Tom Hiddleston

5 Times You Are Not Dating Bucky Barnes (and the one time you are) | Bucky Barnes x Reader | One shot - 2.6k words |

You're sick of saying it, Bucky is not your boyfriend, you are not dating you're just friends. Until...

Warnings: 18+ for some canon typical violence and for Sam and Joaquin being pains in the arse (affectionate). Friends to lovers vibes, idiots in love, dating but not dating.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics & @saradika-graphics

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

1

Bucky Barnes is not your boyfriend.

At least once a day these words come out of your mouth in some form and it's becoming so frequent now that you're considering just recording yourself and playing it back on your phone.

Colleagues, partners in the field, friends.

Not a couple.

Not dating.

"Did you hear that, Wilson? She said —"

"Yeah, yeah, sure."

Sam rolled his eyes at Bucky, sighing dramatically in a way that only Sam is really allowed to get away with. Bucky hadn't taken his eyes from your laptop screen or the secure file you were scrolling through.

"Look awful close though."

You looked up this time, the top of your head brushing Bucky's cheek, his breath was warm against your own and the contrast between his exhale and the cold glass of the table gave you goosebumps.

"We're reviewing the data Joaquin sent us, what do you want us to do?" You snapped, scrolling to the next page of mind numbingly boring KPIs and MIs. Just your luck to get the management files and nothing juicy.

"Perhaps you could use the projector?" Sam clicked a button on the table and the details on your screen lit up the plain, white wall of the conference room.

Embarrassed heat flared up your spine and you shivered.

"Not very secure though, is it, Captain?" Bucky picked up the remote and switched the projector off, his eyes on the laptop screen.

The plastic of your chair squeaked as he tightened his hold on it, and the door slammed shut behind Sam.

2

You followed your nose from the cool darkness of the operations room to the open living area. Tedious as it was to be stationed in the middle of nowhere for recon, you couldn't fault the accommodation, it was almost like being on holiday, apart from the gruelling shifts staring at monitors every day.

Somewhere further along the corridor the sound of good-natured arguing grew louder, Bucky's voice rising above the others and warning them not to disturb you. There was a brief pause before you heard Sam and Joaquin start laughing and Bucky's heavy sigh.

"Morning," you gave a small sleepy smile to the assembled team. Joaquin smiled back, raising his coffee cup in greeting. Sam grinned and you knew instantly that there was something going on. "What now?" You sighed, sending both men in to fits of laughter.

Bucky handed you a cup of tea and bowl of yogurt and granola, a handful of blueberries and raspberries on top.

"Thanks, I'm starving." You bumped his hip as you wandered past to join your teammates at the kitchen island and earned yourself a rare smile.

"What've you got there?" Sam asked, peering into your bowl.

"Usual," you mumbled, sipping your tea. Perfect.

"Uh huh, the usual." He looked up at Bucky, whose face was slowly turning the same colour as the raspberries.

"Can I have some yoghurt, Bucky?" Joaquin asked, innocently.

"Nope." Bucky said, watching you take the first bite and allowing the corner of his mouth to turn up in a smile when yours did.

"Oh, did we run out?"

"Nope."

Bucky put the almost full pot back into the fridge, fixed his coffee and sat down too, shuffling his stool a little closer to you. His hair was still a little damp and you could smell the familiar scent of his shampoo, his bare arm bumping against yours as he took a sip of coffee.

Sam and Joaquin emptied out the last of their coffees into the sink and slunk away, whispering and laughing conspiratorially about "special treatment for girlfriends."

Bucky was, as usual, ignoring them and flipping through a week old newspaper and sipping his coffee. He caught you watching and gave you a mock glare, nothing like the hard stare he'd given Sam and Joaquín earlier.

Then he turned the pages slightly so you could see and you let your head rest on his shoulder, still sipping your tea.

3

"I'm sorry, okay, please stop giving me the cold shoulder." Sam followed after you as you picked your way back to the jet, trying to catch up so you could walk together.

"Absolutely not, I want to be angry for at least two more hours." You grouched, squeezing water from your tactical gear.

"C'mon, it's a little funny," Joaquin laughed, taking up space on your other side.

"Fuck off, Torres, if you had fish swimming in your tac suit you'd be mad too. "

Bucky met you at the cargo door, towel in hand and glaring at your team mates.

"Hell happened to you lot? And why are there fish in your suit?" He scanned you all quickly for serious damage, but it was just your ego that was bruised really.

"Someone, told me it was totally safe to cross this rickety fucking bridge back there," you scowled again.

It really wasn't Sam's fault, it looked perfectly safe or you wouldn't have started to cross, but it was clearly rigged to fall and that's exactly what you'd done, straight into the stagnant water below.

In their gear Sam and Joaquin had been fine. You, on the other hand, had been soaked from head to toe.

"Let's get you in something clean and dry," Bucky gently ushered you into the cool darkness of the jet, soothing your embarrassment with his own stories and wiping mud from the back of your neck as if it was an everyday occurrence.

"I don't think there's anything left in my locker after we got caught in that storm a few weeks back." Embarrassment made your skin itchy and your blood cold. You had spare underwear, maybe, at best.

"Don't worry," Bucky put his back to the door of the small bathroom while you stripped off your dirty clothes inside, "I've got something."

When you reappeared fifteen minutes later, cleaner, dryer, it was in a pair of Bucky's spare sweat pants and the black t-shirt he'd been wearing.

Joaquin raised his eyes but made the decision not to comment and incur your wrath any further.

Sam, on the other hand, chose to tease Bucky instead, their arguing bouncing around the jet while you tried to get comfy on the thin flight seats.

"Got your territory all marked then, Barnes?" He laughed, eyes darting between the two of you.

"Don't know what you're on about, Wilson." Bucky snapped back.

"She's in your clothes, couldn't find any spares? Nothing of mine of Joaquin's back there? You're getting more possessive." Sam shot you a look, "you need to tell him to fuck off."

"I'm good, Sam, thanks for your concern."

"Ahh so you are —"

"We're not dating!" You shouted in unison.

Which only made Sam and Joaquín laugh harder.

It was okay though, you were safe again now and, snuggling deeper into the body warmth of Bucky's t-shirt and definitely a lot less angry than you had been, you really felt safe too. How could you feel any other kind of way, when you could smell his body wash, when he had dried your face so carefully and helped you into your clean clothes.

He looked over at you, eyes still checking for injuries.

"You okay over there? Warm enough?" You nodded and he nodded back, smiling.

4

Joaquin woke with a jolt when the plane hit turbulence, there was a crick in his neck and a sore muscle in his back screaming for a soft bed and his favourite pillow. But no such luck, just an army evac in the dead of night.

Beside him Sam had spread out a blanket and his jacket on the floor, using his rucksack as a pillow and snoring soundly. He could always sleep anywhere, you all could, especially after the day you'd had.

Bucky had taken up a spot sat on the floor like Sam, but with his back to the thin benches, his pack holding up his head. In the gloom he could see Bucky's left arm rigidly holding his body up, elbow locked, because on the right you were leaning into him. His arm was around your shoulders and you'd curled your body into his, pressing into his side, face tucked into his neck and hand under his shirt.

The plane rattled again and Bucky blinked one eye open, his body still as he scanned around quickly before locking eyes with Joaquin.

"You two comfy?" Joaquin whispered and Bucky scowled back. He'd expected Bucky to push you away, but instead he tugged you closer.

Joaquin made a tiny heart shape with his fingers and then mimed kissing.

Bucky flicked up his middle finger and then closed his eyes.

5

"So, Playboy, got any plans tonight," Sam asked, scuffing Joaquin on the back of the head while you pulled your bag out of the gym lockers.

It'd been a long day and you couldn't wait to order a ridiculous amount of food, put your pyjamas on and forget the world existed.

