hesitantly, guiltily.

“You scared me,” you whisper. “Don’t you know not to sneak up on people?”

“I'm sorry,” he replies sincerely. “I didn’t think—”

“I'm just relieved it’s you,” you interrupt, fingers fisting his shirt. You’re far away, stuck in a memory very far away, and yet it feels enough like you’re standing in it. Your grip is a vice, forcing him closer still until the pads of your fingers can feel the warmth of his skin beneath his shirt. 

Bucky murmurs your name, a large palm stroking up and down your back in comfort. His voice is mournful. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You snap out of it at the nickname, pulling away from his embrace as if you’d awoken. He doesn’t startle, only stares at the furrow of your brow and the light that reflects off of your cheeks. Swallowing hard, you blink away the rest of your daze, eyes falling on your things scattered on the ground.

“My computer,” you remember, frantically dropping to your knees to search for it.

Bucky doesn’t pry, kneeling next to you to help pick up your books, taking the ones you’d stacked up sloppily into his arms. You carry your laptop with a careful grip, relatively unharmed.

“I should get going,” you tell him, motioning to take your things from him but he refuses, ushering you into his car.

It’s silent for a while after you halfheartedly agree, obviously still embarrassed. Bucky’s hesitant to probe, but the guilt at what he could’ve reminded you of gnaws at his gut.

You can feel his stare each time he glances at you curiously; cautiously, as if you’ll burst into tears spontaneously. 

“I was attacked once.” Your voice is quiet, soft for the obvious teeth the words pierce you with. “Walking home from the library,” you explain. “It’s why Bruce doesn’t like me walking home alone.”

“You… someone…” Bucky pinches his lips into a tense line, fingers tightening around the wheel. “Why?” It’s painfully incredulous.

You look down at your lap, the left edge of your lips pulling into your cheek. “I was alone. It was easy.” What’s left to say seems painful for you to push out. “He didn’t like me very much.”

“I'm sorry,” Bucky offers after a tense second, unsure of what else to say and how angry he can be for you.

“For what? You didn’t have anything to do with it,” you retort, offering him a weak smile in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“For scaring you,” Bucky insists sincerely. “For the fact that it happened in the first place.” You don’t respond, watching as trees and lights flash past the window.

“It really wasn’t as bad as you think. The label makes it seem worse,” you palliate. “He hit me once and pushed me against a wall. A bruise was the worst of it. Both physically and to my bank account.”

Bucky’s frown stays, quiet blanketing the both of you.

“So, why’d you come get me? How’d you know I was only on my way?” you chime suddenly.

“I wanted to check up on you. You weren’t answering your phone.”

You pause, meeting his eyes with an inquisitive pinch to your features. “So you drove to find me?”

“Technically, I just wanted to drop by your apartment to make sure you got home safe, but that sounds better, so let’s go with it.” Bucky shoots you a grin. An olive branch.

You accept it as you mimic the sweet curve of his lips. “Ah, yes, and that’s how Barnacle gets ‘em. Being charming and funny and sweet—”

He lets a light chuckle slip past his lips, sparing you a delicate glance. You’re already looking at him, softer in your gaze than he’s ever seen you.

He hums inquisitively. “You think I'm charming and funny and sweet?”

You laugh openly, shaking your head but not negating his words. You hug your laptop closer to your chest, constellations reflected in your shadowed eyes as you look through the window. “I think—” you inhale in relief. “We’re here.”

Bucky slows to a stop when he reaches your dorm, shutting off the car and stepping out as you pack up. You only notice his actions when your fingers slip past the handle once you move to open your own door, huffing air out of your nose when he smirks wantonly at you.

“Thank you,” you grunt, climbing out and clutching your things.

You walk ahead, listening to the door slam and the subsequent sound of shoes quick against the pavement until he walks steadily beside you. “So, you wanna do that again soon?”

You laugh, motioning to grab your keys. “Do what again?”

He steals the jingling set from your fingers, moving hurriedly to the door when you make a noise hald surprise half indignation. He jams a silver one in, cringing when it doesn’t fit. You glower as you reach him, eyeing his hands as they continue to shove the wrong key in the lock. “It's the bronze one—no, the other one. How do you not—”

The door swings open, a satisfied smile parting Bucky’s face.

“Thanks,” you sigh, taking back your keys as you step inside. He stands outside awkwardly, kicking a pebble around with his foot. You squint doubtfully at him after you’ve set your things down and he’s not following behind you like you thought he would be. “What’re you doing?”

“You have to invite me in,” he explains.

“What, like a vampire?”

He blinks. “Yeah, like a vampire.”

You grin toothily. “Vucky…” It drips in an exaggerated accent.

“It's cold out here,” he reminds.

“Maybe you should go home then,” you suggest.

His face drops for a second and you find yourself feeling a tug of something sickening at your stomach. Like a reflex, the offer leaves your throat before you can help it.

“Or. Come inside.” At his hesitant posture, you suck in a bubble of air. “Do you want to come in? You’re welcome to.” I want you to.

He stares at you long enough for you to squirm before a smile breaks through his face. “Really?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, flimsy regret already churning in your gut. “Yeah. Just come on in already. It’s cold outside, dummy.”

-

It’s startling the first time you miss Bucky's ever-constant presence.

You’d rather not admit it, but it’s hard not to—not when he finds you between classes to carry your books, teasing you about your lack of a backpack but always leaving you with only your laptop and a pen in hand. You can’t help the smiles when he “coincidentally” bumps into you at your favorite coffee shop enough times to have your order ready when you arrive on your tea day.

His goofy jokes while you study at the library get less annoying and, annoyingly, more endearing. You suddenly know a whole lot about biomedical engineering and Bucky. You know his sister’s favorite color and can spout stories about Steve before he grew five times his size like you were there yourself.

It's infuriating, you think, but you don’t mind as much when Bucky's making you laugh with lovely crinkles at the edges of his eyes.

“I like the ocean,” you say sometime at the library, books spread on the table, ignored. He looks up from his notebook in surprise, putting down the pen you’d lent him two weeks ago. “It’s the reason why my favorite color is blue.”

His own blue glitters as he nods, listening. “‘Thought it was because of my eyes.”

You reward him a laugh and a roll of your eyes. “I really wanted Atlantis to be real when I was little,” you tell him. “And mermaids. Even if they were the ugly ones that murder you,” You confess in a rare moment of transparency, meeting his eyes before you clear your throat, bringing your attention back to your laptop.

“I like space,” Bucky offers. “It's endless.”

You nod in acceptance, clearing your throat as if to rid yourself of what you’ve given him.

“You collect those squished pennies, right?” Bucky asks. 

You’re startled that he remembers, and it takes a second for your brain to catch up. “Uh—yeah. Why?” 

Bucky turns to dig around in his bag, pulling out something small and bronze and shiny with a brilliant smile. ”I went to this little souvenir shop the other day and found one of those machines.” He extends it to you and flips it slowly between his index and middle. “It has a little fuzzy monster thing on it. I don’t get it, to be honest.”

It never crossed your mind that he would do that for you. A startling line of electricity runs up your arm when your fingers meet his, quick to take the penny from him. “Thank you,” you mutter, observing the coin in the light. The large eyes of the embossed little monster stare back at you. “This is really nice of you.”

“It’s not big deal,” Bucky shrugs. “I just thought you’d like it.”

Honey fills your throat. Gulping, you glance at the clock, nearly relieved to see it’s time for you to leave. “I gotta go,” you tell him, gathering your things. The smooth edges of the penny dig into your palm. He stands in tandem, rolling his shoulders.

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t have to,” you begin.

“I want to. Besides, it would kind of feel weird not to after so long.”

You nod along. “Right.” 

He ducks his chin in affirmation, picking up his stuff too. Furtively, he lightens your own load.

You notice but know better than point it out and argue, remembering how you ended up bedrudgingly carrying only a pen last time.

“Does Sam still have your car?” you ask as you leave the library.

“Yup. One more week, he says.”

“Do you believe him?”

“Well, he’s been saying that for two, so…”

You laugh, staring up at a big tree vignetted orange.

Bucky nudges you lightly as you begin to drift away, preventing you from walking into the street. He guides you past a fissure in the sidewalk as you gasp at something in a boutique’s window. “There’s a sale at the bookstore!”

“Wanna go tomorrow?” Bucky asks.

You nod. “Can we?”

“Sure, we’ll just leave the library a little earlier,” Bucky suggests, balancing the books in his arms.

“Someone’s sure of themselves,” you tease. “You’re walking me home tomorrow, too?”

“Of course. I have been for months,” Bucky points out with a shrug.

Your jests die on your tongue as you realize he’s right, the discovery shocking when the memories of your solitary walks are further away than you had thought; suddenly, you remember that the dog you’d pointed out two weeks ago was more for his benefit than yours.

“Weeks,” you argue weakly, throat suddenly dry.

“Weeks could definitely be months,” Bucky reasons. 

You ignore him, stopping in your tracks. “Why?”

A frown tugs at his lips as he pauses as well. “Because weeks add up to months?”

“Why have you been walking me home every day for months?”

“‘Thought it was weeks?”

“Bucky,” you say, a little urgent.

He shrugs boyishly, near flippant but your things in his arms don’t let you believe that. “I don't want you to walk alone.” Then, “I wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

Shocked pupils dart around wildly and it’s difficult to swallow before you steady yourself, clearing your throat. Your features are pinched in a sort of raw determination—open, honest. “Thank you.”

He smiles and it’s soft as he shrugs lightly, nearly nonchalant.

Before you let yourself get too caught up in the curve of his lips and realize you’ve imitated it unconsciously, you look away, clearing your throat in relief when you spot your door.

“Right. Um, thanks again.” You take your things from him before he can think twice about it, speed walking to your door.

“Wait—” he stammers out, confused and too late when you give him a wave and a quick goodbye before slamming the door shut.

You swallow hard on the other side of the door, wide eyes staring aimlessly into the darkness. In the dreaded stillness, you can feel the heat that creeps up your neck and floods stickily into your face, the prickling static that needles into your palms. Shakily and illicitly, a hand drifts up to your chest, pressing to feel the thundering beating of your heart.

You curse to the silence, letting your eyes flutter shut in candied disappointment.

-

Bucky thinks you’re acting weird.

No—he’s sure you’re acting weird.

He knows you now, can recognize the sarcastic lines of your cheeks when you wrinkle your nose and poke fun at him. He’s memorized the genuine curve of your lips when he’s said something so cheesy it circles around to sweet. He knows you at your angry and at your happy, but he doesn’t know this.

You’re being nice to him. Sticky nice. Not you-nice.

He tries teasing first, poking a pencil into the flesh of your arm and asking if you’d fallen in love or something. You’d scoffed, blinked fast, and swatted him away. But you didn’t say no.

He’s aware he’s a fool to think so large of a lack of something, but he can’t pretend like it doesn’t inspire something in him, something like hope, like nectar, sticky in his throat.

He wonders if it clogs words up in yours—if it’s the reason you’re so quiet.

You stare through your computer, steam from your tea disappearing into the air as you blink. There’s a sweet indent in between your eyebrows, similar to the one you get when you study something you don’t completely understand, usually accompanied by the nail of your thumb between your teeth. But this one is lighter, more unintentional. You’re struggling with something but he can’t figure out what.

Your eyes flicker up to his, glinting in the light when you catch them on you.

“What?” you blurt. It’s louder than you intend, and you purse your lips in that embarrassed way that you do, shrinking down into your seat. “Why are you staring at me?”

“You’re pretty,” he says honestly.

He waits for your usual flustered reaction and you give it to him, but it’s vignetted with something, different in the quick blinks of your eyes and the thumb you brush over your nose. 

“I'm hungry,” you complain, ignoring his compliment.

“I'll buy you something,” Bucky responds immediately, already pulling out his wallet.

“You don’t have to,” you remind. “I wasn’t asking, I was just—”

“I know, it’s fine,” Bucky insists.

“I can pay. It’s my food.”

“It’s just a meal.” He squints at you. “You never pass up a chance of food on me.” He presses the back of his palm against your forehead and leans in closer. “Are you feeling okay?”

You heat up beneath his touch, shaking him off with a scowl. “You make me sound awful. Fine. Buy me my food then.”

Bucky raises his hands in surrender, wallet between his index and middle finger rising with his shoulders. “I will.” He squeezes your shoulder before he walks away, dipping down to your ear to whisper, “And you’re not awful.”

You huff, pinching your lips together as you watch him get in line, nudging his fingers into his wallet to take out money.

Arbitrarily, you’re annoyed. Bucky Barnes is infuriating, with his long charcoal lashes and lilting chuckle and nonchalance in giving things you want without your asking.

Your laptop screen darkens with your lack of attention, and you’re left staring at yourself, scrutinizing the thin lines around your eyes as you squint. You’re being ridiculous; you can’t be angry over Bucky being a sweet guy.

“They musta’ known you were coming,” Bucky whistles, balancing a bowl and a small bag already darkened with grease spots in his arms. You take the bowl from him, warmth seeping into your fingertips.

You furrow your brows at him when you pop the lid off, barely realizing you’d never told him what to get. “You got me cavatappi pasta,” you realize. You look upset.

“Yeah?”

Distressed, you snatch the bag from him, shoving your fingers inside to pull out two large chocolate chip cookies. “And chocolate chip cookies.” Your voice rises and falls with a slightly unhinged twinge, features pulling as you examine what Bucky got for you. Your comfort food; the token you’d never explained to him.

“Yeah. It’s what you always get. And I know you always want two cookies but only get one because you’re afraid you won’t finish it, but we can split it or you can save it, or—what are you doing?”

You sweep everything into your arms, holding the food tightly behind your books.

“I have to go.”

“What? We just got here.”

“I have an appointment.”

“For what?”

“For—things—it’s—” you huff. “I have to go.”

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride? I have my car back, you know,” Bucky offers, already beginning to get up, but you shake your head, his actions hitting something in your chest.

“I'll be fine, thanks for the…” you exhale sharply. “I'll see you later.”

You run off, ignoring his confused call of your name as you slam the door behind you.

Hot soup dribbles down your fingers as you speed walk back home, but you barely notice, struggling to remember why you’d rejected him before.

“I hate him,” you mumble, fully dishonest as you struggle with your keys. “I hate him so much.”

“Hate who?” Bruce asks from the table, sparing you a glance from his computer. His eyebrows join as he takes you in, every panting and crazed inch of you, mouth parting and head tilting. “Uh.”

“Bucky,” you reply, setting the a la carte box down hastily. You drop the cookies next to it.

Bruce stares at you.

You make a big gesture with your hands toward it, pursing your lips. “He bought me that. Just—insisted. He's so—” you sigh frustratedly. “I didn't even—he bought me cookies.”

“Okay.” It's long and hesitant. “And that’s bad because…” he begins to shake his head. “You don’t like cookies?”

Your shoulders drop.

“You hate cookies and pasta. You think they’re awful,” Bruce tries.

“No! I love soup and cavatappi and—he’s ruining everything! He's such an idiot!” you rub your face, nuzzling your nose into the crevice between your joined hands.

Bruce examines you for another second before: “Oh.”

“What?” you snap, meeting amused brown. “What?”

“Nothing,” Bruce muses, but his lips are set in a careful smile, amusement poorly hidden. “Just that you finally learned his name.”

His thoughts are pathetically obvious in his tone, lips in a thin line and eyes crinkled.

“Don’t,” you warn. “Bruce Banner—”

“I didn't say anything.”

“Do not think what you’re thinking,” you demand. “He’s a player and a distraction and—”

“Okay.” Bruce has never been one to argue, but his one word answer makes you more frustrated than anything else he could’ve said.

You puff and gather your food, striding to your room with a glare at your best friend. 

-

For the first time since you met Bucky, you follow through on an excuse to miss the game. It’s not a majorly important one—although Bucky pouts when you tell him either way, insisting that he needs you there for good luck—but you still feel a strange ache at the bottom of your stomach when the game begins and you’re too far away to cheer for him.

The edges of your lips are downturned, brows pinched as you stare at your phone before you realize what you’re doing and snap your attention away.

Scoffing, you shake away thoughts about soccer and the memory of Bucky's sweet blue eyes when he’d teased you, a strange tone of real sadness beneath his playful jests.

You pause, lifting your hands from your computer to eye the time once again. Furtively scanning the work you’re nearly done with, you allow yourself the distraction and grab your phone, fingers dancing in anticipation when your lock screen is littered with icons of messaging apps.

You click Bucky’s name first, smiling softly as you read a quickly typed summary of the game he probably sent after the first half was over. He sounds hopeful and excited, like he always does when he talks abouts soccer, but he signs off with a mispelled reminder that he misses you and a red heart. You check Wanda and Bruce's messages next, your face falling when you learn the second half hadn’t gone as well.

Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you glance at your work again and then at the clock, taking a quick breath before you force yourself to write a quick conclusion you promise yourself you’ll revise when you get home.

The game is over by the time you arrive, easily finding a parking spot in the midst of everyone’s departure. You hear disappointed grumbling as you make your way inside the stadium and cringe, striding toward the locker room.

Your name in Bruce’s voice makes you pause, turning to meet his pulled, bushy eyebrows and pinched lips. “What’re you doing here?”

“I finished early,” you explain. “And you said the game wasn’t going great so I thought I'd come and make sure the team’s okay.”

Bruce's features morph into something like realization and then into his poor poker face, lips pursed so tightly they’re edged white. “Right. The team.”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, since it’s the whole team, I should let you know most of them are in the locker room moping, but Bucky wanted to leave early.” Bruce looks pointedly to the right.

“What? Why?”

Bruce shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe he said something about seeing you, but since you’re here for the team—”

“Shut up, Bruce.” You squint meanly at him, making him swallow a laugh as you spin around and continue on your path. 

You bump into Bucky when you turn a corner, familiar hands coming to rest on your arms distractedly before his eyes brighten in recognition. He says your name in surprise, shaking you gently as if to check that you’re real. His hair is damp from the quick shower he’d just taken, dark spots from water droplets around the collar of his gray shirt. He smells like soap and Bucky and it makes you a little dizzy.

“Hey, I heard about the game,” you say. “I wanted to check up on you.”

“Oh. I was just coming to see you. I told you that you were our lucky charm.” Bucky laughs but it’s not completely honest, his disappointment about the loss shining through.

You frown, unsure of what to do. Suddenly, you shove your hands into your coat pockets, pulling out a crinkled baggie in each one. “I brought you something.”

Bucky steps back, eyebrows furrowed as he notices what you’re holding. “Are those orange slices?”

Nervous now, you let your arms drop. “Yeah. I, uh—figured they’d maybe give you a boost and—” You cut yourself off, laughing awkwardly. “It was dumb.”

“My mom used to bring me orange slices after soccer practice,” Bucky mumbles.

You perk up. “Yeah. You told me about that and I thought maybe you’d like them.” The end of your sentence lilts like a question, answered by the quick movements of Bucky's fingers when he takes a baggie from you and pulls it open, taking a slice out to grin happily at it.

He dips his fingers in again and hands another to you, bumping his own small slice against yours. “Cheers.”

As soon as he bites into it, the juice from the fruit runs down his fingers, eyelids falling closed in a delighted hum. You barely realize the sap has streaked sticky orange down your arm, too.

He breathes out your name as he opens his eyes, a dazzling blue in the fluorescent lights of the locker room hall. “I forgot how…” He shakes his head, drifting off, and takes the other bag from you, pulling you to him. He sighs big and warm, rumbling through his chest.

You rub your nose against his sweatshirt, breathing in deeply. There's the fresh scent of citrus and then the lavender body wash you’d bought for him faint beneath his own distinct smell. He thanks you blithely, a lot lighter.

You shrug it off and force yourself to pull away, shivering at the loss even if you initiated it. “Do you want to get something to eat and watch that new episode of The Great British Bake-Off we missed last week?”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, hand drifting down to pull yours along. His skin is sticky and sweet against yours, orange juice smearing on your palm, but you can’t find it in you to care.

-

You feel sick when you step outside; a sticky, prickly rush that coats your throat in sap. It’s cold enough to make goosebumps rise on your skin, dark enough for the stars to drown in ink. Any appetite you had disappears, replaced with something clammier and painful, a twisting anxiety as a result of a bad day and a completely avoidable situation.

The bags with your food bump warmly against your knee, plastic handles pulling against the skin of your wrist. If you stay as you are, there will be indents of them once you finally put the bag down. 

Something like dumb, chest-puffed stubbornness tugs incessantly at you when you contemplate calling Bruce to come pick you up, a biting voice snapping pathetic for even thinking about it convincing you to shut the door behind you, locking away the choice of warmth and safety and shame.

It’s very silent when you begin to walk, the crinkling of your bag loud and in tandem with your steps. You let it slide down and hook on your fingers, carefully aware of shadows that might peek out behind yours and off-space footsteps.

Lonely fingers curl in on themselves, missing the comforting frigidity of the keys you’d forgotten at home. Your dying phone vibrates in the tight grip of your hand, spurring your steps faster. A dark lump appears on your shadow’s shoulder, and you freeze, spinning around violently to face the street, empty behind you.

You turn back around hesitantly, breath trembling. You could’ve sworn you felt someone else behind you.

Eyes rounded and wet, you begin to walk again, feeling an uncomfortable heat in the space where your ribs meet. Your required cognizance turns frantic, making your fingers shake and oxygen difficult to get into your lungs. There’s an echo to your footsteps. When you blink, there’s the ghost of an unforgiving hand on the back of your neck, the sharp slam of your jaw against brick. You gasp when you open your eyes again, a hand flying to the aching skin of your neck as you spin.

Your eyes promise that there’s no threat lurking behind darkness, but your mind blares with an assurance that there is. Ducking behind a wall, you scramble for your phone, cheeks cold with air-slapped tears as you press the call button for the first contact your fingers find.

Bucky’s voice is confused and comforting when he answers.

“I think—I think someone is following me,” you whimper, pulling your legs to your chest. Your food warms the side of your thigh. 

“What? Where are you?”

“I don’t know,” you cry. “I’m sorry, I should, it’s just—I was walking home from the restaurant and I heard something and I can’t concentrate, I can’t breathe—”

“Okay, it’s okay. Try to breathe, okay? Can you tell me what restaurant it was?”

You can picture the glowing sign, the faded wallpaper, the flowered curtains, but you can’t think, barrelling you deeper into panic. “I can’t remember—I—”

You can hear Bucky open his door. “Hey, it’s okay. Were you eating there or picking up to go?”

“To-go,” you answer tearfully, concentrating on the box pressing into your flesh.

“Okay. For you and Bruce or just you?”

“B-both of us.”

“You’re doing great, sweetheart. Try to take deep breaths, I think I—”

There’s a hollow click before it’s silent, the calm you’d been grasping at completely gone. “Bucky?” you plead. “Bucky?”

You pull your phone away from your ear, vision going blurry when you tap desperately at the screen and it doesn’t respond. Dead.

There’s a tremendous weight on your chest, your elbow knocking against the wall behind you with your attempts to draw in a breath. You shove your head in between your knees and try to remember Bucky’s voice, forget the cold fear that another clammy hand will reach for your hair and tug you up.

You need to get home. You can’t move.

You stifle your sobs with your leg, clawing at your shins and trying to think of anything else. You shove your hand in between your stomach and your legs, letting your phone fall to your thighs as the tips of your fingers reach the round hills of your collarbone. Your palm digs into your flesh until the beating of your heart pulses against your thumb, aching when you force it to stay put.

Thump, thump. “O-one,” you force, restraining your fingers from curling. Thump, thump. “Two.” A deep, shuddering breath that makes your mouth snap closed and your eyes flutter into darkness. Thump, thump. “Three…”

It’s how Bucky finds you, your nose deep between your knees, counting watery and muffled. He’s frantic when he sees you, panic like needles against his chest prickling to a pounding ache. He should be more cautious, stand still a few feet away for a few seconds, step slowly. If he were a little less in love, maybe he would; but he’s not, and the relief that you’re solid and no longer a tenuous voice on his phone is too much a relief.

He calls out your name and rushes forward, lowering himself down to his knees before he touches your arm. You flinch, shoving a strong hand against him, a horrible mix of anger and fear contorting your voice.

“It’s me. It’s Bucky.”

You still push yourself back against the wall, but your eyes finally meet his. “Bucky,” you test. “Bucky.”

It’s a silent, cold beat before you blink clearly, irises looking back a little less hazy. You murmur his name once more and promptly burst into tears, launching yourself into his chest. His arms wrap around you in tandem, pleasing the closeness your fisted fingers crave. He takes in your tears, steadily smoothing a hand over your back, desperation in the way he hooks his chin over the crown of your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks too soon.

You make a noise of which answer he can’t be sure of, so he gathers you up in his arms to push you away, only a little, only for a second to stare at you.

You grip at his shirt, cheeks shiny. And then, “I thought I was really gonna die this time.” Hearing your admittance causes a shift on your face, still crumpled and unready to deal with this. “Just for a second and—” Your lips twist to keep words back. 

Bucky pulls you back in.

“Will you take me home?”

His compliance is wordless and patient, hooking a finger through your takeout and grasping your hand with his free one, guiding you to his car. He helps you inside, setting the bag at your feet before he buckles your seatbelt and pushes strands of hair away from your sticky face.

Your breathing steadies while he drives, concentrating on the cool puffs of air hitting your collarbone, the lingering warmth from the food you’re suddenly starving for. But the wash of panic has left a shameful residue and a subsequent otiose apology on your tongue, making the once comforting silence expectant.

Your chest weighs when you finally spot your door, fighting to pull words from your mouth at the dimmed lights, but Bucky beats you to it, clearing his throat without unlocking the door. His left hand lays clothed on his lap, face stormed with uncertainty, but there’s a resolute edge that makes him look at you.

“I’m sorry,” you start, misunderstanding.

“Why?”

You aren’t sure, only certain of how guilty you feel. “For… bothering you. For making you comfort me. I’m sorry that you had to see me like that."

“Don’t apologize.” He clenches his jaw. “I don’t want you to…”

He shoves his sleeve up, taking a deep breath as he pinches the fingertips of the glove. “I know that wasn’t something you were ready to share with me. I understand, I…”

His gaze is heavy, flickering between your face and the fingers peeling away his glove. He swallows hard when it’s pulled off completely, looking away from the sight of his skin.

You can’t help the way your eyes track down his arm. It’s scarred with angry raised lines, ending at his fingertips and disappearing into his shirt sleeve. 

“I was in a fire once,” he says. “‘Got some scars too.”

“Is that why you wear—” You trail off at his nod. “Why are you… why are you telling me?” you ask, wincing at how the question sounds, but Bucky seems to understand what you mean.

He shrugs. “I don’t know,” he lies.

You blink at him, slipping a sure hand into his and squeezing. “Thank you.”

His eyes stay startled on your interlocked fingers, stubborn even beneath his gaze. He laughs hollowly then, squeezing back before he finally meets your eyes. “You, too.”

-

Your fingers are wound tightly around Wanda’s arm, the nails digging into her sweater giving away what your face is trying to hide. You’re zeroed in on Bucky's figure as he runs across green after blurry white.

The energy from the others who cheer in the stands makes you buzz, a rush of confidence urging you to jump to your feet when Bucky passes the ball to Pietro and then has it once again, close enough to the other team’s goal to make you clench a hand in anticipation.

With the flesh of your thumb between your teeth, you can’t help but lose your breath when it looks like Bucky's going to try to make it, only for it to be knocked out from your lungs when he crashes to the ground from the impact of another player.

Your mouth parts in a surprised o, tongue playing his name before you can stop it.

It's eerily silent in the stadium for a second as Bucky lies on the field, before it disappears into a fold of angry screams.

You’re not worried.

Bucky has never gotten hurt on the field before—”I’m too good,” he had promised you with an uneven grin, annoying in the way that he’s right—and the only times it’s seemed otherwise have been lies, a mere play he put on for the free kick. He had shaken his head disappointedly at you when you’d gotten worried, condemning you for not trusting him. He’s playful when he’s flustered.

So you’re not worried, because you know Bucky is fine.

Except he hasn’t moved in a little while too long and you don’t think it’s ever taken him this long to fake it. Although, maybe it feels longer because you can’t take your eyes off his figure.

You’re not worried.

Your fingers say otherwise, thumb tapping against your alternating fingers so frantically they get jumbled together, clumsily bumping into the crevices between them.

“Is he hurt?” Wanda asks.

“No,” you say automatically, stretching your fingers out like a starfish as if to rid evidence of your anxiety. “No, he’s fine.”

It's another moment that seems too long and the lines of Wanda’s worried face deepen, breaths a little faster. “He's not… he’s not getting up.”

“He’s fine,” you insist. “He has to milk it.” Glancing up at the timer, you nod definitively. “Yes, he has to milk it to get the penalty kick.”

“What?” Wanda asks, meeting your eyes in confusion.

“The hit didn’t seem that bad,” you lie unsteadily. “He has to milk it. He’s fine.”

Your panic escapes in the highs of your voice, something translucent hiding it when you clear your throat. He's still not getting up and it makes your breath comes out quickly. “He has to be,” you admit.

Wanda’s brows furrow, eyes searching your face once Bucky finally limps weakly to his feet, giving the ref a short nod. A sigh large enough to make you bend slips past your lips, caught in a relieved laugh as you gesture to him.

“I told you,” you tell her.

“He’s limping,” she points out.

“It’s fake,” you assure, fingers digging round shadows into your temples. “He’s doing his hero face, he’s completely fine.” It comes out more relieved than you thought it would.

He gets his penalty kick, makes it, of course, and it’s another few, a lot slower minutes before the game is over, but you’re making your way down thirty seconds before, too much attention on the game rather than your footing on the stairs.

You stumble over your feet, barely caring when the whistle blows to indicate the game is over, and turn in the direction of the hall to the locker room. Your anxiety nearly seems silly now, not as oppressive now that the soaked towel you’d been waterboarded with was dry. Yet, it still prickles at your fingertips, faint but enough to ache.

It's only a couple minutes before you can hear the pattering of feet, the stress that the outliers are Bucky, limping like he did on that field, nudging at your mind. The players wave at you, surprised, and your heart grows heavier and heavier with each passing team shirt that does not have “BARNES” on the back.

Then he’s there, completely fine and near the end of the line. He's grinning at the apparent win, letting Steve shove him proudly. His eyes widen in surprise when they catch sight of your own, saying something to his teammates without looking at them as he steps toward you.

“Hey, what’re you—”

Unable to help yourself, you throw your arms around his neck, the prickling disappearing the moment you touch him. He is hot and solid in your arms, but most importantly completely fine.

“Hey,” he coos, hugging you back.

You allow him a moment before you pull back abruptly and smack his arm.

“Ow!” he complains, grabbing your hand.

“You asshole! What’s up with the drama?”

“What, did I scare you?” Bucky teases, smirk dropping when your deadpan doesn’t glitter with playfulness. “Doll?”

“You took your sweet time getting back up,” you continue, ignoring his words. “You’ve never taken that long.” You’re alone in the hall now, eyes frenetic over his figure.

He softens then, chin pulling closer to his neck so his eyes can give you a reassuring smile. “Hey,” he says softly, tapping your wrist with his index, “‘m fine.”

