For Better Or For Worse

Compiled some sketches I’ve done of Astarion and my Tav :) cuties fr

Jackass

Summary : Everyone is horrified that Bucky is flirting with a married woman, but then they realise there's a reason why. 

Pairing : Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x florist!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Secret wife trope. Cursing, Injury. Featuring the Thunderbolts*. Bucky kinda gaslights the entire team. Fluff!!!!

Word count : 3k

Note : The next chapter of spoils of war is almost here, but I just need to go over a couple of paragraphs! In the meantime, enjoy!

The Thunderbolts knew a few undeniable truths about Bucky Barnes.

One: He was grumpy.

Two: He was a private person.

Three: He never, ever let anyone see where he lived.

That last one bothered them the most. They’d pieced together the general area; a quiet neighborhood with old brick buildings, modern cafés, and just enough charm to make it feel… vintage. But no one had ever set foot inside his home, no one had even seen him unlock the door to his sanctuary, since he dodged every casual suggestion to hang out at his place with a variation of “I got plans” or another. And, curiously, every time they stopped for coffee in this part of town, Bucky would mysteriously slip into the tiny flower shop beneath a brick apartment building.

That was odd. No one would’ve guessed that Bucky Barnes even liked flowers.

What was even odder was that this infinitely grumpy, emotionally constipated, “I hate people” supersoldier — would be capable of flirting.

With the florist.

With you.

“Are we seeing this right?” Yelena whispered, elbowing Alexei as they peered through the shop window after Bucky made them wait outside. 

They watched as Bucky stood by the counter, leaning in ever so slightly, a charming grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched you wrap a bouquet.

“He’s smiling,” Alexei muttered, horrified.

Inside, Bucky reached for the bouquet you were tying up, his gloved fingers brushing against yours. You playfully smacked his hand away, laughing. He laughed, too, and that was enough to send Yelena spiraling into an existential crisis.

Yelena squinted. “He’s flirting.”

Alexei frowned. “Bucky does not flirt.”

“I know. That’s why I’m freaking out.”

They watched as you handed him the bouquet, and in return, Bucky gave you a wink. And then he turned, walking out like he hadn’t just transformed into a different person.

That was when Yelena, utterly horrified Yelena, caught a flash of gold on your ring finger. She squinted her eyes. It was unmistakable. “Wait a second—”

As soon as he got back to them, Alexei folded his arms. “You were flirting.”

Bucky scoffed. “I was not.”

“She’s married!” Yelena accused, pointing dramatically. “She had a ring! You flirted with a married woman!”

Bucky didn’t even blink. He simply shrugged, tucking the bouquet carefully under his arm. “I didn’t see a ring.”

“She was literally wearing it—”

“I didn’t see a ring,” Bucky insisted, tugging absentmindedly at the chain around his neck— the one that held his dog tags, hidden under his shirt.

Yelena and Alexei exchanged a deeply disturbed look.

Bucky Barnes was flirting with a married florist.

What was the world coming to?

—

Bucky knew he’d fucked up the second he stepped back into Thunderbolts HQ. 

Alexie had just looked confused, while Yelena had been simmering the entire walk back, her arms crossed so tightly over her chest it was a miracle she hadn’t snapped a rib. 

She lasted exactly two seconds before she exploded. “You are jackass, Barnes!”

Bucky barely had time to sigh before she stomped closer.

“What’s so wrong with what I did?” he muttered, placing the bouquet of flowers in an empty vase

Yelena let out an incredulous laugh, pacing in front of him like a caged tiger ready to strike. “What’s wrong?” she echoed, her accent thickening with rage. “You flirted with a married woman! I should punch you in the face on principle!”

From the lounge, John Walker looked up from whatever government-issued nonsense he was pretending to read. His brows immediately furrowed, his eyes twisting into the signature disapproving dad look he’d perfected. “Wait, what?”

Ava, who had been drinking tea in the corner, raised an eyebrow. “This is scandalous,” she murmured, eyes brightening with intrigue.

Alexei, who was now plopped on the couch like some washed-up, Soviet-era king, said, “If a man had flirted with my wife like that, I would have hunt him down and mount his head on wall.” He crossed his arms, nodding to himself in approval. “As is tradition.”

Bucky scowled. “I wasn’t flirting.”

“Oh?” Yelena snorted, “So you were just undressing her with your eyes for fun, then?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “That’s just how I look at people.”

Alexie shook his head. “So you look at us like that?”

Bucky opened his mouth. Then immediately shut it.

Yelena’s hands curled into fists. “Yeah. Thought so.”

John’s arms crossed over his chest in that holier-than-thou stance that he was so famous for. “Look, man, I’m married. And if someone flirted with my wife, we’d have a problem.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Bucky groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You guys are making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Nothing?” Yelena threw up her hands. “She’s married, Bucky!”

“Okay, even if I was flirting,” Bucky turned to her, exasperated— “I didn’t see a ring.”

Yelena’s hands flew to her head, fingers digging into her scalp like she was resisting the urge to rip out her own hair. “You probably chose to look away!”

John sighed like a disappointed youth pastor. “This is unbelievable.”

“No,” Bucky still insisted, “I didn’t see a ring.”

Yelena’s jaw dropped. “It was a thick gold band, Barnes. How could you not see it?”

Ava, who was clearly enjoying the drama more than anyone, sighed. “That is inappropriate behaviour, Barnes.”

Alexei shook his head again, “You should apologise.”

“I’m not apologising,” Bucky scoffed, “Because I did nothing wrong.”

His fingers toyed absentmindedly with the chain that led to his dog tags, and Yelena immediately locked onto the movement. Every person has a tell, a habit they did when they were nervous. And being a super spy, Yelena knew this was his.

She narrowed her eyes. “You are gaslighting us,” she muttered, pacing again like she was mentally weighing the pros and cons of strangling a super soldier.

“I didn’t see a ring,” Bucky repeated, his voice steady.

“You’re lying,” she snapped.

He shrugged, maddeningly casual in all of this chaos. “Guess we’ll never know.”

Ava laughed cynically. “I can’t tell if you’re a complete scumbag or if this is just really fun for you.”

Bucky just popped a beer from the fridge, flicking the cap off with his metal hand. “Why not both?”

He took a long sip of his beer, completely unbothered.

And maybe, he looked a little bit too smug.

—

Three weeks later, Bucky led Yelena and John on a mission to take down a high-scale arms dealer.

And, as always, the mission had gone sideways.

It was too late for any shops to be open, too late for anyone with a shred of common sense to be out on the streets. 

Yelena was bleeding, pressing a torn scrap of fabric against a deep gash on her arm. John had a busted lip and a slight limp. Bucky was sporting a few cuts and bruises himself, but nothing he hadn’t shaken off a thousand times before.

“Guys,” Yelena managed a grunt, shifting her grip on her makeshift bandage, “we need to get ourselves patched up before one of us drops dead.”

“We ran out of antiseptics back at HQ,” John reminded them.

Yelena groaned, throwing her head back in despair. “So what are we supposed to do?” She gritted out, “Just bleed out in the street like sad little orphans?”

John scowled. “That’s a little dramatic.”

Yelena turned and glared at him. “Your face is dramatic.”

Bucky let out a deep breath through his nose, running a hand along his damp hair. He glanced around the street, making sure they weren’t being followed before whispering to himself, “Guess we’re doing this now.”

Yelena tilted her head. “Doing what?”

Instead of answering, Bucky turned on his heel and started walking.

John and Yelena gave each other a wary look.

“I don’t like when he does that,” John said.

“No one does,” Yelena agreed, but they both followed anyway. 

It didn’t take long for them to recognise the route— ​​It was the neighbourhood where the team usually got coffee.

But Bucky wasn’t heading to the café.

They rounded the corner, and suddenly John stopped dead in his tracks.

It was a closed florist—the very one where Bucky had, allegedly, been trying to charm his way into a married woman’s bed.

To John’s absolute horror, Bucky walked right up to the door and knocked.

“Bucky.” He said, voice strangled. “What the hell is this?”

Yelena blinked. “I don’t think we need to seduce a married florist to get medical supplies.”

Bucky sighed, rubbing his temples like he was already regretting this decision. He turned to them, leveling them both with a look. “Alright, listen up,” he said through gritted teeth. "The secret’s out now, so you two gotta keep your mouths shut.”

John’s brows furrowed. “What secret?”

Before Bucky could answer, the door to the flower shop clicked open.

And there you were, standing in the doorway, wrapped in one of Bucky’s hoodies, looking exactly how he’d expected: exasperated but unsurprised. He knew you’d still be up, cataloguing the latest floral shipment for tomorrow’s arrangements.

The second your eyes landed on a bruised and bloodied Bucky, and flanked by two wounded Thunderbolts, no less—you let out a sigh.

“James,” you said knowingly, your voice laced with fond irritation. “What did you do?”

Yelena and John froze in their tracks.

James?

James?

No one called Bucky by his first name. No one. Not unless they had a death wish.

Bucky, unfazed, just stepped inside. “We ran out of antiseptics, honey.”