"You know me, Sam. Keepin' my options open." The younger man grinned back.

"Lotta fingers in a lotta pies, have you Torres?" You snickered.

Bucky shut his locker with a slam. "Don't be crude," he grouched, but you saw the way he smiled when he rolled his eyes.

"Something like that," Joaquin shrugged.

"What about you man, hot date?" Joaquin asked,

"Nah," Sam turned away and Joaquin finished towelling his wet hair and started digging his clothes from his bag before wandering off for some privacy.

You slid your trainers back on, tucking your boots in your locker and wondering why they were both suddenly so interested in each other's dating life.

"Not even Leila," you needled, breaking the silence and poking him in the side.

"What's it got to do with you anyway? You seeing anyone tonight?"

"Nope, just me and some Chinese takeout tonight, maybe a little flirt with Netflix," Sam gave you a slightly sad look, but what did you care, it wasn't the only Friday night that would ever happen and you were exhausted.

"I was going to get noodles, do you want to come back to mine, we can split an order?" Bucky asked, fishing his keys from his gym bag and nodding his head towards the door.

"Ohh yes as long as we can get dumplings."

"Obviously we're getting dumplings."

"And maybe fried rice?"

"Rice and noodles?"

"You get one, I'll get the other, we'll split it."

"Fine."

"Shall I follow you —"

"Leave your car by the hanger, I'll drive you back in tomorrow."

"Perfect, let's grab a bottle of wine from the store on the way back."

Bucky groaned, holding the door open for you, "how many times have I said, the only acceptable drink with Chinese takeout is Tsingtao."

The door shut as Joaquin rounded the lockers again, a confused look on his face."Do they know it's Valentines Day?"

Sam laughed, "I don't think so but I can't wait to see their faces tomorrow when they figure it out."

+1

"I've got him, Bucky, you watch the trucks?" You put your sight back to your eye, shuffling your shoulders, settling lower into the ground, you breathed deeply as you prepared to take the shot.

"You'll give away your position, you're too close, fall back." Bucky's voice was surprisingly frantic in your ear.

"Quiet, please. I can do this."

"Leave her, Buck, she's got this."

"Cap's right, gotta have a little faith."

"It's too risky —"

You turned your comm off. You'd been watching this gang for weeks hoping to catch them in the act and you had the perfect chance.

Sam and Joaquin had been leading your infiltration of their den and everything had been going swimmingly — until their leader had walked out and thrown everything into chaos.

You caught the kickback from your rifle with practised ease, your aim perfect, the apparent leader of the group crumpled to the ground, bleeding from his now shattered kneecap. Nothing fatal, you wanted to see him on the stand as did the rest of the team.

You touched your ear piece again ready to gloat about your excellent hit but Bucky's panicked voice found you instead.

"Run, I'm coming but you've gotta run, go —go! Why aren't you going!"

You turned, surrounded by three armed guards, and did the only thing you could do. Fight back.

This wasn't the best time for close quarters combat, but you needed time to reach your handgun or your dagger or something.

Dodging around you gained enough time to slip a knife from your thigh holster.

"I've got it, Buck. Go to Sam."

"No you fucking haven't."

Your arm moved, swiping at your first assailant and leaving a splatter of blood behind. Still low you lurched for the second man's legs, jabbing upwards as he bent down to you. The blade pierced the top of his thigh and blood gushed out as you twisted your wrist and tugged.

"Don't kill anyone." Sam admonished.

But you were too focused to care. The third guard was huge, broad and carrying a knife to match. But it was the gun pointed at your temple that had your heart pounding.

"Put the gun down little lady, we don't want any more messes for you to clean up." The man leered forward, pressing the hot muzzle of the gun into your skin.

"Fuck off." You spat back.

He bent closer, sliding his dagger back into its holster, giving him a free hand to pinch your cheeks. "Such a dirty mouth, what will I do with you."

"She said, fuck off."

The man looked blank, turning his head to find Bucky towering over him gun pressed to his back.

"You okay?" He asked, glancing at you quickly.

"Fine."

"You're a lucky bastard today." Bucky pulled the trigger and you closed your eyes against the spray.

The man shouted, clutching at his shoulder where blood was pouring between his fingers, the wound wider at the front.

"How's that lucky, Bucky?" You chastised, brushing leaves and dirt from your tactical suit and grabbing your rifle.

"If you were hurt, I'd have shot him in the head." He answered, simply, and you felt yourself go hot all over at the thought of what he'd do for you.

Sam and Joaquin landed behind you and rushed forwards.

"We heard more shots, is everyone okay? — What the hell guys I said minimal damage." Sam groaned.

"Would've been easier if someone—" Bucky looked at you, "had left their comms on and run when I'd said."

You rolled your eyes, "I was fine, look." All three patrol guards lay bleeding on the ground.

"That guy had a gun to your head, you were not fine."

"I had him on the ropes." You smiled, but it wavered, you had been scared and your heart had been racing seeing Bucky sneak up on him. "Plus, I've got my knight in shining armour to shoot people for me." You grinned up at Bucky, blood painted on your uniforms and across your cheeks.

"Good thing too." Bucky threaded his fingers through your chest holster and tugged you forwards, pressing a deep kiss to your lips. You hummed happily and leant into him before he set you back down

"If you're done, Sam, can we go back to the jet? I've got bad guy blood all over me, yuck." You made a face and wiped your cheek with the back of your hand before strolling off with Bucky, rifles over your shoulders.

"Did they just—" Joaquin looked over at Sam.

"Yeah —"

"How long?"

"No idea."

As you rounded the corner Bucky took your hand again, tugging you closer and pressing a kiss to your head where the imprint of the gun still lingered.

"Does this finally mean I'm your boyfriend?"

"Because you shot someone for me?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, sure." You smiled, resting your cheek on his shoulder.

That Damn Phone

Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings - fluff, flirting, some swearing

Word count - 3020

a/n - I got this idea after seeing this video on tiktok, even though I know this has been done before on tumblr, and I wanted to write my own version. This was supposed to be posted a month ago, but I procrastinated and somehow ended up rewriting the whole thing💀. Also idk if I want to do a part 2 to this yet. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and thanks in advance for reading :)

Summary: After seeing a video of a couple do a certain trend on tiktok, you can't get it off your mind but decide not to bring it up to Bucky to avoid the embarrassment. Though, with Bucky being Bucky, he finds out anyways.

You sit on the couch waiting for Bucky to come home, passing the time by scrolling through Tiktok. You had planned on just being on the app for a little bit before opening your book currently sitting on your coffee table, but you keep getting absorbed in one video after another.

One video in particular catches your eye, so much so that you end up spending the next ten minutes reading comments and freaking out with everyone else. The video was of a girl asking her boyfriend to try a popular trend that all of the readers had brought to the internet.

You watch as the girl stands in the doorway and practically melts into the ground as her boyfriend towers over her, gently lifting up her chin to maintain eye contact. The girl’s face is covered in happiness and shock as she laughs and pulls away from the guy.

You can’t help but giggle along with her as butterflies fill your stomach, feeling the tension through the screen.

This would be fun to try with Bucky, but you don’t really want to ask him. It’s not like he would have a problem with fulfilling your wishes, but you know that he knows the effect he has on you, and this would just be added to the list of the things Bucky can purposefully do to make you flustered.

Bucky knows how you struggle to hold eye contact after a while of having his blue eyes stare back into yours when the two of you are having a conversation, and he has no problem with using it against you. He knows how flustered you get when he gets all up in your personal space, whispering teasing words into your ear to make you laugh and shy away.

He loves the fact that you still get nervous around him, even though the two of you have been dating for a while – long enough for those nerves to get thrown out of the window.

A memory suddenly enters your thoughts of Bucky being his usual flirty self before a night out:

You had just put on your new dress you had bought recently for tonight’s date. You look at yourself in the mirror, turning from side to side to make sure you’re satisfied with your appearance.

