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aquaticmercy · 20 days ago

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Of Heroes and Heartstrings (Part One)

Part 2 │ Part 3

Summary : Bucky Barnes develops a crush on the researcher who interviewed him.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her) (The reader works in academia and is writing about superheroes and how they perceive themselves in the 21st century)

Warnings/tags : Meet cute!!! Bucky crushing hard on you. Bucky's past. Sam being a little annoying.

Requested by : myself again

Word count : 2.4k

Note : I think I might turn this into a three-part series! I would love to write the about gang playing monopoly together. Let me know if you want to be tagged in part 2 or 3!

Requests are open!

Bucky wasn’t sure why he agreed to this. He wasn’t even sure why he was sitting in a tiny cafe off the beaten path, waiting for a complete stranger to interview him about… superheroes? He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, glancing at the door for the fifth time in two minutes.

It wasn’t like he had anything special to offer. Sure, people knew him as the Winter Soldier, but that wasn’t exactly something to be proud of. And superhero? That wasn’t a title he claimed. That was for people like Sam and Steve. They were the ones doing good things, saving people.

He was just trying to piece himself back together.

Yet, here he was, because Happy Hogan had sent him a message with a request that seemed harmless enough. He told him about you, how you were working on writing a paper on superheroes and how they perceive themselves for your big research project. Happy had mentioned that Sam and Yelena had already spoken with you, and they’d apparently walked away smiling.

That statement was enough to make Bucky curious.

He felt a small pang of nerves in his stomach. Maybe it wasn’t too late to just bail—

The cafe door chimed softly, and then he saw you.

Happy had shown him photos, and that sweet, determined smile of yours was unmistakable.

You stepped into the cafe with an air of calm but curious energy, eyes scanning the space before they landed on him. For a brief moment, he froze. You smiled. Not the kind of smile people gave him because they recognise him and didn’t know what to say. Your smile was genuine, bright and easy, like you were happy just to be here, ever so passionate about your research.

“Hi, Bucky, right?” you asked as you approached the table.

He nodded, feeling the slightest bit awkward but gestured toward the chair across from him. "Yeah. You’re, uh, the research… superhero… person?" He cringed inwardly at his inability to sound more intelligent.

You laughed, a soft, warm sound that pulled a smile from him before he even realized. "I guess that’s one way to put it. Thanks for meeting with me." You set your bag down and pulled out a small recorder, setting it between the two of you. He had been given the consent form beforehand, he had known that it was going to be recorded. You introduced yourself, telling him your name. He repeated it, liking the way it sounded on his lips.

"I know you probably don’t get a lot of requests like this,” you continued.

He snorted. "Yeah, not really the type that gets interviewed, but I figured Sam and Yelena didn’t give you too much grief, so…"

“They were great,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “Sam was really thoughtful. He has some incredible insights about how the world perceives enhanced and enhanced-adjacent individuals. And Yelena…” You smiled, clearly holding back laughter. “She has a very direct way of answering questions.”

Bucky shook his head, a small chuckle escaping him. That sounded exactly like Yelena.

There was a pause, not the awkward kind, but the kind where you looked at him in a way that made him feel like he was being truly seen. Like he was human. Not just as the guy with the metal arm or the assassin from his past, but as… more. It was disconcerting, but not in a bad way.

You finally broke the silence. “So, I was thinking we could start with a little bit of your history in World War II and move into what it’s been like for you since. Is that okay?”

He nodded, relaxing a little. “Yeah, sure.”

You hit the record button, and the interview began.

—

At first, Bucky gave the kind of answers he was used to giving. Short, factual. He explained his past, his ties to Hydra, his journey since. But as the interview went on, something shifted. You weren’t just asking questions to check a box—you were genuinely interested in him. You didn’t ask about the Winter Soldier like so many others had before. Instead, you asked about James Buchanan Barnes, the person. The man who fought alongside his best friend in the war, who now worked hard to make amends.

You had even done your research. You knew he was a YMCA welterweight champion back in the day, and though he was a teeny bit embarrassed, he answered your questions truthfully.

“What do you think people misunderstand the most about you?” you asked after a thoughtful pause.

That question caught him off guard. He blinked and sat back in his chair, fingers absentmindedly rubbing the edge of the table. “I think people still see me as the Winter Soldier. They don’t see me as someone trying to move on from that.”