Yelena and John exchanged a wide-eyed look.

Honey?

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Again?”

Bucky shrugged like this was a perfectly normal Thursday night occurrence.

You muttered under your breath, “I should’ve known this would happen when I married an ex-assassin.”

Oh.

Yelena’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “Married.” she repeated

John blinked rapidly. “This is why we can never go to your place?”

Bucky could only shrug. Of course it was— they would have seen the evidence of how much love in his home was carved out for just you.

John let out a wheeze.

Yelena pointed between you and Bucky, motioning erratically. “Wait. WAIT. So—so she’s your wife? She married you?”

Bucky nodded. “Yup.”

“Like—actually married?”

“Mhm.”

Yelena gasped, clutching her chest like she’d been personally betrayed. In a way, she had. “And no one knows?”

Bucky thought for a second. “Sam does.”

“And Joaquin,” you added, trying to be helpful.

Bucky nodded. “Right. Joaquin.”

“Oh, and Isaiah and Elijah Bradley.”

“Yeah, they were at the wedding.”

“A teenager knew about this,” John’s eye twitched, “—and we didn’t?”

Bucky could only nod again.

Yelena rubbed a hand down her face, “You gaslit us,” she accused, jabbing a finger at Bucky. “You let us believe you were a homewrecker for weeks—when you were married the whole time?!”

You snorted, glancing at Bucky, who had the audacity to look smug. “Yeah, that sounds like my husband.”

Yelena let out a string of very creative Russian curses.

John looked like he was about to have a stroke. 

“All secrets aside,” you said, welcoming the two disoriented Thunderbolts in and locking the door behind you, “It’s good to finally meet you both.”

John still looked like he was buffering. Yelena, on the other hand, was vibrating with adrenaline, looking like she was trying to solve a conspiracy theory in real time.

“This is—this is insane,” she muttered, pointing aggressively at Bucky, then at you, then back at Bucky. “You’re—you’re so normal.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’d like to think so.”

Bucky just hummed. “She’s perfect.”

Yelena actually sputtered like an old car engine.

John made a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a strangled laugh. This was all too much.

But there wasn’t time to let them spiral further. Bucky, gently nudged you toward the others. “Take care of them first, darling. They’ve got worse injuries.”

You frowned, wanting to protest—because, really, Bucky should always be your first priority—but your husband was nothing if not stubborn. You knew better than to argue when he had that look in his eyes— you knew that fighting him on this would only drag things out longer, and right now, time was precious.

You turned your attention to Yelena and John, motioning for them to follow you deeper into the shop. The scent of lavender, roses, and freshly cut stems—clung to the air as you led them toward the back, where your little work table stood tucked in the corner.

Years of practice had made you quick. You moved with quiet efficiency, gathering supplies from neat shelves: you cut and split an aloe vera plant for burns, grabbed bandages, and a mix of balms you’d perfected over your time tending to Bucky. It wasn’t the kind of sterile, military-grade first aid they were used to, but it would have to do for now.

You started tending to Yelena’s arm, gently dabbing the wound with fresh aloe. She hissed through her teeth before narrowing her eyes at you.

“So how long has this been a thing?” she demanded. Bucky, now leaning lazily against the counter with his arms crossed, barely spared her a glance. “A while.”

John scoffed, “A while?”

You bit back a grin as you smoothed a bandage over Yelena’s arm, “Three years.”

Yelena’s jaw dropped.

“Three—” She turned to Bucky so fast it was a miracle she didn’t give herself whiplash. “You’ve been married for three years?!”

John let out a long, defeated groan,This was simply too much to process. “Fuck’s sake.”

Yelena shook her head. “I thought you were a loner who hated people."

Bucky only shrugged, unbothered. 

You chuckled as you pressed the last piece of medical tape into place on Yelena’s arm. “Alright, you’re done.” Then, glancing at John, you motioned for him to sit. “Your turn.”

John sighed but still plopped down. You took his hand gently, turning it over to examine his bruised knuckles before moving to his busted lip.

Meanwhile, they kept peppering you with questions, barely giving you room to breathe.

“How did you meet?”

“How do you put up with Bucky’s brooding?”

“Does he ever actually smile?”

At that last one, you paused, dabbing at John’s lip carefully. “He smiles all the time.”

John let out a scoff. “No, he doesn’t.”

You glanced over at Bucky, knowing he showed that part of him to you and no one else. “Oh, he does.”

And then, finally, it was Bucky’s turn.

You turned to him, your brows knitting together as you studied the little cuts on his cheek, the dried blood near his brows. He looked a little tired, a little worn around the edges. 

Your fingers found his chin, tilting his face toward you as you inspected the damage. Your touch was so featherlight, so incredibly careful. There was no missing the way your thumb brushed over his cheekbone— how incredibly gentle it was.

“You should’ve let me do you first,” you murmured, half-scolding, half-concerned.

Bucky’s lips curved into a small smile, a flicker of mischief lighting his tired blue eyes. “That’s exactly what you said last night, sweetheart.”

John choked.

Yelena groaned, grabbing the nearest pillow from the nearest chair and hurling it at Bucky’s head. “You two are disgusting.”

Bucky caught the pillow effortlessly, giving her a smug grin before setting it aside. When his eyes found yours again, his shit-eating grin turned… lovely. The tension in his brows eased as you dabbed gently at his cut. 

For all the blood, for all the bruises, you handled him like he was glass.

And then, without thinking, you leaned in.

It was meant to be a brief kiss— a quick reassurance, a way of saying I’ve got you. But the moment your lips brushed his, you couldn’t help but linger.

Your fingers curled instinctively against his chin. His hand found your waist without hesitation, as if he needed you closer. As if the world shrank down to just the two of you. 

John and Yelena exchanged a look, the previous horror of their teammate hiding a secret wife momentarily forgotten because this was… weirdly cute.

You giggled as you pulled away, seeing Bucky looking at you like you hung the moon for him. 

“Anywhere else?” you asked, brushing your thumb over his lips.

Bucky hesitated just for a second. Then, a little sheepishly, he said, “Got a cut on my ribs.”

You exhaled, shaking your head. Of course he did. Before he could argue, you reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged.

“Off,” you said simply.

Bucky huffed but didn’t fight you. He lifted his arms, letting you strip the fabric from his skin, and goddamn.

Bucky, half-naked, was unfairly, ridiculously beautiful. Even now, even after all this time, seeing him like this still knocked the breath from your lungs. His body was a roadmap of battles fought and survived, scars carved into the expanse of his chest and ribs that told stories only he could say. 

John made a strangled sound, somewhere between “Jesus Christ” and “I need to leave the room,” but you ignored him completely. Yelena let out a dramatic sigh and whispered “they are one second away from sucking each other’s face off,” to herself.

You tuned them both out, fingers dragging carefully over Bucky’s ribs, searching for the wound. When you found a thin jagged cut just below his ribs— you sighed softer this time and reached for the aloe.

“You need to stop getting hurt, my love,” you said, smoothing the cool gel over his skin.

Bucky’s voice came quieter. “Lucky I have someone to take care of me, then.”

And that’s when Yelena finally noticed it.

The thin chain around Bucky’s neck—one she’d always assumed was just for his dog tags—held something else, too.

A ring.

A simple wedding band that matched yours, worn from years of resting against his skin.

She blinked, realisation hitting her like a freight train. Oh.

That’s why he always played with it.

Every time Bucky was nervous, every time he was uncertain, his fingers would move to that chain—not just to fiddle with his tags, but to remind himself of you.

Maybe he wasn’t a complete jackass after all.

-end.

Note: Hope this doesn't bite me in the ass when the movie comes out.

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

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

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

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

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

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@samfunko @wh1sp @anonymousreader4d7 @mathcat345 @escapefromrealitylol

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

@cjand10

Faking Injuries & Pure Dedication:

Warnings: Maybe slight spoilers about the living situation.

Summary: You move into the avengers tower and become close with Bucky who doesn’t miss an opportunity to confess his feelings. (Fluff!!)

It was the middle of the night when you moved into the Avengers’ tower with Yelena, Bucky, John, Ava, Alexei, and Bob. Yelena was the only person you knew to call when your relationship ended, and you knew she wouldn’t ask too many questions.

It was only supposed to be temporary until you could find somewhere affordable to live. But none of them minded you living there it was just in your nature to feel like a burden. You pulled your weight as best as possible, making sure to be the primary cook at the house. It only took John one time to burn the food for you to take that initiative.

Bob was helpful around the tower too, you bonded quickly over the fact that you felt like the two who “didn’t belong.” Bob was usually the one who bandaged everyone up and you proceeded to make sure everyone ate, you worked well as a team and the dynamic was more like siblings than anything else.

You did, however, have your sights set on Bucky. Bucky made you feel comfortable, and content and he never pushed too hard. Truthfully, he rarely spoke to you first, and given his history you didn’t blame him for keeping to himself.

You had zero shame following him around the tower like a lost puppy dog knowing he’d never harshly confront it because he found peace within you too. You had spent many nights watching movies together, always in the company of someone else but neither one of you paid them any mind. You had tons of inside jokes, and Bucky knew he could always count on you to stay up late when he couldn’t sleep. He just wasn’t sure if you felt the same way about him just yet.