You see Bucky through the reflection in the mirror as he walks into the room, fixing the sleeves of his dress shirt. “Alright, doll, are you ready to head ou- woah,”Bucky begins to say, but cuts himself off when his eyes land on you. “Well what do we have here?”

You turn around to face him, giving him a bashful smile. “I just bought it last week. What do you think, do you like it?”

“I love it,” Bucky admits as he walks closer to you, taking his time on purpose as he lets his eyes run up and down your figure. He grabs your hand and makes you do a spin before facing the two of you towards the mirror. He pulls your back into his chest as he runs his hands up and down your sides. “You look so gorgeous, darling.  I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you.”

You let out a small laugh as you can’t help but roll your eyes at his compliment.

Bucky chuckles. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, I’m serious.” He moves his lips down to your ear to whisper, “you know, if you’re not feeling up for going out, we could skip the dinner and go straight for dessert.”

You give him a confused look, but it immediately goes away as he continues his statement, his voice dropping even lower. His eyes meet yours in the mirror as a smirk grows across his lips.

“...I’m suddenly in the mood for something sweet, and I’m pretty sure you could help me out with my craving.”

You gasp as you move out of his grasp, playfully pushing him away.

“Bucky!”

Bucky just laughs at your expression. “Eventually those nerves will be gone, doll, I don’t care how long I have to work on you.”

“Okay, stop!” you tell him with a smile as you turn and head into the bathroom to finish getting ready.

You suddenly hear a car door close, tearing you away from your thoughts. Your eyes widen as your heart picks up speed, only just now realizing how much time has passed when you glance at the time on your phone.

As soon as you hear Bucky’s keys jingle from the other side of the door, you quickly save the video and scroll past it, trying to act nonchalant as Bucky opens the front door. You greet him with a small smile as he walks over to you.

The smell of his cologne fills your nostrils, sending warmth through your body as he comes up behind you and leans over the couch to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“You’re in the exact same spot you were in when I left you,” Bucky chuckles as he rests his arms on the back of the couch, his eyes staring directly into yours. “What have you been doing this whole time?”

“Nothing really, just scrolling through random videos,” you shrug.

“Have you been on the same app?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowed as he glances down at the current video playing on your phone of a woman doing her makeup, before sending you a look.

“...maybe,” you shyly admit as you look away, causing Bucky to shake his head in fake disappointment. 

“You told me you were planning on finishing your book,” Bucky nods his head towards the now abandoned book on the table. 

“I was going to, but-,” you cut yourself off as Bucky gives you a teasing look. “It’s really addictive, okay! You would understand if you’d actually give it a chance.”

“If it’s going to take up my day like it does yours, I don’t want any part of it,” Bucky says, putting his hands up in surrender as he backs up and makes his way towards the stairs. “I would like to keep what’s left of my mind.”

You roll your eyes at his response. Your eyes flicker towards the book in front of you before trying to turn your attention back onto your phone, but the video from earlier keeps playing in your mind as you subconsciously scroll.

Should you really ask him to do this trend? Should you do it now? You could wait until he’s already standing next to you so it seems casual. Should you just scrap the idea and stick to daydreaming?

Your mind continues to turn, and after a while of not being able to come to a decision, you let out a groan and slump further into the couch.

“Everything okay over there?” you hear Bucky ask, making you jump a little as you turn your head.

You watch as he pulls a shirt over his head while coming down the stairs. He’s changed into comfortable clothes instead of his outfit he wore to hangout with Sam.

For a moment, you get distracted by the snug fit of Bucky’s shirt, specifically the way it clings to the top of his bionic arms and fits around his chest and-

What the hell is your problem?

Bucky gives you a confused look from your delayed response. 

You clear your throat. “Yeah, just…thinking,” you respond, shaking your head as if to try and shake the thoughts from your head.

Not completely believing you, but deciding to brush it off, Bucky gives you a look as he makes his way into the kitchen. You let out a breath at the tiny bullet you just dodged.

Maybe it would have been better to just read the damn book instead, that way you could just enter another world and fantasize all you want about a fictional man instead of creeping Bucky out.

“What do you want for dinner?” Bucky calls out from the inside of the kitchen. “Do you want to have something delivered or do you want to try that new recipe you found online?”

“We’ve been eating out all week, we should probably just try that recipe,” you call back. You stand up from your spot on the couch and stretch, before making your way to Bucky. “I can take care of everything since it was my idea after all.”

Bucky glances at you as you walk in. “Don’t worry about it, sweets, I don’t have a problem with making it for you,” he tells you, his voice clashing with the sound of him rummaging through cabinets for cookware and ingredients.

“Well at least let me help,” you say, tilting your head as you give Bucky one of your sweet smiles. 

He playfully scoffs at you, but gives in. “Alright, alright. If you insist,” he tells you as he leans in to place a quick kiss on your forehead.

“Let me just use the bathroom first. Oh, and I should probably go change in case things get messy,” you tell him, subconsciously placing your phone down on the counter before walking away.

Bucky gives you a nod, and continues to get everything ready. When he notices your unlocked phone on the counter a couple of feet away from him, his attention shifts.

He has a habit of looking through the TikTok videos you’ve watched to see what you enjoy and find funny, or to give him ideas for things he could do from you. You’ve caught him a couple of times, and each time you would playfully scold him and take back your phone, and Bucky would just laugh it off knowing that you were joking.

It’s the closest he will get to actually using the app and he would rather die before admitting that it has been helpful or that he too has stumbled across some interesting things.

Bucky stops shuffling through videos when he sees one that you’ve liked and added to your favorites — the video of the girl and her boyfriend.

His eyebrows raise as he watches the video play, an evil smirk developing on his lips once he realizes why you’ve added this certain video to your favorites.

As he hears your footsteps get closer, Bucky quickly scrolls back down to the video that was paused on your phone before you left and moves back to his previous position on the other side of the kitchen. He clears his throat as he busies his hands to prevent you from being suspicious,

“Okay, let’s get started,” you announce as you enter the kitchen, rolling up your sleeves in the process. “Oh! Let me pull the recipe video up, I have it saved.”

“Of course it’s on that damn app,” Bucky murmurs as he watches you find the video, causing you to quietly let out a giggle.

After giving the video another run through and looking through the comments, you feel confident in what has to be done. You turn on some background music before placing a pot of water onto the stove for it to boil. When you go over to Bucky to help him cut up the vegetables, he tells you that he’s got it.

“Come on, Bucky. Give me something to do,” you groan, hopping onto the counter to watch him work. 

“You could read your book. You know, the book you’ve been wanting to finish reading for a while, but you keep putting it off? That sounds like a good idea to me,” Bucky gives you a teasing look as he glances over at you, and you just glare at him in return. 

You pettily let out a loud huff and cross your arms across your chest. “Well, when you tell me to do it, I no longer want to.”

Bucky chuckles at your response as he continues slicing and dicing. 

Having nothing better to do at the moment, the tiktok video from earlier enters your mind, making you open up an app to read some fanfiction. After noticing a smile repeatedly make its way onto your face from the corner of his eye, Bucky steals a look at your screen. 

“Are you reading a book on your phone?” Bucky raises his eyebrows.

Well, reading fanfiction is technically like reading a book, so….

“Yeah, why?”

Bucky stops chopping altogether, turning his attention to you in disbelief. “So you’ll read on your phone, but not in real life?”

“Technically, this is still real life – the words are just on a screen instead of paper,” you give him an innocent smile before looking back down at your phone.

Bucky playfully rolls his eyes at you, before turning his attention to the vegetables. That's when he remembers something. Bucky turns back to you.

“Y’know, speaking of books, have you ever heard of this thing called booktok?” Bucky asks. There’s a teasing look on his face, but you don’t notice it yet.

