Summary: Y/N is in a rough spot… to say the least. Her boyfriend cheated, her best friend is dead to her, and now she’s out on her ass with nowhere to go. Her buddy Steve has offered her a spot on their couch until she gets back on her feet. But with his two roommates added to the mix… who knows what’ll happen?
Summary: Y/N is in a rough spot… to say the least. Her boyfriend cheated, her best friend is dead to her, and now she’s out on her ass with nowhere to go. Her buddy Steve has offered her a spot on their couch until she gets back on her feet. But with his two roommates added to the mix… who knows what’ll happen?
Fics for Marvel’s finest, but especially one long-haired super soldier with chronic emotional damage.
Mostly Bucky Barnes.
A little angst.
A lot of little filth.
A lot of yearning.
Series/Multi-parters
One of the Guys
Y/N is forced to move out of her apartment after a clear and utter betrayal. Her buddy Steve has offered to let her stay with him… and his 2 chaotic roommates
A Stitch in Time
Bucky is filled with nostalgia and sorrow as he lives in the modern world without his childhood friend, Y/N. As he tries to navigate without her, fate has other plans.
Blunt
Bucky is infatuated with his coworker, and Tony’s right hand, Y/N. He’s tried everything to get her attention, to no avail. Could a change in strategy help?
Best Friend’s Brother
Y/N goes away from Spring Break with her best friend Rebecca Barnes. She’s looking forward to relaxing, but with her brother and his crazy friends joining? Who knows what might happen.
A Favour
The team discovers a fascinating secret about Y/N, and with everyone lining up for her attention she doesn’t know what to do. She turns to her best friend Bucky with a simple request…
Rumours
A small and unfortunate miscommunication churns rumours about partners Y/N and Bucky. They try to dismiss them, but is there really no foundation for them?
Just Across the Hall
Y/N loathes her next door neighbor Bucky, no matter what Wanda says. That is until she sees another side of him…
I’m a Mess
Bucky is back from his mission with Sam, but after being gone so long he’s surprised to see that Y/N had moved on…
One Shots
Pin It
Y/N and Barnes engage in a friendly combat competition, but things get a little more than friendly.
Loud Thoughts
Wanda uses her powers at Steve’s request, but trying not to read Barnes’ thoughts about Y/N proves to be more difficult than she anticipated.
You Up?
Bucky navigates modern technology, and the courting techniques that come with it…
Scars
When Y/N finds herself hurt and vulnerable, the last person she wants to see is Bucky Barnes.
Impulsive
One casual night turns into something more. (Gender Neutral)
Sanctuary
While Bucky is hiding out from the world with Clint’s family, he finds himself attracted to Laura’s close friend.
White Wine
Y/N soothes herself after her break up with a bottle of wine, and her best friend Bucky.
Flight Risk
Bucky helps Y/N get control of her powers.
She Just Knows
Perceptive and all knowing Y/N finally gets under Barnes’ skin.
Soft Strokes
Y/N’s day-off activities are interrupted by a mission.
Late
Bucky and Y/N stay up for long hours into the night.
Coffee
Y/N is protective over Bucky’s things.
The Proximity Effect
Bucky tries to rationalize his feelings for Y/N.
Makeup
Bucky and Y/N get silly with her make up.
Full Boyle
A silly sitcom hits Y/N hard, and her emotions are on full display.
Punching Bag
Bucky and Y/N loathe each other, but as partners, they have to work something out before they get killed.
Say It
Bucky is sick of Y/N’s smart mouth and attitude
Petty
Young SHIELD trainee Y/N loses her cool, and has to double down on her bold actions.
They’re Playing Our Song
Bucky teaches Y/N to dance.
Blue Christmas
Bucky feels sorry for the new girl during the holidays.
Summary: Bucky is unravelling, doing everything in his power to keep himself is check. Even the smallest things set him off, like his laundry going missing...
Warnings: swearing, sexual themes and depictions, kinda voyeur? but not really?, sexual fantasy.
Word count: 1.8k
Series Masterlist
Previous episode
“Fuck, where is it?”
Bucky dug through his ginormous piles of laundry both dirty and clean, which he had refused to sort and was now regretting immensely because he couldn’t find the one shirt he wanted.
He didn’t know much about fashion, but a vintage and distressed rock tee went perfectly for a first date at a rock concert in the park.
That much he knew.
He just wanted to make a good impression; and actually follow through with a girl this time.
He’d been trying, really trying to get… a certain someone out of his head.
He was dragging the boys out with him constantly, or using dating apps as a crutch when he found himself without his wingmen.
He’d meet a girl, they’d talk, she’d laugh, he’d ask if she wanted to get out of whatever shithole bar they were in…
And it would work, until it didn’t.
He’d be kissing a girl in her foyer, or sat between her thighs and giving her his full attention.
He was excited, eager, all consumed.
And then she’d moan his name.
Suddenly he was transported to that night where he stood in Y/N’s doorway, remembering how her eyes fluttered and her lip fell.
That blue light showing less than what the women he took home did, but somehow giving him more want.