It was a Thursday night when Bucky got carried into the house by Ava and Alexei, his ankle was swollen two times its normal size and you wanted to rush to his side immediately but hesitated as Bob and Yelena sprung into action.

••••

The next morning Bucky was sprawled out on the couch, two pillows under his ankle, and reading through a book he had no interest in. He sighed out loud more times than you could count and honestly, you couldn’t blame him. Everyone else was out completing their missions and he was stuck in this tower with you.

“Hey Bucky, good morning.” You shuffled over to him, still wearing your wrinkled pajamas and fuzzy slippers.

“Hi. Morning.” He winced as he attempted to scoot over to make room for you to sit.

“No, no! Don’t move!” You sat down by his feet, making sure not to bump into him. “How’re you feeling?” You eyed him up and down, he also had on comfortable clothes which was something you’d rarely ever seen him in. A navy t-shirt and gray sweatpants had never looked so good.

“Useless” he frowned, he hadn’t noticed the loving way you were looking at him just yet. “This has never really happened to me before. Normally the serum just kind of…” he paused for a second to look at you, noticing now how you had been looking him up and down.

When he stopped speaking you made eye contact, smiling back at him. Both of you felt your cheeks grow warm.

“Umm—well, Yelena said in a few hours you’d probably be completely fine right?”

Bucky nodded, wondering to himself why you were outright concerned. He had hoped he was reading this situation correctly, but wasn’t sure how to get it to progress. He didn’t say anything more and you awkwardly sat there beside him for a moment picking at your nails.

“Are you hungry? I can make us breakfast” You were ecstatic at the chance to spend time alone with him without the noise of the group.

“Wait, where’s Bob?” He looked around, wondering why he hadn’t heard him in the room just yet.

Your face dropped, wondering why it was such an issue that it was just the two of you.

“He’s still asleep, and probably will be for a while” Your tone shifted into disappointment and Bucky felt it immediately.

“I just wanted to make sure we were alone is all” he spoke softly, letting you know he wanted the same thing. “Can I help? I feel like you do all the cooking.”

“That’s probably because I actually do all the cooking” you giggled before standing up from the couch. “You really don’t have to help me though, you’re out of commission right now.”

“That’s actually really ableist of you to say” he teased earning a shocked wide-eyed look from you. A chuckle erupted from the both of you, the mood lightening at his joke.

“At least let me sit with you at the kitchen island. I’ve been told I stare but I like to say I observe.” He teased as he stood up from the couch.

“Do you need to lean on me? I can help you walk over there Bucky.”

Bucky shook his head, he stood up from the couch and walked with you to the kitchen.

“What if I told you that I’m completely fine and that I definitely didn’t need to stay home today?” He sat down on the bar stool in the kitchen as you started to take ingredients out of the fridge.

You turned to him and he had a giant smirk on his face, his blue eyes nearly taking your breath from your lungs.

“James Barnes— what are you saying?” You giggled as you stood across the island with your arms tightly crossed against your chest.

“Real answer?” He walked over to your side of the island, nervously shuffling around the ingredients you set down on the granite kitchen island.

“Of course.”

Bucky was never good at being vulnerable, but you had always provided a safe space for him so he thought it was now or never.

“I just really wanted to spend time with you alone today.”

You felt like the world stopped and Bucky couldn’t read your reaction, he started growing nervous at the thought of you rejecting him but he couldn’t find any more words to say so he sat there in silence.

“With me?” Your eyes softened and he realized then that you might just feel the same way about him as he did you.

“I mean yeah, you’re pretty much my favorite person” his voice came out soft and mumbled but you knew by now to pay close attention to the things he said or you’d miss them.

“Bucky, You’re my favorite person too” You took a step toward him and he wrapped his arms around you, wasting no time picking you up and placing you on the counter.

He placed his left hand under your chin to kiss you, the metal was cool against your skin making you shudder slightly. Your legs wrapped around his torso instinctively.

You had always wondered what it would be like to kiss him, and it was better than anything you imagined.

When the two of you came up for air, you saw a genuine smile on his face. It was rare, and it felt nice knowing you were the reason for it.

“Let me make you breakfast for a change” he patted your thighs with his hands, squeezing them softly before he helped you off the kitchen island.

“Only if you promise not to ruin my new pans” you giggled as you sat down across from him.

“I’m offended you’d think I’d even dream of doing that” he laughed knowing you were referring to the one whole time John Walker made food.

You watched Bucky as he made the two of you an omelet, he seemed so at peace which was abnormal for you to see and him to feel.

“Can I ask you something?” You spoke softly as you tried not to startle him. He turned to you with a hand on his hip and spatula in hand, “yes?”

“How long have you… well….” You were trying and failing to try to word this question correctly.

“Wanted to be with you?” He chuckled, plating your omelet and handing it over to you before sliding some hot sauce your way.

“You want to be with me?” You teased knowing how surprisingly easy it was to make him blush.

“I faked an injury so we could spend time together, isn’t it obvious?” his face deadpanned.

“Does everyone else know you were faking?” You cocked an eyebrow at him before taking a bite of your omelet.

“Yeah, they all knew what I was up to.” he let out a loud laugh as he sat down beside you, there was no use in lying now.

“I love the dedication” you smirked, moving your chair closer to his as you kissed his cheek.

He had only hoped that in no time you’d also love him too.

It Was Just Like A Movie

Pairing: Actor!Joaquin Torres x Fem!Actress!Reader

Summary: You were each other’s Co-stars and bestest friends. But, you loved loved him. He loved loved you, as well. What was the problem? Everyone knew this except the two of you.

Warnings: Actors!AU, Best friends to Lovers, Cursing, Mentions of Stalking by fans, Talks about feet (not in a gross way!), small foot injury, Pining, So much Fluff, Slight Angst, Yearning, Drinking, These two are oblivious dumbasses, Kissing, heavily inspired by my babies tom and zendaya and their adorable interviews during no way home press tour . This one is really long. There will be a part two, hehe.

AN: i was rewatching all the tz interviews and i could only think about joaquin. enjoy. That Paris interview in this is word for word, bar for bar, taken from tom and z’s interview. So full credits to them. PS: assume the movie they are doing press for is something like We Live In Time.

If someone asked you, 'What's the best part of being an actor?' you would immediately respond with 'Getting to know Joaquin Torres'. You were forever grateful for getting cast in that Netflix show 3 years ago because that show introduced you to the silliest and prettiest sweetest boy in this whole world.

By the time the show was over, both of you were attached to the hip. Everyone would keep insisting that the two of you would end up together but to protect your friendship, you turned a blind eye to them. Worst part of it all were the fans. You loved them, truly. But the endless edits, messages and tweets that they would make about the two of you was something that always gave you goosebumps- out of fear or out of excitement, or maybe both. They even had a whole hashtag for your 'ship' name. It was terrifying. You did not want Joaquin to be weirded out and to distance himself from you, like it happens to some in the industry after the fans became more invasive.

It escalated when some fans would stalk you both and psychoanalyse your friendship. They would post sneaky pictures of you two hanging out and you freaked out over it every time. You were not expecting Joaquin to react with the same air of nonchalance. As if this wasn't making your heart fall down to your stomach. As if it wouldn't break you if he walked away. He was your rock, your family, in this fucked up industry. The two of you have been through everything together. Even your families were a big joint family at this point. So yeah, you were afraid of losing your best friend- your soulmate -over some stupid fan theories.

You chose to lock your feelings far away and told yourself to be normal around him. But how could you do that when he was so charming and so damn clingy? His day wasn't complete without giving you a thousand hugs and cuddles per day. Your stomach erupted in butterflies every single time. You swore that the hugs were longer and longer each day and they left you feeling giddy throughout the day.

He was a professional yapper so how could you be normal around him when he had to tell you every single detail from his day. If it wasn't in person, then it was over a call and if it wasn't over a call, then your phone would blow up with his texts and audio messages all day long. His talkative nature was a blessing for you because 1. you were an amazing listener and an introvert and 2. you loved listening to his smooth, slightly husky, low pitched voice. It was like music to your ears and you would never admit to his face that you loved being the only person he would tell all these details to. Even if your peers teased you every time they saw Joaquin was calling you, you would never miss his call.

How could you be normal around him when his beautiful eyes would look at you like you hung the moon and stars in the sky? It was probably the perpetual look of wonder in his eyes because he was so passionate about everything he did. But you swore he looked at you with a different twinkle in his eyes. Or maybe it was your poor heart's wishful thinking.

Another reason why you couldn't be normal around Joaquin Torres was his endless charm and sweet nature, especially towards you and especially during interviews. He was either a really smooth fucker or he was putting up a show for everyone because boy was he ten times more clingy and attentive in front of the cameras. He would flirt with you. It was almost like he wanted to give the fans some content to talk about. He would make a joke, lean closer to you or flirt with you and your entire face would be warm which you'd try to cover up with overly dramatic laughter.

