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jadedvibes · 2 years

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Easy

Summary: An impromptu night out at a local speakeasy results in you waking up next to your crush.

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: 18+ only, alcohol, shy!reader, drunk shenanigans, dancing, lots of fluff, flirting and cuddles, swearing, very minor angst, modern au.

Word Count: 4.2k

Like, comment, and/or reblog to put a giant smile on my face ♡

“C’mon, you have to come out with us tonight! It’ll be so fun,” Sharon exclaimed.

Steve walked into your living room. “Yeah, come with us, it’s been forever since we all went out together.”

“Ahh, I wish I could. There’s a new episode of my favorite murder podcast that dropped and I need to catch up. Busy night,” you insisted.

You couldn’t help but feel like a third wheel whenever you went out with the couple. While you loved spending time with them, getting drunk and being in their company usually led to you feeling quite lonely. You weren’t usually a sad drunk, but lately whenever you drank you couldn’t help but long for something similar to what they had. Pairing alcohol with a sappy couple to watch felt like a recipe for a minor breakdown, and you weren’t up for that.

“What if I said I got the password for that newly renovated speakeasy we’ve been wanting to check out?” Steve quirked an eyebrow.

Your ears perked up, you had all been wanting to check out that elusive bar since it reopened. Taking a moment to contemplate, you considered sucking it up and going just for the cool venue. But unfortunately it wasn’t enough to change the way you were feeling, so you shook your head. “Maybe another time.”

Steve nodded, “That’s too bad, Bucky’s coming out with us tonight and I thought it’d be nice for the four of us to spend some time together.”

Your wide eyes flickered to Sharon, a subtle smirk on her lips. You cleared your throat and looked down, not wanting Steve to know you had a crush on his roommate. “He’s um, gonna be there?”

“Yeah, he texted me confirming it a little while ago.”

Sharon chimed in, “It’ll be fun, promise. And if you’re not feeling it, we can go home or stop at a diner before calling it a night.”

“Well I guess that’s true… okay yes, I’ll go.”

The prospect of spending some time with Bucky would have gotten you to tag along just about anywhere. And while you didn’t know him very well, boy did you want to.

Sharon noticed the way you were eyeing him after you met him for the first time a few weeks back, and ever since she’s tried to convince you to make a move or stop by their apartment with her. You’d only seen him a few times in passing, but he had made an impact. Enough for your brain to fantasize and wish to know more.

Nevertheless, you were scared, afraid of the potential rejection and subsequent embarrassment that could come if you put yourself out there.

Meeting up as a group at a dusky bar was a good alternative.

┈┈┈┈┈・・

The ride over was faster than expected, stepping out of the subway, you trailed behind the happy couple as they walked hand in hand to the nightclub across the street. You missed the dark-haired man lingering near the entrance until Steve greeted him.

“Hey Buck, you didn’t wait long did you?” Steve asked.

“No, I just walked over a minute ago. Nice to see you ladies,” he gave you and Sharon a broad, radiant smile. His gaze lingered on yours for a second before returning to his best friends. “Shall we?”

Steve nodded and the four of you headed inside. Bucky let Steve and Sharon walk in first, then trailed closely behind you – you suppressed a smile when you felt his hand ghost along your lower back, gently navigating you through the throngs of patrons.

The front end of the bar was busy, with loud music blasting as people lined the bar, others sitting in the booths on the opposite side of the room. A little ways in was a dance floor, with lasers beaming over the people gleefully dancing.

The dance floor was packed, so Steve looked to you and Bucky, gesturing towards the black door at the very back of the club. Your final destination was through that door. You nodded and he went on to lead Sharon through the crowd.

Before you could feel yourself get overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people you’d have to amble through, you felt Bucky’s hand leave your lower back to grab yours firmly. With your hand securely in his, he guided you through the swaying people with ease, ensuring your path was clear, until all too quickly you were in front of the door. You felt a tinge of disappointment when he released your hand, but he had no reason to hold it any longer; it was lovely while it lasted.

Steve spoke the password through a small retractable window in the door, and then the door opened. The moment you all walked in you felt an entirely different vibe; red smoky dim lighting, a live band playing soft jazz in the corner, vintage boudoir art lining the exposed brick walls, and a couple bartenders in vests and bow ties to complete the aura. It was a stunning blast from the past, and as an added bonus there weren’t nearly as many people inside the speakeasy.

You settled into a crimson leather booth seated next to Bucky, opposite Steve and Sharon. The ambience was more laid back inside and you felt at ease because of it.

A waitress in a black flapper costume came over to take your drink orders – the novelty of the place was their specially crafted beverages; mint julep, white linen, gin rickey, the bees knees and numerous more carefully chosen to fit the prohibition era theme. Sharon quickly suggested a round of vodka for the table to start, and you all placed your drink orders to get those going too.

“It’s good to see you out, Buck,” Sharon said.

“Yeah, it’s been a while. It’s really nice to see the both of you,” he turned and grinned at you.

His adorable smile brought a flutter to your chest, and you were grateful that the waitress reemerged with the vodka shots before you had to reply.

After you all grabbed a shot glass, Steve raised his, and you all followed suit. “Alright, to a great night, with even better company,” he beamed.

Everyone clinked their glasses together in agreement and then to the wood of the table before throwing their shots back. The clear spirit warmed your chest as it went down, and you knew you were in for an interesting night.

“I love this bar, Steve. I’m so glad you picked it,” you finally chimed in.

“Oh it wasn’t me, it was Bucky. He sent me the password.”

Turning to the man beside you, “You’re into this kinda thing?” you asked in disbelief.

He gave off dive bar or maybe EDM club vibes, you’d never peg him for a jazzy gin joint kind of guy.

Bucky let out a laugh. “Well, you mentioned it was finishing up with renovations the last time I saw you. It sounded interesting, so I figured why not check it out with you guys.”

“Hmm,” you nodded with a grin. You were surprised he remembered.

The waitress returned with your drinks once more, and this time you put in the order for another round of shots. Bucky looked at you amusedly and you shrugged – you were in a beautiful bar with the best company, and you were gonna enjoy it.

Conversation flowed easily, just as the drinks; the liquor making quick work of easing your shyness. Not long after you were very glad you came out, because you were enjoying yourself immensely. Bucky’s company and attention made you feel comfortable and nowhere near how you felt when you third-wheeled.

Whenever Steve and Sharon would fall off into their own tangents, you had him to goof around with. You were happy and far from lonesome.

In no time at all, Steve pulled Sharon away to dance on the little dance floor in front of the band, leaving you alone with Bucky. You smiled to yourself when you saw Steve pull her into him, swinging her around to the beat. Seeing the way Steve cared for her, how well they meshed together, gave you some hope in the matter of love. Good guys did exist, and perhaps they were closer than you thought.

When you returned your attention to Bucky, he had his elbow on the table, propping up his chin as he gazed at you softly. Heat rose to your cheeks and you mirrored his form, propping up your own face so that you could look at him. This was the first moment you had alone with Bucky, and you were happy about that.

“Hi,” Bucky whispered shyly, his eyes holding yours.

You couldn’t fight the smile that graced your lips. “Hi, Buck.”

His smile broke free when he heard you utter his nickname; your voice softly enchanting him with just two words. “Thanks for coming out tonight, I really wanted you to,” he confessed.

“You did?” you asked, unconsciously letting out a dreamy sigh.

Bucky nodded his head before chuckling to himself. “Big time.” He looked at you with a dopey grin on his face, the alcohol or more likely his nerves brought a blush to his cheeks.

You giggled, bringing your hand up to cover your smile because he was just too damn cute and he was making you feel things; the kind of things that sent butterflies to your belly and a stirring warmth to your chest. He reached out for your hand upon its descent to the table, clasping his large one around yours. His relaxed grip felt casual – as if holding your hand was second nature and normal.

The hammering in your heart at his touch begged to differ; his hold was new and exciting.

The waitress returned with another round of drinks, and you settled on trying the mint julep this time. Bucky thanked the waitress but kept holding your hand as he reached for his old fashioned. You followed suit, clinking glasses before taking a sip, relishing the close proximity you shared with your crush.

“Oh my god, Bucky. This is so good! You have to try it!” you exclaimed enthusiastically, sliding him the drink.

“Really?” He picked it up and took a sip. His eyes widened, a satisfied smile crossing his features. “Wow, that is really good.”

“Right?” you happily sipped your drink. Your heart finally calmed to a normal rate because of how effortless it felt to be with him. No awkwardness, no self-consciousness, simply the wonderful present moment.

Steve and Sharon returned to the table excitedly, the song ending and another slowly beginning. You thought about releasing Bucky’s hand, but decided against it; he made no move and you were happy as you were. The couple slid into the booth, gleefully knocking back their new drinks, paying no mind to you and him.

Bucky squeezed your hand. “Hey, did you wanna dance?”

The new ballad was much slower and more romantic. Biting your lip, you nodded your head.

With his fingers intertwined with yours, you followed as he led you out of the booth and onto the dance floor.

You wound your arms around his neck as he splayed his hands across your back, holding you close. Swaying together, you were oblivious to anything but the music and him. His deep blue gaze held yours, and he hoped you couldn’t feel the way his heart was pounding. And when he brought his thumb up to gently stroke your cheekbone, you wished he couldn’t feel your heart speed up just the same.

“You’re really pretty, Buck,” you blurted out before your mind could process your words. Your eyes widened upon your realization and you quickly tucked your face under his neck to hide your embarrassment.

Bucky’s chest rumbled under your ear as he chuckled. “Baby, don’t go all shy on me now,” he gently coaxed you to look at him, nudging your chin with his fingers until your eyes were back on his.

Staring at him blankly, you waited for the mean joke that your honest admission would elicit. Instead you felt his warm lips press a kiss to your forehead. “You are the most beautiful girl, and you’re so damn adorable too. You never have to hide from me, okay?” Gracefully he spun you out, letting you twirl, before pulling you back up against his hard body.

“Okay,” you murmured, entranced by his eyes, heart racing as he pulled you even closer. His chest was pressing against yours, and if you weren’t drunk already you knew you would have been from his proximity alone.

This was what you wanted. The chance to see if the gorgeous guy you’d only met a handful of times was as nice as he seemed. Surprisingly, he was even kinder.

Being with him felt natural. The conversations, the playfulness, and the ease you felt in his presence. While you anticipated apprehension, instead all you felt was familiarity despite the limited time you’d known him. It didn’t make sense, but in your inebriated state you weren’t going to question it.

You were going to embrace it.

The song ended and he wordlessly led you back to the booth, releasing his hand, you slipped into your seat. But as soon as you were both situated back in place, you wrapped your arm around Bucky’s, clinging to him and his comforting warmth. Bucky grinned to himself before softly kissing your temple and settling his hand on your knee. Inhibitions were out the window and neither of you could keep your hands to yourself.

Steve and Sharon looked at you two amusedly, cheeky smiles spread across their features.

“Hey guys,” Sharon broke the silence. “Good dance?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, taking a big sip of your drink. Bucky whispered in your ear asking if you wanted the luxardo cherry in his drink, and you giggled before nodding.

Steve nudged Sharon, wordlessly asking her not to press you two about your sudden affection. The couple watched on as Bucky playfully brought the cocktail skewer with the cherry toward your mouth before you captured it between your teeth.

“Thank ya, old sport,” you babbled before chewing.

Bucky let out a laugh, his eyes alight with amusement. “You’re most welcome, doll,” he said, booping your nose.

You both broke out into a fit of giggles, and the couple before you could not believe their eyes. Sharon was over the moon inside because she knew how you felt about Bucky, and Steve’s hunch about Bucky’s feelings towards you were confirmed quite apparently.

“Did you guys wanna get another round?” you eventually asked, remembering that you had company.

Steve turned to Sharon, and she shrugged. “I could go for another shot. What do you guys think?”

The guys nodded in confirmation, both deciding to head over and grab it from the bar themselves. Once you were left alone with Sharon, she got to interrogating.

“Girl, what is going on with you and Bucky?!” she grinned.

You hiccuped before beaming at her. “I don’t know, but I like it! He’s so nice, and he thinks I’m adorable and he’s so handsome, Sharon. I wanna take him home, keep him forever,” you blabbered, trying to maneuver your straw into your mouth with your tongue.

She pressed her lips together to stop the laughter that bubbled up inside. Her best friend had it bad for her man’s best friend, what a perfect situation.

“You should, you both look good together,” she smirked. She wanted you to experience the world with someone great and from what she knew, Bucky was definitely one of the good ones. “Do you want to stay over at their place tonight?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “They’re like a five minute walk from here.”

Your eyes widened, that was such a good idea. “Oh my goodness, yes. Let’s ask them!”

The guys returned with the shots, and Sharon asked Steve and Bucky what they thought.

“You both are always welcome over,” Steve said kindly.

“Of course, always,” Bucky reassured with a smile. He’d happily sleep on the couch if it meant getting to spend a little more time with you.

“Then it’s settled.” You curled yourself up into his side, his arm wrapping around you. You were gonna seduce the hell out of Bucky Barnes.

┈┈┈┈┈・・

You didn’t register the way he maneuvered your body so that you were tucked in under the sheets or the shift of his weight on the other side of the bed.

It was only as the sun began to rise that you realized that you felt cozy – drowsily observing that you were much more snug and secure than normal. This wasn’t a cause for concern for your groggy brain, until you heard breathing and noticed that you weren’t alone.

What the hell.

Cautiously opening your eyes, you saw Bucky’s sleeping face. His breathing was evened out, chest rising and falling under you. Only then did you realize your head was resting on his shoulder, your hand splayed out across his broad chest. His arm was around your waist, and your thigh was drawn up and across his legs.

Did you hook up with him last night?! Oh god, you did, you totally did.

You were moments from freaking out when he shifted underneath you, squeezing your waist and placing his other hand on your bare thigh. You were trapped in the hold of the man you must have thrown yourself at last night, and that was bad.

“I can hear your racing thoughts, baby. Go back to sleep,” he muttered without opening his eyes.

Unable to contain your gasp, you watched as Bucky smiled to himself, still trying to sleep.

“Bucky,” you whispered.

He groaned under you, mumbling out a soft “no” as he refused to move or speak.

You bit your lip to stifle a smile. He was so cute and grumpy in the morning. Taking a deep breath, you nuzzled your face into his chest. Maybe you could postpone your freak out until after a couple more hours of sleep.

Bucky woke up a little after nine, your warm body still surrounding him. He smiled to himself, enjoying the feeling of having you so close. He vaguely remembered you waking up earlier, and he was glad that you didn’t leave.

Peeking down at you, he couldn’t stop himself from gently brushing his finger over your cheek, taking a moment to admire you. He could get used to waking up like this, your perfect soft curves against him – his ideal blanket.

Lightly he traced the outline of your lips with his finger, looking forward to tasting them soon.

Your eyes slowly fluttered open, and you saw Bucky watching you with an adorable smile.

Embarrassed, you quickly brought your hand up from his chest to cover your eyes. If you can’t see him, he can’t see you, right?

“Baby,” he let out a laugh, rubbing circles into your hip with his thumb. “I thought I told you last night that you never had to hide from me,” he whispered soothingly.

You wondered how he was so calm and cool, but then you remembered that he always was. His relaxed demeanor is one of the first things you noticed about him. Cautiously letting your hand fall back to his chest, you loosened up when you saw the softness and sincerity in his gaze.

“Sorry,” you mumbled nervously. “Um, did we?” you didn’t know how to ask, so you vaguely gestured between you two. You had hoped that you would remember your first time with Bucky, but unfortunately you didn’t even recall how you got in his bed or how you ended up in his shirt.

“No, we got back, and you asked me for something to change into while I got some water. I didn’t hear movement for a bit and I thought you’d fallen asleep so I set myself up on the couch. But then you came out all groggy, saying that you needed cuddles,” he smiled as he recollected the memory.

Even though he was completely drunk, he still remembered how precious you were. “You tried to get those cuddles on the couch until I decided to bring us back here.”

You weren’t ready for all the details of what you did, but you distinctly remembered a different plan that involved more seduction; it was hard to believe that you ended up opting for cuddling instead. Although, given how peaceful the sleep was, you were grateful to your drunk counterpart. She knew what was best at the time.

“Wait, so really nothing happened?” you asked disbelievingly, alcohol had a tendency to make you amorous and you needed to be sure.

He grinned as he shook his head again. “I think we might’ve wanted to earlier in the night, but we were too tired and drunk by the time we got back,” he answered honestly.

Heat rose to your cheeks, he knew you wanted to, and that was supposed to be your secret. You were about to shrivel into embarrassment again but then you realized he said he wanted to as well.

Finally, you gave yourself full permission to open up to the sweet man. You didn’t need alcohol to fuel your confidence, he liked you and you liked him – there was nothing to bottle up or overcomplicate.

“Do you think we kissed?” you bit your lip. The night was coming back in bits and pieces, but you couldn’t recall that.

Reaching out, he dusted his thumb over your lip, before stroking your jawline, subtly relaxing you. “I know I’d remember that, so no, not yet. Soon though,” he stated with certainty, as if it was an indisputable fact.

You smiled coyly. “So what happens next?”

“I’m thinking bagels with my girl, if she’s up for it,” he squeezed your hip.

His girl.

Bucky was so straightforward and direct, you didn’t have to guess where you stood with him, he made his intentions apparent. You adored that about him.

“I’m very up for it. I need a cure for his hangover. But… I also don’t want to leave this bed. You’re ridiculously comfortable.”

He beamed, “I can run down to get some, it’ll only take me ten minutes.”

“You could, but then I’d lose my new favorite pillow,” you teased, fingers dancing across his chest.

“Well then it’s a good thing your new pillow likes doing his job and will happily do it some more after he gets some food in your system.”

“Yeah?” The prospect of spending the morning cuddled up in bed with bagels and Bucky was too perfect.

“Yeah,” he sat up with you still in his grip, reaching out for his water. He let you sip some before drinking a bit himself. “Give me ten minutes, I’ll give you a change of clothes in case you wanna shower, then we’ll be right back here, okay?”

Nodding your head you leaned over and kissed his cheek. He made a dramatic show of getting out of bed, not wanting to leave, but knowing he’d have you back in his arms before he knew it.

Quickly he brushed his teeth, then let you know there was a spare toothbrush on the counter. He also set out a big henley with some boxers for you to change into if you wanted. In a flash he pressed a kiss to your forehead before lugging a sweatshirt over his shoulders and nearly running out the door.

It seemed he really was eager to get back to you.

You took some time to shower and clean up, needing a refresher after the night out. Bucky was back by the time you got out, and he slipped in right after you. You were out in the kitchen drinking coffee with Steve and Sharon, when he stepped out of his room, wet and shirtless with a towel wrapped around his waist. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of his well-built muscles, you couldn’t believe he had all that going on.

“You’re coming back right?” he pouted adorably.

The two of you spent the morning in bed, munching bagels, recovering from your hangover, and getting to know one another. The night before expedited a few dating steps, but you liked learning more about Bucky while snuggled up in his arms. He told you all the little things about you that made him develop the biggest crush, and you told him your many reasons for crushing on him too.

Not long after, you shared your first kiss. His lips warm and soft as they moved against yours, slowly as if he was memorizing the way you felt. You didn’t know it then, but he was. His tongue glided into your mouth, his hands coming up to move your face, changing the angle of the kiss.

He wrapped his arms around you as he kissed your lips unhurriedly, discovering how right you felt in his grasp, and kissing you some more. Until the need for air became too great, until you both realized how intoxicating the connection between you felt.

As his beautiful blue eyes held yours, you could feel that this relationship wouldn’t be a difficult one. He was too considerate and honest for you to have to worry.

Your heart knew without a doubt that your future with Bucky would be joyful, silly, sweet, and easy.

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buckrecs · 1 year

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Clingy / Drunk Bucky Fic Rec

I binge read clingy & drunk bucky oneshots till 2am and now that i’m conscious i’m gonna make a list.

Clingy by @sleepypanda27

Steve and Sam bring home drunk Bucky, the reader takes care of him. It’s fluffy.

Crazy In Love by @/sleepypanda27

Bucky is in love and he doesn't care what others think about it

In Your Arms by @writemarvelousthings

goes to bed early because they're tired, but soon after comes back out of the bedroom to get their partner because they don't want to be in bed alone.

Sober Thoughts by @tropicalcap

James Barnes doesn’t get drunk, until he does.

Maybe Later by @lovelybarnes

"marry me" "maybe later"

You’re way too drunk by @storiesnobodyreads

reader goes out with friends and gets a little too drunk. She calls Bucky, her boyfriend, who is overprotective and comes over to the club.

Drunk by @lifeasadorkwithnolife

You took Bucky out to a bar, seeing how you two were getting back from a tiring mission with HYDRA, and Bucky needed to loosen up.

Pudge by @buckyalpine

Bucky being absolutely adorable.

Cheeky by @/buckyalpine

Bucky Barnes does not back down from a dare.

you know what rhymes with drunk? sex by @seventven

bucky comes home drunk after a night out with sam.

Drunk Words are Sober Truths by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

Bucky gets a little inebriated at a party and his loose lips let his secret slip.

Once Upon A Good Time by @shamevillain

Bucky wants attention so he’s going to use your biggest weakness to get it.

Drunk Buck Running Amuck by @coffee-with-bucky

Bucky is drunk and absolutely giddy with affection and you don’t know whether to thank or kill Thor

morning by @lovelybarnes

person a won’t let person b out of bed by cuddling them + person a peppering kisses all over person b’s face

Guess What’s On Your Mind by @tellmealovestory

Are you drunk?

You’re not going to work by @winter-soldier-vibes

Bucky comes back from a long mission so excited to see you. Little does he know, you have a full schedule that day. At least, you planned to. No way is he going to wait any longer.