Bucky…
And then he couldn’t close.
So maybe, just maybe, going on an actual date with a girl would mend this broken loop of memory where all he could think about while going down on some chick was his own roommate.
Continuing his digging, he found his glorious shirt crumpled and hidden behind his door.
“I swore I just washed this.” He muttered aloud.
Or did he?
He sniffed the fabric, the unmistakable scent of vanilla lingering.
“SAM!” He yelled, barreling out of his room.
Sam stood at the oven, pulling out the most perfect cinnamon rolls and nearly dropping them at the sudden yelling.
Steve’s brows rose at the call, a smirk forming.
“What did you do?” He teased.
Sam rolled his eyes, “Hell if I know--”
Bucky trudged to the counter, waving the t-shirt in front of the two men.
“Stop stealing my shit, Wilson.”
Sam groaned as he drizzled the icing over the fresh rolls, “I’M NOT! God, how many times are we gonna do this?”
Bucky’s teeth gritted, “As many times as it takes to get through your head. YOU WEAR THEM WHEN YOU BAKE, THEY SMELL LIKE COOKIES!”
The tray clambered against the stove top, nearly making Steve jump out of his stool.
“I DON’T WEAR YOUR SHIT SHIRTS MAN! I like shit that’s actually new, not from your Dad’s beat-up college boxes.”
Bucky scoffed, still enraged as now he was definitely going to be late.
“YOU’RE JUST JEALOUS THAT THEY’RE VINTAGE!” He yelled over his shoulder.
Sam leaned over the island, “ASSHOLE!” He yelled.
“PRISS!”
The insult was hurled with a door slam, and the shaking of furniture.
“Jesus,” Y/N said, “What crawled up his ass and died?”
She slowly rounded the corner, deciding it was best to be out of Bucky’s raging war path.
“Who knows at this point.” Steve chided.
Bucky had gone from jumpy to angry within weeks.
Though one could describe Bucky’s common demeanor as “grumpy”, it seemed he was taking it to a whole new level these days.
Fighting over t-shirts, trudging off to his room, going out every other night and waking up both hungover and… on edge, was the only word he could use to describe it.
Steve figured with how much the guy was getting laid, he would lighten up.
But each night he left with a new face, he almost seemed to come back worse.
Y/N reached behind Sam to steal the bottle of vanilla extract from the counter, dosing a few drops on her wrist then rubbing the excess on her neck.
Sam couldn’t refrain from questioning, “What are you doing?”
She shrugged, “What? It’s cheaper than perfume, smells just as good.”
When Sam’s pointed look didn’t fade, she caved. “In other words, I’m out of perfume and broke.”
The two laughed as she rolled her eyes, “Shut up, I read it in a book once and it works.”
Sam hummed in pity, “Are we still on for the meet and greet?”
She smiled. “Hell yeah. Let me make a coffee then we’ll head.”
As she turned to the coffee maker, Steve’s head tilted.
Adorning her frame was a worn-out foo-fighters t-shirt. Very similar to the Scorpions one Bucky had just walked out in--
“Wait…” His shoulders rose, “is that Buck’s shirt?”
Sam looked to get a better look, his eyes only growing wide.
“Oh… yeah. Please don’t tell him.”
“Don’t tell him?! He nearly just ripped me a new one, thinking I was stealing his stuff!”
Steve put his head in his hands, he did not need Bucky any more mad than he already was.
“Y/N,” his hands rose in desperation, “why?”
“Look at them!” she grabbed the front graphic, “They’re vintage animal freakin’ magnetism dude, I can’t find any good ones like these.”
But they weren't hers. Yeah, sharing coffee is one thing. But clothes?
Bucky could clearly not handle that.
“This is weird. This is weird and I do not approve.” Sam stated.
“You don't have to approve!” she grabbed his hand, her coffee in the other while dragging him out of their apartment. “You both just have to keep quiet until I chuck it in his room at the end of the day.”
“Y/N--” Steve started to warn, in that “all-knowing” fatherly tone.
“Love you Steve, you’re the best!” She called out, slamming the door behind her much like the brooding man had before.
Steve’s head fell into his hands again.
Dear god… this was going to be a blood-bath, wasn’t it?
~
Couldn’t close.
Couldn’t. Fucking. Close.
God, was he ever going to get out of this slump?
Bucky slumbered up the stairs, exhausted and disappointed as ever.
The girl was beautiful. Funny. Had an amazing taste in music.
And went so far as kissing him in the crowd, telling him this concert blows, and they should go to her place for a real good time.
But with her hands wrapped around his neck, his around her waist, his mind betrayed him.
Thinking back to the closet, thinking back to the kitchen, thinking so far back to when Y/N first entered their apartment and stripped in front of him in the laundry room.
You don’t mind a bit of mine with yours, right?
Then the thought of touching the girl in front of him seemed all too overwhelming.
A scent he didn’ t recognize, a gaze that wasn’t familiar, a smile that didn’t warm his chest the way she did.
He made his conclusion at the front door; it wasn’t even about sex, or desire, or proximity anymore.