Confused, but not giving it much thought, you direct your attention at Bucky. “Yeah, but why do you know about it?”

He gives you a shrug. “I just saw something about it, and it seemed like something you’d know about.”

Thinking that the conversation is over, you look back down at your phone.

But, it’s not.

“You know, I saw this interesting video recently and it had something to do with booktok also. Maybe you’ve seen it?” Bucky continues, trying to hide the smirk from growing on his face.

Once again, you look at Bucky. This time your eyebrows are furrowed, getting the feeling that he’s up to something.

“I don’t know, maybe. What was it about?”

Bucky turns back to the vegetables on the counter and continues to chop, but his focus is still mainly on you.

“It was a video of this girl and her boyfriend, and in the video she asks him to do this trend with her–”

He’s not talking about- No, there’s no way.

“--you can see her set the camera up and ask her boyfriend to stand in the doorway, and she joins him.”

You feel your heart drop as you finally notice the teasing tone in his voice as he talks and the hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips.

Oh. My. God.

Bucky looks back over at you. “Have you seen this trend?”

You’re speechless for a second, but you quickly find your words. You swallow. You’re looking back down at your phone when you respond. “Um, yeah I think so.”

“Apparently all the people involved in this booktok thing know about it. She asks him to recreate a scene in a book where the man towers over her and leans in, and apparently a lot of women seem to enjoy it,” Bucky continues to innocently ramble as if there’s no ulterior motive to this speech, but you know there is. Then Bucky asks, “Do you?”

You don’t know if you should strangle him or curl up in a ball and die of embarrassment.

“Do I what?” you ask, trying to seem as unaffected as possible.

“Do you enjoy things like that?” he simply asks as he stops chopping to wash his hands.

This smug piece of shit.

“Did you go through my saved videos?” you ask, deciding it’s time to drop the facade and let the shock show on your face.

Bucky chooses to do the same; letting the smirk fully emerge on his face, Bucky dries off his hands and leans on the counter with a hand on his hip, giving you his full attention.

He shrugs. “Maybe.” 

You let your jaw drop. “Why?”

He shrugs again. “Why not?”

“You know what? I think you should cook by yourself,” you huff. 

You’ve made up your mind – you’ll crawl up in a ball and die.

You hop off the counter and begin to make your way out of the kitchen, but bucky stops you.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be upset,” Bucky chuckles as he pulls you back and backs you into the kitchen counter, keeping his hands on your hips.

You really hate your body for enjoying the feeling of being trapped between him and the counter at a time like this.

“I’m not upset,” you lie, avoiding eye contact as you fold your arms across your chest.

“See, you're telling me one thing and your face is telling me something else, sweetheart. You’re not even looking at me,” Bucky smiles, and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me,” you tell him, causing him to let out a laugh.

“Oh, you’re really upset,” Bucky says. When you don’t say anything, he adds. “Come on, doll, I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you?”

“Like I said earlier, you should cook by yourself,” you say. You make another move to leave, but Bucky just tightens his grip to golf you there. You let out a groan. “Let me go.”

“No can do, not until you're no longer mad at me.”

“We’re gonna be here for a while then,” you mumble.

Bucky moves his head to try to get you to look at him, but you just move too. Bucky breathes out a laugh. He steps away from you as he says, “I’ve got a better idea.”

You watch him go to the now boiling pot of water and move it, before reaching to turn off the stove. When he turns back to you, there’s a different look on his face.

Uh oh. 

“What are you doing?” you ask and slowly start making your way towards the kitchen entrance.

“I gotta cheer you up somehow,” he smirks, grabbing your phone out of your hand and stuffing it in his pocket.

“What the hell are y-,” you begin, but cut yourself off with a scream as your tossed upside down from Bucky throwing you over his shoulder, “Bucky!”

“Would you stop?” Buck laughs as his grip on you tightens from your squirming. “We have to recreate some scenes for booktok.”

“What about dinner? Everything is still out,” you say as he begins to make his way up the stairs.

“Don’t worry, we'll be back. Hopefully.”

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Me when the fam has size difference

Spare Parts

Summary : Your boyfriend gets used to life with one arm.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Fluff!!!! Sexual references, and implied sex, though no graphic descriptions. Cursing. 

Requested by : @undf-stuff (based on this request)

Word count : 1.7k

Note : I haven't updated my masterlist since last month but I promise you I will soon! Enjoy!

Bucky Barnes, at some point, decided his left arm was optional.

You weren’t exactly sure when it started, but looking back, the signs were there. You should’ve seen it as a steady progression of small moments that culminated into this. 

At first, it was little things— chopping vegetables one-handed like he was starring in a cooking competition. The metal arm would still be on, but he’d keep his vibranium fingers curled into a loose fist like he didn’t quite trust them not to cause trouble.

The moment you really noticed came one evening when he flopped onto the couch beside you, let out a long, dramatic sigh, and—without a single word—just took the arm off and set it on the coffee table like it was a pair of gloves he didn’t feel like wearing.

You blinked and opened your mouth. “Uh…”

Bucky, completely unbothered, stretched out with a pleased hum. “It gets in the way,” he accused, reaching for the TV remote with his right hand. “And, it gets messy.”

Your eyes flickered to the sleek piece of vibranium now lying abandoned on the table, looking vaguely out of place next to the half-empty bowl of caramel popcorn you had made for the evening. 

“Messy?” you echoed.

“Yes. Messy.” He huffed, his eyes dark and brooding like a man who had seen things— horrible, terrible things, and you weren’t even talking about the Hydra stuff. “Do you know how annoying it is to clean blood, dirt, and food out of all those little joints? Last week, I got butter in there. Butter.” He shuddered.

“That was your fault,” You barely suppressed a laugh. “You stole my toast.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said stubbornly, waving a dismissive hand. Then, with the confidence of a man who had never done anything wrong in his life, he draped his human arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer. “I’ve decided to be right-handed.”

“You are right-handed.”

“Well, now I’m only right-handed.”

You sighed, shaking your head as you settled your head on his shoulders, hopelessly fond. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You keep me around anyway.” he shrugged, pressing a lazy kiss to your hair, 

You huffed. “Against my better judgment.”

Not that you’d ever get rid of him. Bucky Barnes was your weak spot. A six-foot hunk of grumpy, stubborn, adorable beef who could get away with anything if he tried hard enough.

Even the cardinal sin he committed that night, as he put his damn arm in the dishwasher.

Which, by the way, you always scolded him for.

And which, by the way, he always did anyway.

—

After that, the left arm gradually made fewer appearances in day to day life.

Cooking? Off. It’s hard to get oil off the ridges.

Coffee? Off. The grounds get in the plating. 

Fixing little things around the apartment? Definitely off—especially after last time, when he’d gotten a nail stuck between the plates of his vibranium fingers and sulked about it for hours.

At first, it was mildly concerning. “Bucky,” you’d say, watching him knead dough one-handed like some determined pioneer wife who lost her arm to an untreatable infection. “Just put the fucking arm on.”

He’d just shrug. “It’s fine.”

Then, it became routine.

Did a jar need opening? He wouldn’t even attempt it. He’d just hand it to you, expecting you to pop it open like you were his personal Jar Opener. (He stopped doing this himself after he tried wedging a pickle jar between his thighs to twist the lid off— except his ridiculous, super-soldier thighs of steel turned it into a disaster. The glass shattered, pickles and brine went everywhere, and he ended up with a mess of tiny cuts, which healed annoyingly fast).

It should’ve been annoying.

But it wasn’t.

Because every single time, without fail, he’d watch you do it with this cute little smile— like it delighted him, like it thrilled him to see you easily accomplish something that, for once, he couldn’t. (It was adorable, honestly).

—

But the part you loved most were the mornings.