Drabble by @pellucid-constellations

Fluff with drunk Bucky

Waking Up in Vegas by @wxntersoldiers

a weekend in sin city can change everything.

fuck it by @mellowswriting

Thanks to a little Asgardian liquor, Bucky gets drunk for the first time in almost eighty years. He’s more than willing to engage in a little drunken shenanigans with you.

I Think I Wanna Marry You by @likeahorribledream

During an after party at the Tower, you’re introduced to a new side of your best friend: Drunk Bucky. And Drunk Bucky has it bad for you. Really, really bad.

drunk off you by @cunaeparker

asgardian liquor comes in clutch, sam’s a cockblock, and tony’s parties have a tendency to get spicy.

Gone with the mead by @writingsoftheloser

There’s a limbo between confessing one’s feelings and the use of ‘I love you’ that’s filled with amazing, strange and sometimes insecure things. Or the one where Bucky Barnes underestimated Asgardian mead.

Guy’s Night by @teamcap4bucky

You used to think that Hydra missions were your worst nightmare. Then the boys started having “Guys Night,” and you realized just how wrong you were. Nothing ever good comes from this night...or does it?

drunken proposals by @bluehourbucky

too much alcohol leads to proposals

Imagine by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord

Imagine Bucky being drunk.

Day Off by @softlyspector

Bucky really wants to take a nap with the reader, but she just wants to read. (Bucky is a giant dog who needs a lot of attention)

#bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #clingy!bucky #needy!bucky #drunk!bucky

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starandcloud · 5 months

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Black Widow Fluff

Natasha romanoff x reader

Tw: Love drunk Natasha, Chaotic Y/N, Concerned Bucky, Peter abuse /j

Marvel Mainlist

Mainlist

Today was like every other day, Natasha loving looked at you as you played with Peter. Nothing all to odd until Bucky, in a very concerned voice, asked.

"Should... we... I intervein?" "No..."

Natasha said, her voice light and airy as she watched you blissfully.

"Natasha Y/N is attacking Peter" "So pretty..."

Bucky tried to persuade Natasha to step in and she kept refusing.

"They're just so cute and adorable~"

She stated, watching you pick up a chair,

"uhuh..."

Bucky said, very concerned for Peter as he watched you throw the chair and nearly take Tony's head off with it

#natasha romanoff playlist #natasha x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha x you #natalia romanova #black widow x reader #marvel mcu #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #Chaotic Y/N #Love drunk Natasha #Concerned Bucky #faeriesberries

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punkyarabella · 1 year

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"You make the bad thoughts go away"

Summary: Bucky knocks at your door, drunk after a boys night.

Warnings: fluffy fluff, that's it

461 words

Masterlist

It's well past midnight when Bucky knocks a bit too loudly on your door. He can hear you shuffling inside, and a moment later, you open the door, wincing at the light.

"Oh, you were asleep," he grimaces.

You don't miss his hazy eyes and the smell of ethanol surrounding him. You lean on the doorframe, crossing your arms.

"Had a fun night?" you chuckle.

"It was boys night, Steve brought that liquor he got from Thor, really strong stuff," he nods and you laugh.

"I can see that," you eye him from head to toe.

He's struggling to stay upright, his left arm holding on to the wall next to the door, above your head.

"I'm sorry, kiddo. 'thought maybe you'd be up, did not want to wake you up," he shrugs.

"I'm up now. Wanna come in?"

He blinks before nodding. He follows you inside, and you turns on the lamp on your nightstand, so he wouldn't hit anything on his wobbling way to the bed. You chuckle.

"It's like watching Bambi learn how to walk," you shake your head as you push the covers away.

"Ah, Bambi, the little fawn," he points, "got that one."

"You're goofy when you're drunk," you laugh.

He chuckles as he struggles to take off his shirt. He eventually tosses it on the floor, quickly followed by his pants. He's about to join you in the bed, but he notices that you are wearing one of the Stark Industries shirts that you got on your first week at SHIELD. So he picks up his shirt from the floor and hands it to you. You raise an eyebrow.

"My shirt's better," Bucky states.

You laugh, again, and take it.

"Turn around."

He faces the wall, and tries to keep his drunk mind from picturing what you could look like as you exchange the shirts. On your signal, he turns around and smiles at the sight.

"You're gonna come into the bed or what?" you pat the empty space next to you.

"I obviously can't refuse an offer like that, doll," a chuckle slips past his lips and your stomach twists at the nickname.

Bucky eventually slips under the covers, and immediately wraps his arms around your torso, to pull you against his chest. You smile, little fireworks going off in your stomach, as he squeezes you tighter. Your fingertips find the skin of his pecks and you draw intricate designs.

"Your hands make the bad thoughts go away," he breathes out.

You smile and have to physically hold back a squeal. You pull your head away to look up at him, smiling softly.

"Anytime, Bucky."

He smiles, his eyes barely open now, and kisses your forehead, before pulling you even tighter against him again.

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #drunk bucky barnes #fluff #sweet #bucky barnes #winter soldier #soft bucky barnes

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emmis15 · 22 days

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Bucky Barnes Jazz Bar ๋࣭ ⭑

―How did you know about this place? It's 19 years old― my hand was holding hers as she led me to a huge bar with a red sign.

Everyone was dressed elegantly, forming a long line around the place, each of them in suits or dresses, elegant shoes, and shiny jewelry, making me feel out of place as I was dressed in blue jeans, a black shirt, a dark blue blazer, and normal black shoes.

Cass looked beautiful, and for the occasion, she was so herself. She wore a long burgundy red top with a black knee-length skirt, burgundy boots, a long black leather coat, and her burgundy purse where she kept the keys to my bike and my few belongings as I didn't know where we were going.

―I have friends outside the superhero world, and my last name isn't just for death threats or kidnappings; it's also for jumping the line right now― she said with a simple smile, pulling out a white card with a golden number on it and handing it to the security guard with his arms crossed against his chest.

With a simple smile, she handed a white card with a golden number on it to the security guard, who then let us pass by moving aside the rope separating the entrance from the line. Her hand never let go of mine as she guided me through the environment of red armchairs, alcohol, tables, and a stage in front of all the seating areas.

―¿What can I help you with tonight?― a waitress approached us with her uniform and a black tray with small glasses of orange liquid with orange slices inside.

―Good evening, I'm Cassidy Stark, and I reserved a table in the upstairs area; if you could take us there, it would be excellent― she sounded so serious and kind at the same time.

A bit hypnotizing the way she interacted with others, using her privileged position to get things done, something I was used to seeing her do at the complex, albeit in a disheveled manner and always with laughter in her voice.

―Follow me, Miss Stark.

The woman started walking ahead of us, guiding the way from the ground floor, which was filled with people already sitting at tables in front of the stage, having drinks or food and patiently waiting with little chatter to avoid drowning out the smooth jazz that was playing by the live bands tonight. We stood in front of some stairs a few meters from the stage against the wall. These stairs had a ribbon like the one outside but this time with a white sign hanging from the burgundy velvet that read "VIP."

―The reservation was for table 3 next to the bay, ¿right?― she asked as she looked at something on a computer.

I didn't know anything, and I was more focused on seeing the place and its mysterious and reserved aesthetics. But as I looked around and tried to read the decorative signs hanging on the walls, I heard Cass's affirmative voice along with the clinking sound of metal.

―Let's go, Buck― she pulled my hand as she climbed the stairs, leaving the waitress behind to be just the two of us along with a few others upstairs.

We had the best view of the stage, and the lights above were closer, almost as if it weren't for the warm, red lights, we would be in the dark.

―It's a new and exclusive bar because of its mysterious nature and the few reservations it allows. People outside are waiting in case there's room inside, even to stand and be with the people listening to unknown Jazz bands, indie music actually but soft from the aesthetics of the place.

―¿Why did you do this?― I asked as I looked around.

―You need to go to places with people who aren't from your environment. It's called exposure therapy, and since you said you liked jazz, well― she gave me a small smile before we sat facing each other.

―¿So it's like a date?― I asked with a raised eyebrow.

―Something like that.

I chuckled a bit, shaking my head before turning to the candlelight in the middle of the table, casting a warm glow on Cass's face.

―¿Whiskey as usual?― she asked, taking her gaze off the menu to look at me.

―Something normal. You know I don't like those trendy drinks nowadays― I looked at her with a small smile.

―You should try something new in your drinks to know that there are more things than the harshness and pain of whiskey― she left the menu as we heard the voice of a man.

We turned to see the waiter, who was dressed like the girl before, holding a notebook and a pen.

―I'll have an espresso martini, and he'll have a whiskey The Macallan 1926, please― she sounded very firm but kind, giving him a smile.

―¿For food?

―I'll have spaghetti with bolognese ragout― she sounded so good speaking Italian that I didn't think about what I wanted to eat.

They both stared at me, waiting for my response, so I stared back at the guy, trying to compose myself.

―The same as her, thanks― I said in a deep voice.

He left, and I heard Cass's laughter faintly, to the point where I also laughed a bit with her.

―¿Do you even know what you ordered?― she asked incredulously, playing with the napkins.

―No, I'm somewhat scared it might be the worst thing I've ever tasted in my life. I really hope it's delicious― I said, feeling the live music starting to play.

It was calm with light drums and a marked rhythm, with a bit of electric guitar in the background along with a guy singing into the microphone artistically. The song seemed to be about a woman, or at least that's what I thought from the way "She" was repeated.

―It's a Bolognese pasta, but the meat is cooked with milk and white wine. The noodles are a bit thicker than usual, and it's served with grated cheese on the sides― she explained with a small smile.

―It doesn't sound so bad, but the idea of meat cooked in milk and wine sounds disgusting due to the combination.

She shrugged her shoulders, staring fixedly at the stage with attention, her right hand holding her chin with her elbow resting against the table, and her left hand playing lightly with the plants on the railing.

―Your drinks and your plates, and in 5 minutes, your food will be ready― the guy brought the white plates with food and the glasses with the wine bottle.

―Thank you― Cass said, getting comfortable, waiting and watching how they left our food.

The plate was white with clean edges, and the pasta in the middle with the sauce spread nicely, with the touch of cheese on the sides slightly raising the mountain with pieces of meat and tomato randomly placed.

―Enjoy.

He left, and my girlfriend took a photo of her plate along with the glass.

―I don't understand why you do that― I said as I took a sip of my drink.

―¿What?― she asked, putting her phone down near the railings and placing the napkin on her lap.

―The photo of your food. I don't understand why you take a picture of your food.

―Because it's pretty, and I want to take a picture of it. Besides, I like posting them in my stories because it looks nice and aesthetic― she began to eat her food lightly.

―I don't understand this modern era. In my times, photos were taken of people and landscapes.

I tried to mimic the way she ate and picked up the pasta from the plate.

She shook her head while laughing before looking back and listening to the music, her foot tapping a bit against my leg, marking the beat of the song.

We spent the night until around 2 am listening to the same guy with his band, drinking a bottle of red wine and finishing the food with a strange frozen dessert that had a chocolate brownie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream prepared with champagne according to the dessert menu.

―Thank you, have a good night― the waiter left after Cass swiped her black card.

―¿Shall we, Buck?― she asked, getting up carefully and with her jacket on, along with her bag.

―¿Are you okay?― I asked, standing up.

―Just a little dizzy― she gave me a small smile.

I took her hand carefully to help her down the stairs, seeing how, despite the time, the bar was still full of new people, and the line outside had the same number of people.

―¿Why are there still so many people?― I asked confused.

―The bar is open until 5 am― Cass replied as she brushed her hair out of her face, breathing in the fresh air.

We both walked to my bike slowly, enjoying the cool spring air with the few stars in the sky.

―Buck― Cass stopped us a few meters from the bike, her hand on her chest, looking at the ground.

I thought the worst; two months ago, her "heart" had suddenly stopped while she was chatting with the guys at dinner, and she was in intensive care until this week when she finally got rid of her tube and some pills to take and eat solid things, but we were all worried. I think if Cass were to shut down right now on the street, and knowing I only have 5 minutes to get her to the complex doctors, I wouldn't mind killing people in my way to the middle of the forest far from the city just to save her.

―¿What's wrong, Doll?― I asked worriedly, placing my hand on her shoulder.

Her head lifted to look at me with her eyes before throwing herself into my shoulders and kissing me forcefully, putting her hands on my left shoulder and on my hip, smiling in the middle of the kiss.

―Thank you for giving me a very nice night; I needed to forget about my life for a moment― she whispered on my lips.

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onginlove · 10 months

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The Drunk, The Sober

——————-

BUCKY X Y/N

Rating: I honestly don’t know. Pg 14?

Summary- Once again, Tony is throwing a party! You decide to try out some alcohol since Thor was there. The night gets weird.

Warnings- insecure y/n? cursing. fluff? I’m very bad at writing drunk stuff, things- so if I’m even remotely wrong I’m so sorry T-T

——————-

Ask you got out the shower and wrapped your towel around your body, you heading into your room to try and find a outfit perfect for you.

You decided to wear a nice light blue dress that was very flowy. You didn’t want to wear any of the outfits Natasha have you because it showed off your extra fat you were worried about.

As you put on the dress, you looked in the mirror to see how well it fit you. “Well done y/n. You found the perfect dress.” You said to yourself. When you were grabbing your stuff, about to head down to Tony’s party, you heard a ding from your phone.

‘Hey Y/N/N! Everyone is waiting for you.’ You saw Natasha text.

‘I’ll be down in a sec.’ You texted back. As you got your little handbag, you hurried downstairs, n it wanting anyone to wait any longer.

—-

You heading inside and you saw everyone there. Tony was with Rhodey, Steve and Bucky was with Thor, and Natasha was with Maria.

As you went towards Natasha and Maria, they both turned your way to see your beautiful dress. “Nice dress. Sad you didn’t wear one I got you though.” Natasha said as she looked at you up and down.

“When the time is right.” You said.

————-

You, Natasha, and Maria has been talking for almost an hour. It was a fun hour too. You considered them your best friends. Since Maria isn’t always around you only have Nat.

You were all talking and laughing until Nat and Maria stop laughing and was looking behind you. You were confused so you turned around to see a tall man standing behind you.

“Oh, Shit, Bucky you scared me!” You said as you put one of your hands over your chess. “Sorry, I didn’t mean too.” He responded. “I was just coming over to ask if you would want a drink with me.”

“Oh, I don’t drink.” “First time for everything.” You were trying to resist drinking alcohol, but Bucky was asking you. You had a crush on Bucky for so long that you were willing to do anything for him.

“Fine. Just this once. See ya later girls.” You walked with Bucky over to Steve and Thor. Thor had his hard liquor that you were gonna drink. The other two just had regular alcohol because they didn’t want to get drunk.

Thor poured a shot/cup of it for you. With hesitation, you downed it quickly with an after face of disgust and shock. “Worst thing I ever had. But it was also kinda good?” You said. They all laughed.

————-

Many, many drinks of the hard liquor later, you couldn’t even stand up without tumbling over.

“I want another.” You said. “No, no. No more. You already had like…23.” “I only see two.” You said.

“Alright, yea, that’s enough. You can’t even see straight.” Bucky looked at Thor. “Next time when she asks for more, don’t give her any.” Thor nodded as he was chuckling at your drunk self.

“Y’know Bucky, you look very nice in that suit.” You said. “Uhm, thanks. It’s just like any other suit.” “No, this one makes your eyes sparkle.”

Shut up y/n.

“Ok, that’s the liquor talking. Time to get you to bed.” “No, I can stay up forever. I’m not even that effected by it.”

Bucky just rolled his eyes and picked you up. You were, well, trying to, walk with him upstairs but you always collapsed.

Finally making it to your room, Bucky place you down on your bed.

“Ooo! Fun idea, let’s binge walk gossip girls.” “You mean ‘watch’?” “That’s what I said.”

——————-

3 seasons later, you were starting to fall asleep with your head on Bucky. During the gossip girls, you always mentioned how one character looked like him. He always chuckled at that. Him laughing made you happy.

He set you properly in bed and covered the sheets over you.

“Hey Bucky,” “Yea?” “I have a surprise for you.” “What is it?” “Close your eyes.”

You watched as he closed his eyes and you sneaked a peek at his lips. Next thing you know was your lips was touching his. After a few seconds of the kiss, your lips parted.

“Gosh you’re so drunk.” “What do you mean?” “You kissed me, Y/N. I can tell you’re very drunk.”

“Have you ever heard drunk mind speak sober thoughts?” You asked. He just looked at you, and walked towards your door. “Goodnight Y/N.” And he closed the door.

You were staring at the door for a little while, wondering why he just left. And then went to sleep.

—-

A/N- Hiya! Sorry this was pretty crappy and not my best work. I only read about ppl getting drunk, not actually write about it 😅. I am going to make a part 2 so make sure you stick around for that! You can send your Bucky x y/n ideas and maybe I’ll do them :)

Thanks for the reblogs!

#james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #marvel #drunk y/n #this is crappy oml

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sapphireginger · 9 months

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Title: I Can’t Drink or Think Straight!

Summary:

“I’m soo gay, so gay, so gaaaaaay. I’m so gay, what can I say!”

His friends laughed and just shook their heads at him.

Prompt: “I Love You, You Idiot.”

Warnings: Alcohol

Fandom: Teen Wolf & Marvel

Relationships: Stilucky [Stiles Stilinski + Bucky Barnes]

Word Count:

@mfbingo

I’m so gay, I can’t even drink straight.

Stiles got a rainbow mug from a sex shop with that phrase and proudly drank from it.

“I’m soo gay, so gay, so gaaaaaay. I’m so gay, what can I say!”

His friends laughed and just shook their heads at him.

He shot each of them a smile. “What? You all know it’s truuuuuuuue!” His phone rang and he checked to see who it was. He was a bit tipsy as he answered. “My boo!”

“You’re drunk, babe.”

“Uh huh. B-But. *hic* Guess…Guess what?” he said with a giggle.

“What?” the other man asked, his tone giving away fondness.

“I’m gay. Shhhh.”

“I would hope so, love. You’re engaged to me after all.”

Stiles gasped. “My boo is my fiancé!!” he crowed. “I gotted a mug boo! It says, I’m so gay I can’t *hic* even drink *hic* straight!” Stiles giggled and his fiancé sighed.

“Where are you?”

“Guess?” Stiles demanded. He didn’t notice one of his friends texting his fiancé the address.

“I’m on my way.”

Stiles pouted. “You didn’t guess.”

“I’m sorry, love. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Yeah?” Stiles breathed with a soft moan. “How?”

“You’ll have to wait and see. It’s a surprise.”

“A surprise?! All for me?”

“All for you, sweetheart.”

Stiles giggled and a dopey smile formed on his face. “You’re the best, Bucky.”

“Thank you, love.”

“Like the very *hic* bestest ever in the whole entire *hic* wide entire world. Wait! The entire galaxy!”

“I don’t know about that, love.”

Stiles smiled. “You are. Remember I’m *hic* stubborn. So, you just have to deal with it. You won’t change my mind.”

“Well, I love you anyway.”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Sure about…?”

“I love you, you idiot.”

“Hey! I’m super *hic* smart!”

“You are, love, just a bit drunk huh?”

“Mmmmaaaaybeeee? Are you mad?”

“No. You’re adorable.”

“Well, you’re the best, pretty, cute, gorgeous and you’re all miiiiiiine!” Stiles crooned.

"Yes. All yours, handsome." Bucky was smiling as he took the elevator to the top floor and made his way to the apartment.

Stiles's friend opened the door when Stiles's fiancé knocked, and in walked the one and only James "Bucky" Barnes. He couldn't help chuckling when Stiles continued talking to the phone while looking at him with a dopey grin on his face. Bucky supposed they would not be going out for their anniversary after all, but he didn't mind a bit. They could celebrate at home, in pajamas, with takeout and a movie just as easily. He knew exactly which movie too.

"Come on you."

Stiles grinned. "Hi. Oh! Wanna a drink?" he asked, offering his mug.

Bucky chuckled and shook his head. "Not now. One of us needs to be sober for the drive home."

"'M sorry," Stiles mumbled, rubbing his cheek against his fiancé's chest. "Bad Stiles."

"No. It's all right, love. Come on. Let's go home."

Stiles looked up at him and pouted. "You can have a drink to make up for it?"

Bucky paused at the elevator and glanced at Stiles. "Hmm. How about a kiss instead?"

"A kiss?!" Stiles exclaimed with a gasp. "Yes, please but wait, I have alcohol breath."

Not caring about such a thing, Bucky leaned down to kiss Stiles with a soft nip to the other man's bottom lip and then tugged it. When he pulled back, Bucky was satisfied with the wide eyes of his fiancé and how he already looked so perfectly ruined. Perhaps he would add some smexytimes—Oh goodness Stiles was rubbing off on him—to the agenda for tonight once Stiles had sobered up more.

The elevator dinged and the two men got on. Stiles leaned closer and kissed Bucky's cheek. "Thank you for coming *hic* to get me and for *hic* loving me."

"Always, love," Bucky said softly, loving this softer and sweeter side of Stiles though he did prefer it when Stiles was that way from being sleepy rather than drunk, but Bucky loved every part of Stiles and wouldn't change him for the world. That was what it meant to love someone after all.

