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That is the first thing Bucky notices when you walk into the room where he's discussing logistics with your father.
He's been here twenty minutes. Long enough to know the basics: your father's a senator, someone made threats, your security detail was compromised last week. Your father wants you to have increased protection.
Then you open the door.
You stop when you see him. Your eyes go wide for just a second before you glance down, almost shy.
"Dad? I didn't know you had company."
Your father's shoulders tense. Bucky notices. He notices everything. "Sweetheart, come here."
You move further into the room, stopping near your father's desk. Close to him. Like you're the one who does the protecting around here.
Cute, Bucky thinks. Then immediately shoves the thought away.
"What's going on?" you ask quietly.
"Sit down."
"I have class in an hour."
Your father sighs softly. "It'll only take ten minutes. Please."
You sit. Perch on the edge of a chair, hands folded in your lap. Waiting. Patient. Braced.
Your father clears his throat. "This is Bucky. He's going to be staying with us for a while. He'll drive you to campus, pick you up, stay close during the day."
You blink. Frown.
"Why?"
"I received..." your father swallows like he hates the fact he has to tell you this, "another threat in the mail."
Bucky sees the way the words hit you. "You're still getting threats in the mail? Why didn't you tell me?"
Your father blinks. "What?"
"You told me the threats stopped."
"Sweetheart, that's not—"
"Dad." Your voice is gentle but firm. "You can't just hide things from me. If someone's threatening you, I need to know. What if something happened and I wasn't—" You stop. Swallow. "I need to know."
Your father reaches out, takes your hand. "I'm fine. I've been fine. The threats are about you, not me. That's why—"
"About me?" Your voice goes smaller.
Your father's face crumples slightly. "I was trying to protect you. I didn't want you to worry."
"Dad," you chide softly, already standing up to round his desk to reach him. "As much as you want me to be, I'm not a little girl anymore. I have to know these things."
You wrap your arms around him from the side, resting your head against his shoulder. Your father sags into the embrace like you're the only thing holding him up.
Bucky watches. Feels like he's intruding on something entirely private, so he looks away.
You pull away after a beat, scrubbing at your eyes with one hand. "And... Dad, I really... I don't think I need the protection. I can take care of myself."
Your father makes a sound — half laugh, half sob. "Sweetheart, I love you, but you once called me because you couldn't figure out how to open a pickle jar."
"That's different." Your cheeks are warm. "Pickle jars are designed to be impossible. That's a conspiracy. Everyone knows that."
Despite himself, Bucky feels his lips twitch upwards in amusement.
Your father shakes his head. "Baby, this isn't—"
"And I have pepper spray," you continue, gaining steam now. "In my bag. Right here." You pat your bag vaguely. "Somewhere. I think. I mean, I had it. It might have expired. Do they expire? That seems like something they should tell you on the package."
"Plus, I took that self defence class last year, remember? For two weeks. Well, one week. I sprained my wrist and the instructor was kinda creepy so I stopped going, but I remember some of it. The basics. Like... elbow to the face. And screaming. I'm very good at screaming."
Bucky has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
Your father just looks at you with tired, sad eyes. "Sweetheart."
"I'm just saying." You deflate slightly. "Maybe we don't need to upend our whole lives. Maybe we just... get more pepper spray. The non-expired kind."
"I wish it were that simple."
You look at your hands, quiet for a moment. "Yeah, me too."
You're different, he realises. From all the other people he's had to protect.
Most people, when they find out someone wants to hurt them, get scared. Or angry. Or they make it everyone else's problem — snap at the security detail, demand impossible things, treat the whole situation like an inconvenience they shouldn't have to deal with.
You look up then. Catch him watching. And for a second, neither of you moves. Then you give him a small, tentative smile. Kind. One he doesn't feel like he deserves. His chest does something complicated.
"Hi," you whisper.
"Hi," he says back.
Your father clears his throat, drawing both your attention. He scrubs a hand over his face, suddenly looking every year of his age.
"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I should have done this properly." He gestures between you. "Sweetheart, this is James Barnes. He's—"
"Bucky," Bucky interrupts quietly. "Just Bucky."