You were sure of one thing, Joaquin Torres would be the cause of your death (biggest heartbreak) one day.

-

The two of you had been cast in a new romantic-drama and were currently on the press tour for the movie.

Currently, you were in Paris and the two of you were sitting in a room with a single seat in the middle and a screen in front of it. The seat was small. Like, your-thighs-would-be-touching-Joaquin's- small. You saw that and damn near fainted. You don't think you could handle sitting so close to him.

So, here you were, sitting extremely close to Joaquin, trying to focus on the questions appearing on the screen before you. You kept your hands in lap and tried to lean away from him. But he would have none of that and leaned even closer to you. You have never wanted to smack him in the head more than you did in this moment.

You swallowed the butterflies that had crawled up your throat and clenched your fists before reading out the question. "What do you have in common with your characters?", you read aloud and turned to face him.

He was wearing a lovely white collared shirt with diamond shaped lines on it, which framed his broad shoulders nicely, paired with black straight pants and his favorite golden necklace. His curls were gelled back to look perfectly quaffed. Oh yeah, did you mention that every time he wore jewelry you wanted to pull him closer by his necklace, grab his face and kiss him stupid? Yeah.

He looked at you and observed your face for a second before you broke off his stare. You looked so pretty, he thought.

"What do you have in common with your characters? Answer it!", you smiled at him and gestured at the screen with your hand.

Joaquin blinked before turning his attention back to the screen.

"Uh- he is- devilishly handsome-", he began while clapping his right fist against the palm of his left hand.

You let out a laugh and nudged him.

"He is incredibly brave, charming, charismatic!", he listed off with a smile in his voice.

"We're played by the same person-", you added in while giggling.

He continued his actions. "-we're played by the same person, funny!", he finished smugly. You laughed and nudged him with your shoulder.

Before you could say anything he continued, "Yours is- she's a weirdo-", he began counting off on his fingers and you burst out in giggles and leaned against him.

"She's a loser! She is...sassy!", he counted off in a teasing manner.

You chuckled and held his hands to stop him. "Shut up! Next question!"

What you didn't notice, was the way he looked at you when you laughed. Like there was nobody else in the room. Like his entire heart was pouring out of his eyes. Like he wanted to freeze time in this moment so that you could hold his hand a little longer.

-

Joaquin Torres never knew he needed a guardian angel. He thought he was doing just fine in his life. Then, he got cast in a Netflix show and he met you. The day that he met you, he was sure his heart was going to burst out of his chest. You were a shy thing, never speaking to anyone unless spoken to, respectful and oh so sweet. Always ready to help people out. And oh, you looked like an angel. Your eyes were always shining so bright- as if you held a thousand stars in them. You had the most breathtaking smile that made his lungs give out. He knew he was goner the moment you flashed him that smile.

It didn't take time for Joaquin to fall for you and for you to become his best friend. Although, every time you called him that, it felt like someone had stabbed him straight through the heart but he steadied himself and stomped on his feelings. Because he valued your presence in his life more than he valued his feelings for you. If you wanted to be his friend, then that's what he was going to be. A good friend, a loyal friend, as long as you wanted.

Joaquin thought you were his guardian angel because he liked himself better when he was with you and because you were there to hold him when nobody was. He learned to be kinder to himself and others because of you. You validated his feelings and lifted him up whenever he faced any failure. He wanted to be as graceful as you are. He was in love with your generosity, your advocacy for the right things and your ability to feel and express every emotion at the fullest. He could write novels and poems for and on you. He loved you. Completely.

The two of you were always attached by the hip. Hanging out after filming or hanging out at each other's houses was soon a part of your routines. He couldn't go without talking to you for even a day. It was his most favorite thing in the whole world because you were such a good listener. Always enthusiastic about his stories and lending him a shoulder to lean on. He knew he wasn't exactly subtle, either. Joaquin was naturally a clingy person. He loved people and he loved being close to his loved ones but he especially loved being clingy with you. The two of you fit like puzzle pieces and your body would automatically make space for him even if you weren't big on physical touch. Holding your hands, hugging you, cuddling you while he slept, leaning against you during interviews and the lingering hugs when you were separated for a long time. He wanted to hold you close and melt in your soft, loving arms forever. He didn't give a damn about anybody watching the two of you or your peers teasing you both.

He knew it was serious for him the day he brought you home to meet his mom, grandmother and sister. And it was the best decision he ever took in his life because they adored you like you were their own. Every time you were over at his house, the three of them would give Joaquin knowing looks but he told them not to think much about it because you didn't like him like that. To make matters worse, your family had basically adopted him and it made him dizzy at how domestic all of it looked like.

One day, you showed him what the fans had been talking about the two of you. You showed him the countless edits, tweets, texts and posts and he was shocked. Because as he was looking through those edits, he thought- was he always this obvious? And how could you not see that? But, he did it unknowingly because he was just that comfortable with you. It was making him overwhelmed. He could see that you were panicking. You had told him that you don't want this to ruin your friendship and he promised you that it wouldn't. His heart was in a million pieces but he couldn't bear to see you sad. So he did what he did best- act cool and unbothered about it. Every time he came across something on his social media accounts, he just ignored it. Acted like he didn't see any of it. Just to keep himself sane.

And then some fans started stalking the two of you every time you were together and that pissed him off. Joaquin wasn't one to get ticked off easily. But when it came to your safety, he was lethal. He saw the sneaky pictures some fans had taken of the two of you and his first thought was to protect you. So, he subtly appointed security that would take care of the both of you and kept checking on you every day. Joaquin continued to act coolly as if nothing happened only for your sake and because if he didn't, he was going to end up doing something embarrassing and drive you away from him. And he wasn't sure if his vulnerable heart could handle that. You were his guardian angel, he was better with you and intended to keep it that way forever.

-

The two of you were back in the States and you had an interview with IMDB today. You and Joaquin were wearing matching outfits. He was wearing a satin shirt that was dusky in colour with some dark brown pants. His hair was perfectly quaffed again and he was wearing that goddamn golden necklace, again. You were matching him in a cute dress with ruffles on the bottom, it was also dusky in color and had a colorful flower embroidery on the chest. You paired it with maroon heels and some golden half-hoop earrings with your hair styled in a barbie-like high ponytail.

The two of you had clicked loads of pictures before leaving for the interview and he had posted a selfie of you two on his Instagram story- you were pressing your cheeks to each other and cheesing at the camera. He had captioned it 'twinning with da bestie' and had tagged you in it.

Your cheeks were red and your heart was in pain at the same time. You didn't dare to open your Instagram the whole day.

"So, I saw the trailer and it really broke my heart. They're so sweet to each other. The two of you are best friends in real life, how was it like acting like a married couple and how did you prepare for the emotional scenes? Did it feel personal?", the interviewer asked the two of you.

You let out a deep sigh and Joaquin 'oof'ed.

"Wow, that's a pretty deep question..", Joaquin trailed off and chuckled weakly.

It was really difficult. Both of you knew how emotionally taxing it was to film this movie and you were glad that you had each other.

"Yeah, oh man, there were days where it felt like...i had no tears left to cry and there were days where my eyes were swollen from crying so much", you admitted.

Joaquin nodded in agreement.

"I remember requesting for a 15 minute break after this particularly rough scene. She was completely spent. Her face was red from crying, her throat was scratchy because we were shouting at each other, and her eyes were completely bloodshot. At one point i just stopped and took a pause because it was hurting me to watch her get so worked up. We almost never fight, and after a point, it felt like we were actually fighting, you know?", Joaquin explained.

You turned to look at him in awe. "Wait, I thought.. that was just a cut...I don't remember any of that...", you trailed off, surprised. You were truly out of it that day. All the screaming, crying, had gotten to you and you had just broken down mid scene. Watching Joaquin get so angry and raise his voice at you had hurt you for real. You thought a break was announced because the director asked for it. You had no idea Joaquin requested it for you? Your stomach felt like it was doing jumping jacks.

Joaquin turned to look at you fondly. "Yeah, you were so immersed into the scene, (nickname), that you didn't realise you were hyperventilating. I could see your hands shaking so I asked for a break and we helped you wind down. She was fucking brilliant in the scene, though", he brought his hand behind your chair to rub your shoulder blades gently and confessed to the interviewer.

Your breath hitched and your eyes filled with tears. He was so attentive and in tune with your emotions, it was painful. You gave him a grateful smile before clearing your throat and sniffled. "What the hell, you're ruining my make-up, 'Quino."

The interviewer smiled and extended a tissue box which Joaquin took in his hands and handed you a tissue. You thanked him softly and wiped your tears and he looked at you with concern. He leaned his head closer to you and whispered, "you okay?", his brown eyes blown wide and something else shining in them.

You looked at him with teary eyes and nodded your head yes. He flashed you a sweet smile and returned the tissue box before sitting up straight. "You see how difficult it was?!", he pointed at you.

All three of you chuckled at that.

"Honestly, I could do this because of him. He was there to catch me when i fell and he offered me support on my toughest days, like he's been doing always", you responded sincerely and patted Joaquin's back gently, "And to answer your question, yes, it definitely felt personal because the fights, the trauma shared by the two of them, was something we would unknowingly carry home. But, this guy would take me to eat ice-cream after filming and that was the highlight of my day", you finished while chuckling.