“I know,” you contend, but it comes out a little relieved at hearing it in his voice. “I told Wanda that.”

His cheeks apple at your statement, amusement twinkling back in his eyes. “Of course. My girl knows I can't get hurt.”

You scoff at the term of endearment, nervous energy dissolving. “I'm not your girl.”

“Not yet!” he proclaims.

You wrinkle your nose, stepping away from him. “You stink. Go shower.” You pat his shoulder as a goodbye, beginning to head back out.

“Sure know how to charm a guy,” he mumbles, watching you walk away with a dopey smile.

-

You’re in your room, laying on your stomach with your computer in front of you and a drink Bucky had bought for you sitting on your bedside table.

He's sitting against your bed, scanning over a document. You should be doing something like it, but you can’t help but be distracted. He's quiet for once, features set in something not playful and not serious, a small knot between his brows indicating his concentration.

He looks pretty. You can’t be blamed.

If he notices your gaze, he’s kind enough to not point it out, although it’s unlikely. It’s undoubtedly heavy.

He’s staring down at his hand when he speaks up for what seems like the first time since hes arrived. His fingers dance nervously before he shoves them away from his view, edges of thick tissue peeking out as a bracelet on his wrist. “Do I make you uncomfortable when I flirt?”

You blink owlishly at him, unsure how to answer. He sounds so serious, guilty. “No.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable, I'll stop.”

“I know you would. But it doesn’t. Is something wrong?”

Bucky cringes. “You don’t really flirt back. I just want to make sure it’s not because I make you uncomfortable.”

“You don’t! I just… don’t really flirt. I don’t really think there’s a point if I’m not dating.”

“You don’t date?” He’s known this. To a point, which he thinks is not completely accurate now that he hears the way you say it.

“No.”

“Not even guys you like?”

“Especially guys I like, ” you clarify, cringing with the difficulty of putting so many feelings into so insignificant words. “Things get messy. It’s just… distractions and it’s never worth it.”

“You think love isn’t worth it? That it’s a distraction?”

You shoot him a look, huffing a little disappointedly, as if you’d expected him to understand something and he didn’t. “Why do people always twist my words into something so cynical?

I didn’t say that. Not love. I never said love, I just—it never ends well. It’s always something you pour so much into and get so little back.”

Bukcy shifts. “That’s not true. A relationship is fair, or at least, it’s supposed to be.”

“Ah, but see, ‘supposed to be’ and ‘is’ are two different things. I’d rather just skip the entire thing.”

Bucky frowns. “I don’t think you should.”

“You don’t think I should?”

“I don’t… I’m not telling you what to do, but I really think you should try. Love can be really great. And you deserve that.”

Your nails pinch at your fingers. “But what if it isn’t?”

“Then it isn’t.” You move to rebut, but Bucky continues. “But what if it is?”

You refuse to answer, chewing on your bottom lip.

Bucky gazes at you, waiting for a response before he realizes he won’t get one. He doesn’t push, turning back to his work.

“Why do you care so much?” you ask.

He sucks in a breath before admitting, “Mainly because I think you would really enjoy being loved. And very partially because I’m selfish.”

You hum. “You’re a really good guy, Bucky.”

“I try.”

You scowl lightly. “Incorrigible. Annoying. But really good.”

Bucky laughs. “Don’t forget—what was it you said about me? Charming? Sweet? Hand-to-heart hilarious?”

You launch a pillow at his head. “Nuisance is what I should’ve said.”

“Mm, a little contradictory but what’s life without some juxtaposition? Maybe I’m a man of many talents.”

The tip of your index finger shoves into his arm.

You fall into a peaceful silence once again when the laughter dissolves, your fingers busy away at your keyboard. There's a moment where you’re thinking, staring intently just past your computer and Bucky is staring at you, a thoughtful expression on his face, stony and all.

“Will you?”

It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to you. “Will I what?”

“Give it a chance.”

You want a moment to ponder it, because you know the right answer but you aren’t sure if you want to pick it. “Give what a chance?” you play dumb, but he doesn’t buy it.

You look to your side, unfocused eyes lazy on an ugly painting.

“Yeah, maybe.” You want to tell him it depends who it is, that you have very strict rules mentioning annoying brunets with blue eyes who walk you home from the library and never shut up, but you don’t, eyes travelling back to him slowly. His silence when they finally meet his own tell you he knows anyway.

Quickly looking back down, you avoid his gaze and continue to work.

-

You melt into his side, delightfully prickling when you lean in a little closer to take a sip of your drink. Eyes shimmering in the lame lights of the bar, you’ve never looked so openly bright, hardly containing your delight and everything you can spilling past anyway.

There are enough people in the place for it to feel rightfully uncomfortable, sweat-sticky skin bumping into the arm he has around your chair and making the heat rise, but Bucky can’t seem to notice.

It would feel plain ignorant to do so—to not focus completely on the stitched pride in the dips of your smile or the warmth of your palms as they splay flat on his arm.

It’s not enough to just have your fingers tug at him during conversations with strangers, he feels he should imprint the feeling of your touch like a branding.

You say his name in conversation, cruelly dragging your hand down to bracelet around his wrist and squeezing. You make a little shimmy with your shoulders that can’t help but make him laugh. He zeroes in on your lips, trying to make sense of what you’re saying.

You’re cute. You’re too sweet to be in this stuffy bar with him.

You turn to him brightly in the midst of another exclamation and he feels himself transported.

He can feel the end buzzer vibrating up to his fingertips, the breeze on the heat of his skin when he’d looked up, eyes searching for you like a habit. 

Your features are shrunken into the memory, suddenly far away but still pulled into the biggest beam you could muster, hands clapping ecstatically.

“Bucky,” memory-you says liltingly, too clearly.

When he blinks, he’s back in the present, the tip of your index dimpling his bicep, your face close enough for him to count each individual eyelash. He grins without really thinking about it. “Bucky,” you repeat, a little harsher but still teasing.

“Yeah?” he responds finally.

“We’re complimenting you and you aren’t paying attention? Are you feeling okay?” you frown, lips downturned but the edges of your eyes still crinkled with happy lines. The back of your hand meets his forehead.

“Fantastic,” he says, his left hand vining up to hook around your fingers and lay them on his lap. “Just won a game, didn’t you hear? All by myself, too.”

You shake your head at him, turning back to who Bucky realizes is one of your friends. Carol, you’d said.

“See?” You say accusatorily. 

Carol grins. “Yeah. Kind of hard not to when you describe it so thoroughly.”

That catches Bucky’s fluttering attention, an eyebrow shooting up questioningly in your direction. Your lips part in betrayal at Carol, and you begin to take your hand back from Bucky, but he hooks your wrist before you can. 

“I think Maria is calling you,” you tell her. “You should go see what that’s about.”

“Now, now,” Bucky starts. “Actually, I think I want to know how thoroughly you talk about me, sweeheart.”

“That's my cue,” Carol laughs, dipping a beer at you both. “I'll see you guys later. Congrats on the game.”

She bounces to her feet and takes off, leaving the two of you alone. Bucky nudges a finger in between your ribs, making you jump and swat at him. “Hey!”

“You talk about me to your friends?”

You stare at him, bottom lip pushing out defensively in your tipsiness. “Well, the star football player is one of my best friends, shouldn’t I be allowed to brag?”

“Best friend, huh? Bruce gonna be jealous?”

You wave him off, making a small, stubborn sound. “He ought to get over it with how much he ditches me.”

“See, I would never.” Bucky presses his free hand to his heart in oath. “Star football players are very reliable. Scoring goals, keeping plans, etcetera.”

You grin at the reminder, something sparkling beneath your skin like static, jolting your fingers when it begins to brim. You splay an excited palm on his shoulder out of pure excitement, seeming to relive the night.

“I am so proud of you,” you say. Saccharine, words stout with a smile and pride. “You did so well today.”

You’re startlingly genuine, entirely proud. Bucky can’t bring himself to tease or flirt.

“Thank you.”

You smile prettily, the light in your irises shifting at his authenticity. “I am,” you insist.

You just want to tell him, for him to hear you and understand how much you mean it. Your pupils flicker to a spot above his shoulder, distant for a second as your face brightens more. You laugh disbelievingly.

“I don't know all that much about football but from what I do, you’re certifiably extraordinary.” You sound out the word, unwilling to mess it up when you mean it so much. You try again. “You made a really great play.”

“Impossible,” Bucky corrects completely unsubtly, but it’s soft, blurred by yellow light from above and buzz from you.

You observe him for a second. “I think you’re amazing,” you say thoughtfully, not in an effort to compliment but in a sort of realization. “What… type of person…” you start but don’t continue, tongue unable to keep up with everything running through your mind. The walks home, the paid lunches, the attention, the ability. 

You inhale sharply, as if realizing you’re drifting off and trying to pull yourself back in.

Bucky knows what you expect—what he expects of himself—but he can’t bring himself to tease you, reiterate your words with an artful curve of his lips. He can’t concentrate enough to ignore the prickly warmth at the bottom of his stomach. He glances down at his watch.

“Should we go?” he says instead, casual but urgent. “It's late.”

He stands before you can process his offer, still a little drunk from stolen sips but only enough to make contrasts lighter. You blink up at him from your seat for a second before nodding, two short, stressed lines between your brows. He shouldn’t have been so abrupt.

Kinder, he helps you from your seat and guides you toward the door, keeping you away from stray elbows with benevolent redirection.

Your breath curls visibly in the air when you step outside, white and dissolving until it is replaced by another, longer exhale. You wrap your arms around your torso.

“C'mon,” he urges, guiding you to his car. “Let’s get you warm.”

“Should you be driving?” you ask as he searches his pockets for the keys, standing at the car door, watching him. “And what about the others?”

“Didn’t drink,” he answers, patting his coat pockets until he finds what he’s looking for.

You frown, slowly running through the night and realizing he’s right, recalling the sparkling water dripping moisture next to his jacket sleeve. The cold and the ennui knock a lot into focus.

He clicks open the car. “And this’ll force ‘em to call an uber. Worst comes to worst, I’ll drop by later to force them home. I just want to get you home first. No drunk footballers to puke on your feet.”

He rounds around to meet you, opening the door, and waiting patiently.

“Why didn’t you drink?” you ask. You’ve seen him drink before, tipsy in that breezy way where he’s a little flirtier with a little less filter. “You won a game. If you ever deserved it, it’s now.”

“I had to be able to drive you back.” He shrugs, cocking his head in the direction of the open car door. “Speak of the devil,” he starts pointedly, reminding you of your frigidity.

Still contemplating, you climb inside with furrowed brows, following Bucky's figure as he shuts your door, jogs back to his side, and settles into the driver’s seat. Rubbing his hands together, he turns to look at you. 

“You okay?” he asks.

“Uh huh.”

He clicks his tongue. “Look at that. I think you’re a little drunker than I thought.”

“I am not,” you argue, looking down at yourself and seeing nothing wrong until Bucky reaches over to pull your seatbelt over you. “Oh.”

Bucky breathes out a little laugh, amused.

“I'm just…” You contemplate for a second, sinking into the rumbling of the engine when Bucky turns the car on. Immediately, heat slaps your nose. The glass meets your temple bitingly, jolting your sentence back on track. You turn to see Bucky's attention already on you. “Happy.”

“You’re happy?” Bucky repeats pleasantly, shifting the gear into drive.

“Yes. It was a good day today.” 

You feel clearer now, the edges of reality crisper as you look out the window. “I know I already said it, but I'm really proud, Bucky. You win games and ace tests and don’t celebrate with a drink to drive me home. You’re kind of great.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, glancing at you.

You hum an affirmation, inhaling deeply. At some point, Your few-sip buzz dissipated into something different.

Sober, but influenced on the darkness of the sky and the roundness of the moon. It feels safe suddenly, a rush of energy jolting you straight. You stare at Bucky's profile. “Yeah,” you confirm clearly. “It's kind of disappointing, you know.”

Bucky is caught off guard, sparing you a look when he stops at a stoplight. “What?”

“I just thought you’d be different.”

“How?” His brows are furrowed.

You take a moment to ponder. “Not so… you. More of the unforgivably arrogant and ignorant jock variety.”

“So you were expecting me to be one of those cartoon stereotypes?” he teases, looking back at the road with an easier smile.

“Kind of,” you laugh. “But you’re not and that’s really great.”

The red light from outside drapes over his features, pulled as he searches the crevices of your face. In response, it slackens slowly, from thoughtful to a little dazed as you stare back. Without meaning to, you’re leaning in at the same time he is.

His skin flips green.

You fall away from him with a surprised exhale, blinking in confusion.

It takes a second for Bucky to look away after you have, and you consider yourself lucky there’s no one else on the road during the long moment it takes for his attention to switch back to driving.

He doesn’t want to just forget what happened. He doesn’t want to move on from this yet. “What does that mean?” he asks, your compliment playing on repeat in his mind.

You stay silent, trying to figure it out yourself. “I don't… I don’t know.”

He tries to remain unbothered, glancing at you once more to catch your focus unmovingly on him. He pulls into your driveway and turns off the car.

“What about going on a date with me?” he requests, a little more serious that usual but glazed in his usual tone. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he continues.  “I'll dress up in that shade of blue you think I look so good in and we’ll go out to eat at that little hole-in-the-wall restaurant I'm still impressed you found. You’ll order that same thing you always do, and we can talk about that novel you’re reading—”

He doesn’t wait for the answer you’ve given before, stepping out of the car and striding over to your side.

You gaze up at him when he opens your door, your buckle unclasped in your hand. He's kind as he always is as he helps you out, hands settling on your shoulders to steady you when you nearly trip over a ridge in the sidewalk.

“Or… or we could go take a walk around the park. Or go to the movies, or the amusement park, or do laundry or taxes or—anything as long as it’s with you.”

And maybe it’s the easy smile, with the glitter of gold pride still sewn into his lips, or the genuine kindness he’s never failed to show you under the mask of the moon. Maybe it’s the proximity. Maybe you just can’t help yourself anymore. You kiss him.

He’s frozen for a solid moment, thick enough for you to start doubting yourself, beginning to pull away when he finally reacts, practically melting into you as his hands frantically pull you closer.

He pulls away hesitantly, torturously, a second later, eyes scrutinizing. “Wait, wait, wait, are you drunk?”

You shake your head, laughing gently at the thumb that pulls gently at the skin beneath your eye to make sure, urgently tugging you back into the kiss when he’s satisfied.

“‘Had to make sure,” he mumbles against your lips. “This can’t happen when you aren’t you.”

“It’s me,” you promise, pulling back. Before you can delve into your mind too deeply, you nod suddenly. “Yeah, okay.”

“Yeah, okay what?” he repeats, chasing after you to kiss you a few more times.

“I'll go out with you.”

His smile drops, fingers tightening around your hips. “Wait, really?”

You nod. “Yeah.” You grasp his arms tightly. “I should at least try, right?”ey

[buckrecs]

Hi!! Was wondering if you had recs for Bucky and reader fake dating??

Fake Dating / Marriage

masterlist | req masterlist

ONESHOT

Keeping Score by @all1e23

After hearing you begging Steve to pretend to be your fake boyfriend to keep your family off your back, Bucky quickly jumps at the chance to play your boyfriend even though you’re a hundred percent sure he hates you. What could possibly go wrong?

the right partner by @bucky-bucket-barnes

You and Bucky have always possessed a complicated history, and even more strained relationship with one another. Begrudgingly, you're sent out on a mission with Barnes where you two are posing as a newly wed couple. In an effort to investigate the consistent disappearance of young women in a certain neighborhood, you find yourselves forced to confront a whirlwind of emotions.

Suburbia by @wkemeup

Posing as husband and wife, you and Bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a Hydra hacker. Perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.

where do we go from here by @barnesafterglow

when you agree to be bucky's date for his sister's wedding - and his fake girlfriend for the weekend - you're expecting a good time with your best friend. but things may never go back to normal

Fake It Till You Make It by @buckyalpine

Fake dating solves everything… right?

A Little Longer by @buckyalpine

It’s just a little lie.

Crossing The Line by @jadedvibes

After your friends set you up on a blind date with your sworn enemy, you both drunkenly decide to mess with them by making a bet to see who can pretend to be a happy couple the longest.

annoying neighbors and fake boyfriends | 2 by @lovelybarnes

“You stayed over at my place one night but my nosy, annoying neighbour saw you leave. They always get on my case about being single so I told them that we’re dating to show them”

Undercover by @buckysknifecollection

You and Bucky go on an undercover mission, where you need to pretend to be married. You are close to solving the case when Bucky decides he’s done pretending.

Make Believe on Christmas Eve by @green-eyeddragonfanfiction

When your family insists you bring your [nonexistent] long-term boyfriend over for Christmas, you panic. You hadn’t expected to be put in this situation; you never thought you’d actually have to bring “him” over.

Stop flirting with the staff by @writingsoftheloser

You and Bucky go undercover to stop the sale of a very important device.

The Karen’s of the World by @espinosaurusrexex

Aunt Karen is possibly the worst person you know. So when her annual Independence Day party arrives, you try to give her as little reason to pick on you as possible. Not being single for once should cover most of the topics she complains about. So you ask your friend Bucky to play pretend.

Tis the damn season by @starrysebastians

On the first post-blip Thanksgiving, you find yourself having to reunite with your parents and your heart is not in it — Sam persuades you to take Bucky with you, and this might be an opportunity for you two to get to know each other.

SERIES

The Holiday Hack by @gogolucky13

You ask Bucky to be your stand-in boyfriend for your family’s Christmas party.

Breaking The Rules by @redgillan

You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.

Best Boyfriend You’ve Ever Had by @language-rxgers

When you find out your sister is getting married and expects you to bring a date to her wedding in two months, you panic, having not gone on so much as a coffee date with a guy in far too long. After all, being an Avenger doesn’t leave too much time for a life outside of work. So, when your best friend, none other than the James Buchanan Barnes himself, offers to pretend to be your boyfriend and plus one, how can you refuse? It seems like something that would come out of a movie. However, real life is never like the movies, and stories like this never go as planned.

Stepping Up by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend

When Steve can’t go with you to your cousin’s wedding, he sends Bucky in his place. What happens when more than one person assume you’re dating? 

Picture Perfect by @writingsoftheloser

When Steve asks his collegue to be his fake girlfriend, she accepts, thinking nothing could really go wrong. Then, she meets Steve’s best friend.

-> this is not bucky and reader fake dating but it’s one of my favorite fics so I included it!

Worst Idea Ever by @firefly-in-darkness

Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what's the worst that could happen?

Heart to a Gunfight by @lailannajacobs

You didn’t want to help Bucky Barnes make it through the party by pretending to be his fake girlfriend, after all, you had just met him. You also didn’t plan on the charade lasting as long as it did. 

am i more than you bargained for? by @morsmordre-writes

Bucky has an unwanted secret admirer, so naturally you pretend to be his girlfriend until it blows over. Will someone catch feelings? Will they be absolute idiots about it all? Will they live happily ever after? We may never know.

Almost Had Me Believing It by @tuiccim

An undercover operation playing Bucky Barnes' wife is a dream come true. Playing house in the suburbs while trying to take down a drug ring brings you and Bucky closer but a nosy neighbor causes trouble in paradise.

A Certain Romance by @wienerbarnes

With the threat of yet another bad date at the result of Sam Wilson’s meddling, Bucky’s desperate to find a solution. As are you, another victim to Sam’s failed matchmaking. The two of you come up with a genius plan: pretend to date each other in order to escape the poking and prying nose of the Falcon.

The Proposal by @toomanyrobins2

Y/N Arnaud is the liaison to the Avengers, but she’s also a French citizen. After a couple mistakes, her visa application is denied. Even though they can’t stand each other, Bucky offers to marry her in order to keep her visa status in the U.S. and avoid deportation.

Follow My Lead by @ciarawritesmarvel

You and your new friend Wanda are enjoying a day together at the Avengers Tower, her giving you a tour around the place when you both run into the infamous Bucky Barnes. Moments later, he’s introducing you to Sam as his girlfriend and placing a kiss on your temple and you’re not sure you’ve ever been so confused in your life.

Where Dreams Go To Die by @insomniumstella

[venusjaynie]

wish you were sober

Pairing: College!Frat!Bucky x Fem!reader

summary: you've had a crush on your roommate, Bucky, for a while, and after rescuing him from a party while he's drunk for what feels like the 1000th time, you finally admit your feelings.

Content Warning: friends with feelings situation, sexual tension, strong language, pet-names (angel, baby etc.), alcoholism, drunk bucky, parties, angst, fluff, mentions of puking (no actual puking)

word count: 2k

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

"C'mon, Angel, please come with us?" Bucky asks, tugging on your arm. You roll your eyes, yet a playful smile toys at your lips.

"I said no, Buck. If you wanna go, then go. No one's stopping you. But I'm not going. I don't wanna deal with a tequila drunk Bucky Barnes all night." You tell him, gently removing your hand from his grip. His face falls immediately.

"I promise I won't get drunk this time. I swear I-" He's cut of by a loud laugh from Sam.

"Bullshit! You know as well as I do that you won't last 10 minutes before you're wasted, Barnes." Sam says. You agree.

"See Bucky, even Sam agrees. I'm tired. I'm not going, and that's final." You tell him, defiantly. "And don't you have that biology exam tomorrow?"

"I already studied for that! If you don't wanna come that's fine, but I swear I won't get drunk." Bucky remarks, a pointed look on his face.

"Even if I'm not there?" You ask.

"Even if you aren't there." You eye him suspiciously, but believe him nonetheless.

"Have fun, call me if you need me, yeah?" Bucky nods in response. He looks deflated, but bids you goodbye with a kiss on the cheek which absolutely does not make you blush, despite Sam's insistence that it in fact, does.

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

Turns out, you not going to the party was not final. After a few hours of you watching TV in the living room of you apartment, Bucky calls you, begging you to come and pick him up.

30 minutes and 3 rounds of shots, which you did not participate in, later, you're taking care of an extremely drunk Bucky. He smiling stupidly at you and is babbling about nonsense, while you try to coax him into the car.

"You'll never guess what Wanda said to Sharon-" He cuts off his own sentence with drunken laughter.

"Bucky- just get in- Jesus Christ, would you sit down and put the seatbelt on, please?" You say as you shove him into the car, being mindful of his head.

"And then-" He, again, interrupts himself with giggles. "And then Sam- he spilled an entire bottle of vodka right down Sharon's shirt! It was so fucking funny, babe. You shoulda- You shoulda been there!" He spirals off into another giggling fit as you finally get him into the car and he lets you buckle his seatbelt. You close the passenger door with a sigh and walk to your side of the car, sitting down and starting the vehicle.

The car ride is mainly silent, save for Bucky's occasional giggling or whining about something that gone down at the party. You stay silent, keeping your eyes on the road, and even in his drunken state, Bucky can tell he's fucked up.

He thinks for a moment, not wanting to anger you any further and make the situation worse.

"Angel?" He asks, somewhat quietly. You nod. "Are you mad at me?" He almost whispers.

You don't say anything.

"You're mad." It's a statement, yet he poses it as a question. He sounds so sad, you almost feel bad for him.

"And you're drunk." You say.

"What?! No I'm not!" He replies.

You sigh, before asking, "How much did you drink tonight?"

"Uh- I did, like, 3 rounds of, uh, tequila shots. I did the keg challenge- you know the one from Stranger Things-" You cut him off with an unimpressed look. He chuckles nervously, but continues. "That's irrelevant. I had, maybe, 2 cups of Jack and coke..." He trails off as you stop at a red light and turn to face him.

You sigh. "You promised, James." His eyes widen at the use of his first name, and he immediately knows he fucked up.

"I know I did. M'sorry. I just got carried away... again." He sends a resentful look in your direction. You turn away from him. The lights turn green and you continue the car ride to your house.

After a while, Bucky speaks up. "I-uh- I don't feel so good." He says, swallowing, hard.

"There's a bottle of water in the glove compartment. James, if you puke in my car I'm never speaking to you again. If you need me to pull over, tell me. We are not having another Fulton Street incident." You tell him, deadly serious. He takes the water from the glove compartment and sips it. Thankfully, he doesn't puke in the car, and you soon turn into the car parking area back on campus, which luckily, is close to the frat house you share with the boys and Nat.

Bucky gets out first, and stumbles and trips his way over to the path leading up to the house. Sighing, you do the same, minus the stumbling and falling, and make your way over to him. As you arrive at the front door of the house, you pull the key from your pocket, and the little keychain picture of you and Bucky clinks on the metal of the door handle as you open it.

Once inside the house, Bucky immediately goes to the kitchen. You take off your coat and shoes at the door, and follow him.

He's getting another beer from the fridge.

"Bucky, what the hell are you doing?" You whisper-shout.

"I'm getting a beer." He says, loudly.

"Lower your voice. Everyone else is sleeping." You say, almost irritated.

"Sorry, Angel." He giggles. He opens the beer and moves to take a swig of it, but you're faster than him in his drunken state and you manage to take the beer from him before he can consume anymore alcohol. "Hey!"

"You need to go to sleep, c'mon." You take his hand and practically drag him to his room, reminding him to keep quiet as you walk past the other bedrooms. When you reach Bucky's room, you go in to help him get ready, but he simply flops onto the bed and attempts to pull you with him.

"No, James, you need to get changed." He groans, but sits up anyway. You help him out of his clothes, and into a pair of plaid pyjama pants, but he refuses to wear a shirt.

"Alright, no shirt. Go brush your teeth. I'm gonna go back to my room, 'kay? Night, Bucky." You make a move to leave, but he grabs your hand before you can get very far.

"Don't go. Stay here tonight." He gives you his best puppy dog eyes, which he knows you can't say no to, and you roll your eyes, but sit down on the bed anyway. He grins cheekily before getting up to brush his teeth, not letting go of your hand and consequently dragging you in there with him. "There's a spare toothbrush in the cabinet." He mumbles, his toothbrush still in his mouth, and you reach over to grab the one he's talking about. As you're brushing your teeth, you catch Bucky's eye in the mirror. He's already looking at you, and before you look away he winks at you, grinning like the Cheshire cat. You can't help but laugh, and the faint tint of pink on your cheeks makes Bucky smirk and raise his eyebrows at you slightly. Even in his drunken state he notices those little things about you. He can't help it. He's infatuated by everything you do.

After brushing your teeth, you lightly pull at Bucky's arm to guide him to his bed, and he goes pliant at your touch. Before getting into bed, though, he goes to his wardrobe, albeit stumbling on his way, and pulls out one of his old jerseys for you.

"Here. You can't sleep in your clothes." You take it from him, thanking him, and you make a start to the bathroom until Bucky stops you. "Just change in here, angel. I think we've known each other long enough to get changed in the same room." He laughs as he says it, and you can't help but laugh too. You contemplate his offer for a moment, and then you remind yourself that he probably won't even remember this tomorrow morning, so you set the jersey on the bed and begin to undress yourself. You notice Bucky not-so-subtly watching you, so you clear your throat to get his attention.

"No peaking, pervy. Cover your eyes."

"Alright, alright. Don't get your panties in a twist." He uses his hands to cover his eyes, and you continue to get changed, and soon enough you notice that he's looking through the gaps in his fingers, but you don't bother to tell him you can see him, too tired to deal with that shit at 2am. You do your best to ignore his watchful eyes, but you can't, however, ignore the quiet intake of breath that comes from his direction when you take your shirt off, exposing your bra clad chest. Not wanting to encourage his ogling, you quickly slip the jersey over your head.

"Alright, you can look now." You tell him, and he removes his hands from his face and pulls back the covers of the bed, and you climb in beside him. You've slept in the same bed before, so being this close to Bucky shouldn't feel weird, but as you settle down in the bed and he shuffles closer to you, the feeling of his breath fanning on your neck, and the arm that's somehow circled your waist and pulled you into him all in the span of 10 seconds has you feeling slightly overwhelmed. You've had a crush on Bucky since you moved in with him and the others, which was a year ago. So being this close to him has turned the butterflies in your stomach that you feel when you're around him into a zoo enclosure of elephants and zebras and giraffes, and they're all chasing each other and causing your insides to flip around all over the place. It's fucking annoying. You're pulled out of your thoughts by Bucky's voice breaking the silence in the room.

"Thanks for tonight. Sorry you have to deal with this." His words are quiet, and you don't really know how to respond, because frankly, as much as you may complain about having to deal with Bucky when he's drunk, part of you doesn't mind taking care of him when he's like this.

"Don't worry about it. I'm your friend, it's kind've my job."

"Correction: you're my best friend." You giggle and he doesn't say anything else for a while, and you've closed your eyes, ready to sleep by the time he pipes up again.

"Angel? Can I tell you something?" You crack open one eye as he moves away from your back and turns you over by the hip in the process.

"Sure."

"I think you're really fucking pretty." He whispers it, and his face is inches from yours, and blood rushes to your cheeks while the elephants, zebras and giraffes in your stomach to backflips off the walls.

"You, uh, you shouldn't say shit like that when you're plastered."

"I know. But drunk words are sober thoughts. Isn't that what you told me that time I told Maddie I didn't like her when I was drunk and then she got all pissed at me and I blamed it on the alcohol?" You nodded at his question. "I really like you. Like, really."

"I really like you, too, but I don't wanna do this when you're drunk, so we'll talk about it in the morning, yeah?"

"Alright. Alcohol doesn't change how I feel about you, though." You smile at him, and he tilts his head up and kisses your forehead. "Night, babe."

"Goodnight, Bucky." You turn around again and his arm wraps around your waist as it did before, and he pulls you flush against him.

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

The sound of Bucky's 8.30am alarm pulls you from your sleep. You slept well throughout the night, even though you ended up with a 6'2" hockey player lying half across you. When Bucky wakes up, though, he doesn't make a move to get off of you, and just makes his head more comfortable against your chest. You turn the lamp on beside his bed, and he groans, shutting his eyes even tighter and covering them with his arm, and you laugh at his actions.

"Don't laugh. I'm in pain." He says, dramatically.

"Oh, shut it. You're hung over. C'mon, lets get you some Tylenol and a coffee." He groans again as you try to sit up, and wraps both his arms around your waist to pull you back, and you're giggling at him again. "James, c'mon. It's 8.30. Your bio exam is in an hour and a half, and you need to be on campus in an hour to get signed in."

"Ugh, fine!" He rolls his eyes, but gets out of bed and goes to walk to the kitchen, and you stand up to follow him.

"Woah, don't get pissy with me. I'm not the one who thought it would be a good idea to get drunk the night before an exam."

"Shut up."

By the sounds of the conversation, it doesn't seem like Bucky remembers the confession he made last night, and you can't say you're surprised. The cuddling may have been an indicator that what he said was true, but the two of you have quite a touchy, almost flirtatious, friendship so it doesn't really confirm anything for you.

Bucky must notice that you seem lost in thought, and it's almost like he can read your mind.

"Hey, I remember what we talked about last night. We'll talk about it as soon as I get home, okay? Trust me, I wouldn't forget something like that." His words put you at ease slightly, and you nod, smiling. "And, for the record, I meant it. All of it."

You look up at him.

"Me too."