Your father nods. "Bucky. He's... he's the best there is. I called in a favour."
You look at Bucky again. Really look this time. Your head tilts slightly, curious.
"Hi, Bucky," you say softly. "I'm—"
"I know who you are." The words come out rougher than he meant. He clears his throat. "I mean. Your father told me. About you."
Smooth, he thinks. Real smooth.
"Well, it's nice to meet you anyway. Even under..." You gesture vaguely at the room, at the situation. "All this."
Bucky nods. Doesn't trust his voice.
You turn back to your father, who's watching the exchange with tired eyes. You reach out to brush his shoulder. A small, unconscious gesture. Like you've done it a thousand times.
"I should go," you murmur. "Class."
Your father nods. "I know."
You lean in. Press a soft kiss to the top of his head. "Love you, Dad. It's gonna be okay."
And something in Bucky's chest cracks open.
He's barely known you for twenty minutes. He's watched you find out someone wants to hurt you, watched you comfort your father instead of falling apart, watched you make tiny jokes and smile and greet him like he's not totally messed up.
He's barely known you for twenty minutes and he'd die for you already.
The thought comes out of nowhere. Hits him square in the chest.
You straighten, turn back to him, give him this smile that's so soft he wishes he could keep it in his memory forever. "Ready when you are."
Bucky clears his throat and nods, standing up. "After you."
You pause at the door. Look back at your father one more time. "Dad? Try to get some sleep, okay? You look exhausted."
He waves a hand. "I'm fine, honey."
"You're not," you murmur gently. "But I'll stop nagging. For now."
Bucky watches as you disappear out the door. He moves to follow, but pauses for a second at your father's desk. "She's..." he starts. Doesn't know how to finish.
"Yeah." Your father's voice is rough. "She is."
Bucky looks toward the door. Thinks about the way you kissed your father's head. Thinks about the way you're probably waiting for him in the hall, patient and kind, not wanting to be a bother.
"I'll protect her with my life," he says quietly. "I swear."
Author’s Note: Bucky’s the perfect type of guy and no one can convince me otherwise (I’m sure you all agree :) thank you all so much for reading! Much love always🩷🩷🩷Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy🥰
Warnings: some fun, flirting, lots of fluff, bob’s a great wingman🤭
“What’re thinkin’ about?”
“Huh?” Bucky drags his eyes away from you and turns toward Bob.
“You seem deep in thought. What’s on your mind?” Bob asks.
“Nothin’ really,” Bucky answers, giving him a half-hearted smile.
“Nah, come on. You can tell me,” Bob says gently.
“What do you think she sees in guys like that?” Bucky asks, his eyes once again trained on you.
Bob follows his line of sight and purses his lips. “Nothing. She doesn’t look interested at all.”
Bucky scoffs and takes a slow sip of his beer. “That guy looks interested.”
“Obviously,” Bob says. “Who wouldn’t be.”
Bucky shifts his eyes to Bob and Bob immediately holds up his hands defensively. “I’m just saying. I get it.”
The metal plates in Bucky’s arm shift and whir under the leather of his jacket and he spins the beer bottle between his fingers as he thinks. “I don’t stand a chance.”
“What was that?” Bob asks, leaning forward.
Bucky just shakes his head, sighing and slumping over his beer.
“Why don’t you just ask her?”
“Ask her what? Bucky says.
“What she sees in them? Bob shoots back. “That’s the only way to find out.”
“Yeah, well….” Bucky can’t finish his sentence because you start to head their way.
“Now’s your chance,” Bob whispers before he smiles at you.
“What are you guys up to over here?” you ask when you stop in front of Bucky.
“Nothin’,” Bucky smiles at the same time Bob starts to say, “Bucky was just wondering what you see in those guys.”
Bucky shoots Bob a death glare.
“What guys?” you ask, your eyes on Bucky.
“Like the one you were talking to by the dart game,” Bob clarifies.
“Not my type at all,” you answer.
“Told ya so,” Bob says with a light elbow in Bucky’s shoulder.