The reality was; he would’ve had a better time doing anything else with Y/N than he would being intimate with someone new.
He had fallen for her. Suddenly and harshly, to the point where it was contaminating every interaction he had with a potential partner.
He had women begging him to take them home, and all he could picture was his friend half naked in front of a washing machine.
His key twisted in the lock, the door slowly opened. He entered and tossed his jacket on the hook like he had so many times before.
Then he turned and saw her. Curled up on the couch, asleep, in one of his best--no, no-- his favorite t-shirt.
The light of the TV strobed across her face, adjusting against the cushions while softly snoring.
As she moved, the t-shirt rode up above her stomach, edging against her rib cage.
Bucky’s mouth went dry.
The balled up clothing, the lingering scent of vanilla, it made sense! She was stealing his shirts.
So why didn’t it bother him the way it did when he thought it was Sam?
Why did a girl in a sexy-form fitted top and low riding leather pants pale in comparison to the woman in front of him, who more than likely had covered his crappy old shirt in crumbs and vanilla?
This was doing nothing to curb his stupid delusions, or newfound epiphany that he was utterly head over heels for her.
He shook his head, nearly laughing at himself.
There was no point in pretending anymore that he didn’t feel the way he did.
The least he could do was accept it; and move forward.
He had feelings for Y/N.
He could keep that inside, but he couldn’t lie to himself anymore.
He sauntered forward, slowly reaching for the remote and turning off the TV.
She curled further into the couch, and Bucky gently covered her with the blanket at her feet.
Tucking her in, and admiring the way her hair fell across the pillow, he whispered to himself; “You drive me crazy.”
She remained asleep, as Bucky quietly made his way to his own room.
~
Y/N decided she was never, ever falling asleep on that couch again.
Even if it had been the consequence of bingeing Bridgerton, the back pain was so not worth it.
She had been spoiled by her loft bed, and was hereby never returning to it ever again.
She groaned loudly, and dramatically at the island,in between bites of Sam’s day-old pastry.
“Ughh,” She wailed again.
Sam leaned against the counter. “Stop. Whining. Take a hot shower and an advil like a normal person.”
“No,” she muttered, face against the cool stone, “Then the couch wins.”
Sam shook his head, “You’re a ridiculous person.”
She was suddenly met with an object hitting her face, only adding to her pain.
“Hey! What the--” She looked up to see Bucky beginning his rounds in the kitchen.
He side-eyed her, while making his coffee.
“What gives Barnes? Who throws a--”
But she stopped once she realized what was now balled up in her hands.
A RUSH t-shirt, soft and worn with the graphic starting to peel.
She winced, scared to meet his eye.
“Bucky I’m so sorry, I know I shouldn’t have taken it—”
“Whatever.” He shrugged, eyes focused on the mug in front of him. “I never wear that one, you can keep it but stop stealing the others.”
Sam’s jaw fell to the floor. “ARE YOU SERIOUS? THAT’S IT?”
He threw down his spatula, pointing a finger in Bucky’s face, “YOU NEARLY CHEWED MY HEAD OFF!”
The two started their screaming match, Y/N winced in her seat, whilst Steve stood frozen in the hallway.
Oh my god, he thought, oh my god.
He figured it out.
The moodiness, the new hookups, his rushing out of the main living areas, the loft bed, the exhibit, the goddamn t-shirt.
It all made sense; everything finally came to one point.
Steve wasn’t sure who he was more in awe of; Bucky for acting this way, or himself for not figuring it out earlier.
Steve leaned against the wall in silent realization; Bucky was in love with Y/N.
Summary: Bucky is acting odd… this heat had to be getting to him.
Warnings: swearing, masturbation, voyeurism, sexual fantasy, and all the other pervy stuff.
Word Count: 2.3k
Series Masterlist
Previous Episode
How would you take advantage of the summer?
Would it be beach days, perhaps? Concerts? Maybe you’d be willing to take a Sunday drive, or a beautiful forest hike. You could enjoy the sun and warmth, even go to a patio every weekend, because why not?
Days are long, you have more time to idle, to create, to socialize.
Or if you were Sam and Steve, you have more time to get better at Smite 2.
“DIE! DIE DIE DIE—” Sam bellowed at the monitors.
The two were fully engrossed in the game.
Bucky grimaced at Sam’s shouting, leaning against the trim in silent agony.
Why couldn’t they go out,like normal people?
“So, can I borrow your charger?” Bucky repeated.
Sam’s eyes flicked to Bucky, standing in his doorway. He looked between the two; his friend and his computer screen.
Steve paid him no mind as he was crushing it, almost done with the jungle…
“Uh—yeah sure man whenever.” Sam grumbled.
Steve bit his lip, glaring down opponent. “Dude Aphrodite is so broken.”
Sam shook his head, “Don’t worry about their Aphro. Just focus on the tower…”
Trailing off as he revived his health at the portal, he’d forgotten that Bucky even came in.
Steve’s focus was stolen, watching as Bucky crossed the room, nonchalantly… almost too nonchalantly.
And, most noticeably, Bucky was shirtless.