Joaquin let out a bashful laugh and shook his head. His back felt warm where your hand was still resting on it.

-

After the interview was over, the two of you sat in the van to go back to the hotel you were staying in. This was the last interview of this press tour and you were so glad that it was over, although you would miss working with Joaquin again.

You let out a long, tiring sigh. "Finally we're done for the day, I just wanna crash on my bed right now", you groaned while removing your heels and stretching your toes. Your toes were red and you could feel a shoe bite on the back of your heel.

Joaquin looked at your toes and winced. "You should've carried some flats, (nickname). You wanna stop by the medical store?"

"No, it's alright. I'll treat them at the hotel", you reassured him with a soft smile. He smiled back at you and leaned back in his seat.

You looked away to gently massage your feet and you missed the way Joaquin was looking at you.

He was observing the way your hair fell softly by your shoulders, your soft arms, the way your perfume smelled like something floral that was so addictive that he has to clench his hands together to stop leaning in and taking a sniff. Joaquin clenched his jaw tightly and looked out of the window.

You leaned back in your seat and thought back to his confession today.

“‘Quino?”

He quickly turned his head to look at you and hummed for you to continue.

“Thank you”, you confessed sincerely and gave him a warm smile. His face twisted in confusion. You chuckled quietly.

“For looking after me on set, thank you.”

His face broke out in a radiant smile and ducked his head.

“Oh, come on. That’s my job as your best friend. I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”,he conceded and nudged you lightly.

You gave him a tentative smile. Your heart twisted painfully at the word ‘best friend’. “Yeah, I know. Right back at you.”

The two of continued to stare at each other intently before you cleared your throat.

Joaquin looked away, his cheeks dusted with pink, but you were too busy hiding your own warm cheeks to notice that.

“Uh- you’re coming to the wrap party, right?”

You made a face. This was the fifth wrap party you’ve had since you finished filming the movie. You were tired and you just wanted a vacation.

“No. Don’t make that face, (Name). You can’t ditch me like that!”, Joaquin chided you.

You rolled your eyes.

“Joaquin. This is the fifth party. What is so different about this one? I’m so tired please leave me alone”, you whined, dragging out the ‘e’.

He gaped at you. “Dude. You literally promised me that you were attending. I cancelled all my plans for you!”

“Oh, shut up. You’re the biggest social butterfly alive, you’ll be fine without me”, you waved him off.

A slight hurt look crossed his eyes. “Okay, no. That’s not true. And, it’s your party too! You’re literally the lead of the film.”

You side eyed him and ignored the ‘lead’ comment. “You always end up yapping to everyone in the room and I’m sitting in a corner with a drink clutched in my hands, waiting for you to come back. Hell no, I’m not going.”

His face softened. He knew you hated these parties and only attended for his sake. He felt bad that you felt neglected by him.

“Hey, no. I’m sorry. I’ll stick by you, I promise. Come with me?”, he widened his eyes and pouted at you. You don’t even think he was making that face knowingly.

“You’ll sit by me and inform me about wherever you’re going?”

He nodded.

“And you’ll let me leave the moment I tell you that I wanna go home?”

He nodded twice.

“And you won’t force me to dance?”

He made a face before begrudgingly nodding his head yes.

Joaquin loved dancing. And he loved dancing with you even more. But you only danced when the two of you were alone and he tried his best to get you on the dance floor with him.

You observed him for a second and his jutted out his bottom lip before taking your hand in both of his. You rolled your eyes. “Okay.”

Joaquin’s eyes widened. “Really?!”

You huffed out a laugh. “Yes, dumbass.”

He flashed you his gorgeous smile before holding your chin in his hand. He titled your face slightly and gave you a soft kiss on your cheek, before quickly pulling away.

You froze.

Did he just…kiss you?? Joaquin Torres kissed you. The man that you were stupidly in love with for the past 3 years…..just kissed you. And he was acting like nothing happened. What the fuck.

If you had the ability to listen to people’s heartbeats, you would’ve heard that Joaquin’s heart was beating so fast that you’d think he was going to pass out. Blood rushed to his face and his ears and he was so sure that his entire face was the same shade as a tomato.

You swallowed thickly and luckily you didn’t have to say anything further as the van approached your hotel.

You hastily put on your heels before clearing your throat. Unfortunately for your current situation, your rooms were on the same floor. So you had to wait for him and behave normally.

Joaquin turned to look at you with longing in his eyes. The two of you got out of the car and you stumbled a little because of your sore feet. Joaquin quickly stood next to you and steadied you with his hands on your shoulders. People were definitely going to talk but you were too distracted to think about all that right now.

“Careful. Here, I’ll help”, he offered you gently and helped you walk. You took a few steps further and let out a series of winces. It hurt. The skin of your heel was completely red and agitated.

Joaquin stopped immediately. “Alright, remove those and give ‘em to me”, he huffed out.

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “You’re joking? You’re gonna make me walk on this nasty concrete?”

He looked at you and raised his eyebrows. “Should I carry you, then?”, he sassed back.

You shot him an irritated look. As you were about to bend down to remove your heels, he dropped down to crouch by your feet and carefully, oh so gently, removed the right heel before slowly guiding your foot to… are those his shoes?

"Wait-Joaquin, what are you doing?! How are you going to wal-"

"Just shut up and wear them, babe." Babe?!

Before you could even have a reaction to that, he had slipped on his shoes on your feet and he stood up, holding both of your heels in one of his hands. You looked at him, standing next to you in his sock-clad feet, not caring about how many people would notice that. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders to help you walk and both of you went to the reception to collect your key cards.

Joaquin walked you to your room and patiently waited for you to unlock it. You scanned the key card and opened door. As soon as you entered your room, you removed his shoes while gesturing at him to wear them and took your heels back from him. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he wore his shoes and awkwardly stood outside the door, his hands deep in his pockets.

You cleared your throat and broke the silence. "Well, goodnight, Joaquin. I'll...see you at the party." A look of hurt flickered across his eyes but he blinked it away quickly and nodded his head.

“Okay. Night, (Name)”, he spoke quietly, as if his voice was stuck in his throat. You were so close, yet you were suddenly so far.

You gave him a half-smile before slowly closing the door.

Joaquin waited outside your door for while and felt a dull ache in his chest. He couldn’t believe that he had fucked up so bad. What was he thinking? Kissing you like that? And- calling you babe?! He shut his eyes in embarrassment and clenched his hand into a fist. His throat was choked up with unshed tears and it made him feel extremely uncomfortable so he rushed to his room and decided to sleep over it.

You, on the other hand, were confused between crying or laughing because not only had Joaquin kissed you on the cheek but he had called you babe? Maybe he was just being friendly. He was clingy after all. But...no it can't be. He can't be interested in you like that.

So, you decided on crying. Your chest hurt with longing. He was so close yet so far. And you weren't sure if you were ready to face him again tomorrow.

-

Next morning, you woke up feeling worse. You were anxious and restless and you were dreading going out of your room. So you called up your manager and told her that you'd be having your breakfast in your room today and that they should go ahead. She asked you what should they tell Joaquin and you paused. You were so close that both of your teams knew to keep you posted about each other when you were working together. You just told her that you will handle that on your own. And approximately fifteen minutes later, your phone lit up with text notifications.

Quino🦁: why are u not at breakfast?

You sighed before typing out a response that would convince him.

You: i just need to be alone for sometime

Quino🦁: are you okay? U want me to come over?

You: No..u know i need to wind down before going to a party...ill be fine dw 👍

Quino🦁: Ok.. Text me if u need anything, (Nickname)

You: yes i will, torres

Your phone pinged again and it was another text from Joaquin. He had sent a selfie of him holding up his plate in front of the camera and he was pouting into the camera with the caption 'miss u'. You let out a giggle. "So stupid..", you trailed off with a smile on your face. You responded with an 'aww' and smiled at the photo before remembering whatever happened the night before. You groaned and fell back into the pillows before getting up and finally starting your day. The party would start in the evening and before that you had to do a small photoshoot for a brand collaboration and this meant that thankfully, you were busy for the whole day before you had to face Joaquin again.

Joaquin couldn't help but feel uneasy throughout the day. This was the longest he’d gone without talking to you. From the moment he didn't see you at breakfast, he knew something was up but he also knew that you needed your space sometimes so he let you be. But then he overheard your manager talk about a photoshoot and his day just got worse. The two of you departed awkwardly last night and now he couldn't see you until the evening. He was starting to get antsy. Joaquin thought of shooting you a text but decided against it, not wanting to disturb you. So he waited until you would see him later this evening.

-

Finally, it was evening and it was time for the party. You were going to the party straight from your photoshoot so you did your make up and outfit at the set itself. You had decided to wear a cute, sleeveless red dress and the sleeves thinned at the back into straps, with a big light pink bow joining them at the waist, paired with light-pink box heels that wouldn't agitate your feet further. Your hair was sleeked back into a bun with a few strands of hair curled at the front, with minimal makeup.