“Well not your type is headed our way,” Bucky grumbles as he straightens his shoulders.
You turn to catch the guy that was chatting you up at darts heading your way.
“He just can’t take a hint,” you say under your breath.
“Hey, there you are,” the guy says as he slides up next to you. “I thought you were getting another drink.”
“I’m going to,” you start, “but I wanted to see my…”
Before you can finish the sentence, Bob chimes in and says, “boyfriend.”
“Who? You?” the guy says, pointing to Bob.
Bob starts to shake his head no and then Bucky stands and slides his arm around your waist, tucking you against his side and saying, “no. Me.”
Bob chuckles from behind you but quickly stifles it when Bucky narrows his eyes.
“You didn’t say you had a boyfriend,” the guy frowns.
“Well. I do,” you say as you rest your head on Bucky’s chest.
“I wouldn’t have spent so much time chatting you up if I didn’t think I had a chance of getting some,” the guy scoffs.
Your mouth falls open and you feel Bucky tense next to you. Even Bob slides around front and stands at your other side.
“Now that wasn’t the right thing to say,” Bucky grits out, his tone hard.
You turn your face up to Bucky and smile. “Now do you see why I’m not interested.”
Bucky smiles back and let’s his hand slide over the curve of your hip. “Yeah doll, I think I get it.”
The guy from darts just stands there, looking between the three of you.
“That was your cue to leave,” Bucky growls. “Unless you need me to make you…”
The guy throws his hands up in surrender and backs away, quickly turning on his heel before disappearing near the bathrooms.
“He was going on and on about his big tricked out truck outside,” you say, emphasizing the words “ big and tricked out,” with sarcasm and a roll of your eyes. “Too bad he didn’t get a look at your bike.”
You grin at Bucky when you say it and see his eyes light up.
“I’ll take you for a ride anytime you want doll face.”
“I could get used to this boyfriend thing,” you murmur, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.
“I think he’d like that.”
If your eyes weren’t already focused on Bucky’s lips you would have sworn he said the words. But his lips never moved, and it takes you a second to remember that Bob is still standing next to you.
You whip your head Bob’s way, and he smiles brightly and nods. Your head falls into Bucky’s chest, and you start to shake with laughter.
“What?” Bob asks with his eyebrows drawn in.
Bucky’s mouth lifts into a sideways grin. “Where’s Yelena?”
Bob’s eyes scan the room, and he finds her standing by the dart game with a knife poised between her fingers.
“About to play darts with her knife,” Bob says as if it’s nothing.
“Why don’t you go play with her,” Bucky says.
“I’ll never win,” Bob retorts.
You look over at Yelena and catch her eye, subtly conveying through the unspoken girl bond that you want her to get rid of Bob for you.
She naturally gets the idea and waves at Bob, motioning for him to come join her.
“See,” Bucky says, somewhat shocked but then looking down at you and giving you a knowing smile. “She wants you to play.”
Bob smiles and says goodbye as he rushes off to join her.
“I’d kick both their asses,” Bucky says.
“Of course you would Buck,” you reply and pat his chest.
“Thanks for saving me before,” you tell him, turning in his hold and wrapping your arms around his neck.
You give him a hug and then a soft kiss near the corner of his mouth. “I would never have gone home with that guy.”
Bucky’s quiet for a moment, still savoring the feel of your lips on his skin.
“So then…what’s your type?” he asks.
“Hm. Well…,” you start. “I prefer darker features…dark hair.”
You run your fingers lightly through the hair at the back of his neck. “And I love facial hair.”
Your fingertips trace the line of his jaw, gently scratching through his scruff. “Especially when there’s these little patches of gray.”
He sucks in a small breath, his eyelashes fluttering and the tops of his cheeks turning a light pink.
“Beautiful eyes…”
You hold his stare. “Especially framed by long dark lashes I wish I had.” You follow that statement with a little laugh.
“Your eyelashes are perfect,” he whispers, and you smile.
“But the most important thing is that he has a good heart.”