#mfbingo #square filled: I love you you idiot #teen wolf #marvel #stiles stilinski #bucky barnes #bucky x stiles #stiles x bucky #stilucky #fluff #drunk stiles stilinski #adorable stiles stilinski #engaged bucky barnes/stiles stilinski #alcohol #multifandombingo

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winniewings · 2 years

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Liquored lips (Bucky Barnes x you )

“Put me down! I can walk by myself.” You murmured as Bucky lifted you in his arms bridal style because you were drunk as hell and could not take a straight step ahead without having to use the wall for the support. “Yeah sure... I can see that.” Bucky said sarcastically carrying you through the 5 star hotel’s corridor. “But why are you carrying me? How can you? You drank much more than I did and I see you fine... fine as ever... you are one fine dude.” You said confused at first, but then smiling widely towards the end of your response. “I see you are in a good mood tonight .” The blue eyed male said grinning at your intoxicated blabbering through your liquored mouth . “ I’m always in a good mood, you are the one who is 24/7 depressed and grumpy... Handsome.” The last word making him look deeply in your eyes, eyes floating in alcohol. “ You are very handsome ...soldier” You whispered sensually as you moved your index finger over his lips , your eyes glued on the same place.You nibbled your lower lip when you noticed his mouth open slightly, giving you access to the inner tender rosy part of his lip which you stroked, up and down, with your thumb. “What are you staring at?” “At you... I was just thinking how many drinks have you had?” He managed to say in a husky tone after your bold moves unsettled his sanity for a brief moment until you lifted your finger from his mouth. “Just two “. You muttered innocently failing to think of a better number. “Two?” That single word made him laugh loudly and you stared at him startled completely lost in his charm. “I never thought you could laugh like that... you look lovely. You should smile more often sergeant”. You whispered and he rolled his head to the front paying attention to your room number , trying his absolute best to avoid eye contact with your doe eyes. Your orbs admired his sharp profile and you felt the sudden urge to feel his skin with your lips. The very next moment you brushed your intoxicated cherry lips on his stubbly cheek, freezing his feet as he blushed the same shade of your lipstick. His heart began racing at unknown speeds inside of his chest fearing that he might cross the line at any moment. Everyday, he admired you from a distance in a platonic way, but was quite shy to approach you. And now, you were looking ravishing and he was feeling weak with every step he took with you in his arms in this silent passage. “ I think you should rest in your room now.” He managed to say still taken aback by your act. You had reached your room. “ And the keys?” “I don’t know... never mind.. Break the door super soldier!” “I don’t want to. How on earth will I close it then?” “They are in my back pocket.” You chuckled as you saw his puppy eyes eyeing you in disbelief. After he placed you gently on the ground, you spent long 60 seconds searching for the keys in the back pocket of your blue jeans but your drunk self just couldn’t get hold of them. “Man I kept them here... I’m sure.” “Let me see.” He said frustratingly as he turned you around by your arms so you were now facing the wall. He spotted the keys immediately in your back pocket but was hesitant to pick them from... well... there. You felt his gaze on your ass and his silence made it obvious. “You can grab them, it’s alright.” You mumbled, resting yourself against the wall, with your soft cheek pressing against it as you were waiting for him to get his hand inside it . He reluctantly did as you told him to, a smile drawing on your face as you felt his scared fingers brushing your body making its way to the depths of the tight pocket to fetch the keys. “God... this was awkward.” He thought to himself and unlocked the door, holding your arm tightly when he saw you were about to fall to the side. After pulling you inside and locking the door, he picked you up in his arms while you placed your hands on the nape of his neck, in order to take you to your bed. Which he did successfully, albeit you were not willing to unwrap your arms around his neck. Instead, you pulled him towards yourself , forcing his heart to skip a beat due to your close proximity. He was looking dreamy, how can a man look so composed and hot as hell after gulping down God knows how much rum. “Y/n please, let me go.” He begged hovering over your smiling face. “Come on, good girl.” He tried again to free himself from your grip, softly pulling your arms apart. Alas, it was useless. “Oh ! I’m not a good girl at all.” You giggled, making him lighten his tensed mood to match yours. “You really want to go?” you asked softly after licking your lips, with a hint of sorrow in your voice as your carefree smile was fading away and your eyelids began blinking heavily. He was about to answer your question, but before he could even open his mouth you had drifted off to sleep. “Not really.” He replied, nonetheless and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead.

#drunk you #hotel room #hotel corridor #bucky barns x you #bucky brings you to your room #naughty you #platonic love #romance #love #fluff #cute blabbering #marvel #mcu #captain america #winter soldier

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buckyalpine · 1 year

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Drunk Bucky

Drunk babie Bucky who has no idea how to act around you, harbouring the biggest crush known to man. He’s managed to hide everything but that pink blush on his cheeks is nothing but a traitor.

With you, he’s nothing but respectful and polite; the most physical contact he’s had with you is a one armed hug on your birthday.

Except now.

He stumbled in with Steve, eyes sparkling, skin flushed, a goofy grin on his face. He keeps giggling to himself and no one has any idea why; Steve is just happy they made it back in one piece.

“Someone had too much to drink” Steve snorted while Bucky gasped, absolutely offended.

How dare his bestfriend say such a thing.

“Noooo. Bucky would never have enough to drink Bucky’s’not drunk-oof!” Bucky tripped over his own feet, landing face flat on the floor, letting out a muffled groan as you rush towards him.

“Oh my god, Bucky!”

“lil bunny” he snickers as he peels his face off the floor, coming face to face with your bunny slippers “s’cute” he slurs, batting one of the ears with his hand. “N’fluffy. S’a fluffy lil bunny”

He continued to swat at your slippers while you try to hold in your laugh, bending down to get an arm over your shoulder while Steve tries to haul him up.

“C’mom big guy, let’s get you up” You try to pull him off the ground but he whines instead. He lets out a disgruntled huff, already quite comfy on the compound floor, his comfy bed can wait. You manage to get him on his knees, though he’s still swaying, flopping forward. letting his face smush against your stomach. You gasp, your face heating up while Steve snorts, throwing his hands up, more curious to see how the rest of Bucky’s antics unfold.

“So soft” he practically purrs into your tummy, rubbing his face against your PJ shirt.

“Bu-”

“And warm”

“James”

“S’my name doll, sounds pretty when you say it’ll” His hands sneak up to wrap around your waist so he can hug you close and steady himself, swaying with his eyes closed.

The sound of a camera clicking breaks you away from the 6 foot baby clinging onto you, Steve quickly shoving his phone back into his pocket, innocently staring off at nothing. You shake your head, gently patting Bucky’s hair, the super solider looking up at you with puppy eyes, his chin still resting on your stomach.

“How about we get you to bed Buck, you need your sleep”

“Don’t wanna go to bed” He let out a yawn, sleepily rubbing his eyes, trying to will the drowsiness away.

“Why not bub” You coo, unable to resist the way he was so much like a baby right now, itching to kiss his pouty little face.

“Wanna talk to you” He shrugged, letting you take his hands in yours and get him to his feet.

“Okay, how about we go to your room, get you ready for bed and then talk?” You lead him to the elevator and push the button to your floor, keeping a steady arm around him while he leans against you, no thanks to Steve who insisted he had to make poptarts that very second.

“No” He pouts when you stop in front of his door, shuffling and holding your hand tighter, his eyes peeking at your room instead.

“Do you want to sleep in my room?” You offer with a smile, giggling at the way his eyes light up, nodding as soon as the words left your mouth.

“C’mon” You tug him along and sit him down on your bed. You promise you won’t disappear into thin air when you leave him to grab some of his clothes, clumsily getting him into some sweats before letting him lay down.

He looked so at peace, curled up on your pillow, softly snoring while you held yourself back from wrapping him up in your arms.

“You’re so cute” you whisper, more to yourself but he hears it loud and clear, suddenly sitting up right and pulling you onto his lap.

“Y’think I’m cute?” He looked at you wide eyed, sleep now completely gone, his attention fully on what you just said.

“I do” You giggle, carding your hands through his hair while he nuzzles into your palm. “The cutest” You coo while he pulls you closer so he can bury his face into your neck, letting out a content sigh.

“M’the cutest?”

“Absolutely, the cutest” you nod while he pulls you again, this time so you’d both lay down with his arms around your waist and his head on your chest.

“So cute, my Bucky” You rub soft circles onto his back while he blushes more, hitching a leg over you while snuggling more.

“M’your Bucky?”

“You’re my Bucky”

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espinosaurusrexex · 2 months

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Bad Boys Don't Buy Flowers

CEO!BuckyBarnes x Female!Florist!Reader AU

read Steve's story here

summary: Bucky would have never thought, he’d be chasing after a girl. Not when all of them usually fell at his feet. But when he finds himself entangled in a deal born out of a desperate argument with his assistant, he realizes there is nothing he wouldn't do for you: The independent florist who is adamantly dragging him to the homeless shelter every chance she gets. There is just one problem: Bucky doesn't know how to tell you. And the teasing from his friends is certainly not making things easier for him...

a/n: I should be working instead of writing long ass billionaire love stores, but here we are: you and me both... happy it happened and already regretting the tasks we neglected because of it (please enjoy this wholesome piece of imagination - I know it's long, but I hope you’ll give it a try nonetheless)

word count: 16.4k 😬

warnings: play boy behavior/talk, a reader that knows what she wants, Bucky falls first (and hard 🤭), mentions of war, injuries, and death (all not applying to Bucky for once), just so much fluff, questioning life choices (angst with happy ending!), smut (this is freaking love making okay?!?!? praise and confessions, dry humping, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, touch starved Bucky - in a way…, sensual and beautiful, protected p in v, cock warming, and aftercare) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

"Did you place the order?" Bucky leaned back in Steve's office chair and watched as his friend paced the space with a hand in his pocket.

Steve was grinning like an idiot when the answer on the other side satisfied him and Bucky felt a tiny little spark in his chest at the sight. He'd watched his best friend go through life with a default tension in his shoulders for what seemed like forever. All until he found Bambi - a sweet and incredibly clumsy woman who was formerly his maid. But they found each other and Steve had been a happier man ever since.

Bucky was happy for him, too. He was a lot more fun to be around ever since, but it did remind him that Bucky himself had yet to find the one that would make his heart beat faster.

It was a ridiculous idea, of course. Bucky was never the one for relationships or long-term commitment in the romantic department. To be honest, he wasn't even sure he was capable of love - not that he needed it, anyway. He had no problem with having a new plaything every other night. It was fun and kept him on his toes.

"Perfect. Okay. Thanks, Sharon." Bucky sat up straighter in the chair. "Yeah, next Friday. See you later."

Steve sighed as he slumped on the sofa across the room. He watched the ceiling, looking like a love-drunk schoolboy, even though he tried so hard to conceal it. Bucky knew him too well.

"Dinner is booked.”

“You’re really doing it huh?"

“Yup." There was no doubt in Steve’s answer, but rather a special kind of excitement Bucky rarely felt.

The brunette just nodded as he looked to the ground, the chair swaying as he pushed his knees from one side to the other.

Steve just grinned in response. "So when are you gonna let me help you find the one?"

Bucky perked up, amusement seeping through his gaze when he answered his best friend. ”Me? No no. I’m fine."

Steve shrugged. ”You know, that’s exactly what I said about a year ago."

"No offense, Stevie, but you and I were in vastly different sex universes back then. I’m getting laid - I’m aaaaall good." He leaned back with a smug grin and Steve just frowned in response. "You can be as happy as you want but don’t start trying to get everyone on the girlfriend train. That’s a Rogers and Wilson thing. I don’t need that type of commitment."

Steve remained silent as he watched Bucky stand up and head for the door, a thoughtful look on his face when his friend passed him.

“Look, I’m happy for you, truly. I just don’t see myself in that type of life.” Bucky’s hand squeezed Steve’s shoulder just as the blonde cocked his head to the side.

“Never?”

Bucky winked at him. “You know I like to live in the present. But speaking of the future... You’re still up for tomorrow night, right?”

“Tomorrow night?"

"Ironbar."

Steve’s eyes widened. ”Shit. No, I promised Bambi we'd-" Steve stopped when he saw Bucky's eyebrows raise in amusement. “...next time."

Bucky sighed in defeat. "Tell her to leave some Steve time for the rest of us, will ya?" And with a laugh of Steve’s, he shut the office door, walked past Sharon’s desk, then Natasha’s, and then into his own office.

❁ ❁ ❁

The clock hand barely struck 8am when another set of files hit Bucky’s desk.

Bucky huffed as he watched Natasha stand before him with an amused smile, her hands on her hips that were hugged by a tight pencil skirt. “Looking for something, Boss?”

“No...”

“Something like... the invitation to that business dinner on Thursday?” She mused and carefully pulled a piece of paper from the stack between them.

Bucky snatched it with a glare. “It would be much more helpful if you sorted this chaos rather than stand here and be a smartass.” He looked at the invite, the familiar company logo printed in the top right corner. “And why are people even sending paper invites anymore? We’re a security firm,” he sat the paper down and tapped on it with his index finger, “just shows how desperately they need consulting.”

“Don’t blame me for it.” Nat threw her hands in the air. “And stop complaining. I know you’re the cyber guy but a couple papers shouldn’t faze you. I’ve got more important things to do that don’t particularly fall in your area of expertise.” She turned to leave but Bucky stopped her before her heels could reach the threshold.

“Are you saying your job is harder than mine?” Bucky watched the mess on his desk, then the computer screen with his calendar and the impending meeting with those jackasses from Hydra Enterprises. There was no way sorting a couple of papers could be worse than Alexander Pierce and his nephew Brock Rumlow. One of them barely knew how to send an E-mail and the other kept subtly asking if it was legal to install cameras in the lady’s room.

“If you’re referring to your inability to sort a couple files, then yes, I assume you wouldn’t last a day with my tasks.”

“Now that’s bullshit.”

“Is it now?” She raised her left eyebrow with a half-smirk. “I want to see you deal with idiots when scheduling appointments and keeping everyone’s day structured while also organizing the annual fundraiser.”

Bucky huffed, leaning back and crossing his arms before his chest. He averted his eyes from his assistant and the stupid pile of paperwork in front of him. He really did not want to sort through all of that.

“Call me old fashioned but I believe assistants should sort files.” He shrugged, knowing Natasha wouldn’t let him off that easily. They had been working together for years, he respected her as much as his other friends. And presenting the fierce redhead with a challenge to get out of some annoying tasks was something he would gladly do.

“I’ll tell you what. I will sort your papers in my assistant duties.” She made a mockery curtsy - as much as her skirt allowed - and then lifted her finger before the smile could spread on Bucky’s face. “If... you plan the charity event.”

Bucky was shocked. He didn’t expect her to play dirty - well to be fair, it wouldn’t be Nat if she weren’t teasing a little bit - but still. “You think you can handle that, boss?”

Bucky closed his mouth and eyed her suspiciously. It couldn’t be that hard to do. And certainly would be a nice distraction from the impending meeting of doom as well as the following consulting sessions. He let his head fall back and stared at the ceiling.

Was he really going to trade some papers for a whole Gala? That paperwork really sucked. He loved how easily he could wash through files on his computer. Sadly, his programs didn’t help much in the analog part of the job.

“Are you backing down, Barnes?” Nat’s teasing voice rang through to him and he snapped back into his attitude.

“Never.” He stood up, fixed his suit, and then reached his hand toward her. Natasha shook it with an evil smirk. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Romanoff.”

And with that, she took the papers from Bucky’s desk and carried them out of his office with a triumphant smile.

❁ ❁ ❁

It wasn’t long before Bucky regretted his decision.

What had he been thinking? A Fundraiser... a fucking fundraiser. Bucky couldn’t care less about them.

Okay, that wasn’t true. He deemed charity to be a very important part of society... and economy. There were times in his life when he was close to needing their help as well. And Bucky swore he’d never let that aspect of his story slip from his mind ever. Still, it didn’t prevent him from living lavishly and making use of the things he had access to now.

Usually, the organization of the charity gala was stuck on Nat and Sharon. Mainly because they had always done an amazing job. The tabloids had only positive things to write about it and always pushed the number before Christmas even higher. Which urged Bucky even more to do just as good of a job this year.

There was just one problem.

He had no idea how to organize events this size. Bucky could program a software from scratch, hack into classified state files on a bad day. Hell, he could track every person’s phone in New York in his sleep. But he never expected to be overwhelmed by a couple invites and color palettes.

Though as little as he knew about his new task, he liked a challenge, and he would most certainly not give Natasha the satisfaction of asking her for a checklist.

So, the internet had to do for now. He’d found a blog by a highly motivated suburban mom, that led with step-by-step instructions on how to plan the perfect event. It might not have been on the scale of what Bucky had to do, but considering his lack of knowledge on the topic, he figured this would do until Natasha snatched the task away from him again.

The first thing on the list was to find a date and venue. But since the gala of Shield Protection Services was always held at the same venue, Bucky figured they had booked it indefinitely for the event.

Next was to find the perfect florist that ‘is able to put your vision into extravagant floral arrangements’. Yeah... that was another problem.

Bucky didn’t buy flowers. The only women he deemed important enough in his life to get them were his sister and his mother. And well, both of them had passed away. So, picking the right flowers hadn’t been a problem until now. His mother and sister were always enchanted by the bouquets they received when Bucky was younger. He’d steal them from their neighbor‘s garden. But since he could grow a beard, Bucky hadn’t even touched flowers anymore.

Well, that had to change now.

Bucky stepped into the elevator just to be greeted by big round eyes and an even wider smile. “Paying Steve a visit?” Bucky teased with a half smile as he hugged Bambi and then faced the doors.

“I’m actually meeting Natasha for lunch,” she shifted from one foot to the other, “I didn’t realize she was already at the restaurant... so that’s where I’m headed now.”

Bucky chuckled at her slight awkwardness. But it wouldn’t be Bambi if she wouldn’t miss such a detail.

“Do you need a ride? My driver’s waiting for me anyway.”

“Tha- yes that would be nice, thank you.”

Bucky just nodded and gestured for her to lead the way when they reached the ground floor.

“Where are you going?” Bambi asked as he stared out the window of the car. They had told the driver where they needed to go. And Since Bucky had no particular destination in mind, it worked out well.

“I’m on the hunt for the perfect flower shop to cater to my vision of our charity event.” He chuckled and shook his head at his own words. He’s never thought he’d say this.

Her eyes peered at him with intrigue, a glimmer washing over them when she asked: “Are you taking suggestions?”

Bucky sat up straighter now. “Uh, yes. Gladly.” This was easier than he thought.

“There is this wonderful shop in Brooklyn. It’s called AsGarden on 18th Avenue. You can’t miss it, it’s like a breath of fresh air between all those ugly beige buildings. The woman owning it has great taste, she managed to make the perfect bouquet for me without ever seeing me.” She turned forward, a little flustered, “Steve gets me flowers from there sometimes, they’re my favorite.”

“Did you hear that, Stan?” A victorious smile spread on Bucky’s face as he squeezed Bambi’s shoulder. “Next stop is Brooklyn.”

“Alright, Sir.”

“You don’t know how much easier you just made my life.” Bucky leaned forward and kissed her cheek before the car came to a stop and he bid her goodbye.

“I’m glad I could help.” She waved back and then headed into the restaurant.

Maybe the event wasn’t so difficult after all, Bucky thought as he leaned back in his seat, his legs spreading in satisfaction.

❁ ❁ ❁

The cool air snook through your shop when the familiar bell of a customer chimed above the door. You’d seen many people frequent your shop daily. Women, men, teenagers, elderly. All came from different backgrounds and varying stories in their repertoire. Your store was in the heart of Brooklyn - a bunch of people mixed in this town. And you’d made it your mission to find the perfect flower arrangement for each and every one of them.

The man who had set off your little bell this afternoon was different though. A perfectly tailored coat adorned his broad shoulders. The way his hands were tucked in his pockets revealed the expensive-looking suit beneath as well as the toned chest that hid beneath the button-up in vain. His presence oozed money as he sashayed through your shop, carefully grazing delicate pedals with the aura he brought in.

He seemed to own the world, but something about him just didn’t fit between the colorful flowers surrounding him. If you didn’t know any better, he looked a little lost, eyes glassy as they swayed through the sea of colors and shapes soaking in fresh water.

“Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you?”

He ripped around, fixed his posture, and approached the cash desk. When his eyes landed on you, he froze. Just for a second, however, and then his jaw snapped into a handsome smile as he leaned forward.

“I sure hope so.” His white teeth flashed between his lips before his tongue stroked over them. It was capturing. “This flower shop has been recommended to me. You wouldn’t happen to be the owner?”

“Well actually, I am,” you smiled hiding the pride swelling in your chest from the comment.

“Great. What is your capacity when it comes to event arrangements?”

“That depends...” You smiled as the handsome stranger raised his eyebrows in intrigue. “I reckon we have vastly different understandings of what is small and... big.” Your eyes wandered over his expensive coat again. The innuendo was accidental, really, but he seemed to be amused nevertheless.

“My company is hosting its annual charity event in November... at The Glasshouse.”

“So just as I suspected...” You nodded and strode past him towards the fall flowers.

“Pardon me?”

You turned your head towards him and winked. “Bigger than I thought.”

“So?” He approached you with his hands still in his coat pockets and peeked over your shoulder. “Can you do it?”

“Totally.” Then you gestured to the flowers. “Do you have any preferences? I don’t have all the flowers in yet, but I recommend going with some soft orange and sage tones... to cater to the season.”

“Forgive me, sweetheart, but I am useless when it comes to this kind of stuff. My qualities lie more in the technical aspect of things.” A hand ran through his thick dark hair and the gesture made him look boyish.

“Alright let me rephrase my question then: Do you trust me?” A sly smile sneaked on his face, matching yours.

He tipped his head. “My life is in your hands.”

“Good. Then please write down your details here.” You pushed a form over the counter once you reached it again, and the man just followed you around like a lost dog. You watched as his hand swiftly filled out the free spaces on the paper, curious which company he had been referring to.

“Wait you’re working for SPS?”

“I own it, sweetheart.” The man adjusted his coat as you tried to look unimpressed. “My name is James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” His hand extended over the shiny countertop until it encased your smaller fingers and his warmth seeped through your body.