In your rush, you had forgotten to text Joaquin and as you were about to leave the set, you collided with a body. You stumbled back before an arm shot out to catch you by your waist.

“Shit-‘Quino?”, you asked, your heart beating faster because of the scare of almost falling on the hard concrete and because it was Joaquin who had saved you from falling. “What are you doing here?”

Joaquin was too busy admiring you to answer your question. You looked so pretty. Like a doll. His mouth was open slightly as he carefully took in your features.

“Hello? Joaquin?”, you waved a hand in front of his face. He snapped out of his stupor and pulled you up carefully. He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his curls.

“Uh- you weren’t answering my texts…got a lil worried and thought I’d come over to check on you”, he admitted in a low voice and scratched the back of his head.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I was running late so I decided to get ready here at the set itself. Didn’t get a chance to check my phone”, you responded sheepishly.

It was then you finally got a good look at him. He was wearing a white tee inside a black jacket and he had paired it with some black pants. His hair was free of any product so his curls were more pronounced. And he was wearing his glasses. You loved it when he wore his glasses because they made him look even more prettier. He forgot them way too often for someone who couldn’t see without them.

“You’re finally wearing your glasses!”, you smiled at him and pointed a finger towards his glasses.

His face broke out in a smile.

“You know I can’t see properly at night. Forget about me though, you…you look like a Barbie, (Nickname)”, his voice took on a soft, velvety tone.

Your cheeks felt warm and you ducked your head.

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious! Be ready ‘cus you’re gonna get compliment after compliment the whooooole night!”

You shoved his shoulder and laughed. “Alright, that’s enough. We’re getting late, let’s move!”

Both of you were just glad that everything was normal in between you two now. The two of you sat in the car and left for the venue. The car ride was thankfully uneventful aa the two of you scrolled through your phones and shared memes. The car finally reached the venue and you got out of it with Joaquin’s help. He offered you his arm and you settled your hand in the crook of his arm.

The party had a small photo call with a carpet. One of the producers had thrown the party so there were at-least 20 paparazzis present and they were shouting and yelling at you two for a picture. You and Joaquin clicked a few pictures on the carpet and entered the venue.

The moment you entered the venue, you saw Sam Wilson- a mutual friend of you two and a fellow actor. He was especially fond of you and Joaquin- he was like your surrogate father. He had discovered Joaquin and that’s how you know each other. Over time, the three of you got so close that you had a fixed hang out at the end of every month/week. Sam spotted the two of you and came over to give you both a bear hug.

“My movie stars!”, Sam said gleefully and hugged you two tightly.

You giggled and hugged him back. “Hi, Sammy!”

“Hey, man”, Joaquin chuckled and patted Sam’s back.

Sam pulled back and narrowed his eyes at you two. “Y’all are late. The time was 4pm not 5pm. A whole hour late!”

Joaquin looked at you smugly and crossed his arms.

You flashed him a sheepish smile. “Uh- I was busy with a photoshoot so I was running a little late. Sorry!”

Sam squinted his eyes at you and let out a big laugh. “Ah, You’re forgiven. This is your party anyways. Come on, everyone’s waiting for you!” He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and dragged the two of you in the packed room. “And I’ve got a surprise for you”, Sam nudged you and diverted your attention towards the bar.

And the first person you spotted was- “Bucky!”, you took off towards him to give him a big hug.

James ‘Bucky’ Barnes was another fellow actor and Sam’s best friend (you lowkey believed they were in love with each other.) Sam randomly introduced the two of you to Bucky and you quickly became friends. He was one of the finest actors you'd ever seen onscreen but his off camera persona was like a complete 180 degrees. He connected with you more than Joaquin because he thought Joaquin was way too much for him. (you believed that he was actually fond of Joaquin but he loved to bully him for fun because Joaquin was intimidated by him.)

Bucky was a huge grump and found it difficult to be friends with people because of his social anxiety. How did him and Sam become friends? You have no idea. But it seemed like the only people he put up with were you and Sam. And he had a major case of the Resting Bitch Face so people were afraid to approach him. But once they got past his initial awkwardness and intense stares, he was really sweet and helpful. You absolutely loved talking to him and spending time with him, even though the two of you were completely different than the other. He was a little old fashioned but you loved taking interest in his stories and he adored you for that. He even jokingly called you his daughter once.

Bucky turned around and his face lit up. "Hi, doll", he replied happily and gathered you in his arms. His arms went around your back and he leaned his chin on top of your head.

You broke the hug and held him by the forearms. "How are you? I haven't seen you in three months!", you pouted.

Bucky let out a chuckle. "You were the busy one, Miss worldwide!"

You blushed and slapped his arm gently. "Shut up. It's so good to see you again, I missed you", you lowered your voice, "And I bet Sam did too", you winked at him.

He groaned loudly and lightly covered your face with his palm. "You're annoying as hell, you know that?"

You let out a gleeful laugh and tried to bite his hand. He yelped and took his hand away.

"Oh, and what about you, huh? Pining over your own best friend in front of the whole world?"

You paused and narrowed your eyes at him. "Shut up, James."

Bucky hummed sarcastically and leaned back against the bar counter. "You're telling me to shut up right now but you're gonna come back and cry to me about your silly little crush."

You ducked your head and frowned.

Bucky saw this nudged you gently.

“Hey, why don’t you just tell him?”

You whipped your head up and widened your eyes at him. “No way. Why would I ever tell him? It’s gonna ruin-”

“-your friendship, I know. But you’re the smartest person I know, doll. Are you sure he doesn’t love you back?”

You furrowed your eyebrows and opened and closed your mouth like a fish. There’s no way Joaquin returned your feelings, right? But…no. There’s just no way.

In the distance, Joaquin was watching the entire exchange with a longing and adoring look in his eyes. He didn't notice Sam look at him and shake his head in disbelief.

"Man, the whole room can see you drooling right now. Just tell her how you feel, Torres", Sam exasperated.

"W-what?", Joaquin sputtered. It's not like Sam didn't know about his feelings for you. But saying it out loud made Joaquin shudder.

Sam scoffed. "What? You think we don't see it? Everybody knows, man. And how do ya'll not see the way you look at each other?"

Joaquin froze and felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. "What do you mean?"

Sam let out a pitiful sigh. "Joaquin, she loves you. It's in her eyes. How did you not notice it?", he explained to Joaquin gently and clapped a hand on Joaquin's shoulder.

Joaquin's ears were ringing. He was going to faint. There's no way that you love him and he didn't notice. There's just no way that you love him.

"No...Sam, she doesn't-", Joaquin's voice cracked. His eyes were shining with unshed tears. He swallowed thickly to get rid of them and shook his head in disagreement.

Sam softened his eyes and gave him a gentle smile. "Man, she looks at you like you saved her life. The other day, she told me she carried a knee brace with her because your knee injury troubled you sometimes and in case you needed one if you forgot to bring yours. She carries extra snacks because you get hungry in between takes. Did you know she learned how to make caldo de pollo from your mom incase you were sick and away from home?"

Joaquin's eyes widened and he snapped his head to look at Sam. You learned his mom's recipe? Of his favourite dish? "What?", he whispered.

Sam smiled at him. "Yeah. You're an idiot, Torres. I could see that, the fans could see that, hell, I am sure your families saw it too. How did you not notice?"

Joaquin's mouth fell open and he turned his head to look at you. You were still chatting with Bucky, your face changing a million expressions per second and oh, you looked like an angel. His angel. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked back at Sam.

"I'm scared, Sam", he said in a meek and quiet voice.

Sam looked at him with sympathy. "I know. But, you gotta tell her someday. I promise you, she's waiting for you to make a move”, he squeezed Joaquin’s shoulder in encouragement.

Joaquin took a deep breath in and tried to keep his tears at bay. He was going to be a mess. And if you walked out, he was going to be an even bigger mess in front of everyone. He weakly nodded his head at Sam and made his way over to you. It’s now or never. And whatever happens, he’d try to hold onto you until he gave up his last breath.

Your back was facing him and Bucky was the first one to notice him approach you. Bucky nudged you and you turned around. Joaquin’s breath stilled. You looked so gorgeous in this lighting. His hands twitched with the want to hold you close.

Bucky cut through the tension first.

“Hi, Torres.”

Joaquin snapped his eyes over to Bucky and cleared his throat.

“H-Hi, Bucky. How are you?”, he held out a hand. Bucky shook his hand firmly and nodded at him, his ocean blue eyes cutting through his skin.

“Good. You did a good job in the movie. And I hope this one didn’t give you much trouble”, Bucky joked.

You punched him in his bicep. “Why don’t you shut up, Barnes. It’s bedtime for you anyways.”

Both of them laughed before Joaquin finally got the courage to speak up.

“Mind if I steal her for a minute?”

Bucky gave you a knowing look. “Yeah, of course. She’s all yours.”

Both of your cheeks tinged with pink.

Joaquin shoved his hands in his pockets and waited for you to join him. You gave a parting look to Bucky and walked away with Joaquin.