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

this has been in my drafts for like 6 months ngl but anyways here you go <3

[endless-summer-soldier]

cruel to be kind - chapter one

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (90s college AU)

summary: it started with a dare. Bucky restlessly pursues Y/N, seeking just one date. as he chases her, he realizes she's different from she challenges him, so he starts to catch feelings. but it all falls apart when she learns about his initial motivations. based on 10 things I hate about you!

warnings: alcohol use, cursing

word count: 1.4k

series playlist

series masterlist

taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @ozwriterchick @notmeddy @drewsuncrustables @lokidokieokie @nats-whore @m4nulup1n @arcanebabe @tanyaspartak @jackiehollanderr @princezzjasmine @pono-pura-vida @mavrellover91 @helluvapimp @charmedbysarge @blackwood-bodecker-housewife (message me to be added)

There were three bangs that came from the other side of the wall and a voice yelled, “KEEP IT DOWN. SOME OF US HAVE STUDYING TO DO.” 

The small group of college boys playing Nintendo 64 groaned and turned the music down a few notches. This was a usual occurrence for a Thursday night.

“She is such a bitch!” Zemo said.

“Come on, cut her some slack,” Bucky said.

“Since when are you defending her?” Sam asked.

“I’m just saying, if you guys were my neighbors, I’d be annoyed too.”

“Alright then Barnes if you like her so much-”

“I don’t even know her,” Bucky interrupted.

“I’ve got a proposition for you,” Zemo continued.

“What’s that?”

“Take her on a date.”

“No chance,” Bucky scoffed.

“I dare you.”

“I’m not ten years old. Daring me to do something isn’t gonna work.”

“Oh I see,” Sam added, “You know she won’t say yes.”

“That’s not it-”

“I didn’t think you were afraid of a challenge,” Zemo added.

“I’m not-”

“Sounds like you’re making a lot of excuses,” Sam said.

Bucky clenched his jaw in frustration, “Fine, fine. I will take her out on a date if it’ll get you two to shut up.”

As the other two went back to playing video games, Bucky started wracking his brain on how he was going to pull this off. Y/N was Zemo and Sam’s next door neighbor and she had a bit of a bad reputation on campus. She was the star player on the field hockey team and the only thing more lethal than her stick handling was her sarcasm. She didn’t put up with any bullshit, and people found that to be intimidating. But Bucky wasn’t intimidated, he just had to think through his first move.

He sat on the bleachers watching as field hockey practice drew to a close. Once the final whistle sounded, he took a final puff of his cigarette, dropped it on the ground and crushed it under the heel of his leather boot. He sauntered over to the bench where Y/N was gulping down a cup of water.

“Hey there doll,” he said, capturing her attention, “How are you doing?”

She crushed the cup in her hand and said, “Sweating like a pig.” 

“Now there’s a way to get a guy’s attention,” he replied. She started packing up her things in a duffel bag.

“My mission in life. But I caught your attention, so you see it worked.”

She grabbed her things and started walking off the field as he followed. “Pick you up on Friday then?” he replied.

She rolled her eyes and said, “Oh right, Friday...uh-huh.”

“I'm serious," he added.

She stopped walking and turned toward him, “Do you even know my name?”

“I know a lot more than you think.”

“I highly doubt that,” she said, picking up her pace. He stood there watching her leave.

“Think about it!” he called.

She turned around just for a moment to flip him off with both hands and then continued off the field. He stood there shaking his head with a smile. He lit another cigarette and watched her leave, wondering what his next move would be.

Bucky stumbled across Y/N rather unexpectedly a few days later. He spotted her in the window of the record shop, browsing through albums, and decided to wait out front to say hi. She walked out of the store with a few vinyls and stopped in her tracks when she saw him. 

“Hi,” he said, with a smile.

“What, are you stalking me now?”

“I was in the laundromat and I saw you in the window and thought I’d say hi.”

“Hi,” she said, walking away from him.

“You’re not much of a talker are you?”

“Can’t say that I am.”

Bucky took a few quick steps so that he was ahead of her and then came to a stop, blocking her path.

“You’re not afraid of me are you?” he said.

“Afraid of you? Why would I be afraid of you?”

“Most people are.”

“Okay well I’m not.”

“You may not be afraid of me, but I bet you’ve thought about me naked,” he said in his most sultry voice.

She stared at him for a moment, choosing her words very carefully. 

“Wow, am I that transparent?” she replied, sarcastically. With that she nudged him out of the way and continued on her path. She turned around and saw him standing there, watching her walk away. She stuck her tongue out at him and continued on her way. He lit a cigarette as he watched her trudge off in the opposite direction.

Bucky wasn’t giving up on her that easily. It wasn’t because he wanted to win the dare, now his interest was piqued. He could always rely on his good looks to charm women, but this girl was different. His normal moves weren’t even scratching the surface. He would have to get creative. He deduced from the run in at the record store that she liked music. As luck would have it, a local girl band was playing a set at one of the bars nearby and Bucky thought there was a good chance he might run into her there.

He walked into the bar and he immediately stuck out like a sore thumb. The place was filled with women and Bucky stood about a foot taller than everyone. He immediately made his way to the bar where he caught up with one of the bartenders he knew.

“What are you doing here man?” he asked Bucky.

Bucky downed a shot of Jameson and said, “I have no idea.” The bartender poured him another drink when Bucky saw Y/N dancing in the crowd. He almost didn’t recognize her with such a big smile on her face. She was usually scowling at him, but tonight she let her hair down and was laughing and dancing with her friends. He watched her for the next few songs when she suddenly started weaving through the crowd toward the bar. Bucky brought his attention back to the bar where he took a big swig of his drink and then gazed back up to watch the band. He saw Y/N approach the corner of the bar but he kept his attention focused on the band, waiting for her to approach him. She ordered a round of drinks and then she spotted him. 

She slid over toward him and said, “If you’re planning on asking me out, you might as well get it over with.”

“Do you mind?” he said, glancing at her briefly before looking back at the band, “I’m trying to listen.”

“You’re not even going to offer to buy me a drink?”

Bucky signaled to the bartender and ordered them two tequila shots and smiled at Y/N. The bartender placed the shots in front of them and Bucky took the salt shaker and sprinkled a pinch of salt on the back of her hand before doing the same to his own. He wedged the lime slice between his fingers and he held up the shot glass to her. She clinked his glass and they licked the salt, downed the shot, and then sucked on the limes. 

“So what are you doing here?” she finally asked him. 

“I come here a lot.”

“Not sure if you noticed, but you are one of the few guys in this bar right now.”

“Maybe this is where I come to pick up women.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said.

He shrugged, “I needed a change of scenery.”

“Ah, did you get hustled at your regular pool hall? Can’t show your face there anymore?”

“Something like that,” he smirked at her. 

“Well as much as I’d love to hear that story, I have people waiting on me,” she said, grabbing the round she ordered. She collected the glasses and turned, walking back towards the dancefloor. But Bucky wasn’t finished yet. He brought his drink and followed in her footsteps.

“Come to a party with me tomorrow,” he leaned over her shoulder and spoke in her ear. She turned to look at him, rolled her eyes, and shook her head in disbelief.

“Was that a yes?” he added.

“No.”

“Was it a no?”

“...No.”

“Great, I’ll see you at 10:30.” Before she could protest, he disappeared in the crowd.

“That smug son of a bitch,” she muttered to herself, returning to her friends.

[jbb-arnes]

i’m losing my mind trying to find a bucky two shot (i think) from a few years ago - it’s a college au where bucky is the reader’s neighbour i think and they build a friendship from being neighbours. i remember reader letting bucky sleep at her place because he was drunk and got locked out of his place that he shares with steve. i also remember in this au bucky gets his metal arm from a motorcycle accident. i really hope im not losing my mind and making this whole thing up

[hazywrites]

Bucky I'm In Love With My Best Friend

Chapters 1 & 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You are hopelessly in love with your best friend, James Buchanan Barnes, and it's clear he feels something for you, too. So between stolen kisses and hookups, drunken calls and flirty banter, why can't you talk about it? What even is "it"?

Warnings: Nothing so far, maybe slight angst?

Words: 1,648

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48220744

Chapter 3

AN: Hi, my lovelies! Although Bucky is my comfort character and my fav of all time, this is actually my first time writing for him! To be completely honest, this is totally self-gratifying and based heavily on my current romantic situation, but I do hope you all like it. This is just the beginning of this fic, and of course, I promise it will have a happy, resolved ending! For now, it is more of a best-friends-to-lovers situationship drabble. I would love to hear from you guys and I hope to receive some comments and feedback so I can know how you all liked the story. As always, thank you so much for reading. I love you all! Muah! <3 :D

Chapter 1

Your hair fell over your face, beads of sweat forming at the back of your neck. A stranger shot you a smile as you moved your hips to the pumping beat. You smiled back. You turned your attention away from him just as it looked like he might approach you, leaning over to your friends instead. “I’m going to get another drink!” You shouted over the pounding music. Wanda waved you off with a smile as she watched Nat spin Pietro around and around in a fit of giggles.

You stumbled slightly as you made your way through the crowd, all packed tightly and dancing close, to the dimly lit bar, and leaned against it as you waited for the redheaded bartender to turn around. You tugged the hem of your tight little black dress down a little. It wasn’t a self-conscious motion. Truthfully, you felt beautiful tonight, all eyes on you. It was just habit. You weren’t usually this girl. You’d normally stay home for a quiet night in. But you’d be damned if you waited by your phone for a drunken phone call from him. If he was out with friends, you would be, too. And you’d have a damn good time.

Dizzying lights danced in your periphery as you took a moment to collect yourself, when suddenly you felt your phone buzzing in your bag. Whipping it out embarrassingly quickly, you asked the bartender for a couple of white tea shots before sliding your thumb across your screen, the video call opening to reveal a grinning Bucky.

He was walking outside from what you could tell, Steve and Sam at his sides and Thor and Bruce probably trailing behind. The wide grin on his face told you he was even drunker than you were, and he was still looking ahead of him as he walked.

“Where are you?!” He shouted. You stepped away from the bar closer to the door to hear him better, and held the phone up to show yourself and the scene behind you.

“Aces, with Nat and the Maximoffs,” you said loudly. He finally looked down, his blue eyes blown out as his jaw dropped.

“What the hell are you doing looking that good?” He asked. You heard the boys laughing and teasing him in the background, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“Uh, dancing?” You said, but you couldn’t help the way your lips quirked into a smile at the compliment.

“The hell, with who?”

“I just told you—”

“I’m coming,” He announced. Your heart started to race as you imagined Bucky joining you guys. Seeing your little black dress in person. Dancing on you. Pinning you against a wall, kissing you…

“Y/N,” You were startled to notice it was Steve holding the phone now, looking down at you all broad shoulders and gallant smile. “Bucky is hammered. I’m going to take him home.”

“Oh, okay, should I come help you take care of him?” You couldn’t help the pang of disappointment in your chest at his words. Steve gave you a knowing smile.

“That’s alright, Y/N, he just needs to sleep it off. You enjoy your night.”

“Are you fucking done?” You heard Bucky’s voice pipe up as he snatched the phone back from Steve. “Sorry, Y/N, Steve is annoying and he wants to hog you all to himself.” He shot his best friend a glare who just gave him an amused but apologetic smile. You admired the lines of his sharp jaw, the way his brown hair was tucked behind his ears, and the way his eyebrows pushed together oh-so-seriously as he stepped away from his friends, the city lights blurring above him with each movement. “Sorry, I wanted you all to myself for a minute,” he said, flashing you a dazzling smile. You felt yourself getting lightheaded at the compliment and smiled at him shyly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you look fucking beautiful,” he proclaimed. “Should’ve told me you wanted to go out, angel. I would’ve taken you out on the town. Would’ve taken you back to my place.” He was so drunk. “So right now?” He asked with a smirk.

“Right now,” you agreed jokingly.

“I wish—” he started, but was interrupted by Thor yelling something to him in the background. “I gotta go, doll. Call you tonight?” You nodded, and when the call hung up you felt suddenly too sad to dance anymore. You gave your shots to Wanda, deciding the others had had enough to drink.

“You sure you’re okay?” Wanda asked, concern lacing her blue-green eyes. You gave her an unconvincing smile.

“Yeah, I just think I’m all danced out for the night. I’m gonna sleep.” She gave you a knowing look but hugged you goodbye.

“I’ll see you later then,” she said.

“See you later,” you repeated, trying to sound cheerful. “Have fun, you guys!”

Bucky didn’t call you. He probably fell asleep as soon as he got home. Your head spun from the liquor and his drunken smile all night.

Chapter 2

“The Covenant clears,” Bucky declared. He was using his annoying matter-of-fact tone and you felt the urge to knock him down a few pegs. It seemed unlikely, though. Even if he were objectively wrong in every way, Bucky seemed to win every single argument you got into. You suspected it had something to do with your mega crush on him. The way he looked at you had a way of making you swallow your words just as they were about to come out.

“The Empire would win based off sheer size alone,” you argued. “They literally rule most of the galaxy. The Covenant barely has enough manpower to control part of Orion’s arm.”

“Manpower?” Bucky scoffed. “You mean Stormtroopers? They couldn’t hit water if they fell out of a boat.”

“And the Grunts and Jackals are any better? They’re meant to be expendable, the only difference is the Covenant has less of them.”

“The only difference is the Covenant has Brutes and Elites to do the real fighting.”

“And they’ll wipe each other out the way they fight. Your whole army has no unity. You know what the Empire has? The Death Star.”

“Oh, I’m real scared of your floating space rock,” Bucky quipped.

“You should be!” You exclaimed. “Between that and the Star Destroyers—“

“You shouldn’t have brought up technology at all because Covenant would smoke the Empire. That’s all antiquated 70s bullshit. They have the Forerunner Keyship and plasma weaponry.”

“The Empire has hyperdrive,” you deadpanned. “And that’s so much better than slip space.” Bucky let out a disbelieving gasp.

“Eat your fucking words—”

“Hey, are y’all about fucking DONE?” You heard Sam’s voice boom from behind you. You started. You were so absorbed in the argument that you forgot you were in Bucky’s shared apartment with all of his roommates. You turned sheepishly to Sam, who was cradling a bowl of popcorn in one arm and holding the remote in his other hand. His face was less than amused. “Can y’all take the argument to Bucky’s room, ‘cuz I’m trying to watch Monday Night Raw.”

“I was invested,” Thor added earnestly from where he was perched on a kitchen stool.

“Sorry, guys,” you started, but Bucky simply scoffed and grabbed your wrist, dragging you to his room.

“Don’t apologize to Sam. He’ll die if he hears about an interest that isn’t WWE or 2K.”

“I heard that!” Sam shouted back from the living room.

“And his taste in music sucks,” Bucky added, more loudly.

You giggled as he closed the door behind you, flopping back onto his bed, your head hitting his pillow as you stared at the posters on his wall. Classic movies and modern rappers. Sports teams he’d been a fan of his whole life. Sports teams he’d just gotten into. Superheroes and video games. It was like a mosaic of his entire personality in one room. And it smelled like him. It was your favorite place to be. He always kept his room clean despite being a male college student, which you liked. Well, to be fair, you liked everything about him, even the things you didn’t like, like how stingy he was and how he couldn’t take a compliment for shit. Those things made him, him, and they just made him grow on you more.

“What’s up?” He asked, sitting next to you. You felt the mattress dip but didn’t look over at him yet.

“Just thinking about your room.”

“What about it?” I like being surrounded by this much of you, you wanted to say. I like that you have a pair of my earrings and my scrunchie that I left over here in your bedside drawer and I never asked for them back because it makes me happy that you’d want to keep them. I like wearing your hoodies when I come over and get cold. I like when we make love and your sheets smell like my perfume and I wonder if it makes you a little happy to smell it after I leave.

“It’s clean,” you settled on saying. He hummed in response.

Your heartbeat quickened as he laid next to you, and you curled into his side instinctively, your head nestled on his chest. It took him a second but he let his arm fall around you, his fingers dancing around your waist as he stroked it slightly. You held your breath so the tiny display of affection wouldn’t disappear as fast as it came. You knew you couldn’t do anything, not during the day with all his roommates home. They’d tear him to pieces about it later. So instead you let your eyes flutter shut and listened to his heartbeat as you pretended to fall asleep. This way, he wouldn’t worry about you reading too much into it. But you were. You always did.

[sunshine-on-my-mind]

Hey, sweet Meera.

How about some Bucky

And snacks (this is a Baklava Cronut, but any pastry will do)

Kisses

a/n: can i be cringy and say i don’t know which one is yummier? ahahha no sorry but omg i love this. it inspired me to write this AU hehe i really hope you like it.

James Bucky Barnes, spoilt and rich, son of CEO George Barnes, has everything. He is living his best life from on frat party to another from one girl to another, the famous playboy loved his life.

Until one day, few months before his graduation, his father called him in his office.

“You’ve had your fun, now it’s time to get serious” Bucky rolled his eyes

“Dad, I’m not joining your company” the senior Barnes laughed at that

“oh son, you really think you’re fit for my company? you are a spoilt little brat, living his life on his old man’s money. it’s time to change that.”

This made Bucky curious

“Go get yourself a job, any job, I don’t care, but if you can’t get yourself a job by the end of the month, then you’re out.”

“Out? what do you mean out?”

“Out of my will, out of your penthouse that I bought for you, well… everything actually.”

And that his Bucky Barnes found himself working in this coffee shop. He hates it I mean how do people even do this? And the customers are the worst, but he can’t complain or else he will be fired.

“This sucks” he mutters under his breath as he was making ‘oat caramel macchiato with mocha drizzle’ or whatever the shit the customer has ordered.

“Here’s your coffee” Bucky gives a fake smile to the customer, ugh they are lucky to receive even a fake smile from him.

Evening rolled in, it’s almost time for Bucky’s shift to end, finally. He’s cleaning up the counter, muttering curses under his breath when the cafe door opens again.

“Fucks sake wh-“ his rant stops in between when he sees you across the counter. Your eyes focused on the pastries displayed. And his eyes focused on you.

You look up at him and he looks away, he doesn’t want to get caught staring like some creep. Bucky clears his throat and you smile at him. How can someone else’s smile make him feel happy? He asks himself.

“Hi, um, can you help me with selecting a pastry? They all look so good I’m confused.” You ask him with that pretty smile of yours

Now if it was any other customer he probably would have rolled his eyes and said whatever came to his mind but in this case, he does want to talk to you.

“Well I’m a basic guy myself, quite love the brownies and cinnamon rolls, the apple pie too, but um, we started doing these Baklava Cronuts recently and they are quite popular so you can try one.” Bucky says with a smile, a genuine smile, after a while, gosh he doesn’t remember the last time he actually couldn’t stop smiling, he feels shy.

“One Baklava Cronut it is then” you give him your order “and can I please get an iced coffee as well?”

Bucky feels like saying ‘I’ll give you all the pastries and coffees if I could’- a smile plastered on his face.

You take a seat and wait for your order, Bucky told you he’d bring it over.

As Bucky starts making your coffee he cannot help but steal glances at you, you’re sitting there by the window, the evening sun casting a beautiful glow on your face. This is something Bucky would have scoffed at in another situation because he doesn’t really understand love, but there you are and he cannot stop staring.

It’s not that Bucky has not dated beautiful women before, some were models, literally but there is something about you which is giving him butterflies and he is not yet sure if he likes it.

“Here you go” Bucky smiles and places your order in front of you on the table.

“Tha- oh uh, I didn’t order the brownie.”

“It’s on the house.” The smooth Bucky who has flirted with many many women is gone, and remaining is a shy bucky who cannot stop smiling.

“oh,” and that’s when you bite your lip and Bucky feels his eyes are glued to your lips.

“Thank you…” You trail off to find his name tag. “Bucky”

The moment you say his name Bucky is gone. He wants to hear you say his name, again, and again. Has his name ever sounded so good?

“I’m- I don’t know if this is too forward but um, would you like to go out with me sometime?” Bucky is flustered while trying to ask you out. He looks at you with his pretty blue eyes and you felt like you’re melting into a puddle.

“Yeah, I’ll like that.” You smile.

Bucky feels like jumping in happiness. But tries to play it cool, you know scratch that he doesn’t want to be cool he wants to be happy and shy and spend time with you, get to know you.

He gives you his number and asks you to text him when you’re free.

After you leave the coffee shop that day, Bucky feels keeps checking his phone, excited, nervous, anxious, and after finishing his shift when he is going back home, when he feels like he is losing his mind, his phone chimes

you: hey, i’m free this friday if you’d like to meet x

Bucky smiles, almost giggles. Quickly types back.

Bucky: Sounds perfect. Can’t wait to meet you again.

Maybe working at the coffee shop isn’t that bad. He smiles to himself and drives back home, counting days till Friday.

[thesugarclubs-blog]

Show You Love - AU Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: college au, friends to lovers, soft smut, 18+

word count: 10.6k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1341247702-show-you-love-p%C3%ADa

poem author credits: a poem from Hellium by Rudy Francisco, a poem from milk and honey by Rupi Kupur, excerpt from the poem Butterfly by MHN

Masterlist

“Gwen, you have five minutes before I’m out the door!” Pía’s voice boomed along their apartment as she flitted across the kitchen getting their coffees ready before they headed out for the day. 

“Hold ooon! I don’t know what your rush is anyway!” Her raspy voice yelled back from her room. 

Pía rolled her eyes and laughed, setting their cups next to her backpack on the counter before heading to the door to slip on her boots. Brooklyn was already feeling the nearing summer heat but the very Sun would have to come down and melt her Docs off her feet before she decided to wear anything else. 

As she stood and fixed her long waves in their doorway mirror she saw along with her reflection when Gwen made her way around the table both hands combing through her bangs relentlessly. 

“Gwennifer, Sam already likes you, leave those poor bangs alone.” 

“Hey, that’s not my name and Sam's getting on that train too so stop it. Also, I am not zhuzhing them for him but do they look ok though?” She smiled awkwardly as she let her hands fall to her sides. 

“They look great, as per usual. Can we go now?” 

She grabbed her bag and coffee before turning to open the door, Gwen following suit. 

“We’re fine for time P and I should make you late considering that you won’t let me read your stuff.” 

Pía let out a sigh as she pulled the door open, “I’ll let you read it later, Gwen just-” The sound of something sliding across the rough tiled floor stopped her. Her gaze followed and as Gwen peered over her shoulder they both turned, looking at each other in confusion. 

A small box lay on the floor having tumbled into their room when the door opened. They shrugged at each other in surprise before Gwen reached down and retrieved it. 

“It’s for you P, it’s got your name on it. They even got the little accent too. Cute.”

Pía took the box from Gwen and, sure enough, there was a note on top written in neat, slightly slanted cursive.

 Pretty Pía, thought you could use a pick me up. 

There was no mention of who it was from other than a lop-sided smiley face.

"Uhhhh who’s that from, P? Do you have a secret lover or something?" Gwen giggled. She had leaned over Pía's shoulder to read the mysterious message as well.

"Not that I know of," Pía answered, lost in thought while she tried to think of who could have sent her the box. Her thumb traced along the outlines of the little smiley face, admiring its perfect imperfection. It had two small lines as eyes instead of the regular dots you would use when drawing a smiley face. Right underneath the eyes, she could see a diagonal line that represented the mouth. But also not a classic mouth-line, no this smile was different.

The mouth looked like the sassiest smirk she had ever seen. 

Who the hell sent her this box?

“Shake it,” Gwen murmured, “is it heavy?” 

“I’m not gonna shake it! What if it’s fragile?” Pía lifted the box, feeling the weight in her hands as she tried to decipher the handwriting. It wasn’t instantly recognizable, but then most secret admirers liked it that way. 

“Open it or I will, come on, P! We’re gonna be late otherwise.” 

Pía shot Gwen a look, but pulled the little tab anyway, releasing the seal and pulling the lid open as she ran through everything it could be in her head. 

She wasn’t expecting chocolates, though. Round little truffles in gold paper cases, each with decadent chunks of sea salt sprinkled on top. 

Salted caramel, her favourite.

"It's chocolate," Gwen said with a slight disappointment in her voice.

Looking at the gold label etched on the inside of the box, her breath caught in her throat. She recognized the brand. These were not just run of the mill chocolate pralines. These were expensive. She walked by the specialty shop a few times looking at the decadent treats they offered, longing for a taste. Whoever got her these, knew the quality and more importantly knew what kind of chocolate she liked.

"Not just chocolate, Gwen," she told her. The box of chocolate in her hands brought back a lot of childhood memories of her dad bringing a box at the end of each school year. Marking her success with something sweet only the two of them could share.

And to this day, he drove up to see her with a box of them in hand and a smile on his face.

"My dad always gets these for me. I usually have the boxes with me in some of my classes but I didn't think anyone would notice that."

Gwen's eyes shifted from the box to her friend with understanding. Pía brushed the gold foil with her fingers, feeling the raised letters with a soft smile. She shook her head and tucked them into her bag, her mood actually much improved by the gesture. Gwen laughed at her eager expression.

"Well, I guess we do love a man who's observant."

“Or woman,” she quipped with a raised brow. 

“Or woman. Let me see the handwriting again though.” 

Pía shook her head with a laugh and pulled her out of the doorway before pulling the door closed and checking the lock. 

“I want chocolate now.” Her roommate protested beside her. 

“I can share or you know you could also walk down the hall and knock on Sam’s door.” Pía joked with a wiggle of her brows, stopping just as Gwen did when she looked back in consideration. She stared at her with a look of disbelief as the blonde smiled back at her. 

“I was kidding ok. Let’s go, you're really gonna be late now.”

The two of them practically ran out of the door and across campus before separating, Gwen heading to the chem labs and Pía going into the large red-brick building that housed the English faculty.

She entered the lecture room in a hurry, dismayed to see it almost full but then she spied Sam’s roommate, who surreptitiously gestured to her, tapping the back of the seat next to him, where he’d placed his bag. It was almost as if he’d saved it for her.

Pía let out a huff, making her way up the steps and squeezing her way through the filled seats whispering apologies as she did so. She wasn't used to this many people being in their seats before her. Not that she was ever the first one in the room either, but she liked getting here with enough time to get herself settled before opening up the creative side of her brain. 

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she moved her way into the free seat, half smiling at the boy next to her. 

"Ok, class!" Professor Fury's voice boomed through the classroom. Of course, he picked today to be 4 minutes early. 

Plopping herself down in the seat, she scrambled to get her notebook out and ready, attempting to listen to the professor as she tried to centre herself, but the brush of Bucky's shoulder against hers drew her attention elsewhere. 

"Morning sunshine," he whispered into her ear. 

Pía felt her cheeks get warm and she smiled at Bucky as she flipped her notebook open to a fresh page and pulled out her pencil case that was filled with an assortment of colourful pens.

“How… how are you today, Bucky?” She stammered

“Better now,” Bucky grinned, tapping his pen on the desk and scrunching his nose at her, blue eyes shining. “You ready for Fury’s famous ode to modern poetry?” 

Pía chuckled softly. Everyone knew Fury was a diehard fan of poetry over everything else creative writing, modern over classics too, surprisingly. Any creative writing major had heard of and anticipated just how passionate he gets when these lectures rolled around. 

“I’ve been counting down the days,” she giggled, twirling her own pen as Fury clapped his hands. With his black roll neck and pushed-up sleeves, their professor looked like he’d fit right in at a slam poetry night.

“Hey,” a whisper came from behind her, “Pía!” Her name was grumbled followed by a poke to her shoulder with a pencil. 

She knew before she even turned around that Thor was leaning over his desk. His long hair dangled in her face and wafted the smell of two day old strawberry margaritas in her face. She shifted to look at him, unsurprised when she found exactly that. “What?” She huffed quietly as Fury rambled on at the front of the class. 

“Did you finish last week's chem lab?” He asked. 

“This is creative writing Thor…” Pía rolled her eyes with a lazy smile on her face. 

Thor looked down at his papers, his brows knitting together in confusion. She turned back around only for him to tap her again, only before she could speak Bucky answered for her.

"Dude! Are you still drunk?" He whisper-yelled. Flicking the blonde with his pen across the forehead, which Thor tried swatting away like a fly causing a couple of their classmates nearby to chuckle at his grumpy expression.

"James Barnes!" Fury exclaimed sarcastically across the wide lecture hall. "Would you like to teach this series on Auden yourself since you have my entire class' attention now?" 

Bucky's face flared up as Pía giggled lightly, earning her an ocean blue side-eye. He straightened up in his seat, leaning over the small desk with a smirk. 

"Nah, Fury, I'm good. More of an E.E. Cummings guy myself," Bucky replied cheekily, a mix of groans and chuckles from the desks around him. "Seriously, my bad. Carry on." 

Pía couldn't resist whacking him with the back of her hand as Fury sighed and stared them down over the top of his glasses, clapping his hands together with finality. 

"Well thank you for your express permission, Mr. Barnes. And to whoever the...dude...is behind you, kindly get the hell outta my lecture hall."

Thor grinned like an idiot in his seat before awkwardly getting to his flip-flop clad feet and crab walking past other students, tripping over them along the way and mumbling a series of sorry's and pardon me's.

Pía tried so hard to contain her giggles as Thor maneuvered clumsily through the lecture hall and he was just about gone when he abruptly stopped and turned around to start flirting with a random girl.

Professor Fury looked ready to go nuclear, shooting a glare at Bucky as if it truly was his responsibility to get rid of the party animal.

"Oh my God, Thor! Leave already!" Bucky blurted out suddenly, earning another giggle from the class.

"Right, my bad. Talk to you later." Thor winked at the girl who wrote her number down on a scrap of paper for him before finally leaving.

“Mot-, all right everyone may we continue please,” Fury pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in exasperation as the classroom door swung closed and everyone settled down. 

Pía leaned over and reached her hands into her bag, slipping off the small note attached to the box that had been waiting for her in her doorway. She folded it as neatly as she could and slid it into one of the pockets before sitting up straight with the box in tow. 

She moved her gaze over to Bucky who was already looking at her, a soft smile on his lips. She tapped her fingers nervously on the sides of the box before opening it and sliding it further his way. 

“Want some chocolate?”

Her murmured words weren’t loud enough to carry to the front of the class, where Fury was now leaning against his desk with his arms folded, just beginning his lecture. Bucky heard her, however, with an expression she couldn’t quite decipher.

“Are you sure?” He asked.  “They look kinda special.”

“I guess they are,” Pía replied with a smile. “Consider it a thanks for saving me a seat.”

“Don’t need a reward for that, Sweetheart,” he winked, but he took one of the chocolates and popped it into his mouth.

Rolling her eyes, Pía picked up the second chocolate and bit into it, letting the caramel sea salt and chocolate wash over her taste buds. A soft hum escaped her throat as her eyes fluttered closed and a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. 

"Would you and your chocolate like to get a room?" Bucky quipped quietly from beside her, his lips lightly brushing against her hair. 

Her eyes snapped open and she turned to see the boy smirking beside her, his ocean blue eyes tracing her features. Pía nudged her shoulder into his and shook her head, trying to ignore the heat creeping up her neck, "shut up!" she whispered back.

Bucky put his hands up in mock surrender and whispered “sorry” with a lopsided grin.

She shook her head and smiled to herself as she turned her attention back to the front and to Fury. Pía tried her best to focus on the professor and take notes on what he was saying.  Soon enough Fury got into one of his long and animated speeches and Pía settled into taking detailed notes using different coloured pens to highlight different topics and themes that the professor mentioned.