Bucky’s smile brightened when you revealed your name to him, telling you how beautiful it was, and you began to struggle not to show the effects it had on you. Then he resumed filling out the order and slid it over to you again.

“What cause are you raising money for this year?” You asked as you sorted the paper into your books, only to be surprised when Bucky seemed a little nervous all of a sudden.

You knew Shield Protection Services was a pristine company with reach to people whose powers you could barely comprehend. Whatever they were choosing, it would have a big impact on the change their chosen organization was advocating.

“Well, to be honest... we haven’t decided yet.” A silly idea hushed through your head at that, but you dismissed it. A company such as Bucky’s would raise sums only big fish could handle. There wasn’t space for the things you had in mind.

“I hope you’ll do so soon, then.” You nodded thoughtfully and ended with a tight-lipped smile.

Bucky nodded and smiled, then turned around and headed for the door. But before he could open it, he came back again. You looked up to see a black card held before you.

“I’d be happy for suggestions... if you have any in mind.” He shrugged with that cheeky look of his and then left. And you just stood there, dumbfounded, and toying with the ridiculous idea that Bucky Barnes might actually be able to read minds.

❁ ❁ ❁

“Rogers really couldn’t make it?” Tony asked as he leaned back in the leather booth of his very own establishment. He tipped his emptied whiskey glass towards the slender redhead at the bar and smiled as she rushed to get his refill ready.

“He promised Bambi to be home...” Bucky trailed off as he watched a customer hit on the waitress - Tiffany he remembered - A pretty thing, but unfortunately incredibly hollow when it came to conversation... not that Bucky looked for anything like it.

Tony huffed. “That woman has him wrapped around her finger!” He liked Bambi, everyone did, he just missed hanging out with his guys.

“Just wait until you find the one, Tony,” Sam chimed in with a sly smirk on his face - a hopeful, yet cautious hint as Sam secretly loved the idea of all his friends finally finding the one. He was a romantic, Bucky knew it, even if Sam never actually said it.

“Me? I would never give up my glorious bachelor life for one woman. There are way too many things to explore...”

“Mark my words, Stark. We’ll look back to this day and laugh about this incredibly jackassy statement. You, too will be finding the one. I just know it.”

Bucky chuckled and tipped his glass on the Table as the bickering of his friends faded into background noise. For some reason, he didn’t feel like adding to the conversation. He blamed it on the banality of a conversation both he and Tony had long decided on, but perhaps, it was because for once in his life, he considered taking Sam’s side on the topic.

It was ridiculous, really, how fast you’d occupied his mind when it came to Sam’s comment about finding ‘the one’. He didn’t even know you aside from the ‘background check’ he conducted after his visit to your shop. That might have covered your personal details, but he still didn’t know if you were a dog person or preferred cats, or if you were vegan or vegetarian, or if you considered kids in your future.

Bucky cleared his throat and sat up straighter when he felt the fluster creep up his neck. What the hell was happening to him? He wasn’t like this at all. Women occupied his mind for about as long as it took for him to make them come undone in his hands. When he was with them, his full attention was on them - he loved them - but he’d never let them control his life. James “Bucky” Barnes never even considered seeing them twice, let alone thinking about a future with them.

Though, to Bucky’s displeasure - or pleasure (he hadn’t decided yet) - the thought of seeing you again wasn’t uncomfortable to him. On the contrary, he got a weird tingly feeling in his stomach when he remembered the smell of the flowers in your shop and how your delicate fingers carefully picked out the prettiest ones. Bucky sat his drink down with a clink. Maybe he’d had enough alcohol for tonight.

“Barnes, how come you’re not defending me here? Have you grown soft or something? Do you have a girl we don’t know about?” Tony’s nagging broke through to Bucky and the whole bar reached back into his consciousness.

“Sorry, what?” He stuttered, shaking his thought and trying to find a good answer to his friend’s remark. “I was distracted by Betty.” Bucky smiled sheepishly as he received a clap on his shoulder.

“That’s my man.” Tony grinned and Sam huffed into his whiskey. And Bucky? He just sunk into his seat, feeling somehow shameful for the white lie he had made up.

❁ ❁ ❁

The SPS office was impressive. Amongst the old New York brick building surrounding it, it reached up into the sky with its glass front everything. But you wouldn’t be fooled by its fragile looks. This was one of the most secure buildings in the city. You’d read about it in an article some time back - the whole hype about the company was their way of making fragile-looking things indestructible. You couldn’t see through the “windows” from the outside. And you wouldn’t be able to launch a rocket through it either. SPS had patented their stronger-than-steel-glass years ago, making them the leading security company in the world.

To say you had been a little surprised to see the very owner of said company on your side of town would be an understatement. But besides his incredibly adamant way of flirting, he was quite normal to talk to. He’d even asked you for advice on the cause they should donate to this year. And after having thought about it for the better part of what should have been your sleep time, you had decided to just try and pitch your idea.

“Do you have an appointment Ms.?” A stunning redhead peered up at you from her desk, her nails clicked on the keyboard of her computer as she waited for your answer. You didn’t really know why you thought getting to Bucky was going to be easy. The security guard had already eyed you suspiciously at the front desk in the lobby. After you’d smiled at him as charmingly as you could, he’d decided to let you be someone else’s problem today - or maybe he just didn’t see you as a threat - whatever it was, it had gotten you this far. But what were you gonna say now?

Actually, I don’t have an appointment, but Mr Barnes met me yesterday and after thinking about him all night, I decided to pay him a visit today.

Yeah, that wouldn’t cut it. Not in this office. The redhead - N. Romanoff - was what her sign said, made that fairly clear with the way her lips pursed at the opened calendar on the screen.

“You don’t happen to have to discuss something not suited for work with Mr. Barnes, do you? I know he tends to leave some of his meetings... open-ended.”

Your eyes got wide. “God, no. I’m not-“ Your hands made a swishing motion between you two and then you took a breath. “I’m here to discuss business. Purely business. Mr. Barnes has made an order at my shop for the company fundraiser and I just want to discuss some details.”

Her eyes glimmered when her lips pulled into a smile. “Did he now?” She peered over to catch the look of the blonde assistant a few feet next to her and then back to you. “Well if that is the case, please have a seat, I’ll tell him you’re here.” And with that, she got up, winked, and wrapped at the large wooden door presumably leading to Bucky’s office.

She came back a minute later and gestured for you to enter. “Lucky for you, his meeting just got canceled, so you should have enough time.”

“Thank you.” And then Ms. Romanoff went back to her desk and started whispering to the blonde assistant.

Bucky sat behind his desk, a sleek glass surface lightly cluttered with papers. Other than that, the room felt cool, the large rug by the seating area did little to cover the marbled floors. You stepped inside just as Bucky called out your name. You almost didn't see the wide smile on his face as the rising sun hung low on the horizon behind him, casting a halo-like glow around his silhouette. What a freaking entrance. Though Bucky surely couldn’t control the sun, you thought with a small smile, you really had to stop imagining this man was extraordinary.

“You’re here.” He got up and walked towards you, his sleek back shoes echoing on the ground. And then he was next to you, leading you to the seat in front of his desk with his hand on the small of your back. “What brings me the honor of your visit, darling.”

He leaned on his desk with his arms crossed, a pleasant smile on his lips. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice that you came by, but you do have my number, don’t you?”

“I do.” You cleared your throat, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “I was hoping you had some time to spare, actually. I find the phone to be a little... impersonal.”

Bucky’s eyes shined with intrigue as he leaned forward, pinning you to the chair with his gaze. He licked his lips. “Show me what exactly?”

“You’ll see.” You smirked. “I happen to know that your next meeting just got canceled.”

Bucky got even closer, his breath hitting your neck with every word he spoke. “And I’ll gladly cancel the rest, too.” A shiver shot over your arms, his cologne seemingly intoxicating you. But before you could respond, he backed up, grabbing his coat and gesturing towards the door. “Lead the way.”

And so you did.

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky was suspicious when you pulled him into the subway, but he decided against saying something. He had told you he trusted you after all, and though Bucky considered himself a lot of things, a flake was not one of them. So he let it happen.

It wasn’t half bad, either. Somewhere between his office door and the train, you had taken his hand in yours to pull him along faster. Bucky had noticed his lips spreading into a smile. It didn't last long, unfortunately. Because as he had made eye contact with an elderly lady who had then proceeded to tell you what a beautiful couple you were, you had pulled your hand away with an awkward laugh.

‘Oh, God, no, we’re not together, ma’am.’

Admittedly, Bucky felt a little sting in his chest ever since. In fact, he was rubbing his hand over his shirt at this very moment. You were walking along a street in Brooklyn, not too far from your shop. The neighborhood was a little more run-down than he was used to, certainly nothing like the part of town he lived in. But he kept quiet still. Maybe he was a little butthurt from your earlier aversion about the couple comment, but to be fair, Bucky wasn’t used to women denying him - except Nat.

You suddenly stopped, making Bucky almost run into you and then stare at you in question. But when you gestured towards the sign above the two-story building, his gaze softened.

There, above the blue-painted metal doors, hung a faded sign. Bucky could make out the orange and yellow stripes on the board, a big Sunflower painted in the middle of it all. ‘Sunflower -Shelter & Food’.

“Hey, are you coming or are you glued to the ground?” Your voice rang from the entrance, he hadn’t even noticed that you already moved inside.

Bucky gulped when his eyes swayed back to you and then down his own body. If he was going to step in there in the outfit he was currently wearing, he would look like the biggest asshole on the planet.

“I can’t go in there.”

“Why not?”

He just gestured towards his clothes, his Rolex glinting in the sunlight for good measure. But there was no reaction from you. You stood in the doorway, pursing your lips seemingly in thought, and then shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “I guess you’ll just have to deal with it then.”

“What?” He called your name. But when he realized you weren’t joking, he caught up to you as fast as possible. Because the only thing worse than showing up there looking like he did was doing it alone, he decided swiftly.

“‘Think now might be a good time to mention that this is not a very good place for a date,” Bucky mumbled next to you before closing his coat, trying to hide the even more expensive suit beneath.

“How would you know?” You turned to him. “This isn’t a date, is it?”

Bucky just smirked and then he watched you greet a young boy with a warm hug, and man he imagined what it would be like to have you hug him like that.

“Peter this is Bucky, Bucky, Peter.” You pulled him towards you by his hand again. “I brought him along to help today, thought we always need an extra pair of hands around here.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Peter reached his hand out, slightly frowning when he took in his appearance but did not say anything. “Any help is always welcome here. Come, I’ll show you what we’re doing today.”

Within ten minutes, Bucky had an apron and gloves on and was ordered to cut the biggest stack of potatoes he’d ever seen. You were happily chatting away with the other helpers and Bucky, for the first time in a long time, felt ...normal.

Nobody was recognizing him in the crowd, there was no talk about business and investments, and there were no fucking cameras. Here, people recognized him for what he came to do, help. And it felt weird. Bucky wasn’t quiet about his lavish lifestyle around his crowds. He knew the privilege he had, and he had worked for it enough to be proud of it. But it was like he had entered a different universe in this part of town. All the things he deemed normal, were things so far from imagination here, they were left out of conversations entirely. So, he tried to remember this whenever he was offered a conversation.

“You do this every day?” He asked into the kitchen while struggling to peel his 5th potato.

“Whenever we can.” An older woman answered with a smile. She was the one who had shown him how to use the peeler faster. “They are people just like you and me. They have to eat every day, too, Bucky.”

Bucky just nodded in silence at the humbling answer, his cheeks felt hot with embarrassment at how naive he had been.

Two hours later, he was standing by your side at the serving station, plating mashed potatoes and the accommodating ‘you’re welcome’ every once in a while. He rarely was out of his comfort zone, like today. But he also knew that, whenever he felt unsure, he’d look at you and you’d gift him an encouraging gesture that kept him going a little while longer.

After everyone had their food, you gave Bucky a tour of the premises.

There was a small courtyard, a couple rooms with telephones and a computer, some sofas and pillows. Nothing fancy but functional nonetheless. You led him through every room, explaining curtly what it was for and then you led him up the stairs.

On your way up, you passed Peter, who was helping a child find its toy and Bucky felt a lump form in his throat at all the new impressions he was fed today.

He cleared his throat. “Peter... is he?”

You shook your head. “Not exactly. His parents died when he was quite young. Lucky for him, though, he has always been a bright kid. He got a scholarship for every school he ever went to. But he spends most of his free time here. He has this urge to help wherever he can. Took me a couple months to keep him from skipping his lectures.” You chuckled and led him through the next door.

Bucky nodded with adoration. Not many people dedicated their time to something that would not benefit them directly. And while Bucky knew what a dedicated mind was capable of, he had to admit that his efforts were always motivated by personal gain.

“He’s very admirable for that.”

You just hummed in response. “I don’t think he chose it himself. Not that I think he wouldn’t. But this shelter belonged to his uncle and aunt. They died when he was in high school. He’s working hard to keep this place alive. As do we all.”

The next room you entered was resembling a classroom. “What happens here?”

“Most of the children are registered for the public school of this district. But they don’t always make it there. This room gives them the opportunity to catch up on missed work. We also have adult classes here, preparing for job interviews and such.”

The next hallway presented doors, all leading to bedrooms, as you explained to Bucky when you walked through the corridor. The last door was larger than the others - a double swing leading to a big sanitary area. Showers, toilets, and sinks lined the walls - all run down but functional.

“This place could use some serious renovating,” Bucky mumbled, but he was sure you had heard him. Because you looked up at him now, a sad smile decorating your beautiful face.

“We try to make it as clean and cozy as possible here, but we just don’t have the necessary financial means for it. It works for now. The people coming here need very little. But it’s only a matter of time until the roof needs redoing or the pipes or the windows, or the-“

“Yeah...” Bucky trailed off, making you stop and giving him a break to breathe. He usually wasn’t surrounded by people unable to get out of unfortunate situations. The clients he spent his time with ordered his services to protect the material things they’d bought for status and fun. It was something entirely different when you were robbed of your place to sleep.

“Well, this completes my humble tour.” You clasped your hands together and proceeded to look at your watch. “I think it’s time to go home.”

You descended the stairs in silence, Peter hugged Bucky goodbye and when he stepped foot back on the sidewalk, Bucky turned around to the sign once more. You stood beneath it, leaning against the doorframe and smiling at him. It was dark out now.

“Are you not coming?” He asked watching as you shook your head.

“Peter has an exam tomorrow. I offered to stay the night.”

“Here? Alone?”

“Yes.”

Bucky stepped towards you again. “Then I’m go-“

“Stop.” Your hand reached for his shoulder, the touch sending him straight back to a haze. “Don’t do this. I know how you feel. There’s this sadness inside you now. You saw this for the first time. It feels awful - I know.” You retracted your hand and pushed yourself off the doorframe. “But until you don’t see anything other than pity for these people, you can’t be here without breaking.”

“Doll...”

“Bucky, I'm serious. Go home. Sleep on it. Try to understand the situation.”

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this helpless. He just stared at you, unable to move or say anything. He didn’t like the idea of you staying here alone at night. And though the feeling of caring for someone he’d only known for two days so much scared him, he pushed it aside.

You leaned forward and hugged him goodbye and then the cold night surrounded him again. “Thank you for trusting me today.” And then you turned around and left him standing outside alone.

❁ ❁ ❁

Your purple-inked pen marked the date in your calendar.

“That’s an unusually big order, Steve...” You looked up at the blonde frequenting your shop every so often. He’d always get the pink carnations for his girlfriend. Apparently, she loved them after you bound them in the first bouquet you ever sold to Steve. He was a simple man, you could tell, so his usual orders were just as such. But not today. “Are you planning anything special?”

The handsome customer blushed with an innocent smile. “Actually...” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m planning to propose.” He looked so sheepish when you clasped your hands in excitement.

“Oh, that’s amazing. Congratulations!”

“Well not yet.” He cleared his throat, visibly trying to compose himself. But this giant pretty man in front of you was adorably nervous.

“I just know she’ll say yes,” you mused and made a note to reserve some more carnations for his order - a couple simple arrangements that held so much meaning.

“How do you know?”

You watched Steve peer over to you with hopeful eyes. “It’s not every day a man puts so much effort and thought into what bouquet to get his girlfriend on a casual Monday evening each week.” You winked and Steve nodded lost in thought.

“To be honest, I haven’t even thought about her saying no. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

“You shouldn’t worry too much. You are a good man, everyone can see that. And just to be sure, I’ll make the most perfect flowers ever. Paired with your charming ways, there will be no other option but to say yes.”

He relaxed a little. “Great. Thank you.” And then he turned to leave your shop.

“I’ll have them ready by Friday.” You smiled.

“Thank you... so much.” Steve smiled and you knew there was so much more hidden in his gesture.

❁ ❁ ❁

It had become a habit that Bucky visited the shelter with you once a week. Admittedly, you were surprised he even cared enough to free his schedule so religiously. But as of the past four weeks, he had shown up at your shop, walked with you to Sunflower shelters, mingled with the people, and then even walked you home.

It was actually kind of refreshing, seeing him so invested and kind of protective. There weren’t many guys in the city that cared enough to get you home safely. Peter offered more times than often, but you rather knew him safe at the shelter than try to fight a gangster double his size out of the kindness of his heart and the deep wish to somehow become a superhero one day.

So Bucky had to do it for now. Not that you were complaining. He was handsome and charming and interesting to converse with given the vastly different lives you lived. But he tried to adapt. Ever since the incident on the first day, he had even tried to wear less wealth-telling clothing, though he seemed to not always hit the mark just right.

In a way, bucky was a little fashion icon. You’d noticed it in his colorful waistcoats, the intricate details on his shoes, or the fancy cufflinks adorning his oxford-cotton shirts. He tried to dress down. But to your surprise, the color remained. Instead of waistcoats and dress shirts, he wore regular t-shirts. His confidence never wavered.

A little smile hushed across your face every time you looked at him. The pink shirt he wore combined with the green apron he had been given, made him look like a lollipop. A Beautiful one, that was. With a dashing smile and an adorable frown as he tried to separate the peas from the pod.

“So... how is the gala coming along?” You teased him a little having noticed how unusual this task was for him. Throughout your few meetings, you had gotten to know Bucky quite well. And apart from his statement the very day he stepped foot into your shop, he revealed to you more and more how difficult the project was for him.

“Let’s just say I’m glad I can count on the flower arrangements,” he grumbles as a pea slipped from his fingers and across the table.

“That bad, huh?”

His hands stopped working. “The Band canceled on me again and I seem to run after every other arrangement I have made so far. If I had known how much work-“ he huffed and then shook his head with an even deeper frown.

“Hey, it’s okay to not be good at everything.” You encouraged him, your elbow nudging his side as you smiled lightly. “There has got to be something humbling you. Makes you seem more human.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I meant to ask you...” You picked up your task to avoid his eyes that were suddenly on you again. “How come you’re the one organizing the gala?”

Bucky chuckled, his head shaking for what seemed like the hundredth time today. “I made a deal with my assistant.”

“What was in it for you?” You threw a couple peas in the strainer and Bucky did the same.

He shrugged. “I got to hand off some paperwork.”

Wow. “Seriously? A bit of paperwork seems like a poor trade for months of organizing something so important.”

Bucky laughed, the sound warming your stomach from the inside out and finally making you look at him again. It was little moments like this in which he felt so careless and relaxed. You liked to believe the shelter did it to him, or maybe even you. But primarily, you were glad he laid off his work self just then. “Yeah it might have not been my smartest move... but I don’t mind it really.”

“Why’s that?” Your eyes locked and you suddenly became very aware of how close the two of you were standing.

“If it weren’t for the deal, I would have never met you.” There was something so honest and pure about the way he had stated this so plainly. And for a moment, you liked to forget that he might have just meant your suggestion to donate to Sunflower. That maybe, the funny fluttery feeling in your stomach wasn’t one-sided, and that you too meant something greater to him than the coincidences that led him into your shop that day.

A wide smile spread on Bucky’s face and then he winked. He freaking winked at you. And while you turned back to your peas, desperate to hide the fluster on your face, you had to remind yourself that this was Bucky fucking Barnes and that he knew what he was doing.

About two hours later, you sat amongst the people currently living at the shelter, sharing the meal you had prepared for them with the hopes of getting them through another day. You and Bucky were sitting with Gabe Jones, a veteran whose post-traumatic stress disorder had cost him everything after the Vietnam War. He was always telling stories of his time on the front - a way to cope with his horrible past. By now, you and Peter had probably heard every single one of his stories twice. But Bucky was on the edge of his seat. Listening with intrigue as the food on his plate remained untouched.

“It was ’68 when I was sent out. There were soldiers who done already survived a year or so at the front. And, son, I am sayin’ survived ‘cause you couldn’t call that livin’.” Gabe shook his head before pointing his fork to his shoulder. “Caught a grenade in ’69 and on our way to camp, they shot at the helicopter. Lost my right arm and comrade that day. The damn arm’s gone but I’m gon’ have the memory forever.”

The words didn’t seem to affect the veteran anymore, but they never failed to leave their recipients shocked and wondering. It was always the same question: How can someone fight for a country, leave their life for a country, and end up here?

And honestly? You didn’t know.

“I’m so sorry, sir.” Bucky swallowed as his eyes fled over to yours. “Thank you for your service.”

“Notin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” Gabe waved his hand and then pointed at Bucky’s plate. “You eatin’ that?”

Bucky just shook his head and pushed his plate towards Gabe, a somber state overtaking his body. You did feel a little bad. But you also knew that Gabe wasn’t affected by sympathies and that he was happy at Sunflower - though he preferred the street over the beds here. While he had spent just another day existing, he had simultaneously opened Bucky’s eyes to the severity of making stories like his more known.