Sam joined Bucky at the bar counter and leaned back, watching the two of disappear into the crowd. Bucky leaned his head to the right. “You think it’s happening tonight?”

“Oh definitely”, Sam replied with confidence.

-

Joaquin’s heart was going to explode. His blood pressure must be high as fuck right now. He was this close to fainting. But he pushed that down and gently grabbed your hand in his to guide you through the crowd. Your hand was so soft, he was going to cry. It was getting too crowded and it was making him feel more cornered so he came up with an idea.

“Should we get outta here?”, he suddenly turned around and spoke in your ear.

Your eyes widened and you leaned in close to speak by his ear. “We just came here and you already wanna sneak out of our own party? Are you crazy?!”

He leaned back and gave you a smirk that screamed trouble. Joaquin Torres was the only person in this world who could make you sneak out and break rules. He guided you out of the venue and called for your car. He opened the door and helped you settled down before walking around the car and sitting by the steering wheel. He started the car and drove off before anybody else noticed the two of you.

“Joaquin! Where are we going?”, you asked him while giggling.

He chuckled and glanced at you before turning his attention back to the front. “Be patient, angel. You’ll find out soon.”

Your cheeks heated up. His voice turned so soft and delicate when he called you angel. You wanted to kick your feet and giggle like a little schoolgirl.

You decided to finally ask him. “This is the second time you’ve done that”, you asked him quietly.

Joaquin feigned confusion and furrowed his brows. “Done what?”

“You know what I’m talking about, Quino.”

“I don’t”, he shrugged.

You sighed and shook your head in disbelief. He was a pain in your ass.

You chose not to say anything further and looked out of the window, watching building pass by and that scene soon over took a trail of trees. He sneaked glances at you and worried his bottom lip out of nervousness. He parked the car in a parking lot and walked over to your side. He opened the door and offered you a hand to help you get out of the car.

As soon as you got out, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your bare shoulders. He grabbed your hand in his and walked you over to a nearby dock.

The dock was overlooking the skyline and it was lit up with dim lights which made it look even more peaceful. There was no rush today so you could freely walk without any disturbance. And you had reached the place perfectly on time because you could see the breathtaking sunset behind the skyline. That, combined with the gentle breeze and sound of the water immediately calmed you down.

“Whoa..”, you whispered in awe as you took in the vibrant shades of orange, blue and purple across the sky. Joaquin wasn’t interested in that sunset. His spectacled eyes were completely focused on you. He ran his eyes across your face which was illuminated beautifully by the sunset.

You could feel his stare on the side of your face. Your face heated up. “Stop staring at me like that, Jay.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

He turned you to face him and slowly dragged his fingers down your arm to intertwine your fingers with his. You looked down at your hands and shyly looked up in his eyes.

“Why are we here, Joaquin?”,you whispered.

His eyes turned shiny behind his glasses. The slight breeze tousled his curls, making him look boyish.

“I wanna tell you something. But you gotta promise me that you won’t freak out”, he murmured in a shaky voice.

Your face twisted in concern and you tightened your fingers around his. “What happened?”

You watched his adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed.

Joaquin took a deep breath in and decided to spill out everything that he had suppressed for the last 3 years.

“Angel, from the moment I saw you…you took my breath away. You came in with your shy, sweet personality and swept me off my feet. Then you smiled at for the first time, and I was a goner. I thought, I’m so lucky to be able to be in your orbit. But then, everytime I thought of telling you all this, you’d remind me that we’re best friends and I’d shut up”, he chuckled weakly.

Your eyes had widened and your vision was blurry because of the tears in your eyes.

“But, it’s been so hard, (nickname). Everytime I look at you I feel like my heart is going to explode. Because I can’t hold you for longer. Because you’re so close, yet so far. Because you were out of reach for me since I’m supposed to be your best friend. You were so worried about what everyone was saying about our closeness that I pushed my feelings back into the deepest part of my heart”, he paused to let out a shaky breath.

“I don’t know if I can be your best friend anymore. I don’t know how much longer can I pretend to be okay about all this. I wanna be yours. Completely. You’re the reason why I breathe. You’re the reason why I’m a better human today. You’re the reason why I wake up in the morning. You have no idea how scared I was these past few days because I thought I’d ruined everything. I don’t wanna lose you, angel. But I can’t pretend that I’m not in love with you anymore”, the tears that he was trying so hard to contain, finally flowed down his rosy cheeks.

You were fully frozen to your spot at this point. Was this really happening? You waited for 3 years to hear this from his mouth. Was he really standing here in front of you and confessing all this? Were you really that blind? You didn’t even realise that you were crying.

Joaquin’s face twisted in pain and concern. He released your hands to cup your cheeks and wiped your tears with his thumbs. “Please don’t cry, angel. You’re scaring me.”

You snapped out of your daze and whimpered. You brought up your shaky hands and held his wrists.

“Is this really happening, Quino?”, you whispered to him, your words warbled because of the sob you were trying to contain.

He sniffled and gave you a soft smile.

“I love, love, love you, angel.”

That was all it took for you to break out in a sob and tackle him in a hug. You hugged him by the neck tightly and his arms went around your waist to pull you close to him. He buried his face in your neck and you buried yours in his curls. Painful sobs left your throat and his tears were soaking the skin of your neck.

After a while you pulled apart and cupped his cheeks in your hands. His handsome face had turned red from all the crying and his glasses were smudged. You sniffled and carefully removed his glasses to fold them and put them in his jacket’s pocket. You brought your hands back to his face and brushed his curls away from his forehead. His eyes closed in content and his hands caressed your back gently.

“I’ve been wanting- begging to some higher power- to hear that for the last 3 years”, you confessed in a shaky voice.

His eyes widened. Sam was right.

You gave him a tiny smile. “I’ve been ridiculously in love with you for a really long time, Quino.”

His breath hitched. He was pretty sure his legs had turned into lead. There’s just no way he didn’t catch that. 3 years. Both of you were idiots.

“I was so afraid of telling you. I didn’t wanna lose you. You’re so sweet to me, it hurt. Because I couldn’t tell you that I loved you or kiss you stupid every-time you did something for me. You’re everything to me, Joaquin. Whatever I do, I do it for you. You’re the reason why I keep pushing, my personal sunshine”, you let out a shaky chuckle.

His eyes teared up again but he chuckled. “Both of us are idiots, you know that right?”

You giggled. “I know!”

His expression turned somber again. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. We missed so much time”, he whispered in an apologetic manner. You squished his cheeks in your hands and he brought you closer to his chest. Your lips were almost touching.

“Hey, no. We have all the time in the world. I’m just glad you told me. Otherwise I was bound to do something stupid like- grab you by your stupid necklaces and just kiss you”, you replied cheekily.

That brought out a genuine laugh from him.

“What? My neck-” you didn’t give him a chance to respond because you gently pulled him closer by his necklace and crashed your lips to his. You finally did it.

He let out a squeal before kissing you back and wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. Your lips fit against each other like they were meant to be. He pulled back to suck on your bottom lip before releasing it and kissing you whole on the mouth. You dragged your hand across his chest and buried it in the curls at the nape of his neck. He wasn’t that tall, but tall enough for you to go on your tip toes. Your noses were smushed against each other and you finally broke away for air.

Breathless and cheeks flushed, you leaned your forehead against his and closed your eyes. He ran a hand across your back and cupped your nape to bring you closer, your noses touching. Both of you wanted to crawl into each other’s skin.

You let out a breathy giggle and pressed kisses to his nose. “I love, love, love, you”, you gave his nose a kiss for every “love” and rubbed your nose against his.

He pulled back and stared at your radiant face before ducking his head to pepper kisses across your face. You squealed and fisted his t shirt in your hands. He kissed your forehead, your temples, your nose, your eyes, your cheeks, the corner of your mouth and finally placed a loving, gentle kiss on your lips with a beautiful sunset behind you.

“I love you. So much”, he murmured against your lips. You smiled against his lips.

You hummed and looked in his eyes with your arms around his neck. “It’s crazy that the fans were right.”

“Don’t remind me, I’m not happy with how they were treating you”, he growled.

You stared at him in amusement and rubbed his chest soothingly with a hand. “Calm down, Simba. We’ll get back to that later.”

He let out a content sigh and pulled away from you before asking you to go on your tippy toes. You went up and wrapped your arms around his neck again and his went around your waist before he pressed his cheek against yours and closed his eyes in contentment while swaying the two of you gently.

Your cheeks pulled up as your smiled adoringly and pressed yourself closer to him and watched the sunset.

You and Joaquin were meant to be and your life was turning out to be just like a movie.

-

AN: sorry this one was so fucking long!! But as I was writing this, I fell more and more in love with this idea. I love these two so bad and I will write a part two which will be based on their established relationship and on all the interviews that tom and zendaya have done during NWH press.

Please like and reblog!!!

Sometimes I'll see the booktok girlies go crazy over a smutty scene or line and I'm like they would not be able to handle the stuff us tumblr/AO3 girlies write and read

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.

I Spy With My Little Eye

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x F!Reader

Summary: Joaquin got you a little present for when he's away on missions for a longer time.

