#I think I uhh. I forfeited that when I made this blog

[bittercherryart]

still trying to learn how to draw Max. I’m not a furry I don’t know how to draw snouts 😔

[ohtobeoneofbuckysplums]

Some Friendly Competition [BUCKY BARNES X READER]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader // Avengers x Reader 

Summary: The first time you ever interact with Bucky Barnes is over a game of beer pong. 

Word count: ~1.7k

Contains: just some good ole fluff and a bit of PG-13 language

A/N: My first fic/post on this blog! I really hope you guys enjoy this, and let me know your thoughts/give me some feedback! Requests are open, so feel free to send me some ideas or just say hi!  

 –––––

“Friday, chill sesh in the main apartment,” Tony calls out as you guys walk out of the meeting, “I’m gonna dock your pay if you miss it!” 

 –––––

The hangout is already in full swing when you arrive. 

“Lady Y/N!” Thor booms when you walk in, raising his drink to you, and you wave back laughing. Tony’s outside at the bar next to the pool, playing bartender. You walk over. 

“What can I get for you, kid?” He asks, throwing a dishrag over his shoulder. 

“Surprise me, old man,” you shoot back. 

After grabbing your drink (he made you a Margarita), you head to the ping pong table at the other side of the pool where Sam and Steve are talking. 

“What’s up, Y/N,” Sam greets with a hug. 

“Great job on the mission,” Steve says, patting you on the shoulder. 

“Easy peasy,” you say with a nonchalant wave of your hand. Your gaze catches on the red solo cups on the table. 

“Wanna go a round?” You ask Sam, shaking the ball that’s clutched in between your fingers. 

“No way, Y/N. Remember the last time we played?” he asks, and you cackle at the memory of finding him the morning after going sixteen rounds of beer pong (all of which he lost but continued to call for rematch after rematch) in a neon pink speedo and asleep on the unicorn floatie on top of the pool. You used up half of your phone’s data taking pictures of him, all of which you sent to the team group chat.  

“Stevie?” You asks, jutting out your bottom lip. He laughs at you.

“Nice try,” he says while shaking his head. Since he can’t get drunk, you guys usually play with a forfeit. Last time he had to let you pick his outfit for one day. The look on everyone’s faces when Captain America walked into the mission meeting in a hotdog suit brings a smile to your face every time you think of it. 

“You guys are no fun,” you say with a pout. 

“I’ll play a round with you Miss Y/L/N,” Peter pipes up from the couch in front of the fire pit. You raise a brow and Sam laughs, but you throw him a ball anyway. 

“Good luck kid.” 

“Okay, okay cool, I’ve only played like once at a party, but I don’t know if that counts since we didn’t have beer, so we used cranberry juice, but I feel like––” 

Bucky plucks the ping pong ball out of Peter’s hands. “You and me,” he says to you. You raise your brows, surprised that the Winter Soldier decided to even come out to one of these hangouts. You talked to him before, basic pleasantries on missions and around the tower, but haven’t really had a full on interaction with him. You ignore that though. The tequila is beginning to work its way into your bloodstream and he looks especially good in a simple black tee and jeans and you kind of want to see how good of a beer pong player the famous Winter Soldier really is. You look at him for a beat longer, giving him time to change his mind if he wants, but he simply quirks up a brow. 

“Okay, you’re on Barnes.” He flashes you a smile that makes your cheeks warm. 

“You don’t want to play her Barnes, she’ll smoke you,” Sam warns him. 

Steve folds his arms across his chest, his face adorned with an amused smile. Because honestly, he doesn’t know who would win. A super soldier with a bionic arm against an assassin with deadly aim. Each has an equal shot. 

“Eye for eye,” you both say in unison, locking eyes while tossing each of your balls. Yours makes it in while his bounces off the rim of a cup. 

“Next time, sweets,” you say with a wink. He cracks a smile and rolls his eyes. You make two of his cups, and now it’s his turn. 

Flicking his wrist, the ball plops into the cup at the center of the triangle. Your mouth melts into an evil grin. 

“Pants off.” 

His eyes sharpen. “What?” 

“You made the center cup on your first try. Pants off.” His mouth opens, about to argue. 

“Those are the rules man,” Steve says, eyes crinkling at the corners. Bucky gives him a glare that would make any other man piss his pants, but Steve just shrugs and beckons him to undress. He lets out an annoyed huff, but proceeds to unbuckle his belt. When he finishes pushing down his black jeans, he’s left in a pair of tight black briefs. Someone whistles. You can’t help your eyes as they wander down.