Bucky was an early riser. You were not. And on the days when duty called him out before the sun had even bothered to peek through the curtain, he’d always accidentally disturb your sleep as he got out of bed. 

And he hated that. He hated that you pouted when you realised he had to go. He hated leaving you feeling alone. So one he detached his arm and draped it over your waist as if he was still there.

It worked like a charm. You didn’t even notice he was gone until a couple of hours later. 

The first time it had happened, you’d been so startled when you woke up to a disembodied arm, you threw it across the room and broke a vase.

Now, it was comforting. It became a part of him you could hold onto when he had to leave too early, when the bed was too cold and the world was too quiet. And he knew you loved it.

In those mornings, when you finally trudged into the kitchen—hair a mess, eyes still half-lidded, his metal arm slung over your shoulder like the world’s strangest scarf—he’d take one look at you and smile from ear to ear.

“Morning, doll,” he’d say, clearly just getting back from the gym. “Sleep okay?”

And every time, without fail, you’d yawn, press a drowsy kiss to his jaw and click the arm back into place on his shoulders.

“Yeah,” you’d mumble, leaning in, “Your arm kept me company.”

And every time, without fail, Bucky would readjust it, then wrap both arms around you, tug you in close, and press the softest kiss to your hair.

“Good,” he’d whisper, lips brushing your temple. “That’s why I left it.”

—

There was one time, though, that Bucky misplaced it entirely.

And he only noticed they were gone when he received a concerning message from Rocket Raccoon.

[Off-World Transmission Received: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA GOT YOUR ARM.]

And attached to it, was a picture of his arm in a box, the guardians posing with it (Drax had a middle finger up. You don’t think he knew what it meant).

Bucky stared at the screen. “What.”

Slowly, very slowly, he turned to you. His eyes a mix of horror, confusion, and the kind of sheer disbelief that only came from realising you had lost an entire prosthetic limb.

“Did I—” He swallowed. “Did I have my arm when I went to bed last night?”

You frowned, trying to rewind through last night’s memories, though you failed. “…I think so?”

Spoiler alert: He did not.

He had left it to air dry in the dishwasher.  And as it turned out, at some point between you and Bucky going to bed and the sun rising, Nebula had waltzed in and stole it— all that effort for Rocket’s goddamn Christmas present.

And Bucky, so used to going without it, had somehow managed to not notice for a good twenty-four hours.

You would’ve felt bad for him, except for the part where he spent the next two days pacing around the apartment, grumbling like he had a personal thundercloud over his head while you attempted to hold in your laughter.

In the end, he had to commission a whole new arm from Shuri, who laughed so hard she had to mute herself on the call. Though she did agree to make him an arm that was easier to clean. 

And Rocket was a dead fucking man. Let’s just say your boyfriend was not a man to let things slide.

—

Surprisingly, though, the real revelation came later.

For all his dramatic sighs and grumbles about crumbs in the joints and butter between the ridges on the plating, Bucky still refused to wear the sleeker, less bulky arm Shuri had designed for him to use regularly. As it turned out, there was another reason he was so particular about keeping his arm clean—a reason that, when he finally admitted it, had you staring at him, unsure if you should be aroused and concerned.

Because, apparently, Bucky Barnes was keeping his vibranium arm spotless for you.

For sex.

See the thing is, sex with Bucky was never, ever vanilla.

He liked using that arm. Loved the way you gasped when cold metal traced up the inside of your thighs, how you writhed beneath him when he wrapped it around your throat, how you begged when he pinned you down under its inescapable grips.  

He loved making you tremble. Loved the power his vibranium arm offered—his flesh hand was soothing, his vibranium one unrelenting, precise, wrecking you in ways only he could.

So yeah. He wanted to use the arm for you. 

Until, one night, you told him you wanted to see what it was like without it.

It started gently, with lazy kisses and the drag of lips over skin, the sheer weight of his body pressing you into the mattress.

But then, just when you expected him to shift, to brace himself on that vibranium forearm like always—you remembered  it wasn’t there.

It was across the room, abandoned on the table.

And Bucky was touching you with nothing but himself.

His broad, big human hand—first skimming over your ribs, slipping up your thigh, calloused fingertips brushing all your sensitive spots until you were gasping his name.

His mouth—hot and wet, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your throat, over your collarbone. His voice was gruff as he murmured against your skin, “So beautiful. Gonna take my time with you, sweetheart. “

My god, did he.

See, Bucky Barnes was never vanilla in bed… until today. He was usually all filth, with teasing grins and a fuckin’ take it, baby growled every once in a while. 

Today, he was so vulnerably human, filled with whispered devotion. He was slow and loving. He had your fingers clawing at his back, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. There was something about being just flesh and blood that made him so… sensitive. So gentle.

And fuck, it was good.

So good that afterward, when you were sprawled across his chest, blissed-out, you found yourself telling him, “You don’t always have to put it back on, you know.”

Bucky chuckled, lips brushing your temple. “Yeah?”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest, your fingers threading through his. “Yeah.”

And now that he didn’t need the arm to feel whole, the arm started to stay off a little more often in bed.

-End.

General Bucky taglist:

@hotlinepanda @snflwr-vol6 @ruexj283 @2honeybees @read-just-cant

 @shanksstrawhat @mystictf @globetrotter28 @thebuckybarnesvault@average-vibe

@winchestert101 @mystictf @globetrotter28 @shanksstrawhat @scariusaquarius

@reckless007 @hextech-bros @daydreamgoddess14 @96jnie @pono-pura-vida

@buckyslove1917 @notsostrangerthing @flow33didontsmoke @qvynrand @blackbirdwitch22

@torntaltos @seventeen-x @ren-ni @iilsenewman @slayerofthevampire

@hiphip-horray @jbbucketlist @melotyy @ethereal-witch24 @samfunko

@lilteef @hi172826 @pklol @average-vibe @shanksstrawhat

@shower-me-with-roses @athenabarnes @scarwidow @thriving-n-jiving @dilfsaresohot

@helloxgoodbi @undf-stuff @sapphirebarnes @hzdhrtss @softhornymess

@samfunko @wh1sp @anonymousreader4d7 @mathcat345 @escapefromrealitylol

@imjusthere1161 @sleepysongbirdsings @fuckybarnes @yn-stories-are-my-life

@cjand10

my sister and me having a great time...

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Hi!! I’m new here so I’m sorry if I do this wrong. Just want to send some Thunderbolts!Bucky ideas maybe he called his girlfriend (the reader) for backup (maybe she’s a former shield agent) but didn’t share too many info with the group and they all a little surprised to find out he has a girlfriend

Let me know what you think, thanks!

i absolutely LOVE this!!! Ever since I saw Thunderbolts I've been thinking about almost this exact thing and I got another ask for something similar, so here we are! I'm also tempted to make a part two of this but focus on the two of them more and make it a comfort thing to apologize for my shame room fic LOL

love you 3000!

Signed Up For This

Word count: 1,143

As far as the media knew, the two of you were nothing more than acquaintances. 

But it was a bond that had gone back a lifetime, from when the two of you had first met when you were fresh out of escaping the Red Room, to when he was the contact you had made to get a fresh start on life and he was in the process of trying to make amends with his existence, so he had offered to get coffee. “We both need some… new connections,” he had said, offering that awkward smile that you had fallen for almost as quickly as he’d fallen for you. 

It was your idea to keep it a secret. You knew how he felt about weaknesses and you were currently the only one he really had. If anyone knew the truth… God, it terrified him. The idea of losing the one pure and right thing he’d gained in this side of the century drove him into a panic more often than he’d admit. So he was glad you had brought it up, worried you might be offended or think he was ashamed of you.

Which was what made him making you the head of his security when he decided to run for Congress a little out of the blue, but you took it. Any opportunity to be close. Plus… who said sneaking around at work was for teenagers? 