By now you were pretty confident, Bucky would choose the homeless as recipients for his company’s fundraiser sum. But he surprised you by getting involved with the people here over and over again, willing to learn and to understand.

The walk to your apartment building that evening was awfully quiet. Bucky had insisted he walk on the street side of the sidewalk, buried his hands in his coat pockets, and shut up ever since.

You knew he was contemplating, letting the day play on repeat in his mind. He probably had a lot of questions, a lot of frustration, and worry. Nothing unfamiliar to you, but something you’d learned to deal with ever since helping out at Sunflower.

“Don’t feel bad,” you said when you stopped in front of the familiar brick building you called home.

“How?”

“Feeling bad isn’t helping them. You have the power to change things.” It was an awfully dry response, but the truth hurt sometimes.

Bucky just looked at you through hooded eyes, a knowing nod shaking his features as he watched slowly take a step back toward your front door.

“Thank you,” he suddenly released - steady and calm. “For taking me. For helping me see...”

You couldn’t help yourself. The confession overwhelmed you. Knowing you had succeeded in showing him what was so important to you overwhelmed you. You leaped forward and slung your arms around him, pressing tightly into his chest.

Bucky’s arms found their way around you in an instant, the hug conveying so much more than just a goodbye. It was a ‘thank you’ a ‘this means the world to me’.

After about a minute, you leaned up to him and placed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m also glad you took the deal, Bucky.” You whispered into his ear, feeling the smile on his face on your cheek.

When he finally released you, it seemed like the spell was gone. Bucky was back to burying his hands in his pockets, only the faint remnants of a smile hinting towards your earlier interaction. You hadn’t realized how much this would affect him. You had forgotten how long you fought with yourself until you could act normal around the people at Sunflower yourself.

“Do you want to come up?” You threw your thumb over your shoulder at the entrance of the building with a lopsided smile. “Don’t want that cheap bottle of merlot to go bad.”

Bucky’s eyes brightened underneath the street lights and the wide boyish grin returned to his face. “We can’t have that, can we?”

❁ ❁ ❁

To say Bucky’s heart had skipped a beat at your invitation would have been an understatement. It did somersaults and ended with an impressive backflip. He’d not expected a move from your side. Especially, since the last time he had picked you up, the universe had flipped him the bird by sending two of his former one-night-stands your way. He had been able to shake them off before they were able to yell at him or reveal more of what their connection to him was. But that marked the first time he was a little embarrassed by his late endeavors. You had acted like nothing happened, but since that night, Bucky hadn’t stopped wondering what you thought of him.

You lead him up the narrow staircase to a red wooden door, the color chipping by the floor as an indicator of having to kick it to open sometimes. Beyond the door, it was cozy and warm. Every corner of your place had a memory placed in it - a self-made quilt or a photograph. When you walked through it, Bucky could feel the love and time this place had seen.

It was nothing like his own apartment: a penthouse standing high above the city, with sleek black surfaces and cold marble wherever you reached. Here, he felt the need to take his shoes off, to feel the fuzzy carpets on the scratched-up wooden floors. Your place wasn’t sterile like his, it felt... like a good hug.

Bucky snorted as the result of a breath he released. Never before had he cared about what his place lacked. It was expensive and pristine, clean and big. And even though your apartment was about the size of his living room, it had so much more to offer.

“The living room is right through there, you can choose a movie if you like.” Your voice called out from somewhere Bucky assumed to be the kitchen as he kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable on the rust-colored sofa that had more pillows than necessary. It was super comfortable, though. And the lack of space due to the pillows forced you to sit a little closer to him, so he wasn’t complaining.

“Your place is... cute.” He stated as you handed him a glass of wine and laughed.

“It’s a shoebox but I do love it very much. Probably nothing compared to what you’re used to.”

Bucky shook his head and took a sip. The wine did taste cheap, but he did not care. “Bigger isn’t always better.” His arm was spread on the backrest but your whole body was turned to him. “It has a lot of character.”

“Oh god, please stop, you’re just making it sound worse.” Your hand came up to hide your face but your smile peeked through the gesture.

Bucky laughed. “I didn’t mean it condescendingly. I really do like it. Reminds me of my childhood home.”

“Are you close with your family?” Bucky was surprised by the question. Maybe it was because his friends never talked about his family, or because the peers he hung out with tended to discuss business rather than sentimental. But he realized that nobody had asked him about it for a long time.

And so he began talking. Bucky talked about his parents and how both of them died early in his life. He told you how close he was with his sister until she got adopted into another family. He spoke about his childhood with Steve and how they’d met Sam and Tony in college, about the night they had the idea for Shield Protective Services, and finally the day he was told his sister had passed away.

Throughout his story, you had leaned into him closer, hanging onto his every word until your hand had to support your body on his thigh and Bucky suddenly stopped talking.

Your glasses were emptied, the bottle as well, and Bucky gulped when he felt the heat from your hand travel throughout his entire body.

“So... that’s my story.” He had to clear his throat to gain his usual timber back, his hands becoming sweaty when you blinked next to him. “What about you, dove?”

“Dove?” You smiled, yet intrigued by the name that had slipped past his lips in the trance of the moment. He’d only ever called you that in his thoughts. Attributed the nickname to you the second he realized it was the most fitting one of them all.

“You don’t like it?” He asked, his arm slipping towards your shoulder ever so slightly.

“I like it.” You smiled. “I just want to know... why this one?”

A hush of giddiness crawled up his throat when he thought about his answer. It was the way you had welcomed him so easily into this world of yours. How you were willing to show him the things precious to you. That you trusted him with this very opportunity to help. Every day he spent with you he felt it, found that between coding his new security program and meeting with Hydra enterprises, its somber reality sent him into a feeling of breathing fresh air. You created a button that turned off the noise in his head. “Because you bring me peace.”

Your eyes stared at him in wonder when he tilted your chin with his thumb and index finger. There was appreciation and happiness, he could see it, feel it.

Bucky was entranced by your stare when your voice whispered a response to him: “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever been told.”

You leaned forward and Bucky’s heart threatened to jump out of his chest, and then your face fell into his chest, your arms encasing him in the warmest hug he’d ever received. He willed his pulse to slow and wrapped his arms around you tightly. A little humbled and a little confused, but appreciative of the situation nonetheless.

You stayed like this when you chose a movie to watch. Even after an hour, Bucky’s grip didn’t loosen. He peered down at you on his chest and watched as you fell asleep. And when he was sure you were far away in your slumber, he pressed a warm kiss to your head, lingering in the scent of your shampoo.

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky stared at his computer screen as the pen in his hand clicked on his glass desk in perfect rhythm. The Shelter website displayed on the surface, portraying a brighter version of the sign you had dragged him to that very first day.

But it wasn’t the heartfelt story behind the building or the way his pen clicked slightly more hollow every other tap because he turned it too much that had him zoned out at work. It was - as unbelievable as it sounded - a woman. Not just any, no. You.

“Hey, I need a signature from you for this design draft.” Steve dropped his notepad on the desk, then rounded it and settled behind Bucky who had yet to recognize his presence.

“This your charity suggestion?” He questioned with his hands on his friend’s office chair.

Bucky nodded absentmindedly. Perhaps it was because he had decided to support your suggestion the second you had taken his hand on his way to the subway. Or maybe he was just letting his mind roam freely again. Mainly because it was a safe bet to call you into memory and he liked the feeling it provided.

A pale hand waved in front of his face. “Earth to Bucky.” Steve snapped his fingers, making the brunette jump. “You seem oddly distracted.”

He had been thinking about you. Of course, he had. There seemed to be nothing else he could do lately. Every time Bucky read through his reports, he imagined what your voice would sound like reading them to him. Whenever he went down to IT, he envisioned the room decorated with your flowers and how much happier they would make the place. When he sat in a meeting with HR and watched their burnt-out faces stare back at him through their coffee haze, he wondered if you could make them as lively as you made him.

Bucky could - so he realized after weeks of denial - not escape you.

That was one thing. But the more chilling revelation was that he did not mind. He enjoyed the little admonitions his mind set out in his environment. He appreciated the quickening thumb in his chest, whenever he saw his calendar entries stating another meeting with you - so much so that he almost forgot how unusual it was for him.

It was crazy. A month ago, if someone had dared to tell him he’d be finding something more than his regular flings, he would have laughed in their face. In fact, he actually did a few days before he met you.

Bucky didn’t know what kind of magical spell you’d put on him, but within a few weeks, he’d started to become a different man. A better version of his thought-to-be-marvelous self. Now he realized what he was missing: a counterpart, someone who made life seem dull without them by his side. He wasn’t going to admit it to Sam or Steve immediately, but the idea of you being that very someone became more attractive each day.

“Just a lot to do with the gala and all...” Bucky trailed off and spun around to Steve.

“You know, I never took you for an event manager...” The blonde grinned and his eyes lit up in the office light. “Don’t take this the wrong way, I like seeing you try something new, but this feels very... out of place.”

“But you also know I never back down from a challenge. And I’ll be damned if Nat has something to hold against me for life.”

Steve’s head tipped forward. “We both know that woman has blackmail material for two lifetimes on us.

“She really does.” Bucky sighed and then slumped back in his chair, the little issue he had been hiding from his best friend gnawing on his mind.

He thought about Steve and Bambi and how he had just asked her to marry him. She’d said yes, of course, nobody expected otherwise. Steve - of all people - was living a magical fairytale life with the woman of his dreams. And here Bucky was, thinking he had figured it all out with women and relationships - or rather that he never wanted one - yet he found himself wondering why that decision bugged him so much when you came into the picture.

“Can I ask you something?” Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, not believing he was really going to ask Steve for dating advice.

“Always.”

“How did you know that Bambi was the one?” A stupid question, really. Bucky already knew there was nobody like you. But it was best to start this conversation off lightly.

Steve smiled widely again, his cheeks tinted pink. “Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And not in an I haven’t touched a woman in years kind of way... I couldn’t stop. Every second of every day, I imagined her with me. The thought of her made me happier even before she knew how I felt about her. And, well, it also hurt like hell when I thought she didn’t return my feelings... when she refused to talk to me for a day...” He cleared his throat and then eyed Bucky again. “Why do you want to know?”

“Nothing in particular. I was just wondering and I needed material for my best man speech.” But the blonde didn’t buy it. He caught Bucky’s chair when he attempted to turn away, pulling him right back in front of him. “Are you dating someone? Is it that woman from the flower shop?”

How did he know about you? “No??” Bucky squinted at Steve.

“You know if you wanted advice, I do consider myself an expert to some extent now.” Bucky wanted to wipe the smug grin right off his friend’s face.

“You’re an idiot.” He stood up and paced to the window.

“Oh come on, Buck.” Steve followed suit, the playful grin ever present. “You teased me for years about my love life, can’t be mad now.”

“I’m not mad.” He was annoyed.

They stood by the glass front for a while, watching the busy city unfold beneath them in the glow of the rising sun. Bucky could feel his friend’s eyes stare at him though. And after another moment of silence, the blonde finally spoke. “You should ask her out.”

“What?” He faced him again.

“You like her. I can tell. And you’ve never acted like this about a woman, let alone put so much effort into a relationship. I know it’s not your style, but I think it would do you good to at least try.”

“The effort is for the gala.” Bucky corrected.

“Right. Because that’s your thing... charity galas.” Steve squeezed Bucky’s shoulder and then tapped it and then he made his way to the door. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I really wish you would listen to your heart and not be a stubborn dickhead for once. This could be something life-changing - something great. And it’s your choice whether you welcome it or not.”

Life changing. Bucky didn’t like the sound of that. He liked to be in control of the situation and rule over his own life. However that aspect seemed to have left the building when you entered.

He huffed. There you were back on his mind again, and he felt the tingle creep up his throat. There was no denying it. What Steve had described with Bambi was what Bucky had with you.

With a shake of his head, he grabbed his coat, told Nat he’d be back in an hour, and then pressed the button for the elevator. He would deny it if Steve ever dared to take pride in convincing him to do so, but he’d also be damned if he didn’t at least try to find out if you felt the same.

❁ ❁ ❁

There was a burly-looking stranger standing at the counter when Bucky entered your shop. He had willed the traitorous voice in his head to silence all the way here. But now that he saw the handsome older man taking all your attention to the point you hadn’t even noticed him stepping in over the customer's broad shoulders, the heat began to bubble up again.

Bucky wanted to tell himself you wouldn’t prefer the salt-and-pepper-bearded man over him. But to be honest, he didn’t even know what your type was. Yes, you had cuddled on your sofa just the other night, but since Bucky wouldn’t consider himself an expert in anything other than one-night stands, it could have been a friendly gesture for all he knew.

“Would that be all for you?” You asked the man and handed him his chance. Bucky watched as his thumb grazed over your hand, feeling a tinge of anger starting to consume him.

“That’s all. Thank you, sweetheart.”

“I hope to see you again soon, sir.”

“Oh, you can bet on it.” He winked then turned, nodded to Bucky in a brief greeting, and then exited the shop. Bucky’s eyes lingered on the door for a while longer. He took deep breaths as his jaw clenched and the bell above the entrance fell silent.

“Hey.” A warm hand touched his arm, pulling him right back to your eyes. And just like that, the anger washed away a little. There were just you and him in your tiny oasis amid Brooklyn. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” He forced a smile, but the frown on his face probably betrayed him. “Just thought that man was a little inappropriate.”

“He’s just a sweet man buying flowers for his wife.” Your eyes glimmered with mischief when you bit your lip. “Bucky... are you jealous?”

Oh, hell no.

“Jealous?” Bucky wasn’t jealous. He couldn’t be. There was nothing to be jealous of. He had no claim to you. Even if he really wished he did. And yet that man had angered him with only the touch of his hand. That was the only thing he’d ever get. Bucky knew what it felt like to have you in his arms, how your body lotion settled in his nose, how your head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. “No.”

“But you should not be so naïve, dove. Married men are also flirting... and cheating.”

A short laugh escaped your throat before you caught yourself again and Bucky’s heart began doing that funny somersault thing. “Not to burst your bubble or anything, but I do know how the real world works.” You crossed your arms before your chest. “Besides, what do you care if he did ask me out? Maybe it has been a lifelong dream of mine to be a mistress.”

“It’s not. And I don’t. I just think you deserve someone better than a cheater.”

“Oh, like who? The percentage of good guys in this city is disappointingly low.”

Bucky snorted, guided by the excitement in his chest he opened his arms. “Please, I could name at least five guys off the top of my head who are better than whatever that was.” His left hand flailed in the direction of the door, referring to the previous customer.

“Name one.”

“Me.”

The surprise sprung onto your features faster than Bucky realized what he had said. “What?”

Well, this was certainly not the way he had planned to ask you out today. Damn jealousy. The only way for this to not be embarrassing was to own up to it now. It was what he had come here for after all, right?

Bucky looked directly into your eyes, his expression sincere and determined. "Yes, me. I may not have everything figured out, but I do know one thing: I care about you. I've seen the way you light up a room, the kindness you show to everyone around you. You deserve someone who sees that, who appreciates it.”

Your eyes softened when you shook your head, averting your gaze to the ground. “I don’t know, Bucky.”

He bit the insides of his cheeks, instantly hoping you’d say something else. Anything that would show him there was a chance you would change your mind. The silence was all-consuming, but he kept his mouth shut, careful not to fuck it up once again.

“Bucky, I appreciate your honesty, I really do. But I don't think it's a good idea.”

Bucky's brows furrowed, his confidence wavering as your soft refusal hit him. "What do you mean, you don't know?" he asked, his tone tinged with a hint of frustration. He struggled to keep his composure, the unfamiliar feeling of rejection gnawing at him. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he searched for the right thing to say. His jaw tensed, betraying the hurt he felt deep down. "Forget it," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. With a curt nod, he turned on his heel, his disappointment palpable in the air as he made his exit, leaving you to contemplate his unexpected confession.

❁ ❁ ❁

“Why, don’t you just look precious!” You bent down and picked up Sam’s daughter, Darla, who had eagerly stormed through the door as soon as he’d opened it because she wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the handle yet.

“You... I’ve missed you soooo much.” You nuzzled her into your chest and pretended to squeeze real tight.

“Come play dragons with me!” The little one squirmed and then hopped off in her tiny knight costume.

“Nothing I would rather do,” you singsonged and then mouthed a ‘she’s grown so much’ to Sam before he closed the door with a shake of his head.

“I know... she just does it without my permission. Unbelievable.”

About ten minutes later, you sat on the living room floor with a bunch of stuffed dragons, you had been instructed to play. Sam’s daughter was happily fighting the stuffies with her wooden sword and his husband handed you a cup of coffee with a smile.

“So how have things been?” Matt sat down on the sofa and Sam instantly wrapped his arm around him. Your eyes lingered on the interaction for a second before your gaze wandered back to Darla.

“Oh, you know, business as usual. The shop is doing very well... the shelters are holding up.” You smiled at her and then made a dragon fall backward in defeat.

“Hm...” He frowned. “That’s weird... I had a feeling it was getting better soon.”

You smiled tight-lipped and wondered if you had butchered it all with your stubbornness. Matt wasn’t clairvoyant or anything crazy like it. But the joke of his other senses being heightened due to his impaired vision had carried on forever. And even though you never believed in supernatural magical things, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, there was a hunch of truth to it nonetheless. He had been right about many other things after all.

“I don’t know,” you sighed and Darla excused herself to her room to ‘get more toys’. “Except for the shop, everything else seems to go a little downhill right now.”

“But you have been seeing someone, no?” Matt tilted his head and Sam squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to make him stop.

“Babe, do we need to talk about appropriate prying again?”

“Sorry,” Matt blushed, “Occupational hazard.”

You laughed and then turned serious again. “I have... but to be honest, I doubt it will have a future. It’s - I don’t know - it just seems a little too good to be true.”

“It’s been Bucky you’ve been seeing, hasn’t it?” Sam chimed in with a calm deep voice, making your attention snap to him. Your heart began to race at the mention of Bucky’s name.

“How did you know?”

His fingers lifted in air quotes “A gorgeous girl with a flower shop in Brooklyn that somehow tries to convince him to donate to Sunflower shelters? You did not make it hard, honey.”

“He... he talks to you about me?” Well, that changes things, you thought as you watched Sam reassure you with a small smile.

"More like a little birdy told me...." Sam shrugged. “What happened?” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes holding concern.

“Isn’t it obvious? I don’t want to be one of his many trophies. And I’m scared, I just made the chase attractive by not putting out immediately.” Your eyes turned glassy. “What if he will lose interest when I do.” Your voice broke, making you almost whisper the last part into the living room. “Because I really really want to...”

Matt cleared his throat. “If it helps anything... I have a feeling you are not going to be just another one-night stand.”

“And why is that?”

“I’ve never seen him like this.” Sam chimed in. “So butthurt about a girl or even put effort in a relationship that would only become a one night stand - which it is not - he wants more, he needs more. He sees a future with you. And as much as his bad-boy demeanor has made that pretty unbelievable in the past, he is changing. I just know, and it’s about time that he aims for peace and quiet and love and comfort.”

Turning your head with a suspicious grin, you answered: “Is Matt contagious? Because that sounded one hell of a lot like a prediction to me.”

Sam just shook his head with a smile, scooted forward on the sofa, and then took your hands in his. “Believe me when I say this: You are so amazing. And not even a douchebag like Bucky could deny it. Yes, he has had his fair share of women in the past, and he can be the most stubborn dickhead in all of New York City, but he’s not stupid. He knows something valuable when he sees it. And you, love, have given him the most precious thing he’s ever had.”

You held eye contact for a short moment, letting your friend’s words sink in and warm you from the inside until the butterflies in your stomach began to tingle. As much as you wanted to refuse, you had shown him love and acceptance every step of the way. And Bucky? Bucky had tried so hard to impress you. He had done so many things just for you, to spend time with you.

You just wrote it off as a means to get you to sleep with him. But at this point, that argument was farfetched. Because throughout the time you spent together, his presence was pleasant, casual, and... wanted.

“So what do I do now?” You said with determination, making a smile spark on both Sam’s and Matt’s faces.

❁ ❁ ❁

“So, Barnes is unusually grumpy tonight.” Bucky heard Tony say when he came back from the bathroom, jamming his glas on the table to announce he was listening. “Did you get cockblocked or what?”

“Shut it, Stark, or I’ll personally demonstrate your very own cockblock.” Bucky pressed through his teeth.

“Damn, Buck. What the hell could possibly throw you off this much?” Tony signaled for two more drinks to the bar as Bucky took a seat again.

Sam looked at him with a raised brow - the fucker knew what was going on. But Bucky refused to get dragged into talking about his feelings.

“I thought it was going good?” Steve chimed in, a question in his features. Steve, you punk. Shut up!

Bucky knew he was referring to the bouquets of flowers that subtly decorated the office now. First his own desk, then the kitchen. And when Nat had grown suspicious, he proceeded to place them on her desk to have her stop asking questions.

It wasn’t his doing - not this time. You had just given him a bouquet of the flowers you couldn’t sell anymore every time you met. And Bucky couldn’t bring himself to throw them out. They also reminded him of you and were a nice little distraction from work. ...Not that it mattered anymore.

“Going good? What is going on? What are you talking about, Rogers?”

“Bucky met a- ouch goddamnit!” A kick was heard from beneath the table. And when Steve’s eyes snapped over to Sam, the man just tipped his head with a warning stare. “What the hell, man?”

“Okay, that’s it. I feel like you guys don’t tell me anything. I need details. Now.”

“No.”

Bucky didn’t need Tony to know. In fact, Bucky didn’t need anyone to know he had trouble talking to a woman. He, of all people, who never had any difficulties getting even the married ones - yeah he wasn’t too proud of that... But Tony would just make everything worse. And with his patience hanging by a thread right about now, he was not willing to play with fire.