“Hey, did you do the assignment he set last week? The short poem one?” Bucky whispered, plucking one of Pía’s pens from the desk and highlighting his own messy notes. 

“I take it you didn’t?” Pía replied with a quirk of her eyebrow. 

“Actually, I did,” Bucky countered, poking his tongue out at her playfully. “I was just wondering because Fury said we’ll be sharing them with someone else and getting feedback if you wanna read each other’s?”

Pía was hesitant, she preferred to keep her poems herself but something about the wistful curiosity in Bucky’s eyes made her feel confident and safe. To share, if only with him. 

“Sure,” she dug the poem out from the back of her notebook. The pages folded too many times to count out of sheer nervousness. Fiddling with the dog eared corners she inhaled deeply and handed it to him, her fingers still gripping the corner of the paper. 

“I’ll be careful with it,” he said in a whisper and the breath she had taken caught in her throat. “Promise.” His finger brushed against the side of her hand gently as she finally let go of the paper.

He dug into one of his folders before finding his poem, then gently slid it over to Pia. "I look forward to knowing what you think," he whispered. Bucky looked towards the front of the room then as he tried to catch up on his notes from Fury's lecture.

The slightly crumpled paper practically burned a hole through her desk. Something about Bucky today was making her more flustered than usual. He was always friendly, never shy with his laughs or smiles, and flirted like it was his last day on earth. It made her blush every time he entered her orbit when they went out with their friends. 

She chanced a glance at his slanted writing, something about it tickling the back of her brain, and read the poem quickly while attempting to also focus on Fury. 

I loved her the same way

that I learned how to ride a bike.

Scared, but reckless.

With no training wheels

or elbow pads so my scars

can tell the story of how I fell for her.

It was short but sweet and Pía suddenly became nervous about her own poem, glancing over at Bucky who took his time reading it. She could tell exactly which line he was on by the way his blue eyes moved across the page.

You tell me to quiet down cause

my opinions make me less beautiful,

but I was not made with a fire in my belly

so I could be put out.

I was not made with a lightness on my tongue

so I could be easy to swallow.

I was made heavy,

half blade and half silk;

difficult to forget and not easy

for the mind to follow.

Her face grew red as his eyes finally stopped scanning the page, lingering on the last two lines and Pía suddenly began to feel overexposed.

"It's silly." She mumbled, trying to snatch the poem back from him but he retreated from her grip.

"No, it's not. It's... It's actually very beautiful." Bucky said.

Pía swallowed thickly, eyes focused on her nervous fingers and her soothing taps against the paper Bucky had handed to her. 

“Thank you, Bucky. Truly.” She lifted his gaze up to him and there he was looking back at her, that same soft smile on his face as before. She smiled back and tapped her index finger with more purpose just below his last line. 

“Yours is amazing. Vulnerable and… well raw love, which is beautiful. She must be very special.”

“I think so,” he said softly, his expression wistful.

Pía felt a twinge of envy for the girl that could elicit such a look from a guy like Bucky.  The redness in her cheeks wasn’t fading as quickly as she’d hoped, especially not under Bucky’s lingering attention, as if he were waiting for her to say something else. After another awkward moment, he huffed out a chuckle and, shaking his head, turned his attention back to Professor Fury.

The rest of the class dragged on as the professor rattled off poem after poem, allowing the class to analyze them for themselves and try their hand at picking out the proper meanings from the hidden messages. Pía felt the most comfortable in this class, it was one she was best at and it helped that the cute boy sitting next to her almost every day was not only interested in the actual class but made it more enjoyable just by talking about the work with her. 

The closing of Bucky's notebook beside her brought Pía out of her daydream that she hadn't realized she was in. She looked down and saw the linework of a small daisy appearing beneath her pen. 

"Oops," she chuckled, as she began cleaning up her own desk. 

"You didn't miss anything," Bucky shrugged, his signature playful smirk tugging at his plump lips, "oh we do have a new assignment for next class though, writing about an alien invasion or something like that..." 

Rolling her eyes, Pía let out a huff of air, "ha ha very funny..." and then she paused, turning her eyes to meet his, "Wait really?" 

Bucky's laugh boomed into the almost empty classroom, "No, you make it too easy sometimes," he commented, brushing a stray piece of dark hair off her shoulder.

As she was putting away her notebook and her pencil case Bucky tapped her on her shoulder.

“Did you want to go to the campus coffee shop and go over our poems together and share our thoughts? You know cause since that’s what Fury wants us to do.” He said with a slightly nervous tone to his voice. Why would he be nervous? Pía thought to herself. She froze at his question, not entirely sure what to say.

“Uh—” Pía paused, blinking rapidly as she tried to ignore the not so subtle puppy eyes Bucky was flashing her. “Can we rain check, actually? I already planned to meet Gwen after class and I’m pretty drained.” 

Bucky’s face only faltered for a moment before he broke out into the lopsided grin she’d come to know him for. 

“Sure thing, say hey to Gwen for me.” 

Pía nodded, watching on as Bucky swung his backpack over his shoulder and left the room. 

Oh, boy. 

It was two days later, as Pía left for a study group at the library that another box appeared outside her door. Slightly larger, flat and tied with ribbon, she furrowed her brow as she opened it, this time alone and without the prying eyes of Gwen. 

Inside, the most gorgeous silk handkerchief she’d ever seen. Emerald green, pink and blues. Hand embroidered, it looked ridiculously expensive and — she checks the note tucked into the lid — sure enough, the same lopsided smiley face and her name in the same slightly slanted cursive.

She brushed the fabric between her fingers, smiling as she tucked it into her pocket. As she made her way to the library, juggling her bag and books in one arm she slipped her hand into her pocket and found herself sinking into the soft silken fabric of the handkerchief. 

Whoever had left it for her knew her well. Study group went well, she shared her notes with Steve and Thor who she really should have charged for tutoring but she enjoyed the oaf's company more than she cared to admit. Once it was finished she found a corner of the library that was void of other people and sunk into her creative writing work. 

“Hey,” a soft voice floated over her, warm breath on her neck as his face settled into the crook of her neck just far enough away from her face to be friendly. The familiar spicy scent of Bucky’s cologne warmed her chest and she didn’t dare turn her head. If she had her lips would come dangerously close to his and if she was brave, the kind of grace she wanted to be, she would kiss him. But inside she just froze, unable to act on that notion. 

“What you working on?” Bucky asked.

Pia licked her lips, willing her voice to sound normal before speaking. "A short story that's due at the end of this week. Have you started on yours?" she asked, giving him the side eye. God, he smells like cinnamon and bergamot... "It has to be three chapters long."

Bucky scrunched his nose in a grumpish manner, telling Pía everything she needed to know.

"You really shouldn't wait until the last minute." She giggled, watching him as he tossed himself into the seat next to her.

"I am learning that I am a man of few words. I am better at writing poetry and sometimes, I am better at writing nothing at all..." He trailed with a small smirk, eyeing Pía's pocket where the silk handkerchief stuck out.

She watched out of the corner of her eye as he set his laptop and notebook up next to hers. She suddenly felt lighter, a soft fluttering swarming around her stomach at his presence beside her. His hand brushed lightly against hers as he was doing so, the contact immediately sending a shock through her nerves. 

Bucky whispered a sorry as he brushed against her arm once more leaning down to grab something from his backpack. When he sat up, he peered over her screen again. 

“What’s that?” He asked with a curious smile. 

“I already told you, the short story.” Pía laughed softly. 

“No, no. Not that, pretty girl.” Bucky scooched closer to her, pressing his chest against her arm as he swung his arm across the back of her chair and lifted the other one. His warm breath fanned along her cheek and she could feel the heat creeping up her neck at the sensation. 

“That,” he said, pointing at the smaller document on the other side of the screen.

The fluttering in Pía’s stomach grew into an entire swarm of butterflies that decided to conjure up a tornado in her belly.  Pretty girl?! He was obviously just trying to sweeten her up because he’d not done his story, she decided as red heat crept across her chest and up her neck.

“It’s nothing, it’s…” she faltered at his raised eyebrow, his piercing blue eyes brightening with challenge.  “It’s just something stupid I’ve been working on,” she finished with a sigh.

“Poetry or prose?” He asked, so softly she found herself leaning a little closer.

“A poem,” she whispered and out of the corner of her eye she caught his look of expectation.

“Don’t leave me hangin’ Pía,” he drawled slowly, almost sensuously. “Read it for me?”

Taking in a shaky breath, Pía shook her head quickly, keeping her gaze plastered on her computer screen, “Bucky, it’s not... It’s not ready, I - I can’t…” 

The feeling of Bucky’s fingertips brushing along the side of her neck both calmed her and seemed to ignite the swarm in her stomach even more. His free hand came up and he placed the knuckle of his finger under her chin, turning her dark eyes to meet his blue ones. Did he have any idea what he was doing to her right now? 

“Please…” he whispered, tilting his head to the side and smiling softly, “It’s just me, Pía” 

Pía’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment as she let out her breath and chewed on her bottom lip, “Fine, but you cannot make fun of me and it’s not finished or perfected or..” 

“Pía,” he stopped her, moving to place his hand on top of hers, “I’m sure it’s amazing” 

Her eyes flickered around the library quickly before she turned back to her computer screen, doing her best not to think about the way Bucky's thumb was absentmindedly rubbing her knuckles. Pía cleared her throat and began reading in a voice just above a whisper: 

"It takes a lot

for her to be able to 

fly fully and freely

in the way she was meant to,

but oh how beautiful it is

when she embraces

the process

of transformation

knowing that she is

growing at the right pace

no matter who does or does not

look her way"

She could feel Bucky's eyes on her while she read, her voice shaky and nervous as she did so. It was the first time she'd shared something so vulnerable and personal with anyone. In a way though, Pía knew it felt right that it was Bucky who'd heard it for the first time and she allowed a small smile to tug at her lips, still too afraid to look his way. 

"That was..." he let out a soft breath, and squeezed her hand, Pía's eyes finally trailing over to him, "one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard."

She looked into his eyes, those mesmerizing blues and she knew that he was being completely genuine when he said that. How was it that he could be so kind, sweet and gentle towards her with what seemed like little effort? He somehow knew how to put her at ease with the simplest of words or the lightest touch. But those light touches also stirred something in her that she never had felt before, but she knew that she liked it. 

“Thanks, I’m not writing it for class. It was really just something I wanted to write for myself” she replied, giving him a small smile.

“Good,” Bucky replied, gaze fond as it fell to their joined hands. “Words like that? Those losers don’t deserve to be graced with them.” 

He flashed her that grin and Pía laughed, trying to keep quiet in the library by covering her mouth. But her breath caught in her throat and the humming silence around them was interrupted by a soft snort. 

“Oh my God,” she giggled, “nooo, that was so embarr—“ 

“Cute,” Bucky said, cutting her off as his own laughter filled the small space between them, rich and melodic to her ears. “That was cute, Pía. You’re cute.”

Pía pressed her face into the palm of her hand to hide the flush of her cheeks from his brazen stare. 

“Fury would have-” she started to deflate before him. 

“Fury believes to be strong, or to change, words to be straightforward and rough. What you wrote was…” Bucky stopped, his hand reaching out to her cheek. The ring on his thumb was cool against her skin as he pulled her hand away from her face. “Delicate,” he rubbed his thumb across her fingers looking down at where their hands were touching. His bottom lip pushed out, making his pouty lips painfully full, “but unbreakable and insightful in a way Fury could never understand and frankly never deserves to read. I barely deserved the Honor,” he peered up at her through thick lashes.

The levity of his words shook her deeply. To be seen so completely, and understood without explanation, was a feeling Pía had never felt. Bucky, by his soft voice and by his reverent expression, conveyed passion mirrored from her poetry. And by his proximity ignited a heat within her.

Pía’s eyes flicked down to his plump lips, fleetingly swift, and back up to his eyes, so full of adoration.  She swallowed hard, trying to find the words to thank him for his kindness.

“You sure have a way with words, Mr. Barnes,” she whispered softly. Pía watched as he glanced down at her lips, making her cheeks only heat up further. “Thank you.” 

"As I said before, I don't have many of them, but I know how to use them." He smirked, biting his lower lip as he did.

"I do really like your poem. I'm not kidding," Bucky assured her.

"I know you're not." Pía smiled warmly though still embarrassed and quickly pulled herself away from him back to her computer, not quite sure when she had fallen into his orbit. 

"It's got some nice imagery. It's like... Uhm, like, you're a butterfly coming out of a cocoon." He explained and Pía felt both corners of her lips turn up even wider.

"Yeah, that's... Well, that is what I was going for." She beamed as she closed the window her poem had been written on.

"You, on the other hand, should be going for a short story format, three chapters." She reminded him with a laugh.

Bucky threw his head back and groaned slumping against the back of his chair. He lifted his chin and looked back at her with a pout. Pía’s eyes drifted from his eyes to his lips and back. 

“You’re not gonna get off my back ‘til I do it are you?” The corner of his lip upturning slightly. 

She raised a brow at him, holding back the smile that tickled at her lips, “I mean, I don’t have  to remind you.”

“No no, I would love for you to keep reminding me. In fact, send me a text every hour on the hour to remind me. Please” he finished with a bat of his eyelashes as he tilted his head onto her shoulder.

“I’m not gonna do that,” Pía said, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

“But you gotta. Pleeease,” Bucky whined, his eyes large and pleading.

“I can’t.”  She protested with a chuckle, loving the weight of his head against her.

“Why not?” Bucky pouted, his pink lips glistening temptingly in the glow of the library lights.

“Because I don’t have your number,” she sighed with a gentle shrug.

Bucky's next plea was cut short by her words, and he narrowed his eyes, seemingly thinking it over. Outside of class and the couple times she was dragged to his apartment by Gwen so that she could see Sam, this had been the most open conversation they had that didn't fully involve class work. 

He hummed and reached across her laptop, picking up her phone and swiping it open. "You should really have a password on this thing," he commented as he navigated his way to the contacts, "any old person could just break in and give you their number." 

Pía scoffed, and furrowed her brows, unable to tame the grin that spread across her face as she watched him. 

Casually, he returned her phone to the same position it had been in when he grabbed it and Bucky turned his attention back to her. 

"Of course, you have my number, what are you talking about? I gave it to you months ago!" He gestured wildly, becoming over-dramatically offended at her words.

“Obviously it would have been the first thing we did,” she replied, playing along. 

“Obviously. I mean, how could you forget the moment you saw that incredibly handsome, really cool guy across the room and decided that you immediately had to get his number? Honestly, Pía.” 

“Me? You could have asked for my number!” 

“Potato, pot-ah-to.” Bucky grinned, “You got it now and I’m expecting those hourly texts.” 

“In your dreams, Barnes.” 

“Oh, but you already are, sweet Pía.” 

Pía rolled her eyes but she couldn’t help the way her stomach flipped. 

“Okay, Romeo. Why don’t you channel some of that sweet talking into your classwork. I was actually concentrating before you so rudely interrupted.”

They both went back to work. Pía stole glances of Bucky over her laptop. Every so often she would catch the depth of his ocean eyes staring back and the flush of her skin would return. That feeling found her throughout the weeks after more small gifts appeared at her door. Each one pulled her further into silly conspiracies of who it might be. 

“Steve?” Gwen rolled back on her bed and howled. “You think that walking beer keg left you those gifts?” 

“I don’t know,” Pía threw her arms up, the last gift had been the cutest drawing of a cat sleeping beneath an apple tree. Sketched on the back of a campus napkin. “He’s been weirdly nice these past few days!” 

“Have you been huffing gas in Chem 101?” Gwen sat up and looked at her. “A boy flashing smiles and flirting with you doesn’t mean he cares. Whoever is leaving these gifts… Pía they see you, this isn’t some frat boy crap.”

What a terrifying thought, Pía huffed, her chest suddenly too tight and her head dizzy. “I need some air,” she slipped on her sneakers and made her way to their front door. 

A good dose of fresh air and a walk around the campus gardens was just what Pía needed to clear the heavy feeling in her chest and to let her mind wander on thoughts that weren’t secret admirers.  Perhaps the beauty of nature would distract her and stop her thoughts from spiralling out of control, perhaps she would be inspired to write something beautiful.

Pía took a deep breath and turned the door knob.  The doorway would symbolize a cleansing threshold which, when passed through, would hopefully grant her the first feeling of relief from her thoughts.

Her first step was her last, as her sneaker toed a small box on the floor outside in the hallway.  It was small and light when she picked it up, made of a simple black matte card, and with a familiar note on top.  A cheeky smirking face penned on the note looked up at her and her chest tightened once more.  Her secret admirer had struck again.

“What’s wrong?” Gwen asked as she entered the room and Pía stood static in the open doorway with the box in her hand.

Pía looked at her friend, feeling overwhelmed and nervous.  What could it be?

She glanced back down at the smiley face that had been gracing her over the weeks, usually a warm welcome but today the swarm of thoughts that clouded her all came crashing back. With tentative fingers, she pried open the box letting out a small gasp as small wings came into view. 

"Pía, you look like you've seen a ghost," Gwen padded to her only to stop her steps as her friend turned around holding out an ornate origami royal blue butterfly that stared back at them, "a butterfly?" 

Her eyes shot up to Gwen as the realization hit her. It's like you're a butterfly... His words pierced through her. Bucky had been the only person she had shown her poem to. Otherwise, it lived untouched on her laptop, a secret only the two of them shared. 

She picked up the butterfly with her fingers, careful not to damage the wings or crease it and dropped the box as she palmed the delicate gift. Everything had been him. The chocolates, the handkerchief, all of it. All things that she had said in passing and not given a second thought to. He had remembered all of it. Pía turned on her heel and out of their apartment, practically floating down the hallway as her nerves buzzed beneath her skin like a bee hive. She reached his door and before she could stop herself or second guess it her hand raised and knocked twice.

As Bucky answered the door he met Pía’s eyes and they flitted down to her hands and widened in realization as she held the butterfly in her hands.

“It’s you. You’re the one that’s been giving me the gifts,” she stated. Her cheeks were red as she watched his eyes grow bigger. “James… speak…”

Her heart hammered against her ribcage as she watched his Adam's apple bob in his throat when he swallowed thickly. She felt as if the air had been knocked out of her lungs as she waited for him to say something, anything. 

"Bucky, please," Her voice just a faint whisper between them. 

"Pía I-" Bucky stopped and took a breath, seeming to steel himself with courage before he continued. 

"I'm in love with you, and I think I have been since- '' His words were stopped when Pía closed the distance between them and connected their lips in a kiss. She didn't know what came over her at that moment but Bucky made her feel safe, and right now she could live in his soft plump lips if she was allowed to. His hands quickly found her hips and steadied her as she rested her hand lightly on his chest. 

Pía pulled back from the kiss first, eyes still closed as she settled back on her feet, relishing in the stroke of his thumb against the sliver of skin beneath the hem of her shirt. Bucky leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers.

A moment of silence fell between them, as she paused to gather her thoughts. The pounding of her heart calmed and the white noise from the hallway faded into nothing the longer they stood there together. It felt as though a weight had been lifted off her and she felt more calm than she ever had since starting college. That's what Bucky did without even knowing it. He made her feel like she could take on the world despite her worries and insecurities. 

Pía brushed the tips of their noses together and breathed a laugh, "Sorry you uh, you were saying something," she whispered. 

"Was I? I don't remember that..." Bucky whispered back, pressing their lips together once more and taking a few steps back into his apartment and pushing the door shut behind them. 

"Bucky I - "

He hummed and shook his head, brushing their noses together once more, "one more..." he whined, "then we can talk..." He smiled into a third kiss, snaking his arms fully around her waist and pulling Pía flush with his body.

She melted into him, fingertips skimming over the soft cotton of Bucky’s t-shirt, across his broad shoulders until they threaded into his hair. The fluffy brown tufts already wild, even more so with her hand gripping it as Bucky deepened the kiss. 

Stumbling back, they traversed the apartment. Soft giggles and small gasps as they broke for air between kisses. Now that she’d started, she didn’t want to stop.

Pía tugged Bucky’s lower lip between her teeth, soothing the same spot with a swipe of her tongue. Bucky groaned and pulled back to meet her gaze.

He looked thoroughly debauched, hair mussed and lips kiss-swollen. Utterly gorgeous as he tilted his head thoughtfully, mouth curved in that lopsided smile. Just like the notes on her gifts. 

“I know we should talk, really wanna keep kissin’ you…” he murmured, stealing another gentle peck anyway.

“Kiss and talk,” Pía searched his face and cupped his chin gently in her hand. 

He moved them backward until his knees buckled against the side of the bed and he tugged her down with him. Pulling her into his lap and wrapping her thighs around his waist as he settled back against the wall. 

He pushed the hair from her face, nuzzling his nose against hers before kissing a languid line along her jaw. 

“Why?” She asked tipping her head back and leaning into his touch. 

“Why what?” His hands roved up her back, digging into her skin above her shirt. 

“Why the secret gifts?” She asked tilting her gaze back to his. 

“Because my clever girl,” he nipped at her skin, “they brought the sweetest smile to your face, one that made your eyes light up and your lips curl just a little more to the left. I had only planned the first but that day in class. Seeing that smile,” he kissed the corner of her mouth. “Hearing the noise you made enjoying them,” he whispered and all Pía’s restraint resolved. “I needed more.”

"You could have told me," she whispered, scrunching her nose at him as another beautiful grin spread across his lips and he shook his head. 

"Not," he leaned in pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth in a gentle kiss, "a," he paused brushing his lips against her own before kissing the other corner, "chance," the last word came out in a whisper as he kissed her slowly before pulling back carefully, silvery blue eyes studied her for a moment. Pía was sure her heart was bound to explode out of her chest with the look, "for once I got to see you be happy, really happy and not the mask that you share with the world when everyone is looking. I got to see the real Pía." His voice was low and gentle as his fingertips explored the exposed skin just above the collar of her shirt sending waves of goosebumps down her spine, "I was just lucky enough to be the one to make you smile like that."

Pia breathed deeply as she stared back at him. She couldn’t believe that he’d done all of this. Just for her. “But… Why me? I’m not anyone special, Bucky. Really…”

Bucky brought his hands to her face cupping her cheeks. 

"Pía, you are the most amazing person I have ever met," his thumb stroked her cheek tenderly as he kept his eyes focused on hers, "you are selfless and kind. You have a talent beyond words. And on top of that, you are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on."

Taking in a shaky breath, bringing her hands down, resting one on his chest once more and opening the other to look at the butterfly he'd crafted for her, "I didn't think you noticed me like that," she admitted, running her finger over the blue paper wings. 

"Pretty Pía," Bucky dipped his head and caught her gaze once more, "you are the only person I notice in every room I walk into" 

Pía reached over and gently placed the delicate butterfly onto Bucky's nightstand before returning her attention to him, placing her hands on either side of his neck and claiming his lips as hers again. She relished in the swarm of creatures that erupted deep in her belly and every moment of Bucky flashed through her mind. 

He saved her seat in class every week. Through busy lecture halls or late events, he always found her across a crowd, bringing that soft smile to her lips that she could never get rid of and she didn't know why. The way she sought comfort in the smallest brush of his hand when they were out at a club with Gwen and Sam. She felt safe. He made her feel safe. 

She pulled back and rested their foreheads together, her chocolate brown eyes tracing his soft features, "I didn't say it back..." she whispered. 

"Pía you don't have t- "

"But I do," she breathed out, "I do Bucky, I -"

"I love you," he completed her sentence for her. 

A breath escaped her lips and she shook her head, "that's my line," she grinned.

“I love-” she tried again only to be cut off but his mouth on hers. “James Buchanan Barnes so help me god,” she bit into his bottom lip softly. 

“I love you,” she finally got out, after an exhausting bout of kissing. “Bucky…” she played with the hem of his shirt with her hand.

���Pía we don’t-” he rested his hand on hers. 

She giggled, “I want to.” She unlinked from him and rolled the hem of her own shirt into her hands and pulled it up over her head. 

Bucky ran his hands through her messed up hair and cupped her face, “you’re beautiful.”

Heat crept up the back of her neck at his words, a sudden wave of embarrassment washed over her as her eyes fell from his. Bucky dipped his head to catch her gaze, "hey," he whispered, "you are beautiful," he reassured as if he could feel the nerves radiating off of her, "can I show you?" 

Her brows knit together, not understanding. 

Bucky chuckled softly, "my sweet Pía, can I show you how beautiful you are to me?" His hands roamed up her back, slow and snail paced but leaving trails of fireworks on her skin. Pía nodded and in a swift motion he lifted her from his lap and rolled them over on his tiny bed forcing a soft giggle to leave her lips. He settled between her legs, one hand gripped firmly around her thigh while he dipped his head down and began kissing her collarbone, trailing his lips to each soft point that poked from her skin until he began moving down her chest, kissing softly while he moved but his eyes never leaving her own as soft quick breaths left her lips.

Pia moaned as her hands found his hair, running through the soft locks. She felt as he trailed his tongue along the underwire of her bra, making her shiver. 

“Can I?” He asked softly. “Let me see all of you, my beautiful butterfly.”

"Please," she whined. 

Bucky pressed a kiss to her sternum as he trailed his fingers up her side. Her back arched at the contact as his hand worked the clasp of her bra. With it undone, he brought his hand forward and slid her bra slowly off, eyes never leaving hers. 

Her breath quickened at the sudden exposure, nipples pebbling under the cold air in the room. 

Bucky's lips found hers in a kiss equal parts soft and wanting. When he pulled back he brushed his nose against hers, "are you okay?" he whispered against her lips. 

Pía nodded with a smile, "I'm ok, I trust you." 

"Careful, you might make me fall even more in love with ya." He pressed another kiss to her lips, "If you say stop, we stop. Ok pretty girl?"

Nodding her head again, Pía placed her hands on Bucky's arms and traced his face with her eyes, "Bucky, I want this, I want you," her fingers trailed down his abdomen and gripped his shirt, helping him pull it off. 

Her head felt dizzy with emotions and every nerve in her body felt like it was on fire at the mere thought of Bucky's talents. Every other thought melted out of her mind and focused solely on the beautiful man hovering above her, worshiping her like she was the only girl in the world. With Bucky's lips trailing down her neck, Pía let a small whine escape her lips as she bucked her hips up into him. 

"That goes both ways you know," she panted, "if you don't want this, if you want to stop, we'll stop, okay?" 

Bucky nodded and nipped at the skin of her shoulder, "I know sweetheart, " he mumbled, softly grazing his thumb over her nipple.

She pressed her lips to the hollow of his shoulder, kissing and nipping at his skin as he massaged her breast with the palm of his hand. 

He used his knee to push up on the inside of her thigh, widening her legs further. He kissed the soft skin of her neck trailing down over the swell of her chest to her stomach. His lips memorized the shape of her hips as his hand wrapped around her back and lifted her into his face. 

His fingers curled into the hem of her pants and with a little help he was able to get them down. She giggled at his struggle, the fabric tight around her calves but snapped free eventually leaving her only in her underwear. 

“Are you laughing at me?” He huffed sitting back on his haunches. The question was husky and his hands ran up her legs until he hovered over her and kissed her breathless.

Bucky pulled back tugging gently on her bottom lip as he did so. She stared back up at him, her lip finding home between her teeth as he moved down to her chest again wrapping his lips around her still pebbled nipple forcing a gasp to leave her. A smug smile graced his features as he watched her. Pía shook her head tilting it back into the pillow as his hands began to roam lower on her hips, "I would never," she teased breathlessly. 

He hummed against her skin sending delicious vibrations through her before he released the sensitive nub, "somehow I don't believe that." Bucky grinned. She sucked in a breath as his fingers gently caressed her folds over her clothed cunt. Pía mewled at the feeling, wanting more and less barriers between them. 

"Bucky," she moaned as his index finger found her clit over the lace of her underwear creating the best feeling. 

He settled between her legs again, one hand cupping her breast and massaging gently at the same tortuously slow pace as his other hand. "You marvel me my sweet girl, do you want more?" He asked after a moment and in between gentle kisses and nips on her hips and inner thighs. 

Pía nodded, her eyes sliding closed with every new sensation Bucky was giving her. She felt his hand pull away for a moment forcing her gaze down to him. 

"I know your sounds are beautiful and telling me everything I need to know, but I need words love, tell me," he pressed a trail of kisses along the hem of her underwear, "do you want more?" 

She sucked in a breath, "god yes," her hands found his hair, raking through the mussed chestnut locks, "please Bucky."

He met her eyes before smiling at her. Bucky grasped the waistband of her lacy underwear between his teeth and pulled them off  her hips. 

Once the piece of cloth was on the floor, Bucky trailed his lips along the skin of her inner thigh before he gently blew air across her damp cunt. 

Watching her back arch, Bucky finally lowered his head and licked a long slow stripe through her folds. 

“Bucky,” she whimpered. “Please don’t tease me.”

Bucky let out a low chuckle, his breath fanning above her clit as his lips hovered over it. "Me? I would never tease you," he winked before circling her clit with his tongue. 

Pía bucked her hips against him, letting out a moan as he took her clit between his lips and sucked. Bucky rolled her nipple between his thumb and index finger as he swung her leg over his shoulder with his other hand. Tugging softly at her clit, sending jolts of electricity through her nerves. 

Her hands found purchase in his hair, fingers interlacing with his soft curls tugging on them softly. A silent beg for more. Bucky teased her entrance with his finger, peering up through his lashes, asking for permission.

"Please Bucky," Pía whimpered, moving her hips against his hand, "please..." 

A playful smirk tugged at Bucky's plump lips as his tongue moved along his bottom lip, taking in her slick for his own. Slowly, he pushed his finger inside her, pulling a deep moan from her chest and causing her to tighten her grip on his hair. 

"I've got you, beautiful girl," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her clit and circling it once more with his tongue, as he curved his finger inside her, "I love all of your pretty little sounds"

His appraisal only made it that much easier for her to relax against him. She felt weightless under his touch. The pressure built between her legs as she tugged tightly on whatever hair she could get ahold of. 

Bucky groaned from the pull and lifted his head to look at her. His eyes full of fire as he slipped another finger deep into her core.

"Oh my god," she breathed. The cord in her stomach quickly becoming tightly wound as he worked her. Everything set her on edge, his lips graced her thighs again nipping and sucking at anything that he could reach, "Bucky, please don't stop," she managed between heavy breaths. 

He planted a kiss over her clit, forcing her hips up once more sending her straight over the edge into euphoria. Bucky continued to curl his fingers inside her, pressing on the spot within her that made the rest of the world disappear around her. Nothing but the sounds of her pleasure and Bucky's approving groans filled the room. 

Bucky slowed his movements, pressing one last kiss to her overstimulated clit before moving to rest above her, his elbows propping him up. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, carding her fingers through his hair as she pulled him down for a kiss. Tasting herself on his lips sent another wave of want through her as he ran his tongue along her bottom lip. She parted her lips granting him access as their kiss became needy and almost full of teeth. Pia ran her nails down his back, feeling the muscle ripple beneath her touch until she found the hem of his jeans. 