You follow those words with the flat press of your palm to his chest, right over the rapid thumping of his heart.
He closes his hand around yours, squeezing lightly as he tugs you closer and dips his head.
“Anything else?” he asks.
“A good kisser would be a big plus.”
“I think I can handle that,” he says, his warm breath fanning your lips.
He releases your hand, sliding it down along your arm to your back where his fingers splay and he gently brings you closer. The first contact is just a brush of his lips over yours, the briefest sweep.
You’re already sure it’s going to be the best kiss of your life and when you hear the quietest moan escape his throat he leans in again, pressing his soft, strong mouth to yours and taking your top lip between his, sucking gently, before he turns his attention to your bottom one.
With a smile forming against the kiss, he tilts his head and slides his hand at your back higher, cupping the nape of your neck and taking you with a heat you couldn’t have predicted but makes you feel like you’re free falling backward into the clouds.
His other hand smooths over the curve of your waist and up to rest warmly on your cheek, his thumb caressing your soft skin while he kisses you senseless.
Everything is quiet before you hear cheers from the back of the bar and he slowly releases you, pressing his lips to yours softly again and again before he pulls back.
“Bucky Barnes,” you whisper as you bury your face in his neck. “Are you trying to kill me?”
Yelena and Bob continue to clap, and he takes your chin between his fingers, bringing your eyes back to his.
“Nah doll. Just hoping that kiss was good enough to snag me a date.”
“A date? After that kiss I’ll marry you.”
“Even better,” he winks before his lips meet yours again.
pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader, a smidge of grumpy x sunshine
wc: 3.1k
warnings: use of nickname 'peaches.' long distance relationship
summary: after a three month long mission, bucky returns and he has a girlfriend. the team doesn't believe she exists
a/n: i loooooveeee this i hope u do too ! <3
⋆˚✶˚‧⋆｡˚
it was supposed to be a simple mission followed by a month long sabbatical. three months steve told bucky in between sets in the training room. two months to finish the mission, one month to just… explore. you need to get out, discover, to just- i don’t know… do something else besides be a soldier.
bucky had laughed at first. “coming from you? the world’s best soldier? that’s rich.”
“i know i’m not one to talk. but i care about you, buck. wakanda was good for you, i just want you to be at peace again.”
bucky hummed. “i’ll think about it.”
steve nodded, then after a beat, added “if not for you, do it for me.”
that was two weeks ago. now, bucky can’t even believe he’s packing his bags and loading onto the quinjet. alone. for the first time in almost 70 years, he’s afraid of something. of what, he doesn’t know. that’s what’s so nerve wracking about the entire ordeal – with hydra, he’d always known who to fear, who to submit to. when he was fighting on the field, there was always a bad guy, an alien, a man with a scepter. but this was out of his experience.
footsteps sound behind him. dropping his duffel bag by his backpack, bucky turns around calmly, trying to read steve’s face.
“you can call every once in awhile… if you want to. or just- you know. don’t forget your check ins.”
bucky nods. “it’s just a couple months, steve. i’ll be fine.”
he laughs a little. “i know. i don’t want you to think i’m pushing you to get out.”
“i know you’re not.” a hesitant smile spreads on his face. steve can see right through it, but he doesn’t comment, merely offering a hug. he pats bucky on the back as they always do, and once again, bucky is alone on the quinjet.
it was scary at first. chicago is so different from his little corner in brooklyn, safe in a bubble of familiarity. his apartment came pre-furnished, and felt more home-like than his bare apartment in new york. it was easy to play along, to act like he was playing a part on a mission.
but then he met you.
the walls of his facade started to crumble, and he found himself seeping into the soft sheets of his bed instead of a thin blanket on the hardwood floor. it became harder and harder for him to convince himself that he was faking the enjoyment of this trip.
you worked at the cafe nearby his apartment. his neighbor came home one day as bucky was leaving, and the smell of her coffee coupled with the croissant in her other hand was enough encouragement he needed to try out the restaurant.
the bell at the front alerted you of a new customer. you smiled while frothing some milk for an order, “i’ll be right with you!” you chirped sweetly.
the way you moved behind the counter had bucky in a trance the first time he laid eyes on you. the atmosphere around you was bubbling; it was as if bucky had walked right into a room of sunshine, and you were the star, beautiful and gentle and sweet. he wanted more.
dusting your hands on your apron, you stepped towards the register. “what can i get for you?”
a pause. worry was etched on bucky’s face.