“Buck, we- they’re your friends. They deserve to know, especially if things are as serious as you told me.” Bucky just stared at Steve in silence, his gaze trained on the crystal class in front of him with the amber liquid untouched. Steve always had a need to calm the storm. And maybe, Bucky would let him do it this time.

Truthfully, Bucky couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore. His friends would sooner or later hear about you - if he had not fucked it up entirely. So, it was better to rip the band-aid off now than peel it back painfully slow in the future.

He crossed his arms and exchanged a brief glance with the blonde, and Steve understood that he was allowed to proceed.

“Bucky met someone. He’s organizing the charity gala this year and she’s the florist doing the flower arrangements.” He had never noticed it before, but ever since Bambi had entered Steve’s life, his best friend’s fable for romance became more and more apparent to Bucky.

“She’s also helped him find a cause to donate to. She’s been taking him to the Shelter she has worked at for years,” Sam chimed in and Bucky didn’t even question where he got his information from anymore. Steve and he had always been close, and though Bucky didn’t believe Steve would tell Sam his most private conversations, Sam always had a way of finding out.

“Event planning? Florist? Who are you and what have you done to Bucky?” Tony looked seriously stunned, But Bucky didn’t expect anything less than incomprehension. He had always been the only one in the group Tony could relate to and talk to when it came to women and lifestyles. Now, that very thing was slipping away.

Bucky just shrugged, uncertain how to answer. It was true: He had changed quite a bit ever since meeting you. But they weren't bad changes. He actually liked them.

Steve cleared his throat. “I thought things were going great, just the other day he talked about asking her out. And there were all these flowers in the office, I just assumed...”

“Yeah well, they weren’t.” Bucky interrupted as he felt the frustration creep back up. There were so many new feelings mixing within him that he didn’t know what to do with them.

“Well it’s good to have you back, I guess. Can’t imagine how that would’ve turned out.” Tony’s hand landed on Bucky’s shoulder, who immediately brushed it off.

“What do you mean ‘turned out’?”

His head swayed from left to right and his hands turned outward. “Well, we all agree it would have never worked out right? You’re not the one for relationships and she was clearly using you for that charity money.”

What the actual fuck?

“You don’t know her. So don’t you dare assume anything about her.” Bucky sprung up, his hands hitting the table with a thump. “Dove has the kindest, most beautiful soul on this earth.” He wouldn’t let Tony, of all people, insult you. Not you. Not his dove. And, yes, maybe it also hurt a little that his friend did not believe Bucky could change for something truly important. And maybe it scratched his ego that this might have been the reason for your rejection the other day. But all of that seemed unimportant now.

“Look at you growing all protective.”

“Tony.” Steve’s condescending tone rumbled over the booth.

A look at Tony and Bucky wanted to smack the smirk off his face. Another look at Sam, whose eyes had grown soft with empathy. And one last look at Steve, who’d only wanted him to be as happy as him. Damn it.

“You wouldn’t fucking know what I’m talking about, Stark.”

And then he stormed out of the Ironbar and into the night, head fuming, heart racing, and only one thing on his mind.

❁ ❁ ❁

You were pretty sure Bucky would have kicked your door down had you not opened it the second time he wrapped his fist against it. Now he was standing in front of you, cheeks reddened from the cool night air, chest rising with deep breaths, but still devilishly handsome.

“Hey, Bucky!” You smiled until you noticed the irritated look in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He seemingly ignored you, stepping into your home and then turning once you closed the door. “Do you think I can change?”

“What?”

“Do you believe I could change? That I could become the person you would date?” His eyes were pleasing, his head cocked to the side - fidgedy.

“Is... is this about the other day?”

Bucky looked nervous, vulnerable even. “Just answer my question, please.”

“I believe everyone has the ability to change. But I also know not everyone wants to.” You looked at your hands, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

“Then why... why do you think I haven’t. Through all the times we’ve gone to the shelter, through all the conversations. I’ve never had that with someone before... what I have with you.”

There it was. You knew you had to talk to him about it sooner or later. Sam and Matt had suggested as much. You just didn't know it would be this soon.

“Bucky, I just don’t want to end up as one of the women passing you on the street, throwing side eyes at the newest one you’re having on your arm.” Yeah... that encounter had been a rather awkard one. Not to mention how nervous you were that night, hopig Bucky had only played it cool in order to protect you.

“See, but that wouldn’t happen to you, dove. It wouldn’t. Because I realized that you are the reason that makes me want to change.” Bucky's gaze softened as he spoke, his tone gentle yet resolute he stepped closer. “I'm not perfect, but I promise you this: I'll always try my best for you. So, yeah, maybe it's a long shot, but I think I could be good for you. And if you'd give me the chance, I'd love to show you.” He took your hands in his, then closed his eyes and came even closer. “I know I'd treat you right.”

Throughout his confession, your gaze never faltered from his face. You could feel the desperate honesty in his tone, in the way his hands lightly trembled. He was scared, and he lay that emotion in your hands - for you to do whatever you needed with it.

Your voice was shaky when you answered, a light hue of shame fogging the question on the tip of your tongue. “But how do I know...?” That this is not what you’re telling every woman in this godforsaken city?

But Bucky understood. Because apparently that pull you'd had toward him had been there for a reason. “Because the things you make me feel scare me.” His face was mere inches from yours now, you could see every speck of color in his irises. “They scare me because I’ve never felt them before. Every time I’m not with you, I think of you. In every situation I am in alone, I imagine how much more exciting it would be with you in it. I’m going crazy. I’m lost without you, dove.”

A single tear ran down your face at his confession. This moment felt so raw, his words so sincere. But most importantly, it made your heart pound with excitement.

“Will you be mine?” His forehead leaned against yours, his hands moving up your arms and to your neck. “Please say yes,” he whispered and his breath tickled your nose.

He just felt so right. Bucky felt right in your home, in your arms, in your life. “Yes.” You finally answered and as soon as the syllable left your mouth, his lips came crashing onto yours.

Within seconds, Bucky had you pressed against the door. His hands held your face lovingly, his hands warm and big on your skin. The kiss was deep and so unbelievably pure, it punched the breath from your lunges the second your lips connected. And suddenly you knew that Bucky’s words held far less emptiness than you had feared. Nobody could kiss like this and not be sincere. At least you hoped it to be true because once you’d gotten a taste, you knew you would never want to try anything else. You could get drunk off him. Forever.

Your hands wandered beneath Bucky’s coat, settling in the warmth of his back beneath the thick wool and feeling the muscles ripple when he pulled you even closer.

You sighed into him because the moment felt so right, so perfect, so tailored to the two of you and Bucky brushed his tongue over your bottom lip. The tingle from the gesture traveled down your spine. Before you could hold yourself back, you let his touch swallow you whole.

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky moaned, a feeling so warm and enjoyable taking over his body with every breath you stole from him. He had wanted for this to happen for weeks. And the real thing did not disappoint.

Your hands roamed his back until they hooked onto his shoulders and began shrugging off his coat. He tried hard to keep your lips on his during the action, not wanting to miss a single moment without them anymore. You were here, you were his, and it was perfect.

“Bucky,” you whimpered when his thigh made its way between your legs. A move so instinctually feeling for him. But all the other women he’d been with before only seemed like practice now. Preparation to be the best lover you’ve ever had and ever will have. Because you were the real thing, the grand prize, the best person to ever happen to him.

You ground down on his legs in rhythmic motions, Bucky could feel the heat seeping through his expensive dress pants and it made him feel even hotter. He pushed his leg higher, reveling in the sounds that came from your lips and the very knowledge he was the one providing this pleasure. There was nothing more exhilarating.

But still, it wasn’t enough. “There are too many layers of clothes between us, dove,” his wet breath brushed against your cheek as he pulled his thigh back for you to take off your jeans.

“You’re so right.” You grinned and then pulled them down in one swift motion only to reveal a pink pear of panties underneath.

In an instant, his body was pressed to yours again, his lips attaching to yours like magnets - he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you. But instead of placing his leg right back to get you that delicious friction, his hand began traveling down your front until it disappeared in your underwear.

If you were any other woman, Bucky would’ve gone down on you. He would have dropped to his knees and eaten you out because he knew it was the fastest way he’d make you come. And he took pride in the fact that the women he was with always had at least one orgasm more than him. But he didn’t do so with you.

Why?

Because Bucky Barnes got high off of your lips, and he couldn’t possibly imagine not seeing your face, feeling your mouth shape in a silent scream when he would make you come for the first time.

So his hand had to do for now. His fingers slipped past the thin pink cotton and over your mound to gather your slickness. He gasped when he reached your heated core. “You’re so wet for me, love. So ready.” He pecked the corner of your lips. “So perfect.”

“Yes!” You whined and pressed your pussy into his touch. Bucky immediately started to trace circles on your clit. He took his time to find the motions with which your breath staggered, or your fists clenched in his shirt. With every whimper, every stroke of his hand, he felt his dick strain his pants a little more - the aching exciting him for when he could finally sink into you.

“Shit, don’t stop. I’m so close.”

“I don’t plan on ever stopping.” He growled into your mouth, his hand movements becoming more frantic, the wet noises filling your apartment. Frankly, Bucky didn’t believe he could ever stop giving you pleasure and having you writhe in his arms with deep sighs. Not until he knew how you sounded cumming on his hand, on his face, on his dick, on the sofa, on the bed, and every other surface he could possibly imagine. Your body was like ecstasy.

Your walls began to clench around his fingers, every drag becoming harder as he imagined his cock being squeezed by you instead. “There you go, Baby. That’s it.”

“OH MY GOD!” You screamed as your hand pulled on his hair, your body growing rigid with pleasure and Bucky kissed every curse word from your lips.

After a minute, he slowly pulled his hand back, the other caressing the skin on your cheek. “Are you okay?” He whispered, his eyes boring into yours in genuine concern.

“Are you kidding? I’m more than okay. That was incredible.” Bucky couldn’t help the small chuckle from leaving his lips at your praise.

“You look really fucking pretty when you come.”

“I’m glad. Because I want you to make me do it again.” You kissed his cheek. “And again.” And then you gently stroked his cock through his pants. “And again.”

And the second you said that Bucky pulled you onto the floor with him. He took his time removing your clothes, kissed the trial of your bra strap all the way down your shoulder, licked and bit at your hips all the way down to your ankles where he finally pulled off your underwear and pressed his lips to the soft skin of your leg. And when you were fully naked, he paused. Bucky’s eyes roamed your body, taking in every divot, every mark and curve of yours.

He sat back on his haunches, his head getting dizzy when the butterflies took over. “God, you’re so beautiful,” Bucky softly wheezed, his hand slowly stroking your leg as you lay spread out in front of him.

“Come here.” You gestured with your arms open, welcoming him in your embrace with a wide smile. Bucky supported his weight with his arms on either side of your head and let your hands bury in his hair. He closed his eyes letting the warmth of your touch overtake him. Your thumbs stroked over his brows before you whispered: “Look at me.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I doubted you. I feel the appreciation in the way you talk to me and touch me. It was unfair of me to assume you are your reputation.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s not like I made it easy for you to believe me.”

You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Well, I do now.” Your eyes locked with his and a new fire lit within them.

“Good.” He smirked and then rolled you over so that you were straddling his waist. The cool wooden floor hit his bare back as you had bunched his shirt up on the way, now pulling it over his head and revealing your satisfied stare when your hands traced over his abs.

You shook your head and released a breath. “Shame on me for refusing this for so long.” Your fingers passed his happy trail and began working on his belt. Bucky’s thumbs stroked your thighs as he watched you undress him, the tent in his pants ever so present and growing with every brush of your fingers.

“Don’t worry, dove. We have all the time in the world to make up for it.” When his pants were off he pulled you forward again, kissing you ferociously. “‘Cause I’m not planning on leaving.”

You smirked and ground down on his cock, interrupting his speech and ripping a guttural sound from his chest.

He had been holding back. Ever since you'd dragged him into that shelter, he had not touched a woman, because you had him hooked the second you had taken his hand on the way. And now he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from coming in his boxers like a school boy.

“Are you getting nervous, Bucky?” You grinned and moved again to tease him a little more.

“Can you blame me?” He clenched his jaw when you rocked forward again, his hand stilling your hips with a near-bruising grip. “I’ve wanted you ever since I stepped foot in your shop.”

“You did?” Your head cocked to the side, surprise washing over your face and his dick twitched making Bucky’s cheeks heat up.

“Yes...” He confessed only to be attacked with your kisses again. He groaned and bucked his hips up until you were a moaning mess on top of him. His hands reached around you, settling on your ass and giving it a small clap.

“Hand me my walled, baby. It’s in my pants.”

“Why?”

“We need a condom if you don’t want to keep dry-humping me.” He smirked, knowing, feeling there was nothing dry about this anymore. Your arousal was already drenching his boxers. The slick pushing him close to losing it.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to, I have an IUD.”

“As much as I want to, we should be safe...” Bucky swallowed and averted his eyes in regret. “Have to get tested again.”

“Oh, ok.” You were disappointed, he could tell. And Bucky was too. It was the first time he ever regretted all his one-night stands because he would kill to fuck you raw and feel all of you. And as hazy as your body made him, he could not ignore the fact that he did have several different sex partners before. It would have to wait a few weeks. And when he would come back clean, he would keep you in the bedroom for a week straight.

You must have noticed his misery because you leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Then you scooched back and retrieved the condom from his wallet. Bucky held his breath when your fingers hooked into his waistband. And when you pulled them down, his cock stood proud and thick with precum already pearling from his tip.

He reached for the shiny packet in your hand but you pulled your arm up, your eyes stuck on his cock. “Let me.”

“Okay,” he breathed out as he watched you rip the packet. His shaft twitched when your careful hands rolled the condom over him, another bead of precum dripping into the condom and before he could collect himself, you rubbed your pussy all over him, coating him in your arousal.

Bucky’s hands turned into fists at your sides as he watched you finally sink down on him - inch by inch, your heat welcomed him, his body sparking with pleasure all over. You moaned in unison when he was fully seated inside you, his cock being hugged tightly in your warmth - he’d barely held it together then.

You planted your hands on his abdomen and rocked forward, sending the both of you reeling. It took a second for Bucky to collect himself. His eyes closed and his nose huffing, he reminded himself of what he had promised you and what he wanted his first time with you to be. When he opened his eyes again, his hands moved over your body with determination. One setting over your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers, the other began tracing tight circles on your clit.

Your head fell back, a vision of ecstasy and pleasure unfolding before him when he sent you over the edge a second time. He slowed your hips on his and rubbed your pussy with his thumb. He needed you to come again. And then again, and he had to hold out for that long. But the way your chest heaved, the light sheen of sweat forming on your skin, made his plan more than difficult.

It took all of Bucky’s willpower to pull you off his cock and push you to his legs. He sat up and kissed up your neck until he reached your lips. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you what you asked for.” He mumbled against your skin and then licked over your nipple, the other being caressed by his fingers. His free hand found its place right between your legs again and when you moaned lowly, he slipped two fingers inside you.

Your pussy was squelching, the lewd sound traveling across the living room as Bucky worked you towards another release. You were already squirming in his hands again. Your fists pulled at his roots, sending a shiver straight to his cock when you leaned his head back. “You’re amazing.” Your breath was hot, fanning over his lips only to be replaced by them again. His tongue slipped inside and mimicking the movement of his fingers in your pussy.

“Right back at ya, dove. I can't wait to be inside you again.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“For you to come again.” He bit your lip and sped up his fingers already feeling you squeeze him tightly. “So you’re satiated when I come deep inside you, feeling you squeeze me with that perfect pussy of yours until you see stars.”

“Shitshitshit. I’m coming!” A series of curses flew past him when you pulsed around his fingers, gushing all over his hand and lap until he finished rocking you through your third orgasm.

“Fuck,” Bucky licked your juices off his fingers and his eyes rolled back into his head.

“I don’t think I have another in me, Bucky.”

“Don’t worry, love. I got you.” And with that he hooked your legs around his waist, falling forward until you were with your back to the floor, Bucky hovering over you and aligning his length with your entrance.

He couldn’t wait anymore, in one swift motion, Bucky fully bottomed out until his balls hit your ass. And when he was confident you were comfortable, he set a relentless pace. He had been on the edge this entire time. You had almost made him come just having him watch you let go. But there was nothing like the feeling of your pussy hugging him tightly, your body writhing beneath his, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and nails raking down his back.

“You feel so good,” he grunted and you just moaned in response.

“Look at me, please.” His hand turned your face. “I need to see you.”

Bucky snapped his hips into yours even faster, your walls already clenching tightly around him and he threatened to burst. Your eyes opened and fell to his and Bucky couldn’t stop his orgasm from ripping through him anymore. His strokes stuttered, his balls tightened, but he held eye contact with you, searching your hand behind his back to lock your fingers with his.

The white pleasure exploded within him, elevated by your own peak hitting with full force. He kissed you then, feeling like he was somewhere between heaven and your living room floor. His mind was consumed by you, his body tingling in aftershocks as he rocked you through your highs.

His damp chest fell into yours when you came down. He rolled on his back, taking you with him, pressed deeply into his body, his cock still buried inside you. Bucky’s chest was heaving, the last remnants of pleasure sparkling in his nerves. He kissed your hand and cuddled you closer.

This was what he was made for. To be with you, to be consumed by your affection and warmth.

He smoothed over your head and felt your lashes flutter on his skin. His heart was blooming with contentment - all the fear he’d felt to commit was miles away, lost somewhere between the Ironbar and your doorstep. There was nothing he was more sure of.

“Let me do this right. Let me take you out.” He whispered into your hair with a smile, trying to remember a time he’d ever been this happy.

You snorted as your hand gently stroked over his chest. “Bucky, you’re literally ballsdeep inside of me right now.”

Bucky chuckled as well, his hand rubbed down your bare back in a soothing motion when he kissed your head. “Nothing like a convincing argument, huh.”

You already know your girl couldn't decide which GIF to use. So here are the extra ones:

Woooow, you've made it this far! Thank you so much 💕 If you have some time to spare, I would reaaaally appreciate some feedback from you. A comment or a reblog can help so much to reach more people and improve writing. Talk to you soon ~Meg 💞

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sweetbuckybarnes · 4 months

Text

Who is This? - Bucky x Reader

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky had a wife during the 40s, she was left heartbroken after the telegram arrived (missing, presumed dead). It's surprising when 80 years later, she was working behind a bar in Madripoor of all places!

Bucky followed Sam and Zemo into a loud bar, he immediately wanted to turn around and go home, why had Zemo demanded he go back to being the Winter Soldier (even if it was one night)?

The sound of heavy drums and guitars also deafened his hearing, a song he had come to learn was The Wild Boy by a band called Duran Duran. A few bartenders and waitresses were walking around, there was only one who stuck out to him - a dark-haired young woman who reminded him too much of his departed wife.

His heart breaks even more, thinking of the woman he had left behind, his girl. The love of his life. Bucky doesn't think he will ever 'get over' her.

The way the young woman walked, carrying a tray of empty glasses (before being tossed an empty bottle by a patron), was so similar to the way his girl walked in the hole-in-the-wall diner she worked in.

She wasn't quick enough to duck under the bar before they got to the door leading upstairs (which was coincidentally next to the bar), Zemo was talking to the bouncer. "Excuse me, gentlemen," the young woman said, squeezing between the back of Zemo and the front of Bucky. Which is when he got a good look at her face.

There she was.

His girl. His wife.

He couldn't even say anything to her, as he was taken upstairs and away from his girl. He could only hope he would be allowed back in at the end of the night to see her.

Y/N Barnes made her way behind the bar, glancing up at the TV where the Kansas City Chiefs were currently playing the Buffalo Bills at Arrowhead Stadium, then down at her phone which showed the live score of the Dodgers game against the San Francisco Giants.

She had been a long-time Dodgers girl, even after she found out they had moved from Brooklyn to Los Angeles.

"Did you see the way he was looking at you?" Yasmine asked, pushing a dry Martini in front of a 26-year-old woman.

Y/N looked up from the glasses she was putting in the dishwasher. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

"One of the men who went upstairs. The way he was looking at you," Yasmine fans her hand for dramatic effect. "I would drop my panties for him in a millisecond."

"Like you don't do that every night."

Yasmine rolled her eyes and served the next half-drunk who had come to the bar.

"Don't listen to her," Anastasia told her, rolling her eyes as Yasmine flirted with her current flavour of the week.

"It's not often I do, darling," Y/N replied, fiddling with Anastasia's curls for a second, before spotting a patron. "What can I get for you, darling?"

He hung off the bar, obviously far too drunk to understand what was going on. "Another beer and your phone number," he slurred.

She shook her head, reaching over and grabbing him another beer. As far as the boss of the bar (whoever that was) was concerned unless they were unconscious- why should you stop serving them? Y/N thought it wasn't right, but no matter how often she voiced this - she was shut down.

She set the beer in front of him and then went to the register to add it to his bill (good thing she currently has his credit card behind the bar).

"Oi, sweet cheeks!" He calls, but Y/N doesn't pay attention looking over at Yasmine and Anastasia with a raised eyebrow. "Sweet cheeks! I asked for your number."

Y/N replied by simply raising her hand proudly displaying her engagement and wedding rings to the drunk. It was only a small diamond (given Bucky worked on the docks before he was deployed), and the plain band she inherited from her great-grandmother.

"What's the matter with that 'un?" He hiccups. "He got you costume jewellery or somethin'?"

Y/N shook her head. "I'm going into the back for a moment," she tells Aidan.

Little did the drunk patron know, all those years ago, this was the date she was handed the telegraph - putting in such blunt words. Her James was missing, they presumed him to be dead. It breaks her heart that they never got to have a proper funeral.