She pulled back to catch her breath and watched as his eyes filled with fire and lust raked over her features as if he was trying to memorize the planes of her face. "I need you," she whispered, lifting her head gently to press her lips to his once more. He nodded against her before moving off of the bed. Pia watched him, bringing the knuckle of her index finger to her lips and biting down to curb her enthusiasm as she watched him through her lashes begin to remove his pants.

Pía’s eyes were locked on Bucky’s hands as he unbuttoned his jeans and slid them over his hips, showing a very noticeable bulge underneath his boxers. 

He smirked at her and licked his lips, watching as her eyes widened. Bucky chuckled softly before he slid his boxers down and let them hit the floor before stepping out of them.

“Holy…”

Bucky returned to his spot between her legs, slowly pumping his length in his hand as he lowered himself. Hovering above her, he kissed her, taking her top lip between his own as his tongue raked the roof of her mouth. Pía moaned into the kiss as she dragged her nails down his chest, longing to feel his heart beating against hers as they moved together in perfect harmony. 

He lifted his lips from hers, sliding his tongue playfully across her lips straight to the tip of her nose earning a giggle from Pía in response. 

"Can I, sweets?" He asked, moving a stray strand of hair from her face. She smiled in response and nodded her head slowly as she brought her thumb up to his lip, Bucky placed a tender peck to her finger as he lined himself up with her entrance. Pía pressed her hand against his chest, grounding herself with the steady beat of his heart as he pushed into her slowly, eyes locked with hers.

Her head fell back into the pillow and her eyes fluttered closed, their moans mixing together as he bottomed out inside her. Bucky kept his hips still, allowing her to adjust to him, peppering soft kisses up her throat. Pía quickly relaxed around him and ran her fingernails into his hair, bringing his gaze up to look at her. 

"I'm okay Bucky, you can move," she reassured him, bringing her lips up to meet his. 

Bucky nodded his head, rubbing their noses together and slowly started rocking his hips into her, swallowing her sounds with another kiss. Pía's dark eyes locked with Bucky's and she brought her bottom lip between her teeth as she attempted to muffle more moans as they dripped from her. 

"Don’t..." He whispered, bringing a hand up and cupping her cheek, "don't silence yourself from me sweetheart, I need to hear you," he rasped. 

Pía felt herself clench around Bucky's cock as it hit perfectly against her sensitive spot and she allowed a whimper to leave her lips, "god Bucky..."

"That's it pretty girl," Bucky groaned, his hand sliding down to rest just below her neck and over her heart, feeling her just as she did him. His pace picked up forcing another slew of moans and soft prayers to fall from her lips, "god you sound gorgeous," he dipped his head nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck, his lips finding her pulse point and sucking softly. 

It felt like her body was on fire in the best way, every nerve ending alight with pleasure as he moved within her. She moved her hands to his back, holding him to her as another wave of pleasure started to crest within, feeling herself flutter around him every time he hit that spot within her.

Pía felt him slip a hand between them, his thumb finding her clit applying light pressure as he rubbed circles on her sensitive nub. The touch sent a brand new wave of pleasures through her body making her toes curl as she locked her legs across his hips. 

Bucky dragged his wet kiss-swollen lips up to the shell of her ear and whispered, "I can feel you my precious Pía. Let go for me sweetheart, I'm right there with you, I've got you."

"Bucky," Pía whined, clenching herself around him and pulling a deep growl out of his chest, "I'm gonna- " 

Picking up his pace, Bucky's thrusts became quick and uncontrolled, the knot in Pía's belly tightening the faster he went. She felt every nerve in her body vibrating as their moans echoed out into Bucky's room, no doubt being heard from the hallway, but she didn't care. Nothing mattered but her and Bucky. 

"God," he moaned into her skin, "come for me sweetheart, I'm right here," Bucky's hand reached up, entwining his fingers with hers and squeezing her hand. 

Suddenly, the fire deep within her erupted, her vision going white as her orgasm overtook her whole existence. Bucky's mouth collided with hers swallowing her final moans and taking in every inch of her climax with her. His hips rocked quickly a few more times erratically against hers before his own orgasm came over him. He bent and buried his face into her neck, whispering soft praises into her skin as they worked through their finish.

Pía could feel her body almost trembling from the release, her legs still tightly wound around his hips even when he lifted his head to kiss her again. Their chests heaved as he pulled back, tufts of curls stuck to his forehead as he gave her that same lopsided grin he drew on the notes he left. It was sweet and made her smile up at him with nothing but adoration. She lifted her fingers, the exhaustion in her body apparent when her hand felt heavy but still she pushed back the fallen pieces of hair from his eyes. 

"That was..." 

"Perfect," he finished for her, his hands finding her thighs to help ease them off from around him. Bucky gently pulled from her, planting kisses down her body and forcing giggles to escape. 

"Where are you going?" She smirked watching him as he moved to the ensuite bathroom, appreciating  his naked form before he moved behind a door only to come back a moment later with a washcloth in his hand. 

Bucky grinned sitting down on the edge of the bed, "can I?" he asked, holding the washcloth up. 

She gnawed gently on her bottom lip and nodded as he moved to clean up the mess between her legs, his lips trailing over her knee and leaving kisses on her thighs as he moved. She had never felt anything so intimate before.

He sat up straight once he finished, his right hand caressing her calf while he threw the washcloth to the hamper across the room with the other. He tilted his head back Pía's way and looked at her with slightly hooded eyes and a boyish smile, making her heart feel like it was about to burst from the sight. 

"Do you need anything right now, pretty girl? Water, food, cuddles?" He asked with a sleepy wiggle of his brows,  tracing figures absentmindedly on her leg. 

Pía giggled, "I'm good with the first two for now, thank you but I would love some cuddles. You know, since your offering and all." 

She watched as he took his bottom lip between his teeth, biting back his growing smile as he crawled back in beside her on the bed. He threw his arm across her hips and pressed a kiss to her lips before settling himself on his back and bringing Pía flush to his body, hitching her leg up over his. 

"I was hoping you'd say that, I love to cuddle." 

"Lucky me," she laughed, nuzzling her face in the crook of his neck. 

"I'm the lucky one, Pía. Thank you for allowing me to love you." he voiced softly. Laying a kiss to her head as the tips of his fingers danced along her back while his other hand came to rest atop hers on his chest. 

Pía raised her head, her brown eyes glossy searching for his sea of blue, committing them to memory and thanking the universe that she'd be able to enjoy that view everyday now. She bit the corner of her lip, eyes flitting across his features, "I love you, Bucky Barnes." she whispered. 

His hand came up to rest on the back of her neck as he pulled her lips back to his, a kiss just as needy and meaningful as the last. The soft rake of his thumb along her neck melting her body further into his. With a brush of his nose to hers he pulled back, looking at her with a loving stare. 

"You just wait 'til I make you breakfast tomorrow," he winked. Pía laughed and smacked his chest playfully earning a feigned hurt stare from Bucky. 

"I like my bacon extra crispy, Barnes." she stated, with a serious face. 

"Anything you wish, my precious Pía."

[buckyalpine]

So for the Untouched AU have you thought about any of these scenarios? Film themselves having sex, using whipped cream or chocolate, try getting tied up (either one of them but y/n would be my choice), give y/n a nipple-only orgasm, role playing, try edging, order a sex toy online after they search the site for things they wanna try together, tease each other all week with sexting during class, sending pics/videos to each other. I know. Just a few thoughts…🙄

18+

Bucky x f reader (Steve's sister,  if you’re like me, add the caveat of being an adopted sister)

Sex tapes with our Untouched babies? The answer to this is hell yes. These babies are learning everything together. Nudes. Edging. Sex tapes included. Can be read as a standalone.  

Warnings: Smutty smut, fluffy fluff, shy reader, sending nudes, sex tapes

The first nudes 

It started off with a few sexy pics. 

He’d send you a pic of him in his grey sweats after the gym. There’s no way to hide his boner, the outline of his cock straining against the fabric. 

Shirtless pics. 

Fresh out the shower, towel hanging low pics. 

He didn't want to pressure you to send anything so he doesn’t even ask, happy to tease and tempt you instead. Quite honestly he regretted sending you anything in the first place because the second you sent him something with a little extra cleavage he had to hold his school bag against his lap to contain his boner.

The first time he sent you nudes was after he’d spent the whole day struggling to keep his hands to himself after you’d paraded around the house in a tiny sundress. He’d come over to play video games, gritting his teeth each time you came over to you brothers room to bring up their pizza and drinks, petting his hair on your way out. He couldn’t focus on a damn thing, his mind clouded with your bare thighs and the glance he got of your tiny panties from where he was sitting, only coming to his senses when Steve threw the controller at his head. 

At least keep it in your goddamn pants when I’m around punk

As soon as he was home, he pulled his pants off, grabbing his phone, showing off his leaking cock, throbbing, the tip glistening without him touching himself.

My Bucky: See what you do to me? 

Babydoll: OMG BUCKY  🙈

My Bucky: It’s fucking leaking sweets, fuck I need you

Babydoll: Serves you right, perving all day  🙄

M Bucky: You’re the one who teased me, come make it go away  🥺️

You giggled, your face heating up, feeling a little frisky, butterflies erupting around your tummy when he sent you another pic, this time with his balls, legs spread. You pulled your dress up, pulling your panties to the side, giving him the perfect view of your glistening cunt, your heart racing after you hit send. 

Babydoll: Take care of me first 

My Bucky: God Damn.

My Bucky: Fuck babydoll

My Bucky: Not fair, let me come over doll, please?

5 minutes later

My Bucky: I’m outside.

That started it. Bucky didn’t hesitate to show you exactly what you did to him and how hard he was, always ready to show you exactly how turned on he was for you. Study room. His car. Bed. It was fine until he’d nearly gotten caught twice, always scrambling to yank his pants back up, the tell tale blush on his face giving him away. 

“Bucky had his dick out again”

“For fucks sake Barnes” 

“You’re both something else, I swear” 

“This is why we call you Bucknasty” 

“You nasty hoe” 

“Shut up Sam”

Your nudes drove Bucky feral and he’d nearly came in his pants the first time you sent him something in lingerie. He whimpered as soon as he opened the message, struggling not to palm himself, his eyes nearly crossing seeing you encased beautifully in the dark lace, the sheer material hardly covering your nipples and your perfect cunt. He may or may not have left class to rub one out, but it didn’t do much, his cock continued to twitch until he had you spread out on his bed. Your nudes are precious gold to him and he treasures every single one with his life. His beautiful doll in her bare form, all just for him. 

The first time edging 

“Sweet girl, please?” 

“You’re pretty when you beg baby” 

You were on top of Bucky, winding your hips down on him, watching his beautiful fucked out face, his skin flushed, lip chewed from how hard he was focusing. He had a bruising grip on your thighs, his cock throbbing from how badly he wanted to cum. You had made him hold it, bringing him close to the edge only to stop his orgasm right at the tip, his cock swollen and desperate. 

“F-fuck, I can’t y/n” He nearly sobbed, squeezing his eyes shut. You felt your stomach clench, watching his perfect face contort, his brows furrowed, trying so hard to force himself from cumming. “Baby, s’too much, I wanna cum, let me cum, I can’t hold it” 

“Y-yes you can” You continued to bounce on his cock, your high pitched whines making it harder for him to hold off his orgasm. You’d been curious about edging for a while, wanting to give Bucky the most intense pleasure of his life, not realizing it’d be just as amazing for you. Your slick dripped all over his crotch, his balls covered in your arousal. 

“C’mon, I know you wanna cum, let’s cum together baby, please” He pleaded with you, choking at the way your pussy squeezed and fluttered around him, your own orgasm waiting to snap. You whimpered, gasping when he snaked his hand to play with your clit, a pornographic moan slipping from your lip as he rubbed perfect circles. 

“Does that feel good doll? You gonna cum with me?”  

“FUCK BUCKY” You gave into the pleasure he toyed with, your muscles tensed as he started to fuck up into you from underneath, his cock growing harder. “I-shit-

“Let go with me doll, cum with me, I got you” Bucky grabbed your hips, slamming you down onto his cock while he thrusted upwards, his back nearly arching off the bed. You moaned, your body giving way and falling limp, letting him pound from underneath you, the sounds of skin slapping growing louder. 

“I’m gonna cum Bucky!” You started to flutter around his cock, your juices soaked him again as you came on his cock. Bucky let out a strained moan feeling you squeeze him, his pace growing sloppy as he pushed in as deep as he could. 

“Fuckffuck thankyouthankyou, oh god, gonna c- AH FUCKKK” Bucky wrapped his arms around you, stilling as he cock throbbed, cum pumping into your pussy while he whined and whimpered under you. He refused to move afterwards, keeping his cock warm inside you while you both cuddled under his sheets, his face buried into the crook of your neck. 

“Bubba, you have to pull out at some point” You giggled, playing with his hair while he shook his head, keeping his flushed face hidden. 

“Sensitive” He whispered, staying inside your warmth, a new idea coming to mind, “We should try rope next time” 

The first time using rope 

“You sure you okay with this bubba?” Bucky checked the ties again, making sure they were comfortable around your wrists, his thumb stroking your cheek while you looked up at him with love and adoration. No matter what it was he wanted to do, your comfort had always come first. 

That being said, something about having you tied up had made Bucky extra feral. He loved the way you trusted him, your pretty doe eyes shying away from him while you were bare in his bed. 

“You-you look so pretty tied up like this for me baby” Bucky whispered, kissing your lips sweetly while you whimpered, squeezing your thighs together, your clit throbbing. You felt a shiver, naked on his bed while he still had his clothes on, admiring your pretty form as if you were a present just for him. 

He stripped his clothes off while keeping his eyes locked with yours, crawling onto the bed and tossing your legs apart, licking his lips before kissing your inner thigh. 

“Gonna let me play with this pretty pussy baby?” Bucky didn’t waste a second, his tongue laving and drinking every bit of your sweetness, loving the way your squirmed each time he flicked at your clit. 

“Fuck Bucky!” Your back bowed off the bed as he latched onto your clit, suckling, practically nursing off you, moaning as he kept his lips sealed around your sensitive bud. He pulled away from you, untying the rope, just to manhandle you and shove your face into the mattress with your ass in the air. You yelped, feeling his hand spank your ass, grabbing both hands and tying them again, holding onto your wrists as leverage as he brought his cock to your entrance.

“Scream for me baby” He gave you a wolfish grin, glancing at the mirror that was off to the side of the bed, the more you squirmed, the more his cock leaked. “Can’t run from my cock now so take it” He shoved his cock into you, pounding into you, letting his balls hit your clit with each thrust, grunting and groaning. 

“S’too much” Your eyes rolled back, the coil in your belly winding tighter as he pressed his hand to your shoulder blades making his cock his deeper. You cried out, your pussy squelching, your juices making a mess on his thighs. “I’m gonna cum Bucky, pleasee-” 

“Fuck, you gonna cum without me even touching you baby? Don’t even need me to rub that pretty pearl of yours, you gonna cum just from my cock fucking you? You can take it baby, you’re my good girl” Bucky’s voice was low, nearly breathless, his cock throbbing, reeling over how the rope felt as he held onto your tied hands, his perfect beautiful doll, helplessly crying over his cock. “Hold it baby, fuckin’ hold it” 

“Wanna cum James, p-please, wanna cum” You couldn’t even hold it any more, your pussy already starting to flutter. Your moans were muffled against the sheets, your trembling body a sign you were close. 

“Together, jus-jus’ fuckin hold it sweets, that’s it, my good girl, my good fuckin’ girl, m’gonna fill you up okay?” Bucky rubbed up and down your spine, his head thrown back. “Gonna make you feel so good, give you all the cum you want babydoll, cum now baby, cum right fucking now!”

“Give me your cum James” You cried out, your orgasm ripping through you right on his command. Your pussy was desperate to milk every drop of his cum, squeezing and pulsing around him making it harder for him to move. 

“Oh fuck, you have no idea, I’m gonna give it to you doll, gonna give you so much, so much, SO FUCKING MUCH FUCK-” Bucky slammed into you, grabbing your hips and holding still as his cock throbbed, desperately moaning as he filled you up. He untied your wrists, still panting and sensitive from his climax, pulling you up to cuddle up with him. 

“Did I do good Bucky” You mumbled against him, your face buried in his chest, nearly falling asleep instantly at his ministrations. 

“Did so good for me my angel, so perfect” He stroked your hair, kissing your face while you nuzzled against him, his hands gently massaging the indents of the rope of your wrists. “My perfect good girl”

The first sex tape 

Bucky can't help himself, wanting to capture some of those intimate moments with you for just his viewing pleasure. It didn’t matter if he was making soft love to you or railing the fuck out of you, he wanted to go back to every single moment and capture how perfect you were for him, how perfect you looked together. He wanted to see how gorgeous you looked when you were filled up with his cock, how your pretty face contorted with pleasure with him deep inside you. 

You knew he wanted something when he spent the whole day being needy, trailing behind you like a lost puppy. 

“Wanna make a sex tape with you” He whispered, his cheeks blushing. 

"Buckyyy" You covered your face when he brought it up, your cheeks heating up at the idea; you weren’t against it but you still felt self conscious. Bucky pulled you into his lap, cupping your cheek to make you look at him, kissing you before speaking again. 

"Promise no one else will see it sweets, we won't do it if you're no comfortable with it though" He smiled softly and you knew he meant it. Not once had he ever pressured you into doing something you didn't like.

He waited for the day where you felt comfortable. His whole body buzzed with anticipation, noting that you were much more shy, staying curled up in bed, trying to cover yourself up. Bucky propped his phone up, letting it rest on the dresser while he crawled into bed, draping his body over yours, keeping you covered. 

“You sure you okay with this pretty baby?” He whispered, his nose gently bumping against yours. You felt your face heat up, nodding and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I’m sure”

“Can-can I eat you out first?” 

Your eyes grew wide for a moment before you said yes, your breath hitching in your throat as he slowly trailed kisses down your body, starting at your neck, stopping to take your nipples into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around, nipping them before continuing down. His broad shoulders still kept you partially covered, his sculpted ass flexing as he grinded against the mattress, moaning as soon as his tongue tasted your slick. He came back up, crashing his lips against yours letting you taste yourself, moaning when he felt your legs come to wrap around his waist.

“How do you want it baby” His cock brushed against your pussy, the tip leaking, “You want it soft or hard?” 

“Soft please” You whispered, biting your lip as he smiled, kissing your forehead while lining his cock up, rubbing the tip, letting it catch your hole. His eyes rolled back feeling you fluttering already, his whole body keeping you covered. You relaxed under his body weight, gasping as he filled you up, your pussy fluttering over the roll of his hips. You whimpered, trying to keep your moans down, your nails scratching down his back instead, pleasure overwhelming you. 

“Let me hear you sweet girl” He whispered, trailing kisses down your neck, sucking the sensitive flesh, coaxing a whine out of you. “You sound so beautiful when you moan for my cock baby”  You couldn’t help but cry out for him as he sped his thrusts up, bringing his knee up, his cock rubbing and kissing that sensitive spot deep inside you.

“Jamesss” You were finding it harder and harder to silence yourself, soft moans starting to slip from your lips. Bucky’s hands came to lace with yours, pinning them on the bed, squeezing them as he barely pulled out, keeping you full of him. 

“You feel my cock deep inside you baby?” Bucky’s intense gaze made you feel shy again, overwhelmed with the pleasure he was giving you, how intimate the moment was, how you felt him everywhere, all over. 

“So deep B-Bucky” Your voice was shaky, struggling to keep yourself from tipping off the edge, gripping onto his hands instead. 

“I know princess, doing so good for me, you make me feel so good” Bucky kissed you until he had to come up for air, panting and resting his forehead onto yours. “Do I make you feel good babygirl? Does my cock make you feel good?”

All you could do was moan, unable to formulate words as he fucked you harder, is thrusts pushing all the way into you. Bucky groaned at the way your jaw was slack, your body trembling under him, thighs squeezing him, you were close, trying so hard not to cum. 

“You like my cock in your pussy huh angel? Look at how beautiful you are right now doll, Love making you feel good doll, wanna make you feel good every. single. day” Bucky’s pace started to grow sloppy, his breaths getting heavier. 

“Gonna watch this over and over and make myself cum every time I can’t have you pretty girl” 

The thought of Bucky watching your sex tape while touching himself was too much, heat coursing through your body, your pussy starting to suck him deeper. 

“FUCK JAMES” 

“That’s right baby, say my name, wanna hear you scream for me when I make you cum, c’mon, scream my name baby, let go” Bucky picked up his back, moaning into your neck, struggling to hold his own pleasure off until you came first. “Cum baby, m’not gonna last” 

“J-JAMESS” You sobbed, your back bowing off the bed, pressing against his chest, your eyes rolling back. Your let out a pornographic moan, cumming all over his cock, your slick gushing out of you as he continued to fuck you through your high. 

“Gonna cum for you baby, take it sweet heart, take my cum, take it, take it- oh fucckkk” All the muscles in his body were pulled taut, stilling as his cock throbbed shooting his load inside you. He cuddles with you for a bit, still staying inside you before finally pulling out, making sure he still covers up most of you before grabbing his phone to stop recording. 

After the first sex tape, you get a little more comfortable and also more frisky. Bucky records just about anything whenever he gets the chance.

His favorite tapes are the ones where he can see your face and see the way you look at him. It makes him feel butterflies, blushing as he looks back, your pretty eyes always shyly gazing at him even when he doesn’t notice. 

His absolute favorite video is the one from the shower where theres so much steam, it’s a little fuzzy but it makes the moment so much more intimate. He has your legs around his waist, water dripping off your bodies, your back against the shower wall. Your moans echo and bounce off the walls significantly louder, mixed with the sound of the shower.

He also has a few prized ones that he will guard with his life. Ones that would make him cum without touching himself. 

“Smile for the camera my little slut” Bucky’s voice all you can hear, his phone focused on you while you lay on his bed, your hair messy and tousled, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body. 

You blink up with doe eyes, your tongue darting up to lick up the cum dripping from your lips, his load covering your face. You run your finger through the mess he’s made, sucking it off, giving him an innocent giggle. Bucky groaned, panning the camera down to capture the way hes stroking his spent cock, growing hard again because you look so sexy covered in him. 

“Got my dick all sensitive baby, made me cum so hard” He smirked, bringing his semi hard cock to your lips, pushing the tip for you to suckle on. “That’s it, my good girl, my little cum princess drinking up like a good girl” 

You whined, still playing with the cum that covered you, letting him record the way you took his load, coating your fingers and fingering yourself, rubbing your clit after. Bucky spread your legs apart, capturing the way your fluttering pussy dripped onto the bed, your cream messy between your thighs. He makes you hold his phone so you can record the way he cleans the mess up, his chestnut hair between your legs, arms holding you down. 

You can hardly focus on keeping the camera steady but you get every single minute of the way he moans and greedily licks up the mixed arousal pouring out of you. You nearly loose your mind at the way he lets his eyes roll back, telling you how perfect you taste together, crawling up to kiss you, making your more messy than before. 

“Let’s make a sequel?” 

Tags: @glxwingrxse  @hungryyeyess  @sebsgirl71479  @beabutterfly987  @teambarnes72  @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass  @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan​  @buggy14  @whimsyplaty92  @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec​   @pono-pura-vida​   @moonlightreader649​ @brooklynscherry-z​  @elle14-blog1​ @justsebstan​ @littlelightnings​ @psychomanniac-blog​  @happyt0exist​   @emmabarnes​  @bethyruth​ @matchat3a​  @cjand10​   @getwellsoontana​  @cherryschaos​   @lokisasgardianvampirequeen​  @ashenc-blog​  @buckybarnessimpp​   @potatothots​  @goldylions​  @high-functioning-lokipath​ @morganemorganite-blog​  @kingfleury​   @peaches1958​   @spiderman-stilinski​   @peaceinourtime82​  @gublur​   @wintersmelodie​ @geeky-politics-46​   @lolawassad​  @almosttoopizza​   @a-poor-gryffindork​ @alternativeprincess​   @buckycallsmeaslut​    @kamaria-sweet-writes​  @charmedbysarge​    @xnorthstar3x​  @kryoee7​ @alina02​  @gh0stgurl​    @polishprincess999​ @jessybarnes​ @alltheficsiwant​ @chemtrails-club​  @eralen​   @perdidosbucky-yyo​  @clqrosmgc​      

[lovelybarnes]

Football and Flirting Masterlist

College football star Bucky Barnes is immediately enamored when he meets you. You? Not so much. But Bucky Barnes is determined. And the teetering-on-cynical views that you hold for relationships are about to realize exactly how determined he is.

based on this request

Football and Flirting

Found Waldo: Bucky searches for you in the crowd after a big game (request)

(Coming Soon)

(Coming Soon

[buckrecs]

2023 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘 4

masterlist | ✨- fav fics | status - updating

All Of Them are COMPLETED Series

1. Finding Home by @jobean12-blog

Bucky x Reader Animal Rescue AU

You meet Bucky while he’s out walking Alpine in the city. It’s love at first sight and to make it even better he just opened up an Animal Rescue, Shelter to Solider.  But will his past stand in the way of him finally finding his home. 

2. Welcome Home… Soldat? by @winterarmyy

Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader

Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.

3. Winter Makes Ice by @subwaysurf45

Bucky x Hydra Experiment!Reader

you’re captured after a brawl at the Avengers building, Bucky and others must save you before Hydra makes a new Winter Soldier out of you, Bucky has given up that title.

4. ice ice baby by @endless-summer-soldier

College Hockey Player!Bucky x College Figure Skater!Reader

Bucky is a college hockey player, Y/N is a figure skater without a partner. What's happens when these two opposites start sharing the ice...

5. Right + Click + Save by @syntheticavenger

Bucky x Reader

Working from home has it’s perks, especially when it comes to helping a technologically unsavvy super soldier try to navigate a dating site.

6. Lonely Night by @marvelouslizzie

Roommate!Bucky x Reader

Your crush on your roommate gets out of hand. His smile ruins you in a way you never expected.

7. Like Breathing by @bucky-fricking-barnes

Bucky x Shifter!Reader

Bucky’s life in Cove is far from perfect, mostly because Cove’s residents want nothing more than to scare him away. Luckily for you, Bucky isn’t easily scared off.

8. Where Dreams Go To Die by @insomniumstella

Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Steve’s silly joke happened to inspire the best, or possibly the worst, idea Wanda had ever come up with — send James Buchanan Barnes and y/n on an all-expenses-paid honeymoon in Hawaii. the problem? they cannot stand to be around each other.

9. Make the Wave by @lostgirlmuseum

Bucky x Reader

You invite both your best friend and your boyfriend to a three-day weekend getaway at a beach resort. This trip was meant to be relaxing, but tensions and jealousies rise as both Miles and Bucky fight for your attention. 

[marvelouslizzie]

One More Night

Summary: You and Bucky Barnes are fuck buddies for a while. The problem is you have feelings for him but you don't think he reciprocates and it just makes it impossible to continue your relationship. Little did you know how much he wants you and how hard he's trying to keep it casual.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: +18, friends with benefits, idiots in love, unspoken feelings, miscommunication/misunderstandings, angst with happy ending, unprotected sex, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 3.4K

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

It is one of those days when you feel absolutely worthless. It wasn’t something you felt often before but now…. It is starting to feel like your new normal. You know it’s your fault, and it just makes you feel even worse. You let this happen when you let Bucky Barnes walk into your life without any consequences. Now he just has a free pass to destroy you anytime he wants. 

It was supposed to be just fun. Something casual because you know he has no intention of settling down. Especially not with you. Not that he said any of those words but he doesn’t need to. You just know it. 

He’s one of the popular guys in your college. It’s not surprising considering how handsome and charming he is. He’s also talented and hard-working. He takes school seriously unlike a lot of people around you. So when it comes to his free time, he just wants to have some fun, no strings attached and you were fine with this arrangement. You wanted to be close to him and this is the price: Your heart breaks every time. 

You don’t blame him but you definitely blame yourself because you put yourself in this position. If you weren’t so pathetic, you could simply say no and this regularly hooking-up arrangement of yours would have ended. Yet you never said no and he never stopped coming back to you. Probably because it’s convenient, you can’t come up with any other reason. Like who says no to an easy fuck, right? That is what you are. An easy fuck. Still, it’s breaking your heart every time he leaves your bed. You say to yourself “This is gonna be the last time” but when the next text or call comes, you fold once again. 

That’s how you ended up here. Your face is buried in the pillow while Bucky is pounding you from behind. It feels good. Actually, it feels pretty amazing. It always does but this time your emotions are overshadowing the physical pleasure. Tears are streaming down your face and you are grateful that he can’t see it thanks to this position. Then a sob escapes your mouth and you feel betrayed by your own body.

“Does it feel that good, doll?” He sounds smug but you can’t answer him. Not while trying to hold the rest of your sobs back. That seems to worry him. He suddenly stops and when he takes a closer look sees that your eyes are filled with tears.

“Hey, hey, hey! Are you alright?” He sounds genuinely worried. You try to say something but instead, more sobs come out. “What happened? Did I hurt you?”

He didn’t physically hurt you, yet you are hurt. You don’t know how to explain this to him. You feel embarrassed and angry at the same time. You pride yourself on how good you are at hiding your emotions. You don’t want anyone to see you cry. You don’t want anyone’s pity. Yet here you are. Eyes filled with tears, sobs escaping your lips and your heart is shattered.

“Please talk to me!” His desperate tone snaps you out of your thoughts. You try to turn on your back and quickly dry your tears. 

“It’s fine. Sorry for killing the mood. I just…” You hesitate for a second but no, you won’t back down this time. “I just can’t do this anymore.”

“That’s fine.” That wasn’t the response you were expecting. “You know it’s okay right?” His worry is so apparent in his voice. “You can always tell me to stop.” What is he talking about? “If you don’t like something or you don’t feel like it anymore… Just tell me next time and I will just stop.”

“There’s no next time Bucky.” The words come out of your mouth before you can process them. You didn’t intend to be so harsh but it came out so definite.

“What?”

“I’m telling you that I can’t do this…” You wave your hand between you two. “...anymore. I’m done. We are done.” 

“What…” He sounds shocked and hurt at the same time. You try to avoid looking at his eyes while he struggles to find the right words. “What are you talking about? Did I do something?”

“You didn’t do anything. It’s all my fault.” You have no intention to blame him. You know it’s on you. He never promised you anything.

“I don’t understand.” He sounds so lost. “Just help me understand what happened, okay? I thought everything was okay.”

“They were, for you. It was never okay for me.” 

You watch how his expression changes into something that breaks your heart even more. You never thought he would care this much but… apparently, he does. Maybe he’s not used to being rejected. Especially in the middle of sex.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” He looks at your face and then around. “I thought this is what you wanted.”

“What I wanted?” You repeat his words without missing a beat. “I never wanted this. This is what you wanted and that’s why we kept doing it. I was just…” You hesitate for a second because you hate to admit it. “weak.”

“Weak? You are never weak.”

“Oh, I am weak. This is why I kept saying ‘one more night’ to myself whenever you called or texted me. I’m weak as fuck and it makes me angry, okay? I shouldn’t be like this.”

“Doll, what are you talking about?”

His confusion confuses you as well. Can’t he see how much he’s hurting you? Is he really that blind or maybe he just doesn’t care.

“This arrangement might be working for you but it’s not working for me, okay?”