Your expression softened, your gaze holding a quiet understanding. “But you’re more than that, aren’t you?” you coaxed, careful not to put words in his mouth.

For a moment, Bucky didn’t know what to say. The way you said it—so gently, so assuredly—it was like you had seen past everything. All the damage, the guilt, the regrets… and still believed in who he was.

He glanced down, unsure how to respond. “I’d like to think so,” he muttered, barely above a whisper.

“I think a lot of people do.” you said softly, your voice kind and warm.

His chest tightened. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had made him feel like he wasn’t defined by his past. You made him feel like he could be more.

Maybe that’s why, when the interview wrapped up and you turned off the recorder, he didn’t want the conversation to end.

“Thank you for doing this,” you said, gathering your things but not quite standing yet. “You’ve been an open book, and I know it can’t be easy.”

“It’s not,” Bucky admitted, surprising even himself with his honesty. “But… you’re easy to talk to.” He winced at how desperately that must’ve sounded. Then, he saw the way your eyes lit up at the compliment, and for once, he didn’t regret his words.

You tilted your head slightly, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Well, I try to make my interviewees comfortable so they spill all their secrets.”

Bucky smirked, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. “It worked.”

You laughed, standing up and sliding the recorder back into your bag. “I’ll try not to use my powers for evil.”

As you started to leave, something tugged at his heartstrings. He didn’t want you to walk out of his life like that. Not yet.

“Hey, uh,” he called out, rubbing the back of his neck, “if you ever need any more… info, or… whatever, for your research, feel free to, you know… stay in touch.”

Your eyes softened as you looked at him. “I’d really like that.” You pulled out your phone and handed it to him. “Here, put your number in.”

He did as you asked, feeling strangely nervous as he handed the phone back to you. You smiled again, that warm, bright smile that calmed him down.

“I’ll be in touch,” you promised as you waved and walked out of the cafe.

For a long moment, Bucky sat there, staring at the door long after you’d left. He felt lighter, somehow. Like the weight of his sins didn’t seem quite so heavy anymore.

—

Over the next few weeks, Bucky found himself texting you far more than he expected. It started off simple—follow-up questions about his experience with the Avengers, a few casual remarks about Yelena’s boldness, Sam’s “Captain America speeches.”

He had been able to introduce you to Isaiah Bradley. He hesitated about that for a moment, but after the interview, Isaiah had called him, thanking the former assassin for introducing him to someone who truly cared. Someone who truly wanted to make a difference in the world.

You continued texting, but slowly, the texts turned more personal.

One evening, he was hanging out with Sam in his apartment, soda in hand, when he heard a familiar vibration of his phone. It was you.

You : What do you like to do in your free time, Bucky? Something other than saving the world, I mean.

Bucky : Well, I enjoy board games. I play monopoly with Sam and the others every other week on Saturdays.

You : Maybe I should join you guys sometime. I’ll warn you now—I’m competitive.

He had stared at that text longer than he’d admit, his heart doing strange somersaults in his chest.

Bucky : I don’t mind a challenge.

Bucky sat on the couch, phone in hand, staring at your latest text. He had been reading it over and over for the last five minutes, trying to muster the courage to respond. His stomach twisted with nerves.

Just then, Sam’s voice broke through his thoughts, dragging him back to reality.

“Why are you looking at your phone like you’re about to defuse a bomb?”

Bucky glanced up to see Sam back from the bathroom, standing in the doorway, a smirk already creeping across his face. He’d been too distracted to notice his return.

“Nothing,” Bucky muttered, quickly locking his phone and stuffing it into his pocket, as if he was naive enough to think that would stop Sam from prying.

“Let me guess,” Sam said, walking over with way too much interest. “She texted you.”

Bucky sighed, slumping in his seat. He knew there was no escape from Sam’s teasing. “It’s not like that.”

“Uh-huh.” Sam dropped onto the couch beside him, casually crossing his arms. “I’m not stupid. I can see you blushing every time she messages you.”

“I’m not blushing,” Bucky grumbled, shifting uncomfortably. Sam had been relentless—giving him a hard time ever since he’d found out about the texts that followed your interview. You had kept in contact with Sam when you interviewed him, too— you shared the odd how are you and clarifications for research, but not to the extent that Bucky had.