Which never happened.
Like, ever.
“Dude! What the fuck?” Sam screamed.
“Whoa—language.” Bucky chided.
Sure he stepped in front of the screen, but it was for a fraction of a second.
He quickly realized that it wasn’t directed towards him, with Sam’s eyes boring into the side of Steve’s face.
Steve simply stared Bucky down, the controller forgotten in his hands.
“Steve pick it up,” Sam said, “if you stop then we either lose or get locked out for 40 minutes—”
“You’re shirtless.” Steve stated.
His two words echoed with the weight of accusation, like the opening statement of a Brooklyn prosecution lawyer. It was to the point, arguably too vague… but to a seasoned criminal, it was pointed. The introduction of a long cross examination directed at a man who was fair beyond guilty.
But Bucky was innocent, as pure as an Angel.
He was simply shirtless.
Bucky gulped. “So?”
Sam smirked, he too noticed the oddity of their roommate. “Bucky, why are you being so promiscuous tonight?”
“Excuse me?” He stood frozen, charger in hand. “It’s the middle of August, I’m warm.”
“Bull shit,” Steve poked, “You're always bitching about the cold.”
Sam placed his controller down, a much more interesting game at play in reality. “And our AC is on full blast.”
He nodded, finally understanding Steve’s focus being pulled from their game. “It’s weird seeing you shirtless.”
Bucky heard no word, peeking over into the hallway.
Steve’s eyes narrowed, he reached for his standing fan and cranked up the power.
Daring Bucky to shiver, for one goosebump to appear…
Bucky glared back, but refused to cave.
“You’re being weird.” Steve stated.
“No I’m not. You’re being weird… can’t a guy grab a charger in—
The lights flickered, the boys looked up at the blinking fixture…
And then it went dark.
“Goddamnit.”
“You just had to crank it, didn’t you?”
Steve rustled against his bedspread.
“Relax. It’s probably just a flipped fuse.”
Steve heard Bucky’s voice in the darkness, “I told you we shouldn’t run it at night! You should just open the windows!”
“Ah shit--”
Steve turned to Sam, or--the direction of his voice, anyway.
“What?”
“Y/N’s got no windows. She’s in the pitch black bro.”
Steve shrugged, but heard Bucky clamber in against the furniture.
“Relax. Just call her.”
Bucky groaned as he reached out, tracing the room with his finger tips.
“Phone’s dead, remember?”
Right, hence the charger.
Which was now useless in the blackout.
He reached the door frame, squinting and searching for her in the open space.
“Y/N?” He called.
Bucky looked back into the room, searching for the shadows of his friends.
“Where are your phones?”
“Oh I wonder!” Sam shrilled, “If only the lights were on and I could see.”
“Bucky…”
Her voice called out down the hall--at least he thought. It was so quiet. Softly that he could’ve imagined it.
“Y/N?”
God why was there no natural light in their stupid apartment.
“Y/N!”
He stumbled through the dark, only small beams of streetlight entering the living room windows.
Ignoring the echoes of Sam’s complaints, which seemed to reverberate loudly without the white noise of electronics, he stepped further into the darkness.
“Bucky…”
There it was, his name again.
But he couldn’t find her in the open space—or as open as their living room could be.
She must be in her room.
Maybe she was afraid of the dark.
A forehead knocked into his chin.
“Ow!”
He reached out to stabilize the person, hands wrapping around bare arms.
“Y/N. Sorry--you okay?”
“It’s me, asshole. I can’t see a thing in here—” Sam muttered.
Then another cry came out. Louder, like a whimper.
Again he heard his name, shoving Sam off he barreled down the hall.
Maybe she fell out of her loft.
She felt miles away from him in the dark, and he felt he needed to get closer.
“Now our AC’s gonna be out.” Steve mumbled behind him.
She definitely must be hurt, he thought.
“We’re coming!”
He found her door handle in the blackness, pushing in without hesitation.
“Y/N? You’re okay, I’m here—”
He stopped in his tracks.
Through the darkness he could see her silhouette, encompassed by the light of her phone in her small space.
The valley of her chest rising above her mattress, the blue hue reflecting off her lips that fell in awe.
“Fuck…” she moaned, her hands stowed under her covers.
She was watching porn.
She was touching herself.
She was touching herself while watching porn and moaning his name.
The door stayed open behind him, hypnotized by the mirage in front of him—he lingered in the doorway.
Part of him wanted to slam the door behind him, lock out everything else—damned be the apartment with no power.
But he couldn’t move, just watching in eager silence as her soft moans escaped.
“Told you it was a flipped breaker!” Steve yelled out.
Bucky saw her head turn in the dimly lit room, her eyes catching a figure in the doorframe.
Y/N gasped, “Wait, Steve—”
The lights came on with a blinding glare.
The room illuminated, finally they could see the furniture, each other—See Y/N’s naked frame appear.
Their eyes met, both frozen.
What had he heard? Why was he here?
Steve screamed, suddenly behind Bucky.
“Y/N WHAT THE FUCK?!”