“But… this is what you wanted.”

“I never wanted this.”

“You said we can’t get emotions involved!” He sounds somewhat angry this time.

“Because you didn’t want emotions involved!” Your answer comes instantly.

“When did I ever say that?”

His question makes you stop for a second. He never said that but did he really have to? You know how popular he is. Everybody loves him. He has the prettiest face you have ever seen. You desperately wanted to be with him. You didn’t care how.

“Just look at you.”

“What does that even mean?” Is he doing this on purpose? He surely knows everybody wants him. Why does he have to hear it from you?

“It means you didn’t have to say it.”

“How does… I really don’t understand you.” His confusion is written all over his face. The way he hesitates makes you realize you have to say it out loud to make him understand.

“You are handsome. You are talented. Everybody loves you.” He keeps looking at you with confusion. He really doesn’t get it, does he? “You can have anybody you want!”

“Apparently not.” Why does he sound broken?

“Oh, come on!” Your reaction is instant. “You know you can. Don’t act humble. I’m just easier.”

“Easier?” You don’t miss the disbelief in his voice. “Easier?” This time it comes out more angry. “You were never easy!”

“You know what I mean. An easy fu-”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” The tone of his voice startles you. You never heard him talk like this. “I never wanted just an easy fuck. Especially not with you but that was all I could get!” Your head flinches back slightly. What is he talking about? 

“Bucky…” He doesn’t let you continue. 

“I don’t know what has gotten into you because this… what you called it? Arrangement, yes, was never my idea! You were the one who didn’t want to involve emotions. You were the one who said anything more than this would affect our friendship. I never said that!”

“I was trying to protect myself!”

“You never showed any interest to me!”

You blink a couple of times, trying to process that information. What did he think you were doing with him?

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You never showed any interest in staying over. You never wanted to do anything outside the bedroom or wherever the fuck we were fucking. Whenever I tried to take you on a date, you came up with a lazy excuse.”

“Uh… what?”

“I tried so many times, sweetheart. You never let me in. You were only interested in sex and now you are blaming me for it. No. Be honest. If you wanna end this thing, it’s fine. You don’t need any lies. I get it. I knew it would happen eventually.” He’s speaking so fast, you can’t even find any opportunity to interrupt him until he stops.

“You tried to take me on dates?” He squishes his eyebrows together like he can’t believe you are focusing on that part.

“Many times. I suggested study dates, tried to take you on that concert, then that one comedy club thing…”

“I thought…” You don’t know how to finish that sentence.

“You thought what? You knew what I was trying to do and you weren’t interested, so I finally gave up.”

“No, no, no.” You jump from your awkward position on the bed. “I never realized.”

“What did you think I was doing?”

“I thought… they were activities with other… people. Not dates.”

“Why would I take other people to a concert with us?” Oh, he really doesn’t get it.

“I thought… you had plans with your friends and… you were… inviting me as well. Just to show… we are nothing more than friends.”

“Oh, dear god.” He covers his face with both of his hands. “Seriously? Why would you even think that?”

You mimic him and cover your face with embarrassment. You don’t want to say it. Especially not to him.

“I… just never thought…” You don’t know how to say it without making him realize how low you think of yourself. “You were interested in anything more than sex.”

“I’m handsome. I’m popular. Everybody loves me. Is that why?” He repeats your words with that god-awful mocking tone and it hurts to hear. What you don’t realize is that he’s making fun of himself.

“Yeah.” Your response comes out so weakly but he hears it.

He starts to laugh all of a sudden and all you can do is give him a confused look. 

“God you are so blind.”

“Hey!” You instantly respond.

“Have you ever looked in the mirror?” You make a face but it just spurs him. “You are gorgeous and smart. I always thought you were way out of my league.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You are out of my league.”

“Come on… That’s-” He interrupts you again.

“Please.” The way he says it makes you stop talking. “I have been struggling to come to terms with you not liking me. I just told myself, you have done everything you can. You tried so many times. It’s a miracle she still wants to fuck you. I convinced myself this was all I could get so I tried to make peace with it. Now you are telling me you don’t want to keep doing this. What did you think I was gonna think?”

He just baffles you with every word coming out of his mouth. You look at him, not knowing what to say or what to think, even.

“And you thought you were just an easy fuck? Jesus, doll. Do you have any idea how many times I prepared myself for rejection? Every time I called you, I thought you weren’t gonna pick up. Every time I texted you, I prepared myself to hear ‘no’, and every time it did not come, I was the happiest man on earth because I had one more night with you!”

You don’t know when it started but you start to feel tears filling your eyes.

“Please don’t cry anymore.” He moves his hand on your face and catches a tear before it drops on your cheeks.

“I…” It’s so hard to speak normally. “I never thought…”

“What?” This time it comes out softer. You know he wants to hear it because he needs that assurance as much as you do.

“You would actually like me.”

“Like you? Oh, doll… I don’t like you. The word like doesn’t even cover it.” The smile he gives you ignites something inside you. Something you tried to push down for a long time. Suddenly you push him back a little bit and his mouth falls open but he doesn’t get the chance to say anything. You just sit on his lap, taking him back inside you and it slips right back in so easily. It makes you want to moan out loud but instead, you wrap your legs around his torso and trap him there.

“Oh fuck…” His moan is like music to your ears. It’s so raw and unfiltered.

You don’t say anything. Your hand wraps around his neck before you start to move. His hand quickly finds your breasts, squeezing them a lot harder than he ever did before. 

“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He says right next to your ear. You feel his breath on your neck and his lips attach to your neck as if he knows what you want. He starts gently. First, he sucks the skin and makes you whimper. Then his teeth graze the sore skin. When he finally bites the same spot, you realize he was just giving you some time to protest but it never came. His bite pulls a groan out of you and the way it hurts falters your rhythm.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” He licks the same spot, trying to soothe the pain. “There’s a part of me…” He tries to find the right word. “...that wants to mark you. Show the world that you’re mine.” Fuck, is he serious? He stops for another second to ask “Are you mine, doll?” He sounds so nervous yet possessive.

“I am.” You move a little back and look into his eyes while saying that. “I have been for a long time.”

He grabs your cheeks with both of his hands and pulls you in for a long, passionate kiss. It's all tongue and teeth, making you burn with passion.

“I’m yours, too. I think I always have been.” 

It’s your turn to show how much those words mean to you. You start to move again on his lap. This time it’s faster than before and it just makes both of you moan loudly. He wraps his arms around your body while he supports your movement by grabbing your ass and moving you a bit faster than before.

“Shit!” It feels good but it also restricts your range of movement and he realizes it quickly.

“Sorry. I just want to feel you all over me.”

You want to say it’s alright but he’s a lot faster than you. Suddenly you find yourself on your back. Bucky’s still between your legs. He never left inside you while changing the position. 

“Wrap your legs around me, baby.” 

God, the way he says it sounds like a soft order. You can practically feel the desire running through your veins. Your legs are automatically wrapped around his ass while he starts to move but he doesn’t put any distance between you. His whole body is pressed against yours while he’s kissing and licking all over your neck.

Sex with Bucky never felt like this. It was always good. You don’t remember any occasion you didn’t enjoy it or reach orgasm. Yet this feels like real intimacy. The way he’s making you feel is indescribable. You can feel everything he said before while he moves inside you. How much he wants you, how much he adores you… The way he clings to you fills you with love. All of it enhances the physical pleasure. Loud moans escape your lips.

“So… All this time…” Bucky starts to talk. “You thought I was here because this is easy.”

Ah, fuck. He isn’t gonna let that go, is he? You should’ve known that. You roll your eyes in response but he doesn’t see it. His head is still buried in the crook of your neck.

“All this time… I was where I wanted to be.” Your annoyance quickly fades away as he keeps talking. “Underneath your body.”

“You weren’t always underneath me.” You answer him with a playful tone.

“As long as I’m inside you, the position doesn’t matter.”

“So…” You try to ask as quickly as possible before your sudden courage disappears. “You haven’t been sleeping around with anyone else.”

He raises his head just to look into your eyes. 

“All this time, you thought I was fucking other people?”

“I mean…” You were just friends with benefits. What else you were supposed to assume?

“Were you?”

“Was I what?”

“Fucking other people?” His question is a lot more blunt than yours.

“I asked first!” You sound so defensive all of a sudden.

“I can’t live without touching you, smelling you, feeling you… I have been craving you non-stop, only stopping myself from calling you every day, just so I wouldn’t scare you away and you are asking me if I have been fucking other people. Jesus Christ, doll. How blind are you?”

You are questioning the same thing yourself, to be honest. How blind were you? While trying to surpass your feelings, you were overlooking his, as well. It’s just unbelievable.

“Doll?” You didn’t realize you were lost in thoughts. “It’s fine if you have been.” It doesn’t sound fine at all. It sounds like he’s trying to rationalize it so it would hurt less. “I’m not saying I won’t be jealous but it’s not like we were actually together.”

You start to laugh and he gives you a strange look.

“You are such an idiot and you call me blind.”

“What?”

“I only ever wanted you, you moron.” 

His smile is so big and bright, it’s worth everything you two went through. His happiness is practically radiating. Suddenly, his lips are on yours, kissing you like a madman.

“You’re only mine.” He starts to move inside you again and you can feel how close you are to coming.

“Only yours.” Your words make him groan loudly. 

“Fuck that mouth of yours. You’re gonna make me come before you.”

“You can do that later.” You tease him while moving your hips to meet him.

“Is that a promise?”

“It can be. Only if you fuck me just a little harder so I can finally come!”

That makes him move away from you. He stands up and without losing any time, pulls you on the edge of the bed. You know what’s coming and it makes you smile like a fool. He positions himself between your legs while pushing your knees on your chest. In a couple of seconds, he’s back inside you but the position feels so much better this time. A loud moan leaves your lips every time he hits that sweet spot inside you.

“Harder, huh?”

“Yeah. Just like that.” It’s so hard to not roll your eyes with the pleasure he’s giving you. It’s familiar yet it feels so different this time.

“My girl wants it rough. Why didn’t you just say so?” He sounds cocky there’s also a hint of eagerness in his voice. You can tell he’s close.

“Do I have to tell you everything?” 

“From now on, yes. You have to tell me everything.” That authoritative tone pushes you over the edge. “Every fucking thing you feel, okay? Every fucking thing you want. I wanna know everything!”

“Yes!” You practically scream. You don’t know if you are answering him or just screaming because of the way he makes you feel. Your legs are shaking violently while your whole body tightens up. “Fuck yes. Please, please, please, don’t stop!” Your eyes are closed while you are riding your high.

That makes him groan so loudly. Even though you can’t directly look at his face anymore, you just know he’s about to come. He starts to pound on you so forcefully, it just unlocks another level of orgasm for you. Both of your moans fill the room and he keeps going until he empties himself inside you. After what feels like an eternity, he pulls out of you and lays right next to you.

“Fuck, that was…” The struggles to find the right word.

“On another level?” You offer to end the sentence for him. That’s exactly how you feel.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “We should’ve talked to each other before.”

“We were busy doing other stuff.” You smile and he smiles back, knowing exactly what you mean.

“I guess we did everything other than talking things through, huh?”

[endless-summer-soldier]

cruel to be kind - chapter two

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (90s college AU)

summary: it started with a dare. Bucky restlessly pursues Y/N, seeking just one date. as he chases her, he realizes she's different from she challenges him, so he starts to catch feelings. but it all falls apart when she learns about his initial motivations. based on 10 things I hate about you!

warnings: alcohol use, cursing

word count: 1.9k

a/n: my taglist was getting messy so I created a sign up form! please complete and indicate your fic preferences. even if you're already being tagged, I'd really appreciate if you'd complete this! link for the sign up is here

series playlist

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taglist: taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @ozwriterchick @notmeddy @drewsuncrustables @lokidokieokie @hextech-bros @nats-whore @m4nulup1n @arcanebabe @tanyaspartak @jackiehollanderr @princezzjasmine @fallenlilangel99 @pono-pura-vida @mavrellover91 @milanaasblog @marvel-wifey-86 @helluvapimp @charmedbysarge @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @unaxv @theroyalmanatee @tellmealovestory @zanneme (click here to be added!)

Bucky knocked twice on her front door and waited for about three minutes before knocking again. The door flew open and Y/N stood in front of him, clad in an oversized T-shirt and a pair of bike shorts.

“Can I help you,” she phrased it more as a statement than a question.

“Did you forget about our plans, doll?” he asked.

“You were serious?” she retorted.

“As the plague.” They squared off in an unspoken staring contest until Y/N finally blinked.

She sighed, “Fine. I’ll give you an hour.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” She grabbed her keys and slid on a pair of converse and Bucky smiled to himself. He loved that she was going to a party in an oversized T-shirt and no makeup on. She truly didn’t care what anyone thought of her and she wasn’t there to impress anyone. Little did she know that her IDGAF attitude was impressing him.

“How did you even know where I live? Creep.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I’m not letting you evade that question. I need to make sure you aren’t actually stalking me.”

“My friends live next door. You’re always banging on the wall telling us to keep it down.”

“Ah, so you’re one of the degenerates. It’s all making sense now.”

“Well you’re on a date with one of the degenerates, so what does that make you?”

“This is not a date.”

“Oh no? Then what is it?”

“We are going to a party.”

“We are going to a party…together. Which is a date.”

“What if I turn around and go home…alone. What is that considered?”

“Come on doll, don’t do that.” She stood there frozen, glaring at him. “Stay for one drink and then, if you want, I’ll take you home.”

“Fine. And stop calling me doll.” They continued walking in silence. Bucky wanted to talk to her but he wasn’t going to risk pissing her off. 

“Where are we going anyway?” she asked, breaking the tension. 

“Some frat party. I told some people I would make an appearance. It’s not much further.”

“Really, a frat party? I haven’t been to one of those since freshman year.”

“If it helps, it’s one of the nicer frats.”

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Think of it like a walk down memory lane. You can relive your younger days and impart your wisdom on the underclassmen.”

“Oh, well in that case, I can’t wait!” she said with false enthusiasm. They walked up the sidewalk towards the surprisingly immaculate mansion. The only sign of the fraternity was the three greek letters mounted by the front door. Bucky walked through the entrance like he owned the place. He walked right past the pledges who were collecting entry fees without a blink of an eye and led her into the kitchen which was packed with people. Music from the basement was flowing into the room and there was a crowd circled around a keg, seeking a fresh pour. Bucky pulled two shot glasses out of a drying rack full of dishes and placed them on the counter as he retrieved a flask from his back pocket. 

“Whiskey okay?” he asked, as he filled the shot glasses. She nodded and they clinked the glasses together before downing the dark liquor.

“You bring your own liquor to these things?” she asked.

“If you want cheap liquor that’s been poured into a top-shelf bottle, go for it.”

“I’m not complaining, just curious.”

“Call it trust issues.” Before she could ask any other questions, he opened a cooler and pulled out two cans of cheap beer. He swiftly cracked them both and handed one to her. She immediately chugged close to half the can and Bucky looked at her with concern.

“It’s weird being here sober,” she explained.

“Can’t say I blame you,” he said. He passed her the flask and she took a quick swig and handed it back to him. He did the same and their night began.

Bucky couldn’t figure out when he’d lost her. They started the night at the beer pong table, defeating every challenger that came their way until they were coerced into playing flip cup. Bucky shouldn’t have been surprised that she was good at drinking games; she was competitive by nature. He had assumed she was always on the field or studying, but she also seemed to have a talent for drinking. Or so he thought.

He heard a roar of cheers coming from the other room and he followed the sound, hoping to find Y/N. And boy did he find her. She was standing on the pool table as “Hypnotize” by Notorious B.I.G. started blasting from the speakers. She started dancing on the table like she was in the club, rolling her hips and flipping her hair. She was either completely oblivious to the crowd of fraternity brothers surrounding her makeshift stage or she didn’t care. She dropped her hips low until she was suddenly on all fours doing a cat crawl across the table. Bucky pushed his way through the crowd, determined to get her off the table before she realized what she was doing. As she reached the end of the table she started to make her way back to a standing position. After a few hip gyrations, she bent over to complete another hair flip, only she hadn’t realized the lighting fixture was lower on this side of the table. Bucky saw the scene unfold in slow motion as she flipped her head back and it immediately made contact with the light. The crowd gasped, seemingly concerned, as her body gave out and she fell backwards. Bucky caught her effortlessly in his arms as she went limp and he pulled her off the table and away from the crowd. Despite the scene that had just played out, the music kept playing and people kept drinking as if nothing had happened.

He carried her out to the back porch and he ordered one of the pledges to bring her some water. He lowered her onto the porch step and sat down next to her, keeping his hand around her back to keep her up. She was starting to regain consciousness and as she woke up under Bucky’s arm she squinted at him in confusion.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I don’t think you want me to answer that question. Here, drink some water.”

“Is it drugged?” she asked, before taking a sip from the red solo cup.

“No,” he said emphatically. “Do you really think I would do that?”

She didn’t answer his question and instead finished the cup of water.

“I think I’m just gonna take a quick nap,” she said leaning her head back on Bucky’s shoulder.

“No, no, no. You need to stay awake.”

“Whyyyyy?” she whined.

“Because you might have a concussion.” He felt her weight fall into his shoulder and he pulled her up. “Hey, hey…stay with me,” he said lightly smacking her face to keep her up.

She groaned and looked at him. “You don’t care about me,” she slurred.

“Sure I do. Without you I would have to go out with girls who actually like me. Where’s the fun in that?”

He expected her to laugh at the joke but when she didn’t, he looked down at her to make sure she was okay. She was staring up at him with a look of concentration on her face. He didn’t say a word, not wanting to interrupt whatever thoughts were racing through her brain.

“Your eyes are really pretty,” she eventually said. “There’s little flecks of green in them.”

He sighed, “You must be really drunk if you’re giving me compliments. Come on, let’s get you home.”

He pulled her up from the porch and she swayed in his arms, not yet able to support her own weight. 

“Jump onto my back,” he said.

“What?” she questioned, confusion displayed all over her face.

“Climb on my back and I’ll carry you home.”

“I’m fine,” she said, taking another step and stumbling on the grass. 

“Come on, it’ll be quicker this way.”

“Fine,” she mumbled. She placed her hands on his shoulders and he lowered himself so that she could climb on. She hoisted herself up and Bucky intertwined his arms with her legs to keep her secure.

Bucky carried her with ease and they made it about halfway to her apartment when she spoke up again.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Why am I being nice to you?” he echoed back, like the question was blasphemous. “Because I like you.”

“But I’m not very nice to you.”

“Oh trust me, I know. But that’s part of what makes you so interesting.”

She became quiet again, resting her head on his shoulder, “You falling asleep back there?”

“Nooo…” she groaned.

“Better not be,” he teased. “We’re almost there.” He picked up the pace a little more, knowing she was growing tired. When he reached her building, he gently returned her to the ground and steadied her.

“Do you have your keys?” he asked. She handed them over to him and he opened the door to the building and offered his hand to Y/N. She gave him a low five and walked inside. He chuckled to himself, even after a head injury she still had sass. She stopped in front of her apartment door and Bucky found the next key needed to open the apartment. She turned the key in the lock and stepped inside, leaving the door open for Bucky to follow her in.

She sat down on the couch and he walked into the kitchen to pour her a glass of water.

“You know, you don’t know me,” she said out of nowhere.

“I think I know more than you think,” he countered.

“Yeah, like what?”

He sat down next to her on the sofa. “I know that you like indie music but you also like classic rock from the 70s. While you aren’t the poster child for school spirit, you almost always find time to go to other teams games. You don’t like any condiments on your hot dogs. You turn everything into a competition. And I know that you don’t care about what anyone thinks about you, which I find incredibly attractive.”

Her gaze shifted and she leaned in a little closer to him, “You aren’t as vile as I thought you were…”

“Sometimes if you give people a chance, they surprise you,” he smiled at her, “Well I should get going.”

“I think…” she placed a hand on his thigh, “you should stay.” She glanced down towards his lips and her face inched closer to his.

Bucky took in a deep breath, feeling knots in his stomach and what he was about to do. She was so close that he could feel her breath on his skin.

He cleared his throat and softly said, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea." Her eyes connected with his and she pulled back, a flicker of embarrassment on her face that quickly turned to rage.

“Fine, then get out,” she said with venom. She stood up and stormed into her bedroom, slamming the door. Bucky ran his fingers through his hair, but knew it was the right call. He couldn’t make a move on her when she was either drunk or concussed. It didn’t feel right. But now he would have to find a way to reopen the door that was just slammed in his face.

Before leaving, Bucky slid a note under her roommate’s door, letting her know about the potential concussion. He just wanted to make sure someone kept an eye on her.

[flores-and-sunshine]

Enemies to lovers >>> everything else

But the spicy parts 🤭 oof I need more of that

two-way street

pairing: bucky x reader (College AU)

warnings: language, some smutty stuff in the middle, bucky’s kind of a jerk, but it’s got a fluffy ending, i think that’s it

a/n: hey loves, i’m hoooome! excuse my absence, i just started in person classes and they are kicking my ass. so sorry, but here i am, back to serve you as you would like me to :)

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

check out my other writing on my m.list

You were fucking exhausted. This was your second semester of your junior year. Thankfully, you had kept to yourself. No one else from your town had come to your school because it was halfway across the fucking country. Hence the basis of it’s appeal to you. You have made like one or two friends on campus since your first year? One of them being your roommate, Wanda and the other a girl from your anatomy class, Natasha. She was eerily good at that class, like almost too good. However, it meant that you had a free tutor.

You pushed open the door of the on campus coffee shop, looking around for the two women. They had texted you during your British Literature class to meet them, which you were so grateful for. You lifted to your toes, peering over the heads in the cafe, searching for your group. When you found them, they were situated comfortably in the corner booth. You clutched your backpack strap, pushing your way through the crowded floor. After plopping yourself in the seat beside Wanda, you huffed out a frustrated breath.

“You’ll never guess what this bitch did today.” Natasha and Wanda shared a look, ready to hear your rant. “A group project. And we don’t get to pick our partners, he’s doing it for us! Can you fucking believe that shit?”

“Yeah, a professor assigning you a project with a designated partner. Tragic, really.” Wanda’s thick accent made the remark sound all the more unapologetic as she laughed when she finished. Your jaw dropped as they giggled at your expense.

“Girl, you’ve gotta admit, it seems a bit ridiculous that you’re this bent outta shape about this.” Natasha took a sip of her latte, eyes darting over your figure one more time. “So, what’s really the issue?”

“My partner.” Your jaw clenched at the mention of the whole situation. “It’s Sam.” Natasha made a face at your reaction.

“Sam Wilson?” You nodded at her. “He’s a sweetheart. What’s your deal with him?” Your shoulders sank in defeat.

“Ugh, it’s not him so much as his best friend.” Wanda made a noise.

“Oh! This is about Bucky?” Wanda snickered into her cup. “You got a crush on him or something?” Your eyes widened at her insinuation.

“Absolutely not! I don’t know why you’d ever suggest that.” You sighed heavily. “I just can’t stand the man. He’s so fucking annoying. We had the same classes for English and for Philosophy and he wouldn’t just shut the fuck up.” You pulled your water bottle from your bag, taking a swig of the clear liquid. “Seriously, I don’t know how I passed those classes. The only time the professors were actually able to teach was when he was either absent or hungover.” Wanda laughed at your comment. Natasha sat across from you shaking her head before settling back against the cushion of her chair.

“Sounds like somebody’s got a crush.” Your head whipped to her, your jaw dropped displaying an aghast expression.

“Abso-FUCKING-lutely not, woman.” Wanda giggled again while she nodded in agreement toward Nat.

“She’s right. This is a classic enemies-to-lovers situation.” Natasha wore a smug smile, nodding behind the rim of her coffee cup.

“I’ve read this book a million times, babes.” Your mouth was still gaping, trying to process what they were saying.

“There’s no fucking way. It’s impossible.” The bell hanging above the door shook as it swung open. A tall figure waltzed through the doorway, his head turning as he scanned the room, searching for one familiar face. Sam’s large hand raised as his eyes met yours, walking over to the table you occupied.

“Hey, Y/N. I figured we could hammer out the times that we’re going to work on our project together.” You watched as Sam pulled a chair from the neighboring table to join your band of merry women. “Hey, Nat, Wanda.” Sam addressed the other members of the table, receiving a small pair of small ‘hi’ back.

“Yeah, totally. When are you free?” You pulled out your phone, opening the calendar app to check your work schedule.

“Well it isn’t due until the week after next, so do you want to start working on it next Tuesday?” You nodded, putting the information in your phone. “Say, like noon? We can use my apartment, it’s a bit off campus but we won’t run the risk of being interrupted like we would at the library.” You looked up at him, eyes squinting with curiosity.

“Your roommates won’t mind?” Sam shook his head, making a face at your question.

“Nah, they won’t even be there. Steve’ll be at football practice and Buck will most likely be at the garage.” He leaned over your shoulder, watching as you typed on your phone. “You work at the bookstore downtown?” Your brows raised, matching the man next to you.

“Yeah, I’ve been working there since,” Your forehead wrinkled, thinking back to when you were first hired on. “Since about second semester freshman year?”

“Cool, cool, that’s about a block away from our apartment. I didn’t know you worked there.” He made a noise in the back of his throat.

“Alright, well next Tuesday at noon?” Sam nodded, getting up to push the stolen chair back to its original table.

“I’ll see you in class, Y/N. Later, ladies.” He winked at the three of you before leaving the coffeehouse. You turned back to the other two women, watching as a blush was spreading across the typically lowkey Natasha’s cheeks.

“Whoa, whoa. What was that, Romanov?” A slow smile spread across your features, Wanda biting her lip to keep in her giggles.

“Not a damn thing.” She hid herself behind the coffee cup in her hands, taking a large sip to not answer any more questions. “Are you guys going to the football game tomorrow night?”

“Nice segway, Red.” Wanda gripped the strap of her backpack that hung on her chair, hauling the bag to her shoulder. “Yeah, I’m down, but only if we all go.” The pair of them looked at you, waiting for you to respond.

“Ugh, guys I have to go to work early that day, I’ll be doing inventory for the whole shift.” Natasha’s hand raised, fingers opening and closing as a sock puppet, mimicking your excuses.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. The game isn’t until later that night, you can still come right?” Your shoulders dropped, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Fine, whatever, I’ll go to the stupid game. But I’m going to bug the shit out of y’all because I don’t understand what’s going on.” Natasha waved you off as Wanda began to leave, pausing briefly to tell the both of you goodbye. You eventually left yourself, gathering your bag and beginning the trek downtown. The school you went to was in a relatively small part of the city, making everything within walking distance. You gripped the straps of your bag, taking a swig of your water before opening the door to your job.

“Hey, Lissa.” You called out to your boss, who was set up behind the counter. The blonde smiled at you, waving you over to the computer.

“Hello, Y/N.” She pointed at the monitor, her wrinkled finger shaking slightly in her old age. “I know you’ve shown me before, but how do I get to the--” Your hand came up to the screen pointing at the correct icon that she was looking for. “Oh, yes. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.” You smiled at her, dropping your bag on the desk in the office.

“You ran this business for many, many years before I got here. I just help out every now and then.” She shook her head, rolling her eyes at your comment.

“That’s not true and you know it, you’ve brought us into the twenty-first century up here.” You grabbed your nametag from the magnetic board by the office door. You peeled your shirt away from your skin, pinning the tag to your outfit. “Oh, also, my grandson is going to be starting here next week. He’s worked here before, but it’s been years.”

“Oh alright, do you want me to train him whenever he comes in?” You hopped up on the counter, sitting next to Lissa, who was leaning against the countertop.

“If you don’t mind. He’s the nicest little thing you just ever laid your eyes on, too.” You nodded, picking absentmindedly at one of the rips in your jeans. “Somethin’ wrong, sugar?”

“No, not at all, Liss. Just got a lot on my mind school-wise, ya know?” She hummed next to you, rubbing your shoulder supportively.

“If you need extra time off, just let me know. It’ll be easier to cover now that we’re getting a second hire.” You nodded at her, the information going in one ear and out the other. You weren’t going to ask off, you needed the money. Your grades weren’t suffering so you weren’t about to jeopardize the one thing that was keeping you afloat here.

Your attention shot to the back corridor of the store, the sound of a stack of books falling over calling for you. You pushed off the counter, making your way to the overturned bundle. Dropping down to your knees, you balanced the bunch on your thighs.

“Shit. I mean, I’m not gonna say no, but at least take me out for a drink first.” Your head tilted upwards, meeting the intriguing face of one Bucky Barnes.

“James.” You shuffled the books into your grip, standing to your full height. A sad attempt at being intimidating, seeing as how you were still several inches short of meeting his eyes full on.

“Hello, Mary.” His eyes ran down your figure, not making a move to offer to help you at all.

“That’s not my name, James, and you know that.” Your brow raised, hands shifting to place the books back in their rightful place. You shoved past him, your shoulder digging into his bicep. He didn’t move but the action made you feel better. He annoyed you beyond imagination.

“Oh but doll, Mary suits ya better.” Bucky’s teeth caught his bottom lip, dragging the plump skin inward. The drag was enticing and it drew your eyes to the lower half of his face. “See somethin’ interestin’?” Your gaze snapped back up to his, jaw ticking in frustration.

“Not particularly.” You turned away from him, refocusing on your job. You felt him following you through the aisles of the store. The scent of the bookstore usually kept you calm, but your whole body remained on edge. “Is there something I can help you find today, James?” When you turned back to face him, he was much closer than you thought he was. He dipped his head down to level with you. You felt him take a deep breath, breathing in your honey vanilla perfume.

“Mmm, I don’t really know if you can help me or not. I’m lookin’ for somethin’ real specific.” He leaned forward, his left arm coming up to rest on the shelf just above your head. Bucky dropped his head again, only to feel your hand press against his chest, pushing him away from you.

“I know where everything is in the store, what are you looking for?” His head tilted, both brows raising.

“I’m looking for your books on sexual intercourse.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk as you shifted uncomfortably, eyes directing to the ground. “I know you don’t have a lot of experience in that department, but you should at least know where the books are, right?” His tone was condescending, seeping into every fiber of your being, you only hoped that he couldn’t see how much of a rise he was getting out of you.

“Looking to brush up on your skills? You know, they say you can’t teach old dogs new tricks.” You pushed your way around him, leading him to the far corner of the store. Lissa didn’t like to leave the openly sexual reads in the obvious eyeline. You couldn’t understand it, you tried to get her to change it for years. She kept them securely hidden in the upstairs loft portion of the store. You kept walking, ignoring the man behind you, leading him up the spiral staircase.

“Tryin’ to get me alone, doll?” He quipped as you pointed to the loft area, your brows raised as he just stood there.

“The items you are looking for can be found up there.” You dropped your arm to your side, turning quickly to escape the close proximity with the tall man. You felt his hand wrap around your bicep to stop you from leaving, making you face him again. “Anything else, sir?”

“Aren’t you going to lead me directly to the books?” The corner of his mouth lifted again, knowing that you couldn’t really say no.

“I’ve already told you where you can find them. You go up these stairs--” Your sentence was stunted abruptly when he began speaking over you.