But tonight, you had a different reason for asking to speak to him in private in the middle of the fundraiser gala. You knew that look on his face. That look that said he was plotting when he very much should not have been. 

“What are you thinking?” you asked, peeking around the corner for a moment before your gaze fixed on him again. It was a miracle his hair had stayed in place, but there was a reason he always made you do it for him. “I can see that look.”

“What look?” he replied, that dumb grin you’d fallen for years ago pulling at his mouth. “I’m not thinking.”

“You are such a liar, James Barnes. I can see it. Whatever you’re thinking, leave it alone. We are past our meddling days.”

“I’m not meddling,” he said. 

You tilted your head. “Do not let this stuff with Valentina get personal. You can’t afford to get in trouble with all this.” 

“The politics don’t—”

“I’m not talking about politics,” you said. “I’m talking about you, Buck. We don’t know for sure what’s going on and we can’t act until we do. Otherwise we’ll be in just as much trouble as she is.”

“I talked to her assistant,” Bucky said. 

“Her assistant? Mel?” 

“Yes. She’s on the fence.” 

“Okay. Tell her to call you when she’s made a decision. Don’t make it your job to change her mind,” you said, taking a step closer. He just stood there a moment, looking you over. Not in that ‘get in the office and take off that dress’ kind of way he normally did, but like he was just taking in your existence. “You told me that my job as your security is to keep you safe. But my job as your fiance is to make sure that we’re not making dumb decisions. Let Mel come to you.”

He nodded, reaching for your waist to tug your body closer. Normally you’d pull away in a setting like this, even hidden, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. Not now. Not when you had that feeling in your stomach that something was just off. And that feeling had never led you astray. “I just make your job harder, don’t I?” he said with a small, teasing smile. 

“You do, but I signed up for it,” you replied. 

“I’ll be good,” he said, nodding. “But… Mel’s just a kid. If she needs help—”

“Help her,” I said. “And if she needs more than that, call me.” 

He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your mouth. “My best girl,” he whispered. 

“Always.”

And you should’ve known after that conversation that it was only a matter of time. Within thirty-six hours, you were sent a pin drop link to some place in the middle of nowhere and a message that just said “need you.”

You’d tugged on that leather uniform jacket you hadn’t touched in a long time and braided back your hair before pulling up to some abandoned garage in the middle of nowhere, intel in hand. You could hear voices from inside, something about a “Bob” and exclamations of words you hardly understood. 

You shoved through the rusted door, swiping up on the tab in your hands. “She took over the old Avengers tower,” you said, approaching and offering Bucky the tablet. “Heat signatures say she has the place crawling with security and I ran facial rec on the guy she brought in early this morning.”

“So guns blazing is the only way in,” Bucky said, reaching to squeeze your hand in a silent thank you. 

You shrugged your shoulders. “Guess so,” you replied before turning to the abstract group of circus people tied up in front of you. And John. “What the hell happened here? Bucky, I told you to just leave Walker alone, he’s been through enough.”

“Who are you?” the little blonde in black asked. If you squinted, you might recognize her. Like some sort of really distant, childhood memory. 

Bucky blew out a breath before you could answer. “She’s my fiance.”

“Your what?” came from all four of them. 

“He’s married?” the brunette asked. 

“In the process,” I corrected. 

“How did that happen?” Walker muttered. 

“Oh, that is cute!” the large one exclaimed, seeming to be way too happy considering the circumstance.

You glanced at Bucky, your arms folded over your chest. “This is… who was so important?” 

“They’re witnesses,” Bucky said, giving you a look as if to tell you to be kind. 

A sigh escaped your lips as you looked at the others. “Most ragtag team I’ve ever seen,” you said, shaking your head. “What, exactly, is the plan here?”

“Well, originally, they were my witnesses,” Bucky said, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “But now the agenda looks a little different. Take out Val, help Bob. Then we go home.” 

“Bob?” You asked. “Like Robert?” You took the tablet from his hands and swiped it open. “Yeah, he’s a big deal now. If we’re gonna move, we need to do it fast.” You swapped a knowing look with Bucky as he nodded. “I’ll start the car.” 

As you made your way towards the door, you heard the voices behind you. 

“So you’re really not all bite, huh?” one of the girls said. 

“Someone really does have a soft spot.”

“Isn’t that cute."

And despite yourself, a small smile pulled at your lips.

JUST A BITE

You learned quickly that Bucky Barnes had the tastebuds of a man who’d survived decades of rationed food and army chow—because he could eat anything. And not just anything… but pain. Pure, fiery, tear-inducing, sweat-on-your-brow spice.

You, on the other hand, would combust at a medium salsa.

The first time you’d gone out to eat together, he’d asked if you wanted to try a bite of his dish. You’d said yes, stupidly trusting. And when you took a mouthful of his flaming Thai curry, it was like your soul left your body for a moment.

Tears streaming, hiccuping, you’d waved wildly at him while gulping water, and all he’d done was laugh. That rare, deep laugh that lit up his entire face and made your heart flutter despite the actual hell in your mouth.

From then on, it became a silent agreement. You’d order something gentle—creamy, sweet, or mild. He’d get something that could probably strip paint. And no matter what, halfway through the meal, you’d each push your plates halfway across the table.

“Wanna trade a bite?” he’d ask casually, like this wasn’t a weekly ritual by now.

You’d glare at him every time. “One bite. One. And a small one.”

He’d just grin, breaking off a piece of your naan or scooping a bit of your pasta with practiced ease. You’d do the same, trying to find a pocket of his dish that didn’t look lava-adjacent. You never succeeded.

Tonight was no different. You were at a cozy little Indian place you’d both grown fond of. You had your creamy butter chicken with fluffy rice, and Bucky had some devil-red vindaloo that made the air around it spicy.

You exchanged bites like clockwork.

He hummed happily when he tasted yours. “God, how is this so good?”

“Because you can taste it,” you countered, taking the tiniest possible bite of his. “Oh my god—nope, still evil. Still so evil.” You grabbed your mango lassi like it was holy water.

He snorted into his water glass. “You’re so dramatic.”

“You’re a spice masochist.”

“Maybe I just like flavour, doll.”

“That isn’t flavour.. it's... it's- I dunno but it hurts”

Still, you tried it. You always tried it. Because for some reason, part of you loved the way he smiled when you did. Like he was in on a private joke with you. Like he liked knowing you’d brave the fire for him, even if it made your nose run.

And maybe… you liked feeding him a bite of yours, too. Watching his eyes flutter shut just a little at the sweetness, the softness of it.

friendly introductions – bucky barnes

summary: bucky unexpectedly shows up at your apartment, and he's brought a few people with him pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader (ft. the thunderbolts*) word count: 3.4k tags: thunderbolts* shenanigans, spoilers here and there obvs, slight miscommunication, big happy dysfunctional family in the making, google translator was used for the russian words (sorry), kissing, little bit of angst and little bit of fluff notes: i just saw the movie yesterday and as soon as i got back home i decided to write this, which is loosely connected to this fic i posted recently. i just loved the thunderbolts* so much they mean the entire world to me right now. perhaps more fics are coming in the future because i have lots of ideas!!! as always, i hope you enjoy

please reblog and/or comment if you enjoy!

all masterlists | marvel masterlist | part 1 (not strictly necessary to read this one tho)

“Sorry for such short notice,” Bucky mutters as soon as you open the door for him and the rest of the entire group. You could tell he’s been having a pretty rough time just by looking at him. Hair messy, frowning more than usual, dirty clothing and a cut on his left cheek. The rest of the people he’s with don’t look any better. It wouldn’t take an expert to figure out they’ve been in some kind of combat and, most likely, they didn’t come on top. 