“have you been here before?”
he shook his head. “i don’t know what to get, i’m sorry.”
you smiled again, soft and reassuring. it melted his insides. “that’s okay. would you like any suggestions?”
he finally grew the courage to look at your eyes. his mouth went a little dry, lips parted in shock. you were just so beautiful. he couldn’t describe it. “yeah.”
another comforting smile spread across your face and it soothed him immediately.
“i think our latte macchiato is one our yummiest drinks. i usually get the peach cobbler croissant. it’s amazing when it’s warm and gooey.”
“peach cobbler croissant?”
you nodded, “house original. don’t knock it ‘till you try it,” another smile.
this time, he smiled back. “okay, i’ll have those, then.”
“great!” you finished registering his order before moving back towards the various coffee machines, lightly singing along to the music playing. a few more people trickle in and out, and bucky takes his time admiring the quaint cafe.
“hey,” you lightly call. “i never got a name for that order.” you hold a cup of coffee in one hand, a sharpie in the other.
bucky steps closer to the counter, a sudden surge of confidence rippling through him like it used to back in the 30s. “can i give you a number for it too?”
your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. with a shy nod, you place his cup on the counter and take out a notepad from your apron. he recites his phone number and, with a grateful smile, leaves the shop. his legs almost give out as soon as he steps outside. he’s never been so nervous around a girl before.
he finished his mission two weeks earlier than planned. that gave him a month and a half to do whatever he wanted in the city. what he really wanted was you. every morning, he’d try a new drink and whatever breakfast special you had that day. and every day, at the end of your shift, bucky would walk you home. or sometimes, you’d walk to the park and sit on the bench and just talk.
by the second week of this, bucky asked you out on that bench.
⋆˚✶˚‧⋆｡˚
stepping into bucky’s apartment, you place your keys in the bowl by the front door, and drop your apron next to your shoes. bucky lounges on the couch, a book in his lap and the tv on low.
“peaches?” he closes his book. “why didn’t you call me? i would’ve come to get you.”
you hum, sliding onto the couch beside him. “didn’t wanna bother you.”
he tsks at you before kissing your forehead, pulling you into his side. “how was work?”
you shrug. “i saw the cutest dog. i gave her some whipped cream and it was so cute.”
he smiles, squeezing you close. “wanna watch tv and order in?”
you nod, shuffling to grab the remote and putting your feet in his lap. “wanna watch gilmore girls?”
he massages your sock-clad feet and hums in approval at your question.
it’s odd how quickly he let go of his life at home. something about you made him want to be everything he thought he could be before the war, before hydra, before everything. he does miss home – new york city, the avengers compound, his clanky washing machine, steve and yes, even sam. but the longer he spends here, the more his home starts to feel like you.
“i think i love you.” the words slip out before he can register them, and his hands freeze in the middle of massaging you. you turn your head slowly, eyes softening upon hearing his words. “i’m sorry, it’s way too soon to say that i don’t even know why i-”
“i love you too.” you cut in. “i think i’m falling in love with you, bucky barnes.”
his eyes well up and he tugs you closer. “really?”
you nod, a grin breaking out on your face. “really.”
seeing your smile makes him start to smile too. “i’m falling in love with you, too.”
when he kisses you, it’s tender and caring, and his hand cups your face gently. he tastes faintly of apricot jam, and you sigh into the kiss, tugging him closer. “i don’t want you to go.”
he rests his forehead against yours, frowning. “aww, peaches.” bucky places a feather-light kiss to your cheek. “i’ll miss you so much.”
you nod in acknowledgement. “don’t know what i’m gonna do without you here.”