“You know, I really would prefer it if you would show me where I can find what I’m looking for.” He raised his voice, loud enough that Lissa could hear him at the front of the store.

“She would love to!” Lissa’s voice sounded small, showing just how far away from comfort you were. “Right, Y/N?” Your jaw clenched and Bucky watched in amusement as the muscle twitched. Your neck relaxed slightly, allowing your eyes to drift to the ceiling offering a silent prayer to stay sane while in the presence of this fucking man. Soon after, your gaze locked with Bucky’s smug one.

“You’re absolutely right, Liss! Holler if you need me!” Bucky swept his hand in front of himself, gesturing for you to lead the way up the staircase. When you didn’t make a move to start up the stairs, Bucky huffed taking the lead. There’s no way you were giving him more of a reason to stare at your ass. Eventually you reached the landing, hanging a right just past the first bookcase, then pointing at the shelves in the back. “They’re back there.” You turned to walk away but were stopped yet again, this time by Bucky clearing his throat. “Oh my god, what?”

“A bit touchy are we, Mary?” He brought his finger up to his lips, rubbing the bottom of the pair. “Oh, but that’s not it, right?” His eyes ran over your figure slowly, it was taking everything in you to not throttle the man. He turned back to the shelf, looking for a few seconds before walking away empty-handed.

“Are you not even going to buy anything?” Not that it surprised you, it seemed his whole purpose in life was to make yours harder. He rushed you, causing you to back yourself into the shelves behind you. Your chest heaved, unsure of what he was going to do. Bucky had never liked you, but he wouldn’t hurt you, right? He smirked at your reaction, watching your chest as it bounced. He leaned forward again, close enough that you could smell the cologne he wore, the deeply subtle hints of rose lining the stronger scent of amber wafting into your nose.

“Just wanted to make sure you knew where they were. From what I hear, you’re the one who needs to learn some new tricks.” Every bit of fear that littered your body washed away the second he opened his big mouth. A tsunami of anger replacing the previous feelings. You flinched as Bucky reduced the distance between your noses. Then, his head dipped, running his nose over the column of your neck, inhaling deeply. Shivers ran down your spine as he carved out a path to your jaw, and involuntarily your head tilted, allowing him more access. Just as your eyes were about to slide shut in ecstasy, he retreated.

The extra body heat radiating off of him disappeared, a wave of cold air causing goosebumps to rise on your exposed flesh. You stood stock still for a few minutes after he left, unsure of what just happened. As you made the trek down the spiral staircase, you heard Natasha's knowing voice taunt you.

“I do not have any interest in that man.” By the time you got back to the counter, Lissa had decided that the both of you were going to start on inventory.

“Aren’t we getting a shipment tomorrow? Why don’t we wait for that?” Lissa waved your comment off, dismissing the subject.

“Ah, I’m closing early tomorrow. I figure we can do the inventory we have now and then I can handle the rest of it while you’re at class. That way you’ll be able to go to the game.” Her brows raised at you and you immediately knew that Natasha and Wanda had been meddling. “You never get out anymore, it’s time you have some fun. That is the college experience after all.” You pulled a face at her comment.

“But, Liss, are you sure you can handle all of it by yourself?” Her brows drew low, casting a shadow over her face as she stared at you.

“Weren’t you the one telling me that I ran this store ‘many, many years before you came along’?” You pucker your lips, backing yourself into a corner.

“Mm, I hate it when you’re right.” Lissa laughed once loudly, pointing at you with a pen.

“Have fun, you’re in your twenties! What else are you going to do?” The rest of the day went by fairly uneventfully. Unfortunately, that meant your mind had plenty of time to drift back to your interaction with Bucky.

He had never given you any reason to believe what Natasha and Wanda were implying. You had no reason to like him. Sure, he was conventionally attractive. His cologne was fairly intoxicating. His voice wasn’t all that bad, and let’s be honest, those arms? Oh shit.

*****

“We still on for tonight?” Wanda bounced next to you, her books clutched to her chest as her head tilted toward you.

“Of course we’re still on. She doesn’t have a choice.” Natasha appeared on your other side, making you jump back into Wanda. The redhead beside you smirked at your reaction.

“Ya know, just because you’re good at being stealthy, doesn’t mean you should scare the absolute shit out of me every chance you get.” You snarked the comment at her, while she beamed.

“Nevermind that,” Wanda’s arm laced with yours, bringing you into her peppy step. “You are coming right?” You really wanted to say no. Football makes no sense to you, tailgating had never been any fun for you, so you didn’t get the appeal. Wanda, on the other hand, was all for the whole shindig. Her and Natasha were in the same sorority, well used to be. Natasha was disavowed from the sisterhood because of lewd social media postings. Don’t bring it up though, especially when Natasha is drunk, she likes to go on tangents about it.

“Yes, I’m coming, Wan.” You drew out the a of her name, mimicking the way you would whine to your mother. The whole group stopped at one of the picnic tables on campus, dropping the weight of your bags to the grid surface. “Which one of you called Lissa yesterday about me going to the game?” Two confused expressions settled on the faces before you, making your brows raise.

“Uh, not me.” You pushed Natasha’s shoulder, a dumb smile on your face while the other two shook their heads.

“No, neither of us called Liss. Why do you ask?” That dumb smile slide off your face in exchange for a matching expression with Natasha and Wanda.

“Lissa, she said something about me getting the college experience. She had us do inventory last night instead of this afternoon because she wanted me to go to the game. I never told her about it, so I assumed one of you did.”

“Was this before or after you realized that Bucky was in the store?” Your mouth opened to formulate a response when you were interrupted by a male voice.

“Hello, ladies.” Your head turned to see Wanda being held by none other than her loving boyfriend. Vision’s hair blocked your view of Wanda’s smiling face, but you could hear her laughter. He pulled away from her neck, taking a seat. His body was closely followed by Sam, who settled nicely into the seat next to Natasha. You had to bite your lips to contain your giggles as a blush crawled it’s way up Natasha’s neck.

“Hey, guys.” He leaned closer to Nat, bumping her shoulder with his, pulling a smile from her lips. “Y’all going to the game tonight?”

“Of course, we’re going! Aren’t we?” Her accent made the simple phrase sound elegant. Wanda’s head tilted to the side as she waited on you to answer.

“Yeah, we’re going.” You rolled your eyes, then watched as Wanda’s eyes floated to something behind you. You didn’t have time to turn around before you figured out what, who, it was.

“Aw, she’s gotta go. I need my Mary charm.” Bucky’s arm wrapped around your waist, dragging your body into his side. Your back stiffened as you thought, why me? You pushed against his ribcage, trying to put distance between the two of you. Thankfully, Bucky released his grip on your side, allowing you to scoot away from him. Bucky greeted the group before starting a whole other conversation.

“Are we witnessing the start of something here?” Natasha’s finger waggled back and forth at the pair of you. Your eyes narrowed while your jaw clenched.

“Are we?” You repeated her motion, quickly making her shut up. “And no, you aren’t. This asshole just won’t leave me alone.” You pushed yourself away from him again, only to feel him get closer to you.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Mary.” Bucky tilted his head at you, his hair drifting to one side. “You never know what’ll happen if you ask nicely.” A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth before licking his lips.

“Fuck off, James.” You opened your English textbook as the group continued laughing and talking. You were looking back and forth between the pages of your textbook and your notes, trying to organize your thoughts. Old English was so unnecessary and completely frustrating. Who talks like that? Did they talk like that out loud? Or was this an only on paper thing, like text lingo?

Your thoughts immediately became scrambled when you felt a warmth encase your thigh. You glanced down to see Bucky’s large hand wrap around the upper half of your thigh. You took your left hand and gripped his wrist, shooting him a look. Bucky hadn’t broken his conversation with Wanda and Vision. Your nostrils flared in anger and annoyance, who the hell did he think he was? After trying, and failing, to get his grip off of your leg, you went back to your notes after determining that he wasn’t going to be a problem. Well, more of a problem than he already is.

About ten minutes later, his fingers began flexing. Squeezing until his fingers made little indentions in the flesh of your thigh. You swallowed audibly, rolling your shoulders and deciding that he wasn’t going to win. Do not react. Everything was going fine.

Everything was not fine. Bucky’s hand moved further up. So far up that his pinky was resting under the fabric of your shorts. He still gave no indication to anyone else at the table what he was doing. To a stranger, it was just a boyfriend and girlfriend’s little version of intimacy. To you, it was a violation, he pushed his limits to their breaking point. Searching for the line to cross that would make you react. Instead, you gripped his wrist again, this time moving it back off your thigh.

A small sigh of relief was short lived when not even five minutes later, his hand was back. The same pattern, resting, indentions, searching. You jammed your finger into his side, as he placed his pinky back under the denim of your shorts. He began moving his little finger back and forth, rubbing beneath the rip of your shorts. You pushed him again, darting your eyes to the group around you, blissfully unaware of Bucky’s actions. You watched as Bucky’s other hand swung between the other members at the table, initiating some debate between the four of them.

“Is that little pussy dripping, yet?” His breath was hot against your neck, making your hair stand on end. Bucky never stopped the motion of his fingers. You listened as he sucked on his teeth, the noise jarring right next to your ear. “Is it arousing? Being touched like this in front of them, without them knowing?” Your jaw clenched, your gaze ran around the group before dropping to your lap. Your hand wrapped around Bucky’s wrist yet again, a weak attempt to stop his ministrations.

“Nobody’s ever taken care of you like this, have they?” You could hear the smug grin in his voice, but you were becoming too engrossed in his movements to care. His hand shifted up higher, letting the palm of his hand rest where both of your thighs met. Bucky slotted his fingers under the denim, relishing in the heat that your core was giving off. He tightened his hold, stretching his digits out afterwards, just barely grazing the drenched fabric underneath.

“James, what are you doing?” It took everything in you to question him. It felt so good, letting him run his knuckles over the smooth fabric of your underwear. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to concentrate. Your hand never left his wrist, just followed limply as he moved.

“C’mon, doll. Ya know that feels good,” so good, “lettin’ me touch ya like this?” Dominance radiated from Bucky’s voice as he twisted his hand in between your legs. Your thighs fell apart easily, knees weak when he cupped your sex. “Oh, you’re dripping, Mary.” Something in you clicked at his words while you felt his fingers trace your lower lips through your underwear.

You abruptly stood, legs shaking from the stimulation you ripped yourself from. Bucky raised his hands in surrender, the rest of the group observing the interaction with curious eyes. You swallowed harshly, shoving your books into your bag then quickly retreating from the group. As you got away, you could picture Bucky’s smirk in your head as he spoke. You could still smell his cologne, still feel his fingers on your skin. What really shocked you was that even though you were mad on the surface, you couldn’t get past the overwhelming feeling that you got when he touched you. What the absolute fuck.

It wasn’t long before Natasha and Wanda found you again. Secluded in the back of the bookstore, restocking the shelves. You heard the two of them approach before they announced themselves. The ambience of the bookstore being interrupted by two unstoppable forces that you called your friends. Natasha leaned against one of the cases, arms over her chest, expectant look on her face. Wanda hovered next to her, eyes drifting around the store.

“You ready for us to kidnap you?” You turned to her with your hands full. You lifted the stack you held, shrugging your shoulders.

“Sorry, Liss ended up not getting the restocking done. Turns out I can’t go.” You flipped back around before she could question you directly, not wanting to face her wrath head-on.

“Lies!” Lissa came around the corner, wrapping her arms around Wanda’s waist to pull her into her side. “This is just extra that we didn’t even have to do.” She released Wanda, sweeping her hands in front of you, shooing you out of the store. “Go! Go have your fun!” Lissa had effectively pushed you out of the front door, tossing your bag at you, hitting you in the stomach upon impact. You groaned as Lissa flipped the lock, waving at you through the clear glass.

You turned to face Natasha and Wanda yet again. Wanda squealed, linking her arm with you and Nat on either side. She pulled the both of you to the apartment, rushing into your closet as quickly as she could. The both of them sifted through your clothes hung in the walk-in, picking out random items and then dismissing them just as quickly. You plopped on your bed, the duvet fluffing out around the added weight of your body. Natasha came just as quick as you settled down, pulling you back to a standing position, mumbling something about needing a model.

“I really don’t feel that great, guys. Maybe I should just stay home.” Natasha offered you a scrunched brow in return, her lips puckering in disbelief.

“I call bullshit.” Your jaw dropped at Wanda’s voice, not expecting it from her. “You already said you’d go, no backing out now.” She looked back at the clothing items in her hands, tossing them on your bed. Her long finger pointed at the clothes, “Now change into those, and we can go.” You had only ever experienced Wanda like this twice: once when she was first rushing her sorority, and once when she was psyching herself up for her first date with Vision. You knew there was no getting out of it now.

So, you pulled on the shirt and skirt that Wanda picked. The white shirt stopped at your waist, showing the detailed pockets of the skirt she threw at you. You looked in the mirror, angry that Wanda had such good style. You were supposed to be mad at her for making you go to this stupid game. You rolled your eyes again, huffing as you grabbed your phone, shoving in your back pocket.

“Are we going?” You held your hands out to your sides, palms facing the pair before you. Natasha spun her finger signalling you to give them a twirl. Your shoulders sank as Wanda and Natasha smiled wide, “You done torturing me?” Wanda made a tsk sound with her mouth, grabbing your hand and excitedly leading you out of the apartment.

If you were being honest, you were the tiniest bit excited to go to the game. You always listened to Natasha and Wanda tell you about how much fun they had and you wanted to be a part of that. Really the fun part came after the game, the after party. That was one thing that you had never been invited to, but now that you were accompanying Natasha and Wanda, you had an automatic in.

It was quite overwhelming, the royal purple and white pom-pom that was shoved in your hand at the gate, the bottom of the student section led by a group of body-painted man-children. The band was to your right, blasting show tunes to keep the crowd energized, coupled with the routines that the cheerleaders were performing on the sidelines. The game seemed to drag on for what felt like ever, but it was an enjoyable experience. You were glad that you went. Were your eardrums busted because of how loud Wanda was cheering next to you? Probably, but that’s all part of the college adventure.

You could feel a headache emerging at the base of your skull, a pressure spreading to your temples. Clambering into the backseat of Wanda’s four-door sedan, you watched the streets pass by too quickly for you to memorize. You leaned forward, hands resting on the sides of the front seats, to speak to the pair in front.

“Dibs on being the designated driver tonight.” Natasha’s head whipped to face you with narrowed eyes, confusion lacing her features.

“Nobody volunteers to be the designated driver, especially people who haven’t ever been to an after party before.” Your shoulders raised offering her a non-committal answer before leaning back on the leather seats behind you.

“Just because I’m going to the after party doesn’t mean I don’t have work tomorrow.” Wanda smirked at you in the rearview.

“I have work tomorrow, I just know that I can handle my alcohol.” Natasha snickered under her breath at Wanda’s slight dig at you.

“That was one time!” Wanda laughed, waving off your excuses as she pulled into a parking spot near the two-story colonial. The long haired woman threw her hands above her head, swaying her arms as if she was a hippie at Woodstock. Natasha wrapped an arm around your waist, squeezing you to her side.

“Look, you’re going to have a good time tonight. If you don’t want to drink for that, fine, but Wan is probably going to end up with Vis, and I’ll fingers-crossed be bunking with Sam.” She shot you a wink as she pulled you through the doors, her eyes scanned the party as a few of the members stopped their conversations to glance over the new arrivals. You shifted under their gazes, not liking the implications behind some of them. “All-in-all, I don’t think we’re going to be needing a designated driver, not tonight at least.” Her arm left your side as she led you through the throngs of people to the kitchen.

A large metal tub sat on the granite countertop filled to the brim with chunks of ice, that was littered with different cans and beer bottles. Your nose wrinkled at the smell of the beer, Natasha held a red cup out to you as an offer, to which you shook your head, opting for the safer option of a ginger ale. You watched as Natasha downed the contents of the solo cup before taking several different bottles and mixing her perfect alcoholic concoction. She gave no reaction as she sipped the drink in her cup, she jerked her head to the side, gesturing for you to follow her.

“Hey, guys. I wondered where you were.” Wanda was snuggled against Vision’s side, a fluffy blanket wrapped over their shoulders, shielding them from the slight chill that the breeze carried.

“I needed a drink.” Natasha quipped as she sat next to a comfortable Sam, crossing one leg over the other, leaning forward on her elbows. There was a fire pit in the middle of the four couches that the couples had settled on. The white cushions offer your feet a break from the less than great support that your sneakers were giving you. You sat on one of the empty couches, suddenly joined by the lithe Steve. Your brows furrowed at his choice of seating, there was a whole other couch that was empty. Deciding not to question it anymore, you joined back in the conversation with the group.

“Well, how was your first game, Y/N?” Sam shifted the conversation to you, making the eyes shift with it. Your cheeks grew rosy, a tight smile on your lips.

“It was good. Very energetic.” You shook your closed fist in front of your face, mimicking the cheerleaders from the earlier game. Natasha could tell you were uncomfortable with all the attention on you, so she nudged Sam’s side to change the subject again. Your shoulders slumped forward, leaning to the fire to soak up the heat.

“I didn’t know that was your first game.” Steve spoke low next to you, so only you could hear him. Your eyes met his kind pair, the bit of green in the flickering in the light of the fire. “So be honest,” He leaned forward again, making you back away slightly. “You didn’t understand a bit of it, did you?” Your lips rolled inward, stifling a laugh. Your hand came up to your face, rubbing your eye before you looked at him again.

“Was it that obvious?” Steve shrugged, tilting his head to yours.

“Nah, you hide it well.” You could tell he was lying for your benefit, but it was a nice sentiment. “Plus, unless you were raised around football, it’s difficult to pick up later in life.”

“I got that we won.” You smiled big at him, making him laugh loud which was quickly interrupted by Bucky’s interjecting voice.

“What’s so funny?” He took a seat across from you, a blonde woman hanging off his arm. Your jaw twitched at the sight of her caressing his bicep. Steve started explaining the joke to Bucky as you began glaring at the woman across the fire from you. You watched as she leaned over to Bucky’s ear, biting his lobe softly, trying to entice him into something else. Your eyes met Bucky’s briefly, dropping to the floor immediately afterwards, slightly embarrassed to have been caught.

“Y/N.” He greeted you with a smirk, leaning back into the woman next to him. You rolled your eyes, not meeting his gaze.

“James.” The blonde beside him perked at your voice.

“James?” She purred loud enough for the group to hear. “I thought your name was Bucky.” Steve shifted in his seat, not looking directly at the girl across from him.

“Bucky is a nickname I gave him back in, like, middle school or something.” Steve clasped his hands in his lap, wringing them.

“It’s short for Buchanan, that’s my middle name.” Bucky finished Steve’s explanation for him locking eyes with you afterwards. “James is my first name, but I don’t like it when people use it, so everyone calls me Bucky.” The blonde leaned closer to his ear, licking a stripe up his neck before stage whispering.

“What if I used it when you’re pounding into me?” Bucky’s nostrils flared at the idea, his head tilting to look at her in the face. He cracked the bones in his neck, then leveling his gaze with yours.

“Yeah, I’d probably like it, then.” Bucky was trying his hardest to make you uncomfortable, and he was succeeding. “Oh, I’m sorry, guys. Everybody, this is Sharon.” The group said a collective hi to the new addition.

“I’m his girlfriend.” Her eyes snapped to you, forceful and mean. A smug tilt of her head toward Bucky started her next sentence. “Isn’t that right, James?” She purred again, her voice a sickly kind of sweet. Bucky made a face, answering right away.

“No?” Sharon’s face dropped as the surrounding group stifled giggles. Your hand came up to your mouth to stop it from gaping open. Natasha laughed out loud beside Sam, hiccuping occasionally.

“James!” Sharon’s voice turned shrill and whiny, a complete 180 from what it was just ten seconds ago. Her eyes ran over the group, settling on you with narrowed slits. “What, like, the Virgin Mary is going to put out?” You swallowed harshly, nobody except James had ever called you that. Your whole body felt like it was on fire as there was a full five seconds before anyone said anything. Processing the newly learned information.

“Whoa! Hey, now!” “What the fuck?” “Too fuckin’ far, bitch!” The last thing you heard was Natasha slurred the phrase before rushing out of the group. You shoved your way through the crowd, trying to remove yourself as far from that situation as you could. By the time you reached the front door of the frat house, tears were spilling over your waterline, tracking their way down your face. You leaned against one of the excessive columns lining the front walkway of the house.

“Oh, Y/N.” Wanda emerged from the doorway of the home, wrapping you in a warm embrace as you cried into her shoulder. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, hon.” Her tone was motherly, but that was definitely not what you needed to hear at the moment. You pushed away from her, holding your hand out for her keys.

“Aren’t you staying here?” Wanda nodded, holding one finger up, telling you her purse was in Vision’s room. You turned back around, your back pushed against the ridges of the column. You heard the hinges of the door squeak, even over the pumping bass of the speakers in the living room. “That was quick, but thanks for--” Your eyes met Bucky’s figure making your jaw clench. “Oh. What do you want?”

“I, uh,” Bucky’s speech was broken, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to say. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry. Sharon should have never said that.” You narrowed your eyes, scanning his body. His shoulders were hunched, hands shoved in the front pockets of his jeans. A stark contradiction of the usual overly-confident Bucky you had grown accustomed to seeing.

“What the hell do you care?” Your arms crossed over your chest defensively. You started to speak again when Wanda walked out with her keys in hand.

“Hey, sorry it took so long, there’s so many people in-- Oh, did I interrupt something?” Your eyes darted over Bucky again, taking in his slumped figure before shaking your head at Wanda.

“No, you didn’t. Thanks for letting me take your car. I’ll text you when I get home.” Wanda nodded, giving you one last hug, leaving you with Bucky again. “As for you, you can take your apology and shove it. Don’t talk to me anymore, Bucky.” Bucky’s eyes that had been trained on the concrete snapped to meet yours at his chosen name. You walked away quickly, storming off to your car, not letting him get a word in edgewise.

*****

Bucky watched as the brake lights of Wanda’s car faded as you drove away. He knew he fucked up. He really did like you, he just couldn’t get a read on you. The Virgin Mary thing started out as a joke. Some stupid thing he saw on Gilmore Girls when he was watching with Rebecca. He never knew it was rooted in truth until he saw how you reacted today.

Bucky’s Ma probably would’ve smacked the fuck out of the back of his head for how he treated you. And he touched you today without you saying okay, shit, what the fuck were you thinking, asshole? God, you should hate him, you probably do. He ripped the door open, a path in the crowd clearing for him as he plowed through. He reached the fire pit where Sharon was still sitting, arms over her chest on the offense as she attacked the group around her. “Look, just because you’re friends with a virgin doesn’t mean that I have to be.”

“What the fuck? Why do you say that like a slur, you bitch? Like it’s a bad thing to not whore yourself out.” Natasha had sobered up when you left, wanting to go with Wanda, but not quite finding her balance in time. Sharon’s jaw dropped, finger raising to point in Natasha’s face.

“You can’t talk to me like that.” Wanda’s eyes narrowed, joining in the fight against Sharon.

“And, why is that?” Her accent got thicker by the minute, her anger steadily rising as Sharon continued degrading her friend.

“Because my James won’t let you.” Bucky stood behind her, his weight on his back leg, a confused expression on his face.

“Your James?” His brows raised, making a face as Sharon turned to face him with a pout.

“Did you hear how they’re talking to me, Jamie?” The blonde sauntered over to him, laying a hand on his chest in a honeyed manner. “Are you going to let them talk to your girl that way?” His eyes lifted past Sharon to run over the group behind her. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her start smirking as she shifted, running her hand over his collarbone, to rest on his shoulder.

“No, I’m not going to let you talk about my girl that way.” He turned to face Sharon, an intimidating look on his features. “First off, we aren’t anything, let’s just get that through your thick head. Second off, you don’t get to call me James. That’s reserved for my girl. Thirdly, I’d take Y/N’s side over yours any fucking day.” Sharon huffed again, stomping her foot like a kind, making Bucky raise one brow inquisitively.

“She’s a fucking prude, James. She’s not going to give you what you want.” She sidled closer to Bucky, her hand resting on his belt. “I can give you what you need.” Bucky’s hand came up to Sharon’s shoulders, pushing her away from him.

“You couldn’t get me hard even with the help of porn.” He dropped his hands from her body, backing away to leave. Thoughts began running through his head of how he was going to be able to salvage any type of relationship with you.

****

As much as Bucky tried, you were better at evading him than he thought you would be. He went to the bookshop where you worked and you went on break to get away from him. He tried to catch your eye during class, even attempting to sit next to you. You eventually ended up feigning a sickness and just left the lecture hall. He even tried going to your shared apartment, only to be greeted by Natasha who just shook her head and closed the door.

It was three days before Bucky saw you again. This time, at his apartment. You were supposed to be working on a project with Sam for your English class. Knuckles rapped against the door to the apartment, making Bucky stop what he was doing to answer the door. Your hands were full of textbooks, a plain tote slung over your shoulder. The smile on your face suddenly drops when you realize who it was. Bucky’s mind short circuited, all the conversations that he had with you inside of his head completely vanished.

“Is Sam here?” You stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to answer.

“Uh, no. He’s in class, but he should be home in about thirty minutes.” Bucky watched as you shifted the heavy books from one arm to the other, regaining your balance as you weighed your options. He pushed away from the door, opening it wider to allow you entrance.

“You can come in and wait, if you want.” Your eyes narrowed on his face, before deciding that this was the better option.

“Fine,” your finger pointed at his face as you passed him, “but no talking, dickwad.” Bucky raised his hands in surrender as you pushed past him. He caught a whiff of your honey vanilla perfume, that perfect aroma that always made his pants just a little bit tighter. He closed his eyes as you shuffled to the couch, dropping your books on the coffee table. Bucky paced back to the kitchen, pouring his mug full of coffee. He glanced up at you as he went for the sugar, seeing you had leaned over, exposing the back waistband of your shorts. The skin of your lower back was bared to him, inviting him to trace his fingers lightly over the skin there.

“You want a cup?” He shook himself out of his fantasy, there was no way you’d let him near you now. He began adding sugar to his cup as you bit back a response to him.

“What did we say about talking?” He sighed loud enough for you to hear, taking a gulp of his overly sweet drink. “I don’t want to hear your voice, I’m leaving as soon as I’m done studying with Sam.” He slammed his cup against the countertop, causing your head to jerk to the noise.

“Ya know what, shut up.” Bucky had finally gotten tired of you evading him. “You’re going to listen to what I have to say.” Your mouth opened, forming one of your famous snappy retorts, but he held up a finger, giving you a look that made you shut up. “I have been trying for days to apologize to you. Fucking days, Y/N. And now, you’re trapped, so you’re damn well going to listen to what I have to say.”

Your eyes shifted from his to the couch, picking at a loose thread on the cushion. Bucky rolled his eyes, storming over to you and yanking your chin upwards to lock eyes with him.

“I’m sorry. Sharon should’ve never said those things to you.” He released your jaw, backing away from the sofa to give you space as he spoke. “I get that I’ve been a jerk to you, but it really did start out as a joke. I didn’t actually know you were a virgin, it was just something that I said to get under your skin.”

“Why would you do that?” Your brows were furrowed, expression reading nothing but hurt. He took a seat on a loveseat near you, hands folded in front of him. He rested his weight on his forearms, not looking you in the eye anymore.

“Because I like you. Also, I lack the social skills to communicate with pretty girls beyond telling them I want to fuck ‘em.” His hands ran through his hair, a nervous tick he hadn’t done since high school. “Uh, not that I don’t want to have sex with you. I would like to, but I know that you’re, uh, well ya know, but that’s beside the point. I do like you. And I want more than sex with you. You were interestin’ and smart. And ya got along with my friends and ya work at Steve’s grandma’s bookstore and I don’t know. You just caught my eye and then I couldn’t get you out of my head.” He took a deep breath, sparing a glance at your face. You were shocked, it was written all over your face.

“Lissa is Steve’s grandmother?” Bucky stared at you, blinking once, twice and a third time before saying something.

“That whole thing, and you focus on the fact that you work at Steve’s grandma’s shop?” He laughed as a smile grew on your face. His eyes lingered a little longer, dropping to the floor soon after, lids closed only seeing that stupid grin of yours. “And ya do that. You get that stupid, dopey grin whenever you think you’re bein’ funny.” His head dropped into his hands, hanging in sorrow. “I’m just really sorry for everything that I did to you.” Bucky’s eyes locked with yours, intensity rolling off of him in waves. “I know that Sharon thought that it was okay to call you Virgin Mary because I did, and I can’t do anything to change the past. All I can do now is change the way that I act toward you now. I totally, definitely get it if you want me to leave you the fuck alone for the rest of your life, or whatever. I get it, I was a complete, to use your term, dickwad. For that, I’m sorry and I’m going to try to be better in the future.” Every bone in his body wanted to hear your response, but Bucky wasn’t sure how well he would’ve handled it if you would’ve rejected him.

Instead, he grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder and walking to the door. He left without another word to you, leaving you to ponder on his words.

*****

The apartment seemed colder without Bucky there with you. Even if you were mad at him while he was there, he always managed to make butterflies flit in your stomach. You chewed on the side of your finger, mulling over Bucky’s parting words. Could you really forgive him? Calling you Virgin Mary, while true, was incredibly hurtful to you, especially now knowing that the nickname had spread to different social circles.

You shifted on the couch until your legs were thrown over the side of the arm rest. Both your hands came up to rub the heels into your eyes, trying to physically scrub out the confusion. The door opened again, a pair of boisterous voices accompanying the slam.

“Hey, Y/N.” “Hi, Y/N.” Sam and Steve spoke in unison, leaving you to raise an arm to toss a wave at the both of them. Sam padded over to the living room with his backpack over his shoulder, cocking his head to the side to stare at you.

“What’re you doin’ on the couch, girl?” Your head shifted, hair tangling at the base of your neck because of the motion.

“Yeah, how’d you even get in?” Sighing heavily you felt Sam lift your legs to sit underneath them as Steve asked you his question.

“Bucky let me in.” Sam and Steve shared a look, noticeable to you. Your finger wagged back and forth between them. “What was that?” Sam pulled a face, feigning nonchalance.

“What was what?” Your eyes narrowed as you shoved yourself into a sitting position on the opposite end of the couch away from him.

“Don’t bullshit me, Wilson.” You pulled your legs under you, sitting forward. Sam shrugged while Steve explained.

“We just know things have been tense between the two of you, so we’re just curious as to how that went. Looks like you’re alive and I’m assuming Bucky is too?” You nodded, exhaling while not meeting their gaze.

“Bucky talked. He wouldn’t let me say anything.” You raise one brow, unsure if you really wanted to know the answer to your next question. “Is it true?”

“Which part?” Had he rehearsed this or some shit?

“The part about him liking me? He’s not just pullin’ my leg to try and get back on my good side or something?” No matter how much you acted like the strong, independent woman you were raised to be, you craved for something more. You craved to have everyone’s approval, a violent toxic trait that you couldn’t train yourself out of.

“Do you want it to be real?” Your shoulders tensed at the implications of your true response. If you admitted that you did, then you would have to forgive Bucky’s transgressions and you weren’t sure you were ready for that. If you denied it, then you’d be lying and you’d lose Bucky forever.