A/N: This is based off a tiktok I saw about a husband bothering his wife with the Ebo Bot while he's deployed

"...Joaquin, what is this exactly?" you look at the device inside the box.

Your boyfriend looks at you excitedly, "It's a little robot that I can use to communicate with you while I'm away on missions."

You pull it out along with instructions, "Honey, this is sweet and all, but our phones work just fine."

"But our phones don't roll around looking all cute like!" You watch as he downloads the required app and sets up the bot. Soon enough, the round, white and black bot is rolling around your living room floor. Joaquin controls it from his phone.

"See!" He then taps his phone again, "And I can talk to you through it like this!"

Honestly, you still didn't see the purpose of the bot, but it made Joaquin happy and it provides another form of communication with him while he's away.

"It does look pretty cute," you say, giving him a soft smile, which makes his own smile grow wider.

__________________

You're in the kitchen cooking dinner for yourself when you hear the rolling of wheels, "What's cookin', good lookin'?"

You chuckle and look down at your feet. The ebo bot is angled up at you as your boyfriend speaks through it, "Making soup?" Joaquin asks as he notes the pot in front of you.

"Close. I'm cooking stew."

"All of that for you?"

You roll your eyes, "No. I'll eat what I can and then I'll freeze the rest to eat for another time. Or if you want to eat it when you come back, all you have to do is heat it back up."

"Oooohh smart."

"Everything going okay?" you ask as you go back to cooking.

"Yup. Probably will be back in a day or two....can you pick me up and put me on the counter?"

You snort, "Really? Why?"

"So I can get a better look at your beautiful face, obviously." You hear the grin in his voice.

You roll your eyes again but you oblige. For the past few missions, Joaquin has used the ebo bot to talk to you, mess around, and be a little nuisance. You could tell he was enjoying it way too much.

"I hope Sam never gives you your own Red Wing. I can't imagine the nonsense you'd pull with something more advance," you smirk at the bot that rolls around the counter beside you.

"I've already asked and he refuses to give me one."

You laugh, "As he should! You're a menace with this little thing," you gesture to the bot with the wooden spoon in your hand.

"I'm just making sure you're not lonely when I'm away!"

"Baby, I love you, but we both know you're the clingier one between us."

You laugh as the bot turns around and rolls towards a corner, appearing as if Joaquin is pouting.

"Take it back."

"No, because it's true! And I didn't say it was a bad thing, Joaco!"

"No, no, no. It's fine. Screw me for being super duper in love with my beautiful and amazing girlfriend." he proceeds to roll towards the edge of the counter and you stop him.

"You're so dramatic," you say with a smirk as you pick up the bot and raise it to eye level.

"But you love me."

"Yes, I do. Very much," you kiss the bot and set it back on the counter, "Were you going to watch me eat dinner?"

"Nah. I'll let you go. I need to work on reports or Sam will get on me again."

You snicker, "Alright," you set the bot onto the floor, "Love you. Bye!"

"Love you! Byyyyyeeeeee!" he elongates the word as rolls all the way back to the dock, causing you to laugh to yourself.

was reading through a fic on here that felt…off? in its writing, but was otherwise an interesting story. until i got to later in the story and the person forgot to erase the AI prompt response.

i’d literally rather your writing be shitty and barely there than using AI to write. at least then i know you had the heart.

i will never consent to AI being used on my writing nor will i ever use it. good fucking grief.

hi, girly girl ♡♡♡

i’m re-reading your grumpy!bucky x sunshine!reader series (bc of course i am) and i was wondering, if you’re taking requests, what your thoughts are about:

💭 something happening to sunshine!reader, during a mission or something else, and she’s emotional (maybe hurt) and frantically asking for bucky. cue extra-protective!grumpy!bucky.

k love u bye

hi, babe :))

it started out as thoughts and I worked it into a lil something something

love you more <3

You came? You called.

Pairing: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Fem! Reader (Grumpy x Sunshine)

Summary: The team’s brightest light shatters after a mission gone wrong, and only one person can put her back together.

Bucky Barnes :)

Word Count: Roughly 900 words 

Warnings: Fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injuries mentioned (barely), mentions of blood, overprotective and soft Bucky, physical and emotional distress, a lil bit of angst (but just a pinch)

Author’s Note: I don't know where I was going with this, but I tried :(

Navigation

Divider by: @strangergraphics

You’re not supposed to cry.

You're supposed to sparkle. 

You're supposed to laugh like you’ve never tasted bitterness, bounce off the walls like gravity never quite applied to you, and leave glitter bombs and rainbow cupcakes in your wake. 

You're the sunshine of the team, the chaos incarnate with fingers covered in icing from baking every other day, held together by too much energy and not enough fear.

But right now, you’re sobbing, shaking so hard it rattles your bones.

The safe house is too quiet. 

Too sterile. 

You hate the quiet.

Your world is made of giggles and explosions and yelling at Tony for calling you “a walking serotonin factory,” like it’s not the biggest compliment ever.

Steve’s kneeling next to you, his voice is soft, words calm and even, like a warm blanket. 

Nat’s crouched just behind him, her clothes smeared with blood that’s not hers. You know what that means. She already got them, the ones who hurt you.

But none of that matters.

You want him.

“Bucky,” you whisper softly, the name tumbling out between hiccups.

Steve tries to soothe you. “He’s coming, sunshine. He’s on his way.”

But that only makes it worse. It hurts, how badly you need him. The tight, aching space in your chest pulses with panic.

You try to push yourself off the couch even though your leg won't work right. The pain flares, sharp and hot, but not as bad as the panic clawing through your ribs. “I need him now. Please. I want Bucky.”

Your voice breaks, shatters into something raw and desperate.

Steve looks helpless. Even Captain America doesn’t know how to hold back the sun when it starts to implode.

Nat lays a hand on your shoulder. Her touch is light but firm. “He’s coming,” she says quietly. “He’s already ripping apart the walls to get to you.”

That sounds like him.

It helps, but not enough. 

The tears keep coming, stupid and hot, blurring everything. Your fingers grip the blanket around you, but it’s not what you want. 

You want metal and leather and the calloused hands that catch you midair when you launch off rooftops without a second thought. You want the gruff voice that mutters complaints when you bounce in front of him, bright and too close, but never pulls away.

You want Bucky.

And then he’s there.

Steve barely gets out of the way before Bucky’s next to you, metal hand cupping your cheek like you’re made of something too precious to break.

“There you are,” he breathes. “Sunshine, what did they do to you?”

Your hands reach out to grab him, clutching at his jacket, his shoulder, his neck, anything that’s him. 

You curl into him like a sunflower searching for sunlight, burying your face in his chest and gasping like you can’t breathe without him. 

He smells safe. 

Like home.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” you sob into him. “I was so scared. I thought…”

He’s already wrapping around you, his flesh hand holding the back of your head, metal arm tucking you into him, so close there’s no space between your body and his. “Shh. I’m here, baby. You’re safe now. I got you. Nobody’s touching you ever again.”

You nod, even as the tears soak through his shirt. His lips press to your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. Like, if he kisses you enough, he can erase what happened.

“You’re late,” you whisper, your voice trembling and watery.

“I know, dollface,” he murmurs, his voice cracking at the edges. “I should’ve been faster.”

Steve clears his throat, somewhere behind you. “Maybe give her a second to breathe, Buck.”

“I am breathing,” you mutter into Bucky’s neck, your voice muffled but stubborn.

Bucky glares at Steve. “She wants me, she gets me. End of story.”

Nat smirks from the corner, arms crossed. “She was begging for you like the world was ending.”

“She’s my world,” Bucky shoots back without hesitation.

He tilts your chin up gently, and when your glassy eyes meet his, he winces. “Look at what they did to my baby,” he whispers. “Your face. Your leg...” He trails off, breathing hard, like he might go find the bastards and rip them apart again just for good measure.

“Nat already got them,” you say, sniffling, managing a tiny smile. “Bet she looked really cool doing it, too.”

“I wanted to be the one to end them,” he mutters darkly.

You tug on his sleeve. “You’re here now. That’s better, the best thing ever. Promise.”

He melts at that, just enough. His forehead presses to yours. “You scared me, you little menace.”

“I scare everyone,” you mumble, eyes drooping as the exhaustion catches up with you. “But you always come back.”

“Always, sunshine.” He kisses the tip of your nose, holding you like you’re breakable. “You’re my favorite chaos.”

You hum, smiling sleepily at him, and he has to look away so he doesn’t fold. “I like when you call me that.”

“I’d like it even more if you didn’t almost get yourself killed,” he mutters. “No more solo missions. No more running ahead without backup. No more playing bait.”

“But I’m good bait,” you protest, nuzzling into his chest.

“I don’t care. No more.” His voice is final. His grip is absolute. “You’re sticking with me.”

And maybe that sounds like a means of control to anyone else.

But you? You just smile.

Because you’re safe. 

Because he’s here.

Even the brightest light needs a shadow to guard it.

And Bucky Barnes is your favorite one.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

If you'd like to be added to my taglist

Much love x

- Maeve

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