“It’s okay,” you quickly reassure him, leaving the door open until every single one of them were inside your apartment, closing it behind them. “Can I ask what happened?”

“We…uh, got our ass kicked, basically,” he replies, sounding quite exhausted. 

You take a second to look at the group. Unfamiliar faces of people you could only assume are in the superhero/villain/whatever business. There’s a blonde woman who immediately leans against one of the walls of your living room, trying to get some sort of rest after the fight. The other woman stays by the entrance and you can’t help but admire how cool her suit is. There’s algo a guy in a red suit and he looks absolutely huge and terrifying, but the smile he sends your way with the silly little wave he makes as you make eye contact gives you the impression that he might not be as intimidating as you initially thought.

And then, your eyes focus on the other person in the room.

“You,” is all you say, your voice sounding anything but welcoming.

Everyone turns to look at Walker, who offers you an awkward smile. “Yeah, hi.”

“You two know each other?” the blonde one asks.

“Unfortunately,” you reply, keeping your eyes on the guy at all times. You know enough about John Walker to be stupid enough to let him out of your sight. “Listen, I don’t know what just happened to you guys, but in case Bucky hasn’t warned you already, you can’t trust this piece of shit.”

Noticing you’re starting to get a little heated by his presence, Bucky wraps an arm around your waist from behind, just in case you decide to go over him and confront him for everything that has happened in the past. “It’s okay. He’s here to help.”

You turn to look at him like he just said the most absurd thing you’ve ever heard in your life, but he simply stares back at you with a serious expression, nodding as if to emphasize on his previous statement, trying to let you know you can actually trust the guy. When you turn back to look at Walker, he raises both hands in the air as a sign to further prove that he’s harmless.

“I’ll be keeping an eye out,” you warn him, pointing your finger at him. 

“That’s fair,” he nods.

“Whoa, she’s feisty!” you hear the excited voice of the guy in the red suit as he lets out a short chuckle. “I like her already!”

You feel Bucky’s grip around your waist tightening. “We’re just here to get some cover and figure out our next move.”

Suddenly remembering the fact that all these strangers are standing in various spots in your living room, you get away from Bucky to walk over to your couch. “Oh, so sorry! What a terrible host,” you attempt to joke a little in hopes of lightening the mood, quickly removing your laptop and various papers scattered across your couch. “Please, take a seat!”

None of them move at first, but they eventually accept the invitation and walk towards your couch to sit down. All except Walker, who decides to stay in the same spot he’s been since he entered your apartment. Not like you care, so you just let him stand there on his own.

A few awkward introductions later and you already know everyone. Alexei, Ava and Yelena. One a total stranger and the others slightly familiar to you due to them being related to Natasha. You couldn’t bring yourself to say her name out loud, though. If you struggle to think about her without bursting out crying, you can’t even imagine what it would be like for her dad and sister. Last thing you want is to cause them any discomfort.

“And how exactly do you know each other?” Yelena asks you and Bucky after you introduce yourself to them too.

“Former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent,” Bucky replies before you can say anything, and you can’t help but turn to look at him with a slightly confused expression. “We’ve been friends for a very long time.”

Friends. Sure. Whatever. If that’s what he wants to call it…

After what happened last time you were in D.C., Bucky was constantly making trips to New York to visit you. You’re not officially dating, but it’s established that you’re exclusive. Long distance isn’t ideal, but you’ve made it work so far. Probably the happiest months of your life. But now…you hear him introducing you as his friend. It’s not really a big deal. Technically you are friends? It shouldn’t affect you as much as it does, but…you’re internally fuming right now.

Still, you decide not to say anything regarding that. He’s always been quite a reserved person, so perhaps he didn’t feel comfortable enough to share that information with them just yet. “Can I get you anything to drink?” you decide to ask, looking at everyone else.

“We’re not-”

“I’m sure a glass of water won’t kill anybody,” you say, immediately cutting Bucky off.

There’s a brief silence before Ava speaks. “I’ll have a glass of water. Thank you.”

You look at Yelena as she shortly nods before you focus on Alexei. “Do you perhaps have something else other than water?”

“Dad,” Yelena warns him.

You ignore that short interaction. “Something like what?”

“Like vodka,” he replies simply, like it’s a normal request. Perhaps the russian accent and the fact that he does look like a walking Soviet propaganda adds context to it.

“Dad!” Yelena repeats herself, this time in a louder voice, before hiding her face in her hands. The scene of her getting embarrassed by her dad’s behavior is actually hilarious.

“Two glasses of water and one glass of vodka, got it.” Then it was time to acknowledge Walker again. Even when you deeply hate the guy, you still want to be polite. “Do you want anything?”

“Uh…just water,” he mutters, still unsure on how to really talk to you. It’s ironic how quiet he is right now, considering he had a hard time shutting his mouth when you first met him. “Thank you.”

You offer the group a smile before excusing yourself to go to your kitchen, leaving them momentarily alone. Bucky was about to speak, wanting to initiate a debate on what their plan is going to be to fight against someone as powerful and seemingly invincible as Sentry, but Yelena speaks before he does.

“Now, would you mind telling us how you really know each other?”

Bucky looks immediately confused. “What do you mean?”

“You know I was trained to be a spy since I was very little.”

“Surely you don’t say it enough,” Walker mutters, earning an unamused look from her.

“That must really bother you, Mr. I-was-in-the-military,” Ava chimes in, rolling her eyes.

Ignoring both of them, Yelena decides to continue. “I’m very good at reading people, Bucky. She almost wanted to punch you in the face when you said you two were friends, which let’s me know the comment upset her,” she says, tilting her head to the side. “Why is that?”

“Ah! That’s your lover!” Alexei comments with pleasant surprise.

“And you didn’t introduce her as your girlfriend?” Ava says shortly after, giving him a disapproving look. “No wonder she would want to punch you in the face.”

“Yeah, that’s not cool, man,” Walker agrees from his spot in the living room.

Alexei’s cheerfulness dries down, nodding. “I agree. It’s not very nice.”

Bucky scoffs, crossing his arms across his chest in a defensive manner. He couldn’t believe these people were judging him over something he thought was meaningless. It was just a way to keep his private life private. Why should they know he’s dating anybody? They’re not his friends to be sharing information like that with them. And it’s not like they’re ever going to see you again anyway. Why is this such a big deal?

“Whoever I date or don’t date it’s not your business,” he simply replies.

Ava scoffs this time. “Don’t bring us to your girlfriend’s flat then.”

“When did you guys became a thing?” Walker asks this time, looking like he's thinking back on it in hopes of remembering any indication that might've gave it away.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, getting more and more exasperated. “We barely got out of that fight against Valentina’s experiment and it’s a matter of time before we have to face him again. Why are we even talking about this?”

“Oh, Bucky,” Yelena shakes her head in a condescending manner. “You’re right, we do not care about your lovelife. Thinking about it makes me sick, actually. But she looked really hurt by what you said, so perhaps you should go talk to her and make things right.”

The other three agreed with Yelena almost immediately, and Bucky just stood there looking at them in disbelief because why are they giving him their input on his relationship? Why is Yelena giving him advice? Why are they getting involved in Bucky’s personal life?

But instead of arguing, he decides to listen to them and heads towards the kitchen. He walks in just in time to see you pouring Alexei an entire glass of vodka as he requested, the other three glasses of water already filled.

“Oh, good. You’re here,” you say nonchalantly, like what Yelena said about you wanting to punch him in the face was just something she misread in your body language. You surely don’t look like you're thinking about violence right now. “Could you help me with the drinks, please?”

Perhaps Yelena was wrong, but just in case she wasn’t, he decided to ask about it. “Are you okay?”

You let out a quick and confused chuckle as you store away the almost finished bottle of vodka. “Why would I not be okay? If you’re asking because you brought them here, I think they’re actually very nice…aside from Walker, of course.”