“Maybe?” Sam’s hand clutched his chest.

“Oh thank god. Then you can get him out of his funk because I swear if he sulks around the apartment for any longer, I’m going to strangle him.”

“Wait what?” You were confused. In the past few days, you had seen Bucky on campus, smiling and happy. No indication suggesting otherwise, so what did Sam mean sulk?

“Ever since the game, Bucky’s been in a mood.” Sam held up a finger, taking a swig of his water.

“No, it was after he told Sharon off. Then he went to go find you,” He pointed his finger at you, beginning to screw the cap of his water bottle back on.

“And he’s been acting like a kicked dog ever since.” Steve finished Sam’s sentence, staring at you.

“So he wasn’t kidding?” Both men shook their heads, completely serious.

“No, he’s been into you since the second semester of freshman year?” Steve’s eyes shifted to Sam’s for confirmation.

“Yeah, love sick puppy wouldn’t shut up about you. But he was one of those really charismatic people who drew people into him, so he got a lot of ass.” Your nose scrunched as you made a face at Sam’s comment.

“Look, this is all well and good, but none of it makes up for what he did to me. So Sam, let’s just do our project and I’ll deal with that later.” Steve retreated to his bedroom, leaving the two of you to finish your homework. You fully immersed yourself in the topics, finding it easy to forget about everything else when you harnessed your energy onto something productive.

It took about three hours, but you and Sam finally finished your work. You sent a quick text to Natasha letting her know that you’d be home soon as you left their apartment. Shoving your key into the lock, you pushed the door open, yelling into the room at large.

“I’m making spaghetti tonight!” You dumped your bag and keys next to the table beside the door, heading for the kitchen to start dinner.

“Y/N! Can you come help me in your room?” You heard Natasha’s voice from down the hall.

“What do you need help with?” You started off down the hallway, curious about what she needed.

“Oh just your opinion on something.” Her answer was vague, but you assumed it was about her outfit. You got to the threshold of your room, seeing Bucky sitting on your bed, hands zip-tied together in his lap. She had also managed to shove a ball gag in between his lips, disrupting his ability to form anything other than obnoxious muffled sentences. Your jaw dropped as Natasha appeared beside the door, a sarcastic smile on her face.

“Yeah, I need your opinion on this.” Bucky’s eyes bounced between your face and Natasha’s, your mouth gaped, unsure of what to say. In your stuttering, the redhead was able to slip behind you and close the door. The click of the lock brought you out of your bewildered state. Yanking on the doorknob did nothing, so you banged your fist on the door.

“Natasha! Why is the door locked?”

“I’ll be back in a few hours, work out your problems!” Your eyes widened as you heard the front door slam shut, letting you know that she really did leave you. Bucky grunted from the bed, raising his bound hands, waiting for you to untie him.

“Oh yeah.” You set off in search of a pair of scissors, pausing for a second. “Wait.” You turned to face him, nerves running through your body. “Look, you had your turn, now it’s mine.” Bucky’s eyes traced your face before nodding, listening. “Okay. Yeah, you’re right. You can’t change the past, but you can change how you act in the future. I like that. That’s a good saying. And you’re right that you hurt me, you really did. I know that it started as a joke and it was funny at first, but then you kept doing it and it just got annoying.” You started pacing in front of him, your hands gesturing wildly as you spoke.

“I’m not saying that it’s going to be easy, but I do want to forgive you. I would like to, mostly because I like you too. I want something to happen between us, and not just sex. I want a relationship with you. I can’t say that it hasn’t crossed my mind. What it would be like to walk across campus on a cold day and have your arm wrapped around my shoulder, pulling me into your side to warm me up. What it would be like to have those small moments where we kiss and I would taste the atrocious amount of sugar you use in your coffee on your tongue. And even what it would be like to have sex with you.” You stopped pacing, facing him head on. You leaned down, cutting the ties from his wrists, feeling a bit guilty about how red they were. Bucky removed the gag from his mouth before he stood in front of you, your eyes locking with his as you continued.

“But I would have to know you’re serious. You have to earn my trust. You have to earn my love and I would have to earn yours too. Relationships are two-way streets and I’m willing to work through it with you if you are. But only--” Your sentence was cut off by his lips. His hands cupping your jaw to keep you in place as his mouth attacked yours. It wasn’t as harsh as you thought it would be. Instead, you relished in the feeling of his lips caressing yours, his thumbs rubbing the lower half of your cheeks. He broke the kiss when the need for air became too great to ignore, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry, but you really are an English major.” He pecked your lips again, pulling back to face you. “I’m willing to work for you.” A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you pushed forward, searching for his lips again.

“Let’s work through this together then, James.” He wore a wide grin as you said his first name again, finally getting to appreciate the way it sounded without annoyance fueling it. Bucky leaned down to kiss you again when the door burst open, Natasha displaying a smug smile.

“See, I knew you just needed to work it out.” You leaned down and threw a pillow at her head, making her giggle as she ran away. You turned back to Bucky, eyes searching his.

“Two-way street?” He nodded, pulling you in for a loving kiss.

“Two-way street.”

*****

@dorothea-hwldr

[hazywrites]

Bucky I’m In Love With My Best Friend

Chapter 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You are hopelessly in love with your best friend, James Buchanan Barnes, and it's clear he feels something for you, too. So between stolen kisses and hookups, drunken calls and flirty banter, why can't you talk about it? What even is "it"?

Warnings: Light angst, an argument, all is resolved

Words: 5,090

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48220744/chapters/121858312

Chapter 3

Chapter Notes: Hi, my loves! This chapter is a little longer than the last one, and a little angstier, though I always try to wrap things up on a happy note. Please let me know what you all think! I love you and thank you for reading!

“Did you tell Bucky?” Were the first words to spill out of Nat’s mouth as she came rushing into your room. Wanda shot you a sympathetic look from where she was sat, cross-legged, at the end of your bed.

“No,” you replied with a resolved pout. “He didn’t text me all day. He doesn’t get to know. He can find out when he sees me next and wonder why he was left out of the loop.”

“Nice to know we’re being mature about this.” Wanda’s words were drowned out as Nat spoke over her.

“Let’s sign your cast.” You nodded towards your desk where a pencil case brimming with art supplies sat unzipped. An assortment of colored Sharpies overflowed from it. Nat went for classic black, tossing Wanda a red one. After they finished, Nat sat next to you, leaning in conspiratorially. “If you really want to make him jealous, get another guy to sign it first.”

“Another guy?” You blinked. “I don’t know any other guys. I mean, I do, but my guy friends are nerds; Bucky won’t be jealous of them.”

“Get Loki to do it,” Nat squealed delightedly. You couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows at her turpitude. Bucky was close with Thor but he absolutely despised his younger brother. But you couldn’t go that far. Bucky never talked to people you hated; you wanted to reciprocate that respect. He was your friend, first, after all. You were about to protest the idea when Wanda spoke up.

“And Erik downstairs. Bucky definitely noticed the way he eyes you up. He’s always calling the guy a cornball and looking for reasons to dislike him,” she added.

“Wanda!” You scolded, not at all surprised to hear Nat talking like this but very shocked indeed to hear it coming from your most rational friend. She simply grinned bashfully in response.

“He hasn’t texted you all day,” Wanda reminded you. “Nothing wrong with reminding him how steep the competition is out here.

“I wouldn’t want him to remind me how steep the competition is,” you argued. Nat waved her hand dismissively.

“But if he does it, he’s a douchebag because he knows you two would’ve been in a relationship already if it were up to you. He’s the one who ‘needs time’, so you can show him that if he doesn’t step up, another guy will!”

“Somehow, I don’t think Bucky is that insecure. He’d just say something like ‘if that’s what you want, then that’s that’ and never talk to me again.”

“Oh, I forgot you two love playing the emotionally mature game.” Nat wrinkled her nose in disapproval. “But if we go out tonight and you just happen to run into Erik and Loki before Bucky texts you, he’ll have no one to blame but himself.” You groaned in response.

“I just ate shit on the way home from class and spent the last three hours in an emergency room. I do not feel like going out tonight.”

“And is the alternative sitting in bed, eating peanut butter cups and complaining about how much your arm hurts and how Bucky hasn’t texted you back?” Wanda asked pointedly. You shot her a death glare.

“Maybe the peanut butter cups will keep him at bay. He is allergic,” you mused.

“Yeah, no, I’m sorry; I do not want to deal with pouty Y/N right now. Get dressed and put on your best sad, wounded puppy look,” Nat said. She eyed you for a second. “Yeah, just like that.” You groaned loudly in response, only growing louder as she stood up and made her way to your closet, flipping through your dresses.

You’d settled on a strapless emerald green mini dress and black boots, which Wanda helped you into as Nat did your hair and makeup. Since you couldn’t exactly put anything on over your sling, your jacket hung over your shoulders. You wanted to complain more, but the girls were right. You’d be in pain either way. Might as well distract yourself from it, both physically and emotionally.

You were heading downstairs when Nat slowed you all to a stop in the hallway.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Y/N?” She asked, louder than necessary. You hid your face behind your hand as you realized what she was doing. “Oh, Y/N, you poor thing. Wanda, will you help Y/N with her jacket?” Her speaking volume raised each time she said your name, making your face flush in humiliation, especially as the door to the apartment you’d stopped in front of slowly swung open, revealing a curious-looking Erik.

“Y/N? I thought I heard your name,” he said.

“A wonder how that came to be,” you mumbled under your breath. His eyes fell on your cast.

“What happened to you? Are you okay?” Concern laced his voice.

“I’m just clumsy,” you conceded with a tight smile. “I tripped reading on my way out of the library. Should’ve watched where I was going.”

“I’m glad you’re alright,” he said, his fingers ghosting your arm as he stared down at you intensely. “I thought someone hurt you; I’d have to teach them a lesson.” He gave you a crooked smile as he said it, gazing into your eyes. Out of the corner of your eyes, you spotted Nat’s triumphant grin, as Wanda had the decency to pretend to be reading a job posting stapled to the community corkboard. Jesus, Bucky was right, you couldn’t help but think. This guy really is a cornball. “Oh, hey, they signed your cast. Why don’t I add my name to it?”

“Luckily,” Nat interjected, “I happen to have brought some Sharpies. What color would you like?”

“How about gold?” Erik asked, flashing his bright, picture perfect smile. You watched Nat grow a little flustered as she handed him the marker. Of course he would pick gold, you thought to yourself. “Where are you guys headed?” Erik asked as he finished signing your cast, finally taking in your outfits. Nat’s eyes sparkled.

“We’re just—“

“Late, we are running late,” you interrupted, ushering her away with your good hand. “Nice seeing you Erik, see you around!” You called as Wanda held the door open for you all to step outside, leaving a confused Erik still standing in his doorway.

“If you don’t want him, I’ll take him,” Nat said into the evening air as the door shut behind you.

“Take away,” you sighed as you began walking to the bar where Wanda swore she’d seen Loki on Snap Map. “You know this is borderline stalking,” you reminded her.

“It is public information,” she clarified. “And we got to speak to my bachelor, so we’re doing Nat’s next!”

“It’s like the world’s shittiest game show,” you lamented. “All the douchebags and no cash prize.”

“The prize,” Wanda reminded you, “will be Bucky seeing how many men will happily take his place and be your shoulder to cry on if he ever pulls a disappearing act like he did today.” You couldn’t help but smirk at her overprotectiveness. You knew Bucky most likely got caught up in a game of pick-up basketball or was busy with schoolwork, but you couldn’t help the chip on your shoulder that you’d broken your arm and he wasn’t around to help you. So much for best friends, you thought bitterly.

You spotted Loki almost immediately after entering the bar. He was leaning against a pool table, laughing at something his friends were saying when he caught your eye. You turned to notice that Nat and Wanda had already made themselves scarce, heading to the bar to get you drinks.

“Y/N,” Loki greeted as he strutted towards you, his eyes flitting down briefly to take in the sling. “Don’t you look worse for wear.”

“Gee, thanks, Loki,” you rolled your eyes. He laughed.

“You look beautiful as ever, darling, I was merely referring to the little nylon accessory you’re currently sporting.” You sighed.

“I may be beauty but I am not grace. I tripped coming out of the library.” Unlike Erik’s concerned reaction, Loki merely tilted his head back in a roaring laugh, a sound that irritated you to your core like proverbial nails on a chalkboard.

“Perhaps not grace, but the phrase ‘beauty and brains’ does come to mind,” he conceded. He gestured towards the pool table. “I’d offer for you to join me but it seems you are out of commission for the time being.”

“I’ll watch,” you said, resignedly, leaning on a nearby pool table. You watched him play for a minute before Nat and Wanda returned, Malibu bay breeze in hand. You smiled gratefully as you sipped the drink down. Loki greeted them both in turn as he made his shot before finally looking up from his game and leaning on the table next to you. For a moment neither of you said anything.

“So,” he finally spoke. “No Buckley today?”

“Bucky,” you corrected him, his answering shrug confirming your suspicion that he already knew your best friend’s name. “And no. We haven’t spoken today.” Loki hummed in response, his expression calculating as he took in the defeated slump of your shoulders.

“Despite your recent injury,” he noted.

“I mean, I didn’t exactly text him about it,” you admitted.

“You’re still upset. Why is that, if you haven’t even given him a chance to show up for you?”

“Because,” you sighed. “I shouldn’t have to. He doesn’t ask me to show up for him, I just do it. A little reciprocity would be nice.” He hummed in response.

“You know, Y/N, not everyone shows their affection the same way you do. Just because Bucky doesn’t speak your love language, doesn’t mean he isn’t speaking his own.”

“He doesn’t speak any love language,” you scoffed. Loki’s index finger and thumb touched your chin, just for a moment, as he tilted your face up to look into his eyes. His fingers were off you just as quickly as he chose his next words.

“Listen, love. You know I think I could make you much happier than that joker ever could.” You opened your mouth to protest, but he shot you a silencing look before continuing. “And I know that there is no room in your heart for anyone besides him. But ask yourself. When is the last time he spoke to someone for this long? His reputation precedes him, you know. But with you, it’s different. You’re not a fling. Maybe he’s taking his time with you because he thinks you’re worth taking things slowly with. And maybe each time he distances himself, he’s trying to stop this from burning out too soon because he’s decided he wants you around for a long time.” You stared at him in stunned silence for a moment as he stood up and stretched, cue stick in hand. “I mean, what do I know? The guy’s an idiot. If you were my girl, I’d show you off to the entire city. And take you on a date that isn’t sneaking into AMC to see The Batman for free for the tenth time.” He shot you a smirk. “Though I suspect you enjoy that. So how about you hand me a Sharpie and I can sign that cast of yours to make him jealous, and you can head over to his apartment?”

“How did you know?” You laughed.

“Your two best friends and Erik Killmonger? Please, darling. Discreet is not your strong suit. Seeing as gold has been taken, why don’t you hand me the green one to match that pretty little dress of yours?”

The walk back to Bucky’s apartment was contemplative for you. You ran into Peter and MJ coming out of a restaurant with Tony and Pepper along the way, so you were grateful for a few more signatures from your friends to hide your stupid, embarrassing scheme. Wanda and Nat finally left you at the door to the brownstone Bucky and his roommates shared. With your good hand, you knocked shakily. It was Steve who answered.

“Y/N? What happened to you?” He asked as he took in your arm.

“Being clumsy, as usual,” you replied, peeking past him. “Is Bucky home?”

“Yeah, he’s in his room, come on in,” he said, stepping aside to let you in first before closing the door behind you. You greeted Thor and Sam playing 2K on the living room floor, brushing off their concern. Before you could make it to Bucky’s room, he came out. His hair was wet from a shower and he was wearing plaid pajama pants and the Christmas t-shirt he always wore to bed. His already plump pink lips were settled in a confused pout.

“Y/N?” He asked, his eyes dancing over your frame before making their way back to your face.

“Hey, Buck.”

“You tried to breathe and walk at the same time again?” He asked teasingly. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, though.

“Oh, this? I fell off a cellphone tower. I thought perhaps I wasn’t getting any bars since you haven’t texted me all day.” You shot back. It was semi-playful but laced with something else.

“Phone works both ways,” he reminded you in his smart-ass tone. Oh, he was upset. But why? You wondered. He hadn’t even seen the signatures yet. “I’ve been waiting for a text from you,” he confessed, opening the door to his bedroom and leaning back against it as you walked in. He joined you in sitting at the edge of his bed and brushed your jacket off your shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me as soon as it happened?” He asked as he touched your arm gently, inspecting the injury. His eyebrows shot up as he read the signatures and you felt your face flush. “Looks like you’ve been in good hands, at least.” It was hard to miss the iciness in his tone.

“Not like you care,” you grumbled. A look flashed across his face that you couldn’t mistake for anything but anger.

“I don’t care?” He asked disbelievingly.

“I didn’t mean that, I…” you trailed off unsurely.

“So what did you mean, Y/N? Besides putting words in my mouth?”

“I don’t know, I… You didn’t text me all day.”

“Yeah, because I was busy with shit. And you didn’t text me either. But you had time to have half of New York sign your cast,” he scoffed. Shit. This was a bad idea, jealousy was such a negative emotion. Why did you let Nat and Wanda talk you into this?

“Half of New York would’ve signed my cast whether you showed up for me or not, Bucky,” you cried. “I have friends, you know. I don’t just sit around waiting for you all day.” Such a lie. Yes, you did.

“I never said you did,” Bucky raised his voice to match yours. “Where is this coming from?”

“I just,” you sighed. “I just want you to show up for me.”

“All this because I didn’t text you for one day? The phone works both ways, Y/N.”

“No, not just today. I mean. Like, you ice me out. We spend the night together and you get all cold and distant after. We’re friends and then we’re more than friends but it’s always on your terms. Anytime we get too close, you push me away again.” You felt tears welling up in your eyes as you spoke despite how much you willed yourself not to cry.

“I need time, Y/N, I told you this,” he replied. His tone was even but his eyebrows were knotted together in frustration.

“Yeah, I know, but what about what I need? Reassurance. Affection. I’m not a sex doll, you know.”

“I never said you are.”

“I know you didn’t. But I feel like one. You hate when I say we’re just friends but the only time you’re intimate with me outside of that is sex.”

“So you don’t want to have sex anymore,” he concluded, the corners of his pouty lips twitching into a frown.

“No, Bucky, I want to have sex but I want more than that, don’t you get it?”

“And I’m telling you I need time. Y/N, please. I would’ve showed up for you today if you asked. I would’ve taken you to the E.R. I would’ve signed your cast first. If you texted me.”

“I…” you started, cutting yourself off with a sigh after a moment. “I know. I don’t know what I was trying to prove,” you admitted quietly.

“C’mere. Let me get you out of that dress. Which shirt do you want to wear?” He asked.

“That one,” you nodded towards the one he was wearing.

“Of course. Couldn’t make it easy for me,” he shook his head with a slight smile and pulled the shirt over his head in one swift motion. You couldn’t help but blush at the sight of his naked torso and look away even though it was nothing you hadn’t seen before. His motions were gentle and slow, his eyebrows pulled together in concentration as he helped you dress. Soon you were laid up in nothing but his Christmas tee and your panties, and Bucky remained shirtless in his pajama pants at your side.

“Where is it?” He finally asked.

“Where is what?” You replied in question, confusion lacing your tone. He quirked an eyebrow at you.

“My Sharpie,” he answered. You felt your face flush as he shot you a triumphant smirk.

“It’s in my jacket pocket,” you admitted. He fished it out, signing the available spot on your hand in bright orange. His favorite color. The signature was unnecessarily big, and he finished with a heart. You shot him a smile and he rolled his eyes at you.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it before I turn it into a butt,” he warned. You giggled and nodded your agreement, your mind racing with things to say but none of them seeming like enough.

“Goodnight, Bucky,” you breathed into the dark room after a while.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” his sleepy voice mumbled in reply. His soft snores filled the room only moments after.

[malum-forev]

Unexpected

“I can’t believe people actually fall for these kinds of things,” Bucky scoffs, flicking one of the drooping petals on the flower arrangement. “Ridiculous, right?”

He looks over at Sam, wanting some kind of backup from his partner, only to receive a shrug in response. Bucky rolls his eyes, having flowers delivered to the compound seemed so overplayed in his mind.

“No self respecting woman could actually want to date someone who outsources something like giving flowers.” Bucky mutters, his fingers itch to look at the card to see who they’re from. And more importantly, who they’re for.

“Can’t say I agree with you on this one Buck,” Sam leans back on the conference room chair, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. “Flower delivery is a normal thing in the modern world, not that I expected you to know. You’re not exactly the romantic type.”

He tries to not let Sam’s comment bug him, but it does. A lot. Back when he was alive the first time, Bucky was over the top. So over the top that some women’s knees physically buckled when they saw his gifts and acts of love. Sure, some of the things he only did to get into their pants but who cares, they were romantic nonetheless. 

Bucky tries to concentrate on your detailed plan for the mission but he’s done this a thousand times and could quite possibly complete this recon mission in his sleep and more importantly, the flower debacle is still present. The plastic vase sitting in the middle of the conference table taunts him. The folded card underneath it was basically begging for him to take a look.

He lingers after the meeting, saying some excuse about wanting to look over the documents when really, his curiosity is what’s keeping him seated. 

In his defense, your floor of the compound rarely gets any deliveries, let alone “romantic” ones. At least what people now think is romantic. Apart from Sam, himself and you, the other people on the floor are either married or forever alone. Leave the cheesy displays of affection for the lower level agents, the ones who still get the hots from one look.

Bucky looks both ways, making sure no one catches him as he slips the card from under the vase and reads it. 

Thought of you today. Have a nice week. 

“Nice week? What a loser.” Bucky blows raspberries, throwing the card back on the table. 

“Can I help you with something, Barnes?” Bucky jumps up in his spot as he hears your voice coming from behind him. 

“Just reading this extensive report,” Bucky lifts up the corners of the papers. “Great to know you have so much spare time.”

To say you and Bucky have a complicated relationship is an understatement. You think he’s a reckless agent that gets away with everything just because he was Captain America’s friend and he thinks that you aren’t reliable on the field because you second guess everything. Match made in heaven, right? Not a single mission you’ve been on has resulted in the two of you being civil. It always ends with a catfight and both of you trying to one up the other one.

“I don’t have time for this. Right now all I want is to go home and get some rest before we have to leave in a couple of days.” You roll your eyes, picking up some of the extra copies for the other agents you’re taking on the mission before grabbing the flowers from the table. 

“Are those yours?” Bucky’s voice pitches up, like he can’t seriously believe someone sent you flowers. 

“This is exactly what I don’t have time for.” You huff, leaving him behind in the conference room, wishing he’d just drop it. But knowing Barnes, and hearing his combat boots smack on the floor behind you, he won’t stop. 

“Who is he?” He raises his eyebrows, walking next to you, covering the elevator buttons with his hands so you can’t press either button. 

“Barnes,” You warn. “I’d rather not spend any more time with you than what’s required for my job.”

“Me neither,” Bucky nods. “So, if you can just tell me who sent you the flowers we can go on our way and not talk until we absolutely have to.”

“Does it matter who they’re from?” 

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up. “Of course it matters, I’ve never known you to like someone enough to give them your work address. I’ve never known you to like someone, period. So, yes, it matters.”

“Why would I tell you?” You quickly press the arrow pointing upwards as Bucky gets distracted with his dig at your non-existent love life. “So you can go and tell him what a big mistake he’s making?”

“That, and maybe I just want to know if he’s a real life breathing man.” He shrugs as you get in the elevator. “With eyes and ears and all those things one would need to know you really.”

“Great, thanks for the motivational talk I so didn’t need.” You flip him off as the doors close. 

-o-

Your head bounces against the side of the plane as you go through some turbulence but you try not to let it disturb you. But it’s something else that wakes you up, or rather, someone else. 

“I’ve come to the conclusion that he works somewhere in the compound.” Bucky drops his body in the seat next to you, his loud voice making your eyes snap open. 

“I’m resting before the mission,” You narrow your eyes at him. “And having you talk to me is messing that up.”

“You’re not disagreeing.” Bucky hums. 

“The only reason I haven’t flipped you over and dislocated your shoulder is because you have somehow gotten on Sam’s good side and I don’t want him giving me his disapproving father look.”

“Just tell me.” Bucky’s crystal blue eyes are looking straight into yours. 

“Tell you what?” You throw your head back with a groan. 

“Who the flowers are from.”

“You’re still on that?” You quirk one eyebrow.

“You never answered it.”

The questions seemed to have died down once you closed your eyes again but Bucky popped up whenever you expected him least.

You rummage through the office of the suspect that had just been killed. A doctor that was once Hydra had been trying to replicate the super soldier serum, the animal testing had been positive and a couple of dog sized rats still lived in his office. 

“Can you tell me what area he’s in?” Bucky leans on the doorframe and the sudden sound has you bringing your gun to his forehead. 

“I could have killed you just now,” You heave. “And I wish I would have, I think death is the only thing that’s going to stop you from asking all these questions.”

“You could just answer.” Bucky shrugs, looking both ways, making sure no one’s around.

“Why do you want to know?” You huff. 

“I want to know who’s romancing you.” Bucky acts like he doesn’t care, but the truth is that he’s spent the last few days with you and only you on his mind. 

The thought of you dating someone that does the bare minimum makes him frown. He’s never given a second thought to your dating life but if he had to rack his brain, Bucky would assume that you would date someone who’s competent enough to handle your wit and your moods, someone who gets your strength and doesn’t try to undermine you, someone who can handle the emotional baggage that comes with this job and doesn’t judge you. Someone who will hand deliver flowers to your apartment to show you he likes you, instead of having them delivered so that everyone thinks he likes you.

“Why do you care about my love life all of a sudden?” You snap at him and it actually stops him in his tracks. 

Bucky stares back at you with half a breath sucking in his lungs.

Love. 

You actually said the word love. 

Nothing’s ever happened between you two (except for that night the two of you spent cuddling together after neither of you wanted to sleep on the floor, but you swore you’d never speak of it again), but you’ve been a constant in Bucky’s life for years. And he doesn’t deal with change very easily. 

If you’re so freely talking about having a love life, as opposed to what? a like life? Get yourself together Barnes! he scolds himself, that means that soon enough you’ll be bringing this mediocre boyfriend around the tower, which means he’ll have to practice his “I’m trying to act like I care what you’re telling me” smile in the mirror while he’s bumped into the guy while you’re still getting ready because lord knows you love to take your sweet time getting ready! And that means that he’ll have to get a tux for your wedding because who would be stupid enough to not marry someone as intelligent and beautiful as you, and that means that you’ll take a leave for your honeymoon but knowing you, work will follow you to said honeymoon. You never stop working and Bucky’s warned you about your body taking a toll after all those years. 

“You’re one to talk.” He remembers you rolling your eyes at him the time he said it. 

God, your eyes. He’s going to miss your eyes. In the morning, you’ll look at him from over your boiling hot coffee cup. Bucky knows that you like to drink your coffee before the sun goes up because, in your words, I want to have at least a couple of minutes to myself before the world needs me. He’d never admit it to anyone but he sometimes acts like he’s had nightmares keeping him up at night just so he can share those quiet moments with you.

And after the tsunami of memories he won’t share with you anymore subsides, another wave comes crashing in. Soon you’ll be retiring, Bucky’s seen you with Morgan. It’s clear you want kids of your own some day. And you sure as hell won’t be having them when someone like Bucky Barnes is your partner. Bucky knows he’s a risk, he wouldn’t judge you if you thought it too. 

“Okay, we’re done here. I’m leaving, White Wolf hot on my heels.” You speak into the chip, making him snap out of his thoughts and return to Earth.

“As always, thanks for doing nothing, Barnes.” You laugh, slapping Bucky's shoulders as you pass him.

Bucky’s lungs burn as he runs alongside you down the corridor, trying to make up for all of the air he didn’t get as he spiraled. 

-o-

Bucky is up and it’s not because he heard the door hinges creak as you came inside or the slapping of your heels on the old wooden floor. It’s because he hasn’t been able to sleep since you left. 

He acted tired and fake yawned all the way to his room as you passed by, all maked-up and perfumed, when in reality he spent the rest of the night trying to decipher a video game someone recommended. 

Bucky’s verdict: I’ve been to war, I don’t need to play make believe. 

He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the sounds coming from the kitchen. You opened the fridge door and took a glass bottle of sorts out. From the cork popping, he figured out you were taking out your favorite wine. 

Bucky walks quietly towards the kitchen, not wanting to startle you. 

You gasp as you turn around, cork in your mouth and wine glass filled to the brim in your left hand. 

“I thought everyone would be asleep by now.” You spit the cork into the trash, lowering your face so your hair fans over your features. 

“Nightmares,” Bucky mumbles, his eyebrows furrowing at your unusual mannerisms. 

“Well, now you know who was out here.” You walk past him. “Goodnight Barnes.”

But before you can leave, Bucky holds your arm. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” You try to release from his grip but you know you’re no match for the vibranium arm. 

Bucky lifts up a trembling hand to your face and moves away your hair. Your normally bright eyes now look dull. Red blotching around your irises and black ink running down your face.

“You’ve been crying.” Bucky’s jaw tightens. 

“Thanks for that, Sergeant Obvious,” You scoff. “You’ve discovered my secret. I’m a living, breathing woman with feelings. I know they make you uncomfortable because you don’t have any but I do.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because I’m a person and as much as I would like to be as robotic as you are, sometimes people do things that hurt me.” You roll your eyes. “Next time I have feelings, I’ll make sure to take care of them before I enter the tower so you won’t be bothered.”

“Why are you crying?” He hisses, shutting his eyes before he sees red. “Who made you cry? Tell me a name and I’ll have them killed before dawn.”

“What?”

“No one makes my girl cry.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you try to understand what Bucky just said. The man who’s constantly bothering you and making your life quite impossible is threatening to kill someone just because you shed a couple of tears?

Bucky runs his hands down his face. “We’re wasting precious time here baby, just give me a name and I’ll do the rest.”

“You don’t care,” You tell him but his expression doesn’t change. “You’re not supposed to care. Why do you?”

“The other day, when you told me about the flower idiot, I may have realized something.” Bucky lets out a deep breath. “You’re my partner on the field but you’re much more than that in here.”

Your hand shakes as Bucky takes it and presses your palm flat on his chest. 

“I’m thinking of you when I wake up, hoping I catch you before you get ready. You’re on my mind when we’re training because I want to teach you everything I know, and I want you to teach me how you twisted the agent’s arm and dislocated his knee at the same time. Most of the times when we’re out on missions I’m reckless because I want to keep you safe. I don’t care what happens to me, you’re what needs to be taken care of. At night I dream of you, and then I wake up feeling hollow.”

“You’re too good for me and I know that but that doesn’t mean that some jackass can take you out and then make you cry. If that’s the standard then I’m way above average, baby.” Bucky lets out a dry chuckle. “And I know you don't want me because, who would? But-”

You slam your lips on his, stopping him completely. 

Both of you are starved for touch, wanting to explore every inch of the other. His hands roam your body as yours get tangled in his hair. 

Heavy breathing takes over the kitchen as you separate. 

“Why did it take you so long to tell me?” You rest your forehead on his. 

“Why did it take you so long to kiss me?”

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