"You alright, honey?" Elizabeth (another one of the waitresses) asked, she had been outside on her break. Elizabeth was the only one who knew her true age and about her James.

"It's the day I found out James was missing," Y/N said, before bursting into more tears.

Elizabeth wrapped Y/N up in a hug, everyone oblivious to the fact that Y/N's presumed dead husband was now running through the bar, flocked by Sam and Zemo, and into the alley behind the bar.

When Bucky was sure Zemo, Sam and Sharon were asleep, he slipped out of the safe house and into the night - determined to find out if the woman he saw in the bar was that of his (presumably? should be?) dead wife.

He eventually made his way to the front door of the bar, the bouncers had long since gone home. He could see lights on in the building and just about make out words being spoken thanks to the Super Soldier serum running through his veins.

He grasped the handle and gave it a push, the door hadn't been locked, as it gave beneath the slight push.

He could see three young women sitting on the bar, a man who was counting the money from the register and another man who was dancing.

The young woman sitting closest to the bar, had golden curls hanging around her head. "Mark, you didn't lock the door!"

The man dancing, Mark, looked over at Bucky, eyes widening when he saw the size of Bucky. "I say we just serve him, then lock the door behind him."

As the bartenders and waitress argued amongst themselves, Bucky's eyes never left the woman in the middle. It looked as if she had been crying. "Babydoll?"

The woman stopped giggling, tipping her head back to normal and looked at him, before dropping her glass as tears welled up in her eyes. "James?"

The curly-haired woman gasped, setting her glass down and giving Y/N a push off the bar.

Bucky held his arms out to catch her as her feet landed on the floor. He couldn't stop looking at her big eyes, he'd always loved her big expressive eyes. He always knew how she was feeling by just a look in her eyes.

"James? Is that you?" Her hand came out slowly, and shakily, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing in front of her.

"Hi, babydoll," Bucky smiled, tears starting to fall down his cheeks, a heavy sob held tightly in his chest at the moment in time. As soon as her fingers met his skin, Bucky let out a heavy sigh of relief, reaching over and pulling her into his arms. Y/N's arms dug themselves away from his chest and up around his neck before her hand soon started fiddling with his hair.

The couple stood there for a moment, finally finding their slice of peace. Some came barging into the bar, and the dark-haired woman who had been sitting on the other side of Y/N practically demanded Mark lock the door before the Hounds of Baskerville came in.

Y/N was so happy to finally have her James back in her arms, but there was a whirling sound she couldn't let go. "What's that noise?"

Bucky looked from his wife to his arm and back to his bride. "I'll explain everything to you later, but... I lost my arm, and I now have a prosthetic one," he tells her, letting go of her for a moment so he could take his glove off and show her the black and gold Vibranium one he had made.

"Ok, James. It's a good thing you gave me this," she reached beneath her top and pulled a ring out from beneath, hanging from a chain. "Before you were deployed."

Bucky smiled, cupping her face so he could kiss her. Bucky pulled away chuckling a little. "Babydoll, will you please put my ring back on?"

She reached behind her to unclasp the chain, and slid Bucky's band off, "if it doesn't fit we'll get it resized."

"I don't care what size it is, as long as you put my ring back where it belongs," Bucky almost growled, a piece of him falling back into place with the ring back on his finger.

The next morning - Sam, Zemo and Sharon came into the living room, seeing Bucky sleeping on the sofa (Sam was expecting this, after being told by Steve), however, there was a lump lying next to Bucky they didn't recognise.

Sam slowly makes his way over, gently easing down the thick blanket lying over Bucky and the lump.

Lying there, practically on top of the 'bionic staring machine' was a young woman.

"Did he somehow pick up a girl?" Sam whispered. Sam and Sharon were trying to be quiet - however, Zemo (who didn't care) started clattering around the kitchen, causing Bucky to wake up in a start, which then caused the young woman to look up with tired owl-like eyes.

"What the hell is going on?" Bucky nearly demanded, keeping his arms wrapped around his companion.

Sam raised his eyebrow. "I could ask you the same question, Barnes?" Sam looked at the young woman in Bucky's arms. "Who is this?"

Bucky looked down at her, Sam watched as a smile grew on his face. "This is Y/N. Y/N Barnes. My wife."

#bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #sam wilson #sharon carter #baron zemo #takes place in the falcon and the winter soldier #this had been going around in my head for DAYS!!!#1k #2k

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 15 days

Note

hiiiii, maybe bucky being pussy drunk all the time while around reader? like he acts all tuff and shit but he is sooooo clingy around her, doing whatever she says and waiting kisses all the time (also wanting to ear her out bc why not)

hiiii pickle!! love this so bad omg!! thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

WHIPPED.

bucky barnes x fem!reader — smut

word count. 559

warnings. 18+ cunnilingus (oral, f receiving) bucky being pussy whipped like the angel he is. minors dni

If you were to tell people what Bucky was like when it was just the two of you, you knew no one would believe you. A disbelieving laugh in the face would be their only response.

Sure, Bucky is this stereotypical depiction of masculinity: big, tough, rugged, manly - but the second he gets you alone, he essentially turns into a pile of mush. Utterly cute, soft and completely whipped. Often following you around like a lost puppy, hands always seeming to find themselves weaved into yours.

It's warming, really. The comfort he absorbs from you is touching.

But when he's not in that 'love me' mood, he's in a 'let me love you' mood. Both vastly different from what others see of him on the daily.

Those times —like now— when he finds you on the sofa, laid back, mindlessly watching the TV ahead, he'd sit beside you - moving your legs to rest atop his lap. He'd play with the edging of your sweats, running his fingers lightly over your ankles - silently trying to pull your attention away from the screen.

His faintest touches would never fail to elicit those feelings of want within you. It's Bucky - it would be mad for that not to happen.

And the second he meets your eyes, his hands are running higher - grazing over the fabric covering your legs. He's waiting for you to stop him, but he knows that'll never happen. So he'd continue with the soft caressing of your lower half, skimming over your thighs to paw at your waistband.

His fingers snake into the elastic, tugging with gentle motions - watching the subtle reactions on your face as he pulls the fabric over your hips. The lace frilly lining of your underwear almost instantly catching his attention. You wore them specifically, knowing what he'd be like after going to the gym.

He cups under each of your knees as he pulls you out of your sweats, holding one leg at a time until your legs are completely bare - thighs utterly tempting and on display. His head cocks the side as he looks down at you, watching what appears to be a knowing expression spread across your features. It was the look of amusement - just the mere thought of him being so pussy whipped, is enough to make you smile.

He settles between your legs, his belly flat across the couch, face buried in the soft plush of your inner thighs - arms hooked over your hips as he maintains your gaze. His eyes never break from yours.

His lips brush over the crease next to your cunt, his mouth ghosting the edging of your underwear - hovering over your folds until he's right where you want him. Nudging closer, he begins peppering kisses onto your clit through the fabric, littering little love pecks on that attentive nub. He's light and teasing with it - his breath nice and hot against your pussy.

You reach down between your thighs and skim your hands into his hair, fingers grazing through the short ends at the top of his head - holding him there.

It all felt too good, but you wanted more. But all you had to do was ask. Just ask Bucky for more, and he will give it to you. No questions asked.

I WAAANT HIM SO BAD!!

and this is so bad sorry, k bye

#yonlyssguts #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky smut #bucky x reader smut

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pellucid-constellations · 8 months

Text

Are You Bored Yet?

Pairing: College!Bucky x Tutor!Reader

Summary: God, you hated Bucky. Bucky probably hated you, too. Maybe. It was hard to tell when he was drunk and calling you pretty at a party you shouldn't have gone to.

Word count: 8k

Warnings: Alcohol, annoyance to lovers, a bit of angst, a scary man in a parking lot, frat!bucky c:

a/n: I am so excited to finally post something!! It only took me four months 😅 If you enjoy it please please let me know ❤️❤️

Masterlist

12:59 pm.

The birchwood table nestled in the back of the library was long but otherwise empty, the only thing occupying it being your laptop and quite a few books. He wasn’t late. Yet. You weren’t going to hold onto that hope, however.

Tutoring Bucky Barnes was not what you had in mind when you volunteered for the peer assistance program at your university. It was true you were only using the club to boost your resume, but you had assumed the only people reaching out for help would be those that actually wanted it. Unfortunately, that was not the case.

Sure, Bucky wanted help. Just not with anything that actually warranted the word. He wanted help sweet talking the cops so they wouldn't shut down his parties. He wanted help recruiting girls to show up to his parties. And—the one thing you could actually do—he wanted help passing his classes with the minimum GPA required to not get kicked out of his frat. So he could continue to throw parties.

Everything in his life revolved around his fraternity, which made you very important to him. When he wanted you to be.

With your apparently astounding knowledge of biology (you took notes during lectures), you became the star in Bucky’s life every Monday and Wednesday from 1:00 pm (give or take ten minutes) to 2:00 pm. He was also very attentive during the thirty minute phone calls he initiated prior to tests, and always looked happy to see you when he passed you devouring a bagel at the crack of dawn in the dining hall.

Every situation in which you had come in contact with Bucky was isolated and purposeful (minus the bagel). You didn’t hang out or invite each other places, and you were almost positive that if you were to see him in his natural habitat, you would want to tutor him even less than you did now, and that was saying something. So you were important to Bucky during the times you were supposed to be important, and he was important to you in the sense that he was a job.

But as your laptop blinked the numbers 1:22 pm back at your unimpressed expression, Bucky became much less important today. You took in a long, tortured breath before sending your gaze up to the ceiling, giving it another three minutes before you truly gave up on him for the day.

One minute.

Two minutes.

The library really needed new ceiling tiles.

1:25 pm and you snapped your laptop shut. Your fingers itched to send yet another complaint about this whole ordeal Natasha’s way, but you stopped yourself. She had already heard plenty about Barnes at this point, plus she always gave you a weird look every time you came stomping into the apartment, grumbling about something else he had done.

You hated her weird looks, all raised eyebrows and stiff lips.

With your backpack heaved onto the table and your things slowly funneling in, you figured a nap was the best reward for sitting in the library for an unnecessary twenty-five minutes. Your last prickle of irritation was stifled at the prospect of a warm bed as you stood, only to find that irritation had returned to you tenfold. In the form of Bucky Barnes.

“You going somewhere?” he seemed to taunt, his bag slung casually over one shoulder.

Your jaw ticked. “Home.”

His mouth turned up at one side, an expression you had learned meant he found you amusing. He never seemed to outright laugh at your annoyance, but apparently, it was hard to tamp down all of the joy he got out of it. Bucky took two long strides to meet the table you were attempting to abandon.

“But I still got about—” he checked his watch “—thirty-three minutes? And an arsenal of questions about amino acids. Help a guy out.”

“And I still got—” you checked the nonexistent watch on your wrist “—no patience for this today. You’re over twenty minutes late, Barnes. Use that watch to set an alarm on Wednesday and I’ll tell you everything you’ll inevitably forget about amino acids then.”

He groaned, rounding the table to set firm hands on your shoulders as he hovered behind you. “Sit. I’ll buy you a coffee and I promise I won’t be late on Wednesday, okay? I was dealing with something before this and lost track of time.”

“Were you dealing with another sorority girl in your bed? Who was it last week? Amber? No, Michelle?”

“It’s a Monday, y/n. Cut me some slack.”

“You came to me on a Wednesday with a hangover,” you deadpanned.

Bucky grimaced, the expression visible to you as he managed to guide you back into your chair. “Oat milk, right? A double?”

You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as he tossed his bag by your feet and jogged over to the coffee cart just outside the library. He fumbled with his wallet when he went to pay, and you watched him point to the carton of oat milk the barista had yet to reach for. His greek letters were printed on the gray hoodie he had haphazardly thrown over his shoulders, and you held the reprimand on your tongue when you saw the matching sweatpants he donned.

The last time he had shown up in his pajamas—late—you’d had some choice words for him. Bucky turned around with your coffee then, poking the straw through the lid and sending you a sheepish smile through the window.

He was lucky you accepted bribes.

“Please,” the boy across from you continued to beg, a pen held loosely between pliant fingers. “Just ask her, that’s all I want. You can even come too.”

“Oh, wow, the great frat president letting me come to his stupid toga party? How could I ever thank you enough?”

It was Wednesday now, and Bucky was surprisingly on time to the tutoring session. You’d gotten through about half of the last bio lecture before he started asking you ridiculous questions that had nothing to do with the content. Today, he was dead set on getting your lab partner from chemistry to go to his party this weekend.

“Okay, yeah, you could come to whatever party you want, you know? I put you on the list—but this one will be even better if you’d just do this one thing for me.”

You finally tore your eyes from your laptop, glancing lazily at him. “And what would make this one so—wait, what list?”

He waved you off. “The one at the door. Did it like… the second week we started this? Anyways, Wanda?”

You let this new information settle and tried to ignore whatever implications came with being on some frat list thanks to Bucky. He had never explicitly invited you to any of his parties over the past few months and you had never asked to come. Apparently, you could have shown up whenever you wanted to and had a grand old time.

Not that that sounded the least bit grand.

Bucky was looking at you still, all pleading features and a soft, infuriating smile on his lips. When he wasn’t talking to random girls in the library or taking annoying phone calls in the middle of your sessions, he was sort of endearing. In a terrible, awful sense.

You groaned, throwing yourself back against your chair in begrudging defeat. “I don’t even talk to her outside of chem. Don’t you think it’d be a little weird to invite her to a party that I’m not even going to?”

“So come,” he answered simply, as if that was in the realm of possibilities.

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Sure, I’ll come to your party, Barnes.”

“Great,” he grinned. “Vision’s gonna be so hyped.”

You watched as he pulled his phone from his pocket and kept your lie to yourself. He wouldn’t notice that you didn’t show up on Friday, and likely wouldn’t even bring it up the following Monday. He always had such vibrant, headache-inducing stories that you were sure your absence would be nothing more than a fleeting footnote.

“You have a toga, right?” he mumbled, face still screwed up in concentration as he continued his text.

“Isn’t it just a sheet all twisted up?” you asked, shutting your computer. Tutoring was obviously over.

Bucky pocketed his phone again, brows raised in amusement. “Depends on your motives for the night.”

“And my motives wouldn’t be to… wear a toga?”

He chuckled and huffed out your name, resting an arm along the back of the chair to his right—your chair. “Other motives. Like if you’re trying to get someone’s attention.”

You blinked at the warmth along your back. “Oh, of course. Then I would twist up a pillowcase instead, right?”

“Something like that.”

He smelled like coconut. Like a day at the beach but afterwards, when the sunscreen still lingered in the air but fresh clothes covered skin that had been warmed by the sun. You could usually ignore whatever expensive combination he had on his skin, but when he got close like this it was almost impossible.

Part of you always wanted to chuck his arm away when he leaned over you, but another part of you liked that he kept it there. It was a strange part of you, the same one that relished the looks you got from sorority girls in the library and harbored a sense of pride each time he made a blatant attempt to touch you.

You had spent fleeting moments analyzing these emotions and chalked them up to some internalized desire for validation. Nothing else. Bucky was a hot guy and everyone knew that, so having his attention—in any capacity—felt nice. Sometimes. Meaning right now it was nice that he was looking at you with his arm practically glued to your back, but next week when he showed up late with a hangover and tried to steal the jacket off your body it would be not so nice.

The duality of man.

It helped your partial insanity that Bucky would never actually be interested in you. You weren’t in a sorority or interested to his parent’s money, and, worst of all, you didn’t know how to maneuver a sheet into a toga. When he put his arm around you or moved your hair from your eyes as you leaned over a book, it was probably out of habit. It felt nice, but you knew reality. This was a passing phase, and by the summer you wouldn’t even speak to him anymore.

“I’ll text you more info about everything,” Bucky called, pulling you from your thoughts. “You can come early and I’ll help you with that pillowcase.”

You froze, the book you were shoving into your bag pausing in your hands. “Uh, maybe.”

“No, seriously, it’d be better if you came early. I was kidding about the pillowcase but if you come on time it’ll be too crazy for me to show you around.”

“You don’t have to show me around, Bucky. I’ve been to a house party before.”

“Y/n, are you not coming to this thing?” Bucky accused, swiping the book from your hands and softly tossing it on the table. It still made a loud thud that had a few bitter looks thrown your way.

“Dude!” you whispered, meeting each mean gaze with your apologetic one. “Why does it matter if I come? You just wanted Wanda anyway.”

He knocked your hand away when you went to reach for the book again, encircling your wrist with his fingers. “You just lied to me. Straight to my face. You said you’d come and now you gotta.”

You gave his fingers an experimental tug, but he was unrelenting in his soft grip. You glared at him through your lashes, meeting his uncharacteristically stern gaze that contrasted the humor on his lips.

“You ever hear of sarcasm?” you whispered with a half-hearted bite.

“Unfortunately, that’s about all I hear outta you,” he smirked back.

You rolled your eyes, finally yanking hard enough to free yourself from him. “Then you should have known I wasn’t going to come. No matter what ‘list’ you put me on.”

“What else could you possibly have going on on a Friday night?”

Ouch. You felt your brows furrow even though you didn’t will them to, and even worse, you felt a rash defensiveness lodge itself in your throat. You hated the heat that now prickled along the skin of your neck, and you hated even more how it extinguished all of the good warmth you had felt from him earlier.

This was humiliation, surely—the kind that only came from feeling small.

“You don’t have to be a dick,” you seethed, snapping up the remainder of your belongings. “Just because I don’t want to go to your stupid frat doesn't mean I have nothing to do. I don’t spend all of my time hoping to get invited to ridiculous parties.”

Bucky shifted up in his seat, eyes blown just a fraction wider. “Whoa, I didn’t mean—hey, stop a sec, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Whatever, Bucky,” you droned, as a new temperature seeped into the skin of your palms and made them clammy. Any semblance of delusion you’d fallen into earlier was long gone now, but you knew to expect that. He wasn’t interested in you and you weren’t interested in him. But embarrassment wasn’t a good feeling, regardless of a multitude of reality checks.

Bucky got up when you did, his clothes looking creased and lived in. “We still have time in our session,” he defended, arm jutting out to the table. “C’mon, I didn’t mean you don’t have friends.”

Your glare sharpened. “Great, another insinuation.”

Bucky sputtered out incoherent words as you continued your trek outside, resorting to grabbing your wrist again, this time with more urgency. You felt the heat in you simmer down to a dull throb as he made contact, mostly out of respect for your future self. If you made this a huge deal it would only embarrass you more.

“Look, it doesn’t even matter, okay?” you huffed, but he just tugged you forward. It was then that you realized you were in the doorway of the library, effectively blocking it off from anyone trying to leave. Bucky pulled you close enough to his chest that you weren’t in the way anymore. His cologne was back with a vengeance, your nose just inches from his collar.

You took a steadying breath, blinking away the remnants of shame. “It doesn’t matter, I overreacted.”

He clicked his tongue. “I’m still apologizing. I didn’t mean any of that stuff you were talking about.”

Of course he did. You were sure he thought it all the time. He just didn’t mean to say it out loud.

“It’s fine,” you rushed. “I have to go, anyway. Office hours.”

“Okay,” he nodded, soft and low, like he just remembered he was in a library. “You’ll still come this weekend, right? Even if Wanda can’t?”

“You have some kind of girl quota you need to meet?” you pressed.

Bucky smiled, still so close to you that you could feel the small breath that accompanied the expression. “And she’s back.”

You left without promising anything, and Bucky left feeling like you had.

Sometime between Wednesday and Friday, your detestment for frat parties had snowballed into determination. You were going to go and you were going to look like you were having so much fun it was ridiculous. Then, on Monday, when Bucky would usually poke and prod about what you’d gotten up to over the past few days, you were going to pretend that it was nothing for you. That you did that every weekend.

Of course, you didn’t. Your weekends typically consisted of calm nights with friends or dinners near campus. You’d been to a party before, sure, but you didn’t exactly frequent those kinds of scenes.

Bucky had continued to make it clear that you were invited. He had texted you a few times, prompting you to come and thanking you for getting Wanda to agree. The messages looked strange under the plethora of biology related questions, but that just spurred you further into action. You weren’t just a tutor with no social life, and Bucky was going to see that tonight. You couldn’t remember doing something out of pure spite before, but you figured having fun to prove a point wasn’t the worst thing.

Wanda pulled you out of your thoughts as the Uber rounded the last dark corner and revealed an overcrowded house with too many lights on. She rambled on about some guy she couldn’t wait to see and confirmed that she would likely be spending the night. You expected as much; it hadn’t taken much convincing to get her to come. If this night resulted in anything good it was apparently the blossoming relationship between your new friend and a man you’d never met.

Wanda continued to chat as she yanked you out of the car and past the yard littered with sparse grass. The music was loud already—the type of loud that you needed to be at least a little drunk to enjoy. And that was the plan.

“Okay, if I start dancing on a table you pull me down. And if you start dancing on a table I support you, right?” Wanda giggled, her voice now raised as you walked past the threshold of the house.

“Exactly,” you yelled back. A guy nodded to you as he leaned against the front door, his eyes glancing up from his phone and then returning. It seemed Bucky’s ‘list’ was a page on some guy’s notes app. How luxurious. “Let’s drink.”

The next hour was a blur. You tried your hardest to get as drunk as possible and Wanda tried her hardest to find the British man she was enamored with. You hadn’t seen Bucky, but you figured he wasn’t looking for you too hard since you hadn’t responded to any of his texts. Not out of anger, but because you didn’t know what to say. Somehow, with alcohol warming your blood and music vibrating your skin, none of that mattered anymore.

You: Your house is soooo dirty

Your phone jostled in your grip, people bumping into you from every side. When he didn’t answer in the thirty seconds you spent staring at the screen, you locked it and continued on with your mission.