“Eyes up here, Doll,” he says with a smirk, and your mouth drops open. The dimple on the side of his face deepening when he sees your flustered state. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Barnes,” you say, trying to ignore the way your stomach twists when he calls you “Doll.”

 –––––

You’re currently in the lead when Nat walks over, six shots held impressively between her fingers. She hands you two of the them, gives two to Sam, and downs the last two herself.

“I would have gotten you two oldies some, but then I remembered that you guys only drink gross whiskey,” she says to Bucky and Steve. 

“How considerate,” Bucky says dryly, arms now crossed against his chest. 

You hiss when you feel the vodka run down your throat, and you scrunch up your face at the taste. 

Sam laughs. “One of the best Russian trained assassins can’t handle the taste of vodka.”

“Fuck you Big Bird,” you wheeze out, flipping him off. Sam’s mouth pops open comically. Bucky chokes on air, and Nat howls, clapping her hands together. 

“Big Bird? Big Bird?” Sam asks, eyebrows to his hairline. You all continue to laugh even harder at his affronted expression, and he scoffs. 

“The utter disrespect. Big Bird? Come on, I need a drink,” you hear him mumble to himself as he walks away. 

“I love you!” You yell. He waves you off, and you blow him a kiss. Nat’s still giggling when your favorite song comes on. 

“Your turn Barnes––oh my god, I love this song!” you exclaim. Bucky gauges the shot, and he’s just about to release the ball when you raise your arms above your head, swaying your hips to the music, and his eyes laser in on the small strip of skin that’s uncovered when your shirt rides up. His hand falters, and the ball flies to the left and bounces away and onto the ground. You smirk and wink, and his eyes narrow. 

“Distracted there, Bud?” Steve murmurs. Bucky glares at him. And out of spite, he tosses the ball while still glaring at Steve. It splashes straight into a cup. Steve raises his brows and his hands in mock apology. 

You’re both down to your last cups. He’s a formidable opponent. It’s his turn, and he makes it. You’re not worried though. 

Okay just gotta make this shot, or he wins. Easy peasy. You take a breath and release the ball. It soars in a nice arc, hits the rim, and…

rolls off the side of the cup and bounces off the table. 

Your mouth pops opens in surprise while Bucky’s stretches into a triumphant smile. 

“Rematch,” you demand. 

“Uhh, I don’t think so, I kinda like being the king of beer pong right now. Maybe another time,” he says with a smug grin. Your shock turns into a begrudging laughter. 

“Okay fine. Good game, good game,” you say, offering up your hand, which he takes, warm hand and rough callouses rub against your skin deliciously. 

You grab his tumbler of whiskey sitting on the table and down the rest in one gulp. He raises his brows, eyes focused on a drop of liquor at the corner of your mouth. 

“I’m gonna hold you to that rematch,” you say before sauntering off. He watches you leave before seating himself down on the couch. 

A hand offers him a refilled glass of whiskey, which he takes. He can’t get drunk, but it’s familiar, and Tony’s collection tastes nice. Seconds after, Steve plops down next to him. 

“So, what do you think of Y/N?” 

“She’s cool. I like her,” he says simply, not taking his eyes off the way you’re drunkenly dancing dangerously close to the pool’s edge with Natasha. Steve narrows his eyes, a knowing smile playing on his lips. 

“Shut up, punk,” he says

“I didn’t say anything!” Steve exclaims, raising his hands in defense. 

“Didn’t have to,” still gazing at you. You’re now braiding Thor’s hair, and his stomach clenches with something akin to jealousy and something else when he sees you throw back your head and laugh at something the lightening god says, wishing that that person who was making you laugh was him. That the hair you’re combing your fingers through was his. That he could laugh that easily with you. 

“Okay, whatever, I won’t push it,” Steve says, clinking his own glass to Bucky’s. 

A few moments of peaceful silence. 

“Bucky has a crush!” 

“Oh fuck you, what are you twelve?” Bucky says before pushing himself off the couch. 

“Hey––where are you going?” Captain America calls after his best friend. 

“Away from you!” 

Steve shakes his head as he laughs, raising his glass to his lips before hearing Sam’s shriek followed by a loud splash. 

“Fuck you Barnes,” Sam sputters once his head breaks through the water. Bucky just flips him off as he walks back inside. 

“What the hell did you say?” Steve asks, wiping the water droplets off of his face. 

“I just asked him why he was smiling so much!”