She desperately reached for a blanket, rolling away from her two roommates—away from one who wouldn’t stop staring.
“I WAS GONNA HAVE A GUEST OVER!” She defended.
Bucky stood frozen whilst Steve covered his eyes.
“Still—”
She rolled her eyes, cheap polyester now guarding her bare form.
“Don’t judge me, perv.” She stated.
“Pardon me?” Steve said. “You’re the naked one.”
“In my own ROOM!” She defended.
Sam rounded the corner at the commotion, not faltering for a moment as he took in Y/N’s state.
“Holy hell.” He smirked, “Nice girl.”
She groaned at Sam, “Get out.”
“You could’ve locked the door.” Steve uttered.
Sam’s head tilted, “So you’re not hurt?”
“—no, clearly not.” Bucky stated.
She clutched the blanket tighter against her, “Guys you're ruining this for me. Get the fuck OUT!”
Her phone reverberated against the sheets with soft moans, and the boys chuckled.
“Be adults,” she chided, “Stop invading my privacy.”
“Well sorry!” Sam said with blatant indifference in his eyes, “Blame us for worrying about you in a blackout.”
If only the boys could handle a temperature that wasn’t just above Arctic level chill, she thought, then she could’ve enjoyed her sexy moment in peace.
All she wanted was a night to herself, figuring their gaming would have distracted them from… intruding.
And now with her vibe shattered, one-night-stand from tinder cancelled, and the utter embarrassment she had been subjected to, her motivation for any arousal was ruined for the summer.
She didn’t even know why Bucky drifted into her mind, maybe because her last hookup was so disappointing. Maybe because Quill was nowhere near her go-to spank bank.
Maybe because Bucky had been grunting and jerking at the faucet again completely shirtless.
“Cmon,” he’d ushered, “c’mon girl, just give…”
Maybe he hadn’t heard anything. Maybe she could pretend this had never happened, that her three roommates were not seeing her half naked covered by a—WAIT.
“WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL HERE?!?” She threw a pillow from behind her head, and the boys scrambled to shield themselves.
“Jesus Christ, alright!” Steve shouted, ushering Sam to leave the room.
He reached for Bucky’s shirt hem, reminding the man that he should not be there.
Bucky scrambled out, flustered and blushing.
“Fuck you guys!” She screamed, “and knock next time!!”
~
Bucky’s lip pulled… his plan had been foiled.
His hands running over his arms in comfort from both the cold and the lack of follow through. Goosebumps littered his skin.
How was he cold in a heat wave?
Steve glared once more “Dude seriously, why are you shirtless?”
Bucky refused to meet his eye, starting his way back to his room.
“Well, I’m not putting a shirt back on with this heat wave.”
“The air conditioning is back. You’re freezing. Your nipples are slicing the air into my eyes.” You could hear the condescension plopping against the floor as Sam spoke.
“Shut up, Sam?” Bucky retorted.
Not the best defense, but all he could come up with.
“You are always cold.” Steve declared.
Bucky rolled his eyes, “Not always—why are you being weird?”
“No you are, you are being weird. You always complain it's cold—”
He’d zoned out at Steve’s droning.
His mind wandering to that vision of her in her sheets, soft rustling, the moaning of his name—
He’d gotten what he wanted.
He couldn’t lie to himself and pretend he was innocent.
Of course he’d wanted more… but this wasn’t a loss.
He saw how she watched him today, fussing with that damn sink.
She hadn’t been with anyone in awhile; not since the Tinder photo debacle that she and Steve debated on… he knew she didn’t follow through with it.
She didn’t go out to the bars, she didn’t bring anyone over. Then he’d felt eyes gazing after him in the apartment.
It was selfish, it was slightly sadistic.
He hadn’t been with anyone in awhile either.
And watching her go around their place in thin camisoles, or cropped t-shirts and tiny denim shorts…
He wanted to even the playing field.
He wanted her to look at him the way—well—the way he looked at her.
And it worked.
It fucking worked.
But what the hell could he do about it?
His imaginative mind had invented a scenario; one where the boys were distracted, and they’d run into each other in the kitchen like they had so many times before.
He’d talk about meeting people and how hard it had been to date nowadays, he’d compliment her if she complained about the same thing.
“You’re a gorgeous girl, anyone would be lucky to have you…”
She’d smile, he’d smile. They’d get closer.
He’d kiss her like he had that night in the closet.
Assertive, dominating, wanting—
Then he could tuck her away in his room, cover her mouth to quiet the moans he would pull from her. Watching her fall apart at his finger tips while their roommates were none the wiser.
But reality had to slap him in the face, reminding him that it was nothing but I stupid, overzealous fantasy.
What could he do about it, he asked himself?
Nothing—with Steve ranting to him about how odd he was behaving, and Sam droning on in oblivious idiocy.
He couldn’t blame them, really.
He’d started out her lease with nothing but glib comments, sarcasm and avoidance.
And she was one of Steve’s best friends.
And now one of Sam’s.
One of his own…
God, what was he doing?
How could he suddenly dump on them that he was wanting her more than he’d wanted anyone in years? That it felt unbearable some days, watching her move around their space without at ounce of knowledge that in a second he’d—
Fuck.