After a few too many shots of hard liquor, you switched to beer. Gross, but decidedly less likely to make you pass out on the staircase of this house. Because you weren’t lying in your text—it was slightly disgusting. You figured you should clarify that with Bucky. You reached for your phone once again, knocking your head against the wall in the process and giggling to yourself. You had no idea where Wanda went.

The device was snatched from your hands just as quickly as the screen had lit up your face.

“You ever answer this thing?” an accusing voice called out. “Or do you just insult people and put it on do not disturb?”

The look on Bucky’s face would have made you roll your eyes in any other circumstance. Right now, however, it had a startled laugh bursting past your lips. You clutched at your stomach as the laugh grew and you found yourself tipping forward until your forehead met his chest. You felt delirious, almost silly. A hand came around to rest on the back of your neck.

“Alright, alright.” Bucky’s words rumbled against your face. “I get it, this is hilarious.”

“Your… your face,” you breathed out, catching your breath enough to part from him. “It was all—” you mimicked the straight line of his eyebrows, voice raising in a mocking tone. “—You don’t ever answer your phone. You’re so boring, y/n, answer your phone.”

“I didn’t call you boring. Hey—hey,” Bucky stressed, reaching for you as you leaned too far to the side, a smile still lingering on your face. “Jesus, y/n, how much did you have to drink?”

You went to mock him again, but his fingers on your jaw stopped you. He tilted your head up and to the left, and although he was much more composed than you were, you could still smell the alcohol on his breath. You scrunched up your nose as he continued his inspection.

“Why’re you being so uptight?” you slurred, trying and failing to push away from him. “I thought you were all like, ‘I’m Bucky and I party and get drunk and have sex with girls.’”

Bucky pulled you forward as you laughed at your impression of him, his shaking head making you blink away a bout of dizziness. You toppled over a set of stairs as he threaded his fingers through yours, and then you stumbled through a doorway and onto carpeted floors. Being pressed into an uncomfortable chair was the most jarring action, the world still spinning as you sat.

“You’re even more mean when you're drunk,” you heard Bucky mumble. You couldn’t quite catch him as he moved around whatever room you were in. “And I don’t talk like that.”

You let out a careless sigh and leaned back. “You soooo talk like that.”

Something cold pressed to your hand, followed by another touch to the back of your neck. You gazed down at the water bottle being guided up to your lips and couldn’t find it in you to fight against it, despite the small spark of defiance on the tip of your tongue. After about four large swallows, Bucky was satisfied.

He asked again how much you’d had to drink.

You answered that you didn’t know—that it didn’t matter because he wasn’t your dad and you were having fun like you always did. He bit the inside of his cheek and didn’t say anything for the next few moments.

And then, “Thought you weren’t gonna come tonight.”

You hummed, rolling your head against the chair to look up at his standing form. “Of course I was going to come. I love parties. Love drinking alcohol.”

His expression twisted into something you couldn’t recognize. “God, you’re so drunk.”

“M’not even that drunk!”

“You’re willingly in my room right now. You’re plastered.”

“Maybe I want to be in your room.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

You chuckled breathily, closing your eyes so you wouldn’t have to see the pretty flush of Bucky’s face. “You think you know everything, don’t you? Don’t know much about me though. Or biology.”

Bucky kneeled down to the height of the chair. “And what do I not know about you?”

“So much.”

“How much?”

You bit into your lip and cracked an eye open, catching the amusement that had slipped past the strange mask of his emotions. With blissful ignorance, you heaved yourself forward on the chair, your nose a few inches from Bucky’s. His eyes didn’t waver from yours as you swayed.

“You don’t know that I’m the most interesting person on Earth,” you boasted, fingers gripping the upholstery of your seat.

“That right?” Bucky probed, his voice a melodic hum.

“Yup, I’m always really busy and even though you think I’m some boring biology tutor I’m actually super cool and, like, go to raves and stuff.”

His brow twitched but his mouth stayed soft. “I’ve never said you were boring. And I don’t think you’ve ever been to a rave.”

You groaned loudly and flopped against the backrest of the chair. “See! I’m telling you I do all this cool stuff and I’m so drunk my fingers are buzzing and you still don’t believe me.”

You crossed your arms with a huff, a small pout forming on your lips. In any other context, this behavior would probably embarrass you to no end. In the dim light of Bucky’s room where you felt the feeling leave your fingers and the care leave your mind, you were just disgruntled, not embarrassed. If you remembered this tomorrow the latter would surely catch up to you.

Bucky stared at you from his spot on the ground, his gaze a bit foggy and unfocused. He was clearly intoxicated, as you deduced earlier, and it made him look more wild. Mused hair and pink cheeks, he looked like he’d been having plenty of fun before he found you. It was distracting. He was distracting you from proving that you were having a blast.

“What?” you snapped, the tone a testament to the drunken fit you were throwing.

“You’re so fucking pretty.”

He must be really, really drunk. Despite your clouded mind, you knew that, but the words affected you just the same. Your lips parted as a new lightness both lit up and compressed your chest, and Bucky watched the movement.

“Yeah,” you scoffed, but it was hardly a scoff. “Sure, Bucky. How much did you have to drink—”

“I’m not lying. I’ve thought about you in my room for weeks and now you’re here and you’re so pretty. Even when you’re yelling at me.”

“You’ve… thought about me in your room?”

Bucky shuffled forward and you subconsciously parted your legs to allow the space for him. “I think about you everywhere.”

This was crazy. It was certifiably insane. A voice in the back of your head—Natasha’s voice, it sounded like—was screaming at you to stop and think about the situation at hand. He was drunk, you were even more drunk, and he was far too close to you. He had ushered you in here with good intentions and had sobered you up a fraction, but things had taken a turn and this was a sensitive situation. The kind of sensitive that altered your reality and his and probably a bunch of other people’s you’d never met.

Or it could be nothing and you were over exaggerating.

But then Bucky’s hand was warming your thigh. You’d felt the press of it on your back and your shoulder and your head before, but it had never been on your thigh. It felt heavy there, hot. His other hand moved to touch your face and he propped himself up on one knee. His thumb brushed your cheek. Words tumbled from your mouth before you registered that you were speaking.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Why would you ask that? Who asks Bucky Barnes if he’s going to kiss them?

“Would you let me?” he responds.

“Yes.”

He didn’t waste any time, his mouth hot against yours. He tasted like mint and vodka and his lips moved so slowly it ached. You had expected a fervor behind his lips, but instead you got a build up, an orchestra reaching its crescendo. He was kissing you like you were important, like this wasn’t some random hookup in his bedroom at 1 o’clock in the morning, and you had to catch your breath when he parted from you.

But he moved back in so quickly after your brief respite, and you were eager to give him more. This was crazy, insane. This was the best kiss you’d ever have and also the worst. This was months of staring at his stupid lips when he tried explaining concepts back to you, but this was also weeks of feeling small in his presence. Bucky slid his hand back to press against your hair and you didn’t feel small anymore.

A loud thud from the hallway interrupted the silence you’d created, and Bucky pulled back, keeping his hands on you as he craned his neck around to stare at the door. He waited a beat, and then two, and then he turned back to you. The moment was gone, but he was still touching you. You weren’t sure what you wanted—if you wanted him to kiss you again or run out the door—but when he slid his hands from your body and rubbed them down his jeans, it became clear that was not what you wanted.

A knot formed in your stomach when he met your gaze again, and you tried blinking the feeling away. It didn’t work.

“Um,” Bucky began, his voice sounding more clear, his tone not holding the weight it had.

Your plan had backfired. Severely. This was a mess and you needed to save yourself before you ended this night even more humiliated.

You were still drunk. Pretend you were still plastered.

You giggled airily, the sound burning your throat. “That was loud.”

Bucky blinked at you in what you assumed was disbelief. “Probably just someone trying to find the bathroom,” he clarified.

You shrugged, nudging him back with your knee as you stood from the chair. “I’m bored now.” You took fast steps to the door, your words foreign to you. “Thanks for the water,” you all but gritted out.

You expected him to get up. Not to run after you or proclaim his love or even say anything. But you expected him to get up.

He didn’t, and you couldn’t understand how the knot in your stomach had moved to your throat. Or how it made tears spring to your eyes when your feet hit the sidewalk outside. Your Uber came and you couldn’t understand how you felt hot and cold at the same time. How it was freezing outside but you were sweating.

You couldn’t understand why you were crying over a boy that so often infuriated you, or why he kissed you in his bedroom. The reasonable side of you sent gentle reminders that he was in a frat and kissing people is just what he did. All the time. But the unreasonable side of you won out tonight, and it was telling you that this felt different.

That you should be different, somehow.

Bucky: You’re here???

Bucky: Where are you?

Bucky: Y/n answer your damn phone

Bucky: This place is fucking packed tonight I thought you weren’t coming

You stared at the text messages you hadn’t read last night, the bright light of your phone burning into your retinas. You had a brutal hangover, and the memory of the disaster in Bucky’s room felt like an even bigger one.

You’d gone through a myriad of emotions the night before, tossing around excuses and speeches in your head until you were so exhausted you let the alcohol in your system lull you to sleep. With all of that delirious thinking, you’d landed on blacking out. You were going to tell Bucky you blacked out last night and couldn’t remember a thing. He obviously wouldn’t care and would probably appreciate it.

Saturday was slow-moving. Reruns of television shows and bags of popcorn and overthinking. Natasha was at her parent’s house in the city, so you had no one to bounce your racing thoughts off of. You certainly weren’t going to text her about it.

When the evening finally rolled around and your attempts at distracting yourself with mind-numbing movies failed, you checked your email. You always tried not to on the weekends, but doing anything else sounded much less appealing.

Unfortunately, you didn’t get past the first one.

From: University Peer Assistance Program

Dear Y/n Y/l/n,

This is an automated message from the campus peer assistance program. We thank you for your continued devotion to the betterment of students at this school. At this time, your tutoring placement with James Barnes has ended. We will search for a new placement to fill your current hours.

Thank you,

University Peer Assistance

You blinked at the email, then blinked again. The breath left your chest and the muscles on your face twitched, but you were otherwise frozen.

This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? To be free from the haughty frat boy that didn’t even listen to you when you tried to help him raise his grades. You wanted someone nice, someone that had the same goals as you and appreciated the color-coded notes you took for them. Bucky only tried to get a rise out of you. He sat too close and made fun of you and put you on lists you didn’t ask to be on.

But he had kissed you. He had kissed you and then tutor-dumped you.

You knew you weren’t his type, but were you really that bad? Was the kiss so terrible?

Every inferiority complex you had developed exploded. You over-analyzed things that had already happened, things you had said. Not just at the party, but in the library, the coffee shops, the lecture halls.

Was he really willing to risk his position in the frat just to avoid you?

The strangle tickle of tears itched to be released from your eyes again, but you pressed it down. No, this wasn’t on you. He had kissed you. He had dragged you into his room and stumbled on pretty words. If he didn’t want you to tutor him anymore because of his stupid mistake, fine.

His mistake.

That word felt wrong.

You tossed your phone on the couch with vigor. The clock above the television read out 10 pm, but that meant little to you as you slid on your shoes at the front door. You were wearing sweatpants and a jacket that was far too big on you, sadness and frustration and raw confusion propelling you down your apartment stairs.

Ice cream would fix this.

The only place open at this time was the gas station at the edge of campus. It wasn’t university affiliated and was usually overrun with belligerent greek life trying to buy alcohol, but the decision-making part of your brain was currently shut off.

Ice cream, anger, probably watching tiktoks until your eyes were too heavy to keep open—those were the only things rattling in your head.

You yanked open the gas station door after your short walk, the glass smudged and fogged from the cold night. The fluorescent lights aggravated the headache you’d been sporting all day and the floor made sticking noises with each step you took. To add insult to injury, there were only three cartons of ice cream left, and they weren’t even the good flavors. Grabbing the least offensive one, you made your way to the small line of people by the register.

“Nice outfit.”

Too enthralled by the disappointing ingredient list on the side of your ice cream, you had missed the tall man now looming at your shoulder. You whipped your head around with a start, taking a step back, smelling menthol and asphalt and nothing good.

“Thanks,” you quietly replied.

He waited until you turned back around to continue. “You go to school over here?”

You kept your gaze forward. “Um, yeah.”

“Nice. I graduated a few years back. Marketing.”

“Cool,” you replied. What had compelled you to leave your phone on the couch? This night sucked.

You found reprieve in the line moving, the employee calling you over to check out. As soon as you paid—a few dollar bills funneled out of your pocket with shaky hands—you booked it. Your ice cream burned in your palm but you didn’t care, feet carrying you out the door and into the dimly lit parking lot. You fisted your keys in your fingers; pointless, you knew, but a small comfort.

The man’s voice returned with the chime of the bell over the gas station door. “Wait! Wait, I’m Beck. I own a business nearby.”

You should have kept walking, but one of your fatal flaws was, apparently, people pleasing. You turned to him. He smiled at you but it made your stomach twist.

“Oh, nice,” you responded, rocking back on your heels.

“We should connect. Maybe go for coffee or something?” He took a step forward. You fought the urge to take one back. His beard was unkempt and he held a six pack in his white-knuckled grip.

“Um, I don’t know. I’m pretty busy with finals coming up. Plus, I’m not really in the business field.”

“Not for business then,” he smiled again, teeth dull in the streetlight.

Just agree. If you agreed you could block him soon after and everything would be fine.

You took too long to answer. He took the final step forward to arrive in your space and wrapped his fingers around your bicep. “C’mon, I’m not asking you to marry me or anything.”

Frozen by fear, you let out a weak laugh. The pint in your hand was sticking to your skin now in a way that would be painful when you tried to let go of it later. Your breath rattled in your chest when you laughed again.

“Sure, okay.” But he didn’t let go of your arm, instead sliding it down to the bone of your wrist.

“What about now?” he posed. “You don’t look too busy. I can make you something at my place.”

He was at least ten years older than you. You attempted to pull yourself from his grasp to no avail. Maybe reasoning would work.

“My roommate's waiting for me,” you lied. “Could you let go? I sprained my wrist at the gym last week,” you lied again.

He refused with a shake of his head. You took a panicked glance inside the gas station to your right. No one was looking.

“Please let go of me.”

The call of your name from the other side of the parking lot initially sent more unbearable fear down your spine. But then the owner of that voice registered in your brain, and although it had been the cause of your recent internal strife, you couldn't be more grateful to hear it.

He said your name again, closer now and questioning. Bucky jogged up to the pair of you, saw your wrist and the man holding it hostage, and looked back up at you with confused, wild eyes.

“You know this guy?” he asked, jutting his thumb out at Beck.

“No,” you whispered. The word was short but the syllable still trembled.

Bucky didn’t look confused anymore. He looked pissed. “Wanna take your fucking hands off her?”

Beck was tall, but Bucky was taller. And angry. Beck released your wrist and raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Whoa, man, no need for the theatrics. I’m guessing you’re here to stock up for a party? I used to be in Sigma Nu.”

When Bucky’s silent glare failed to dampen, Beck continued with, “We were just planning a night at my place, right?”

His nod in your direction made your breath catch. Bucky took his piercing gaze off of Beck and softened it as it fell on you. You wanted to respond, but words were gone. They were impossible. Your ice cream was melting.

“Yeah, I think we’re done here,” Bucky scoffed, placing his arm around your shoulder. He guided you past the wall of a man, making sure to drive his shoulder into his chest as he went. Beck went to say more, to protest or whine, but Bucky shot him such a scathing look it almost made you wither.

The smell of coconut and spices and a hint of whisky met your nose, and it was familiar. It was safe. You fumbled with the keys in your hands as your feet guided you wherever Bucky was going, and then you fumbled even more, soft jingling disrupting the softness of footfall. God, why wouldn’t you stop shaking?

A hand fell atop yours, crunching the keys to a halt. You stared down at them, unsteady breath hitting the tanned fingers that served as your current anchor.

“Look at me, y/n.”

You couldn’t. You couldn’t do anything.

“Sweetheart, eyes up. All you gotta do.” Bucky’s voice was as soft as it was last night. That was the only reason you were able to follow his request. “There she is,” he hummed.

He removed his arm from your shoulders and shifted in front of you, placing his hand on your cheek. You ignored that it felt the same as it had last night. You ignored that you wanted it to feel the same for him, too.

“You okay?” he asked, tilting his neck down to better see your face. His thumb brushed under your eye. “He hurt you?”

You shook your head, whispering no, whispering that you were fine.

Bucky nodded to himself, eyes tracking down to your toes and then back up again. He must have mistaken your shaking for coldness because the next thing he did was guide you into the car behind him. You didn’t know it was his.

He blasted the heat the second he got in. He had shuffled you into your seat with his hands before that, smoothed your hair down and closed the door after you were settled and not shaking as hard. The heat dried out your eyes. It distracted you enough to let words form.

“Thank you,” you said. “He wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t bring my phone with me. I should’ve.”

“Of course.”

There was a beat of silence. The relief you had felt earlier had been muddled down to an awkward pit in your stomach, and you weren’t sure if Bucky felt it too or if he was still riding a testosterone-fueled adrenaline high.

You wanted to go home now; this was uncomfortable and you had felt Bucky’s lips on yours less than twenty-four hours ago with no closure. He obviously didn’t want to be around you. This was probably a responsibility thing for him.

“I can… I can walk home now. The guy left. I’m just a quarter mile away and you probably have to stock up or whatever.”

He looked at you with a pinched expression. “I’m not letting you walk home after that. You kiddin’ me?”

“I’ll be fine, really. I walk over here all the time.”

“You get harassed all the time too?”

“No…”

“Exactly. So you’re not walking home.”

“Bucky—”

“Look I’m not gonna kiss you again, alright? So you don’t have to turn down a ride because of that.”

Your ice cream was soup at this point. You let it roll into your lap as you clamped your mouth shut just to open it again. Bucky ran a rough hand through his hair before dropping it on the steering wheel, clutching at it with no place to go.

“I’m not following,” you finally relented.

A loud sigh released from his nose. “You don’t have to worry about me kissing you again. I just want to make sure you get home safe and then I’ll leave you alone.”

“Worry about—you’re the one trying to avoid me,” you snapped, frozen fingers pointing to your chest. “You tutor-dumped me.”

“Tutor-dumped? How do you…” he trailed off.

“I get an email when you make a change request, Bucky.”

He stared at you for a moment, lips parted and unmoving. He clenched his jaw a moment later, a red tint adorning his cheeks.

“Well, you—you—look, I know you don’t like me, y/n. You’ve made that clear,” he stuttered, words getting louder as he moved his hands around with each one. “But I like you. I like when you get mad at me and when you yell at me for not listening and when you get all embarrassed when I play with your hair. And I’ve been trying to get you to come to one of my parties since we started this whole thing, but every time I talk about them you seem to like me even less.

“If I had known insulting you would get your attention, I woulda done that week one,” he exasperated. You sat up in your seat but he continued. “I didn’t mean any of that shit you thought I did. You’re not boring. And I didn’t mean to kiss you, but you looked—well, I already told you.”

“So you don’t want me to be your tutor anymore because you like me?” You spoke slowly, each word careful.

“No,” he sighed, frustrated. “I can’t be around you because I kissed you and you didn’t care. Because I’ll want to kiss you all the time and you didn’t even wanna kiss me once. I know we were drunk, I get that, but I’ve wanted that for a long time and I need to move on. It’s nothing against your… tutoring skills. If that’s what you’re worried about”

“But you talk about hooking up with other girls all the time, Bucky. To me.”

“You ever hear of lying?”

“Why would you—”

“You really gonna make me live out all of my failures with you?”

You’d read so many things wrong. Taken so many things the wrong way. You figured the email earlier was the final nail in the coffin, but this was something else entirely. This was Bucky, sitting next to you in his car looking distressed and frazzled with his hair six different directions, telling you that he’s been trying to get your attention since he met you. That you weren’t small or insignificant or boring.

It was probably a terrible idea to follow through with your next thought. You’d probably get hurt in the long run. But you did it anyway.

“I wanted you to kiss me.” Bucky’s head whipped towards you. You bit the inside of your cheek and said, “I want you to kiss me all the time.”

He whispered your name. It sounded like the air had left every corner of his body. But he didn’t move, and you needed to rectify that.

“You’re infuriating,” you began. Bucky cringed, but you needed to explain as he had. “You’re like the antithesis of everything I want out of college. You don’t care about classes. You’re always late. You talk too loud in the library.”

You took a deep breath, fiddling with the loose thread of your pants. You couldn’t make eye contact with anything but the ground.

“But then you know my coffee order when I’ve never told it to you. You save me from losers in parking lots and make sure I’m not drunk out of my mind at your obscene party. You make me feel… you make me feel stupid sometimes. And I thought it was because you’re everything I’m not, but I really think it’s because you’re everything I told myself I should stay away from. But I don’t want to.

“I wanted you to kiss me at that party and I want you to kiss me now.”

“Then get over here. I’m not kissing you over some bullshit center console.”

You twisted to follow his directions, gasping as his hands clasped around your waist to tug you into his lap. It wasn’t seamless—there was laughing and your head briefly connected with the roof of the car—but Bucky’s touch was everywhere, soothing the uncertainty and fear and slight headache.

His forehead connected with yours when you felt secure in his arms. His fingers slid down from your waist over the material of your sweatpants and when he spoke next you felt the words on your own lips.

“You’re wearing sweatpants. You get so mad when I wear sweatpants.”

You laughed. “I get mad because it usually means you just rolled out of bed, and you’re usually. late.”

“I got a secret,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours. “I’m never late. And I only wear those sweatpants around you. You get cute when you’re pissed at me.”

“Well, I’m about to be really cute—”

He kissed you. You’d have plenty of time to argue later.

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