The second Bucky mentioned to him that you had been texting daily, he regretted it. He knew he never should have let him see even a hint of it.

Sam wasn’t letting it go. “What did she say this time? Oh, wait, let me guess—‘I had such a great time interviewing you, Bucky. Let’s hang out more, Bucky. You’re just so mysterious and handsome, Bucky,’” he teased, his voice high-pitched as he mimicked a lovesick version of you.

Bucky shot him a glare, rolling his eyes.

Sam just grinned. “Come on, man. Just tell me.”

Bucky hesitated, but then sighed in defeat, pulling his phone back out. “She might want to join our Monopoly night. She said she’s competitive.”

That got Sam’s attention. He raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. “Oh, so now she’s getting in on game night? Damn, Barnes, you're pulling all the stops.”

“It’s not like that,” Bucky repeated, but even he knew how weak, and untrue, it sounded this time.

Sam gave him a pointed look. “Oh, it’s exactly like that. She likes you, and you like her. I’ve been saying it for weeks now, but you’re still sitting here, all brooding and shy. Just ask her out!”

Bucky shifted awkwardly. “I don’t even know how.”

“You already talk to her all the time, right?” Sam laughed, shaking his head. “Just ask her if she wants to come to game night as your date.”

Bucky blinked. “A date?”

“You know, two people who like each other doing something fun together? It’s not complicated, Buck.”

He mulled over Sam’s words, the idea both exciting and terrifying. He hadn’t thought about it in those terms, but now that Sam had said it, it made sense. You had been texting him more often than seemed necessary for research, and there had definitely been a… connection. A spark.

Sam clapped him on the shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Look, man, I’ll help you out. We’ll frame it like she’s just coming to Monopoly night, We’ll invite Yelena and Happy, since she already knows them. and maybe Rhodey, Clint, and Scott, just to sweeten the deal. Make it less awkward. You’ll ask her to be your date. No pressure, just fun.”

Bucky frowned. “And if she says no?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “She won’t. She’s already asking to hang out with you more. Besides, if she didn’t like you, she wouldn’t still be texting.”

Bucky wasn’t entirely convinced, but Sam’s confidence was enough to give him the push he needed.

“Okay,” Bucky said finally, his voice a little rough. “But how do I ask?”

Sam grinned. “Easy. Call her, don’t just text. That way she knows you’re serious. Keep it casual, though. Say something like, ‘Hey, you still want to join Monopoly night? I was thinking… maybe we could make it a date?’”

Bucky stared at him, his expression blank. “You really think it’s that simple?”

“Yes,” Sam said with exasperation, pushing Bucky’s phone toward him. “Come on, man.”

With a deep breath, Bucky pulled up your contact details. Sam watched with a smug grin as Bucky hesitated for just a moment, his thumb hovering over the call button. Then, with a sigh, Bucky pressed it, holding the phone to his ear as the line rang.

Sam gave him a thumbs-up, leaning back on the couch.

The line clicked, and your voice came through the speaker, light and warm.

“Hey, Bucky!”

Bucky felt his heart do that stupid flip again. He shot a glare at Sam, who was giving him a ridiculous “go on” motion, before speaking.

“Hey, I was just, uh, wondering if you still wanted to join us for Monopoly night? Sam, Yelena, and a few others are coming, but… I was thinking maybe you could, you know… come as my date?”

There was a pause on your end, and Bucky’s heart practically stopped. Maybe Sam had been wrong—maybe this was too soon. Then, your soft chuckle broke the silence.

“I’d love to,” you said, your voice warm and teasing. “Are you sure you’re ready to lose?”

Bucky grinned, glancing at Sam, who was nodding with approval. “I’ll take my chances.”

“Okay,” you replied with a chuckle. “Saturday, right? I’ll bring snacks. What do you like?”

“Something sweet,” Bucky answered, feeling much more relaxed now that the hard part was over. “Sam loves cookies.”

“Got it,” you said, your tone light and playful. “See you Saturday, Bucky.”

He smiled, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. “See you then.”

As he hung up the phone, Sam slapped him on the back, his grin wide. “You’re welcome, Barnes.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips, grinning like an idiot.

Maybe Sam had been right, after all.

-to be continued…

Part 2 is uploaded!

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