Now he was parading around the apartment shirtless, in some pathetic attempt to seduce her.
The heat was getting to him. That had to be it.
This summer was overwhelming. And they’d been cooped up in the AC for too long.
He just needed space. Just needed to clear his head.
He cut off Steve abruptly, “I wanna go out.”
Steve blinked, hard. Did Bucky not hear a word he just said?
“You guys down?” He asked.
Sam, surprised by the offer but not against it, accepted quickly.
Steve dumbly shrugged, shocked but agreed nonetheless.
Bucky hastily went to his room, muttering something about changing clothes.
Sam looked at Steve, “You good?”
Steve’s lip pursed, “Yeah man… he just seems off.”
Sam clapped a hand on his shoulder, “You’re being too hard on the guy. It’s a minor thing, don’t freak out.”
He nodded, but Steve couldn’t shake it.
Sure, maybe he was being a little intense, but Bucky was so… jumpy.
Quick to defend himself after a simple question; rash decisions; so disconnected at the most random times.
It felt weird watching his best friend pull away.
Sam told him to get ready for the bar; muttering something about giving Y/N the “privacy she wanted”.
He went through the motions; clothes, cologne, wallet, keys…
But still the thought lingered.
As the boys left for the club, he sent Y/N a quick sorry text, saying they were heading out.
He watched as Bucky eagerly paced the hall before they left.
Whether Bucky wanted to talk about it or not, Steve was set on finding out what had suddenly made his best friend flip on a dime before the end of the summer.
Summary: Bucky is acting odd… this heat had to be getting to him.
Warnings: swearing, masturbation, voyeurism, sexual fantasy, and all the other pervy stuff.
Word Count: 2.3k
Series Masterlist
Previous Episode
How would you take advantage of the summer?
Would it be beach days, perhaps? Concerts? Maybe you’d be willing to take a Sunday drive, or a beautiful forest hike. You could enjoy the sun and warmth, even go to a patio every weekend, because why not?
Days are long, you have more time to idle, to create, to socialize.
Or if you were Sam and Steve, you have more time to get better at Smite 2.
“DIE! DIE DIE DIE—” Sam bellowed at the monitors.
The two were fully engrossed in the game.
Bucky grimaced at Sam’s shouting, leaning against the trim in silent agony.
Why couldn’t they go out,like normal people?
“So, can I borrow your charger?” Bucky repeated.
Sam’s eyes flicked to Bucky, standing in his doorway. He looked between the two; his friend and his computer screen.
Steve paid him no mind as he was crushing it, almost done with the jungle…
“Uh—yeah sure man whenever.” Sam grumbled.
Steve bit his lip, glaring down opponent. “Dude Aphrodite is so broken.”
Sam shook his head, “Don’t worry about their Aphro. Just focus on the tower…”
Trailing off as he revived his health at the portal, he’d forgotten that Bucky even came in.
Steve’s focus was stolen, watching as Bucky crossed the room, nonchalantly… almost too nonchalantly.
And, most noticeably, Bucky was shirtless.
Which never happened.
Like, ever.
“Dude! What the fuck?” Sam screamed.
“Whoa—language.” Bucky chided.
Sure he stepped in front of the screen, but it was for a fraction of a second.
He quickly realized that it wasn’t directed towards him, with Sam’s eyes boring into the side of Steve’s face.
Steve simply stared Bucky down, the controller forgotten in his hands.
“Steve pick it up,” Sam said, “if you stop then we either lose or get locked out for 40 minutes—”
“You’re shirtless.” Steve stated.
His two words echoed with the weight of accusation, like the opening statement of a Brooklyn prosecution lawyer. It was to the point, arguably too vague… but to a seasoned criminal, it was pointed. The introduction of a long cross examination directed at a man who was fair beyond guilty.
But Bucky was innocent, as pure as an Angel.
He was simply shirtless.
Bucky gulped. “So?”
Sam smirked, he too noticed the oddity of their roommate. “Bucky, why are you being so promiscuous tonight?”
“Excuse me?” He stood frozen, charger in hand. “It’s the middle of August, I’m warm.”
“Bull shit,” Steve poked, “You're always bitching about the cold.”
Sam placed his controller down, a much more interesting game at play in reality. “And our AC is on full blast.”
He nodded, finally understanding Steve’s focus being pulled from their game. “It’s weird seeing you shirtless.”
Bucky heard no word, peeking over into the hallway.
Steve’s eyes narrowed, he reached for his standing fan and cranked up the power.
Daring Bucky to shiver, for one goosebump to appear…
Bucky glared back, but refused to cave.
“You’re being weird.” Steve stated.
“No I’m not. You’re being weird… can’t a guy grab a charger in—
The lights flickered, the boys looked up at the blinking fixture…
And then it went dark.
“Goddamnit.”
“You just had to crank it, didn’t you?”
Steve rustled against his bedspread.
“Relax. It’s probably just a flipped fuse.”