“No, I mean…the way I introduced you to them,” he says in a soft voice, walking closer to you. “I probably shouldn’t have said you were my friend.”

There’s a brief pause between you, until you’re eventually shrugging. “It’s fine.”

“Is it?” he insists, standing right before you as he grabs your hands in his. “Talk to me.”

You hesitate a little before eventually giving in. “I mean, you can’t expect me to be thrilled to hear you introduce me to a bunch of people as just your friend.”

Bucky sighs. Yelena was right. “I’m so sorry,” he says almost immediately, giving your hands a light squeeze. “I just met these people and I highly doubt we’ll keep in touch after this. I didn’t want to share that information with them. We’re not exactly…close like that,” he explains himself, looking genuinely sorry for what he said. “I should’ve considered how that would make you feel, or at least tried to explain why I did it as soon as I could. I didn’t mean to hurt you or downplay what we have.”

You can tell he’s genuinely sorry, understanding his reasoning behind it. Perhaps you forgot to put into perspective the fact that they’re just super people Bucky has been forced to work with. Not necessarily friends. “It’s okay, I understand.”

Bucky nods, but he still looks absolutely defeated. “I feel terrible,” he mutters. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

You let go of his hands, wrapping your arms around his neck instead. “It’s okay, babe,” you repeat, offering him a soft smile to let him know you forgive him. “I understand you didn’t feel comfortable sharing that with them.”

“I promise I won’t do it again.”

“You’re not obligated to disclose anything with anyone if you don’t feel like it,” you say, just to remind him to do whatever it feels right to him. “But I’m glad we had this conversation to hear each other’s perspective.”

He nods again, still uncertain. You lean in to give him a reassuring kiss before deciding to move away from him to get back to the living room with the rest. He hands the glasses of water to Walker and Yelena, while you hand the other glasses to Ava and Alexei.

The last one takes a big gulp of his glass, letting out a growl of approval. “Smirnoff! Not that Absolut der’mo!”

“I adore him,” you say to Bucky, letting out a quick chuckle as you watch the guy drink the entire glass of vodka in less than two seconds.

“It’ll pass, trust me,” he mutters back to you.

You gently hit his arm as a way of telling him to not be rude, immediately focusing on the cut on his cheek, dried blood around the wound. “I should clean that.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“I do worry, Bucky,” you insist, patting his shoulder before pointing to one of the two chairs at your small dinner table. “Take a seat. I’ll be right back.”

You excuse yourself to go find the first-aid kit to clean the wound on his face. By the time you get back, the group has already started discussing some sort of strategy regarding some ‘Sentry’ person you don’t know absolutely anything about. Perhaps you’ll ask Bucky to give you a proper update on what the hell this whole thing is all about next time you’re alone.

As obedient as ever, Bucky was already sitting on one of the chairs you previously pointed at before leaving, so you walked over to him to attend to his injury. Even if it was a small, almost insignificant little cut, you wanted to take care of him in any capacity you could.

You were gladly surprised when you feel one of his arms wrapping around you, keeping you close as you stand next to him cleaning the dry blood with a small cotton ball before disinfecting the area, finishing it off with a small bandage above the cut. 

The whole entire time you took care of Bucky’s wound, the group was talking about their strategy. Just listening to them was enough to figure out why Bucky didn’t think they’d stay in touch once it’s time to part ways. More than half of their interactions are more bickering than actual communication. They clash almost constantly and they don’t seem to agree on much. They’re quite honestly a complete mess. But still...even when it’s difficult to see how a group like this could work, they oddly do. There’s just something about them. Perhaps they’re the prime example of how opposites tend to work together perfectly. 

“Done,” you whisper to him, not warning to interrupt their conversation.

“Thanks, doll,” he whispers back, giving you a smile.

After a few more minutes of planning, it was finally time for them to get back out there in hopes to put an end to the threat that seems to loom over New York (and perhaps the entire world). You accompany them to the door, all of them saying their goodbyes to you.

“Thanks for letting us hide here,” Yelena says with a polite smile, offering her hand for a handshake as a way to further prove her gratitude. 

“Oh, it’s really nothing. I’m glad I was able to help out,” you reply, accepting her handshake. “And…you know, good luck. You probably don’t need it, obviously, but just in case…”

“You’re adorable,” Ava comments with a smirk, patting your shoulder as her way of saying goodbye.

Alexei doesn’t even say anything. He just straight up walks towards you and wraps his arms around you, lifting you off the ground as he gives you a tight hug. It certainly takes you by surprise, but you pat his back as a way of returning the hug, hearing how Yelena and Bucky are frantically telling him to put you down immediately.

The three of them are already outside your apartment and it’s time to face Walker. He just says a quick “thank you” before walking towards the others that wait for Bucky in the hallway, knowing you probably don’t even want to address him. For now, you decide not to say anything to him. If you do see each other again, perhaps then you’ll try to figure out if you can look past the awful things he has done.

Now Bucky is the one who stands before you and all you can do is hug him as tight as you possibly can, almost not wanting to let him go. You know he’ll be fine. You know he’ll come back to you. But still, you can’t ignore the knot forming at the pit of your stomach, anxiety and fear consuming you at the thought of something happening to him.

He senses how you feel, hugging you back just as tight. “Please be safe,” he whispers.

You break the hug, looking up at him. “I should be telling you that.”

The comment makes him smile softly because it sounds like you're reprimanding him for what he just said. Immediately after, he's placing a hand at the side of your face, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I’ll be back before you know it, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, still as anxious as you were before. The fact that you still don’t fully know what they’re up against makes your situation worse. If it’s anything remotely similar to an Avenger-like threat, you have plenty of reasons to be afraid. “Just…just take care, please.”

“I will,” he replies, giving you a kiss so sweet and gentle that it practically takes your breath away. He knows you’re worried like never before and he wants to make sure he’s able to give you as much reassurance as he possibly can.

After a few more seconds of him just looking back at you with a soft smile on his face, he moves back from you, knowing he has to leave already.

“Promise you’ll be back soon,” you blurt out as he’s leaving your apartment, still fighting the urge to just yank him back into the apartment to keep him from going back out there.

“I promise you I’ll be back, darling,” he says without any hesitation, knowing he’ll do anything he possibly can to keep his word.

Finally, he closes the door of your apartment, leaving you all alone in there as you try to calm yourself down until everything is back to normal again and he’s here with you. Until he’s back in the safety of the arms of the person he cares most about in this entire world.

You focus on the four empty glasses, the lingering presence of everyone, the trail of dirt their boots left on the floor, the chair Bucky was sitting on just seconds ago...you can only hope they stay safe. Meanwhile, you decide to clean up the living room as a way of distracting yourself.

On the other side of the door, Bucky is turning to look at the group, rolling his eyes when he sees all of them grinning and nodding their hands in approval after witnessing him being so lovey-dovey with you, discovering a sight of him they probably didn’t even know existed.

“Not a single word,” Bucky warns them, immediately walking in between them to get to the elevator.

“What? We can’t say you two looked disgustingly cute back there?” Yelena jokes as she follows after him.

"Who knew that was hiding beneath all that...grumpiness," Ava comments right after.

“I said not a single word,” he repeats, trying to act like he wasn’t feeling terribly embarrassed right now. Or like he didn't find the teasing slightly entertaining. Just slightly.

“I mean, you did look cute,” Walker agrees.

“So cute!” Yelena emphasizes.

Alexei wraps an arm around Bucky’s shoulders, much to his discomfort. “That was adorable. You, my friend, had the eyes of love looking at your zhenshchina!”

“And you had to make it weird,” Ava mutters after Alexei’s comment, just as the elevator doors are closing. translations: der'mo (shit), zhenshchina (woman). again, i apologize if the translation is wrong, i don't speak russian

shall I? SHALL. I.