Steve heard Bucky’s voice in the darkness, “I told you we shouldn’t run it at night! You should just open the windows!”
“Ah shit--”
Steve turned to Sam, or--the direction of his voice, anyway.
“What?”
“Y/N’s got no windows. She’s in the pitch black bro.”
Steve shrugged, but heard Bucky clamber in against the furniture.
“Relax. Just call her.”
Bucky groaned as he reached out, tracing the room with his finger tips.
“Phone’s dead, remember?”
Right, hence the charger.
Which was now useless in the blackout.
He reached the door frame, squinting and searching for her in the open space.
“Y/N?” He called.
Bucky looked back into the room, searching for the shadows of his friends.
“Where are your phones?”
“Oh I wonder!” Sam shrilled, “If only the lights were on and I could see.”
“Bucky…”
Her voice called out down the hall--at least he thought. It was so quiet. Softly that he could’ve imagined it.
“Y/N?”
God why was there no natural light in their stupid apartment.
“Y/N!”
He stumbled through the dark, only small beams of streetlight entering the living room windows.
Ignoring the echoes of Sam’s complaints, which seemed to reverberate loudly without the white noise of electronics, he stepped further into the darkness.
“Bucky…”
There it was, his name again.
But he couldn’t find her in the open space—or as open as their living room could be.
She must be in her room.
Maybe she was afraid of the dark.
A forehead knocked into his chin.
“Ow!”
He reached out to stabilize the person, hands wrapping around bare arms.
“Y/N. Sorry--you okay?”
“It’s me, asshole. I can’t see a thing in here—” Sam muttered.
Then another cry came out. Louder, like a whimper.
Again he heard his name, shoving Sam off he barreled down the hall.
Maybe she fell out of her loft.
She felt miles away from him in the dark, and he felt he needed to get closer.
“Now our AC’s gonna be out.” Steve mumbled behind him.
She definitely must be hurt, he thought.
“We’re coming!”
He found her door handle in the blackness, pushing in without hesitation.
“Y/N? You’re okay, I’m here—”
He stopped in his tracks.
Through the darkness he could see her silhouette, encompassed by the light of her phone in her small space.
The valley of her chest rising above her mattress, the blue hue reflecting off her lips that fell in awe.
“Fuck…” she moaned, her hands stowed under her covers.
She was watching porn.
She was touching herself.
She was touching herself while watching porn and moaning his name.
The door stayed open behind him, hypnotized by the mirage in front of him—he lingered in the doorway.
Part of him wanted to slam the door behind him, lock out everything else—damned be the apartment with no power.
But he couldn’t move, just watching in eager silence as her soft moans escaped.
“Told you it was a flipped breaker!” Steve yelled out.
Bucky saw her head turn in the dimly lit room, her eyes catching a figure in the doorframe.
Y/N gasped, “Wait, Steve—”
The lights came on with a blinding glare.
The room illuminated, finally they could see the furniture, each other—See Y/N’s naked frame appear.
Their eyes met, both frozen.
What had he heard? Why was he here?
Steve screamed, suddenly behind Bucky.
“Y/N WHAT THE FUCK?!”
She desperately reached for a blanket, rolling away from her two roommates—away from one who wouldn’t stop staring.
“I WAS GONNA HAVE A GUEST OVER!” She defended.
Bucky stood frozen whilst Steve covered his eyes.
“Still—”
She rolled her eyes, cheap polyester now guarding her bare form.
“Don’t judge me, perv.” She stated.
“Pardon me?” Steve said. “You’re the naked one.”
“In my own ROOM!” She defended.
Sam rounded the corner at the commotion, not faltering for a moment as he took in Y/N’s state.
“Holy hell.” He smirked, “Nice girl.”
She groaned at Sam, “Get out.”
“You could’ve locked the door.” Steve uttered.
Sam’s head tilted, “So you’re not hurt?”
“—no, clearly not.” Bucky stated.
She clutched the blanket tighter against her, “Guys you're ruining this for me. Get the fuck OUT!”
Her phone reverberated against the sheets with soft moans, and the boys chuckled.
“Be adults,” she chided, “Stop invading my privacy.”
“Well sorry!” Sam said with blatant indifference in his eyes, “Blame us for worrying about you in a blackout.”
If only the boys could handle a temperature that wasn’t just above Arctic level chill, she thought, then she could’ve enjoyed her sexy moment in peace.
All she wanted was a night to herself, figuring their gaming would have distracted them from… intruding.
And now with her vibe shattered, one-night-stand from tinder cancelled, and the utter embarrassment she had been subjected to, her motivation for any arousal was ruined for the summer.
She didn’t even know why Bucky drifted into her mind, maybe because her last hookup was so disappointing. Maybe because Quill was nowhere near her go-to spank bank.
Maybe because of the warm honey incident, or because Bucky had been grunting and jerking at the faucet again completely shirtless.
“C’mon,” he’d ushered, “c’mon girl, just give…”
Maybe he hadn’t heard anything. Maybe she could pretend this had never happened, that her three roommates were not seeing her half naked covered by a—WAIT.
“WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL HERE?!?” She threw a pillow from behind her head, and the boys scrambled to shield themselves.
“Jesus Christ, alright!” Steve shouted, ushering Sam to leave the room.
He reached for Bucky’s shirt hem, reminding the man that he should not be there.
Bucky scrambled out, flustered and blushing.
“Fuck you guys!” She screamed, “and knock next time!!”
~
Bucky’s lip pulled… his plan had been foiled.
His hands running over his arms in comfort from both the cold and the lack of follow through. Goosebumps littered his skin.
How was he cold in a heat wave?
Steve glared once more “Dude seriously, why are you shirtless?”
Bucky refused to meet his eye, starting his way back to his room.
“Well, I’m not putting a shirt back on with this heat wave.”
“The air conditioning is back. You’re freezing. Your nipples are slicing the air into my eyes.” You could hear the condescension plopping against the floor as Sam spoke.
“Shut up, Sam?” Bucky retorted.
Not the best defense, but all he could come up with.
“You are always cold.” Steve declared.
Bucky rolled his eyes, “Not always—why are you being weird?”
“No you are, you are being weird. You always complain it's cold—”
He’d zoned out at Steve’s droning.
His mind wandering to that vision of her in her sheets, soft rustling, the moaning of his name—
He’d gotten what he wanted.
He couldn’t lie to himself and pretend he was innocent.
Of course he’d wanted more… but this wasn’t a loss.
He saw how she watched him today, fussing with that damn sink.
She hadn’t been with anyone in awhile; not since the Tinder photo debacle that she and Steve debated on… he knew she didn’t follow through with it.
She didn’t go out to the bars, she didn’t bring anyone over. Then he’d felt eyes gazing after him in the apartment.
It was selfish, it was slightly sadistic.
He hadn’t been with anyone in awhile either.
And watching her go around their place in thin camisoles, or cropped t-shirts and tiny denim shorts…
He wanted to even the playing field.
He wanted her to look at him the way—well—the way he looked at her.
And it worked.
It fucking worked.
But what the hell could he do about it?
His imaginative mind had invented a scenario; one where the boys were distracted, and they’d run into each other in the kitchen like they had so many times before.
He’d talk about meeting people and how hard it had been to date nowadays, he’d compliment her if she complained about the same thing.
“You’re a gorgeous girl, anyone would be lucky to have you…”
She’d smile, he’d smile. They’d get closer.
He’d kiss her like he had that night in the closet.
Assertive, dominating, wanting—
Then he could tuck her away in his room, cover her mouth to quiet the moans he would pull from her. Watching her fall apart at his finger tips while their roommates were none the wiser.
But reality had to slap him in the face, reminding him that it was nothing but I stupid, overzealous fantasy.
What could he do about it, he asked himself?
Nothing—with Steve ranting to him about how odd he was behaving, and Sam droning on in oblivious idiocy.
He couldn’t blame them, really.
He’d started out her lease with nothing but glib comments, sarcasm and avoidance.
And she was one of Steve’s best friends.
And now one of Sam’s.
One of his own…
God, what was he doing?
How could he suddenly dump on them that he was wanting her more than he’d wanted anyone in years? That it felt unbearable some days, watching her move around their space without at ounce of knowledge that in a second he’d—
Fuck.
Now he was parading around the apartment shirtless, in some pathetic attempt to seduce her.
The heat was getting to him. That had to be it.
This summer was overwhelming. And they’d been cooped up in the AC for too long.
He just needed space. Just needed to clear his head.
He cut off Steve abruptly, “I wanna go out.”
Steve blinked, hard. Did Bucky not hear a word he just said?
“You guys down?” He asked.
Sam, surprised by the offer but not against it, accepted quickly.
Steve dumbly shrugged, shocked but agreed nonetheless.
Bucky hastily went to his room, muttering something about changing clothes.
Sam looked at Steve, “You good?”
Steve’s lip pursed, “Yeah man… he just seems off.”
Sam clapped a hand on his shoulder, “You’re being too hard on the guy. It’s a minor thing, don’t freak out.”
He nodded, but Steve couldn’t shake it.
Sure, maybe he was being a little intense, but Bucky was so… jumpy.
Quick to defend himself after a simple question; rash decisions; so disconnected at the most random times.
It felt weird watching his best friend pull away.
Sam told him to get ready for the bar; muttering something about giving Y/N the “privacy she wanted”.
He went through the motions; clothes, cologne, wallet, keys…
But still the thought lingered.
As the boys left for the club, he sent Y/N a quick sorry text, saying they were heading out.
He watched as Bucky eagerly paced the hall before they left.
Whether Bucky wanted to talk about it or not, Steve was set on finding out what had suddenly made his best friend flip on a dime before the end of the summer.
@sanemistar, @showhay, @honey-i-love-chevy, @falsedivide, @nanaschef, @starspenxcie, @sxpernova, @his-lune (guys im so sorry for tagging y'all so much-)
@obsidianvibranium I gotta say, I’m not the best with showing my appreciation but I hope you know you genuinely make my day with your love and unwavering support 🤍 you are an angel
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