“i’ll visit as much as i can, honey.”
you huff, sniffing just below his jaw, inhaling his scent. “i know,” you pout. “but i really love being around you.”
bucky can’t help his smile from forming. you’re just so cute, missing him already when he hasn’t even left yet.
“good thing i have two weeks left to spend as much time with my girl as possible.”
his fingers slip down to your waist, pressing into your sides. laughter bubbles from your throat as you try to pry him off you. bucky chuckles at you, the adorable giggles spewing from your mouth are enough to make him kiss you again.
“you’re so pretty, peaches.”
you huff, out of breath from the tickling. “yeah?” it’s your turn. “you think so?”
“what are you doing…”
“…nothing…”
“peach- hey!”
you attack his freakishly hard abdomen, squeezing the muscles with all your might until bucky pulls you up and plops you into his lap, laying back on the couch. satisfied, you rest your hands against his chest.
“i wonder what stevie’ll think of you.”
your brow quirks. “you mean… captain america?”
bucky laughs, “that’s not his real name.”
you slap his chest lightly. “i know that, silly.”
“don’t know how i got so lucky.” his eyes twinkle at you.
lacing your fingers with his, you give his hand a squeeze. “me too.”
⋆˚✶˚‧⋆｡˚
bucky skillfully lands the quinjet on the helicopter pad at the compound. after showing you all the cool gadgets on the plane, bucky was reluctant to leave your side, but you kissed him and promised to facetime as soon as he was settled in, and bucky couldn’t say no to that, so he kissed you goodbye and waved as he took off, never having been so sad to return to his home in new york.
strolling into the compound, his backpack dangles from his right shoulder as he holds his duffel bag in his metal hand. he makes his way to his room, passing wanda and vision in the kitchen who say ‘hello’ while making some sokovian dish.
while he unpacks, steve knocks on his door despite bucky leaving it open.
“hey, buck. how was it?”
closing his dresser drawer, bucky shifts towards steve who steps into the room.
“it was good. i think… you were right. i really needed that.”
“that’s awesome, man. i’m really happy for you. maybe we can talk about it tonight, have some beers and just catch up?”
bucky nods, already grinning to himself when he thinks about telling steve about you.
he showers, facetimes you for a good hour, before friday alerts him that dinner is ready. he finishes his call with you and heads towards the kitchen, finding sam and steve spread on a table with food. natasha and wanda have taken their plates to the tv, opting to watch a new episode of some show. peter and tony are too caught up in some math problem to leave the couch.
“what’s up, terminator?”
squinting at him, bucky grabs a beer and pops it open with his metal arm, taking a seat beside steve at the round table.
“so,” steve talks in between mouthfuls of food. “tell us about the trip.”
taking a gulp of beer, bucky bites the inside of his cheek. “i… met a girl.”
silence overtakes the three of them.
“what?”
“really?”
bucky nods, a blush already heating up his face.
“so… are you dating?” steve put his fork down to really look at bucky, still shocked at the sudden news. his friend nods in response.
“wow.” sam leans back in his chair. “i don’t believe it.”
“what?” it’s bucky’s turn to be shocked, eyebrows furrowing at sam’s confession. “what do you mean you don’t believe it?”
“you go on a three month long trip and suddenly you have a girlfriend for the first time in 70 years? no way.”
“sam, be nice.”
“i am being nice.” he loads up his fork for another bite. “i’m just saying i’ll believe it when i meet her.”
“well, she lives in chicago, bird-brain.”
“who lives in chicago?” natasha suddenly appears in front of them, an empty glass in her hand, presumably here to refill it.
“bucky’s girlfriend.”
“sam!” steve slaps his shoulder
natasha’s mouth drops open. “you got a girlfriend?!”
bucky’s mouth forms into a disapproving line. “yeah, and sam doesn’t believe she exists.”
she laughs at this, beckoning over wanda and tony.
bucky wants to hide in his room at the sudden amount of people staring at him.
“i’m with sam on this one.”
“really tony?” steve’s tone is teasing but he can’t help but feel bad for bucky. “you too?”
“i’ll believe it when i see it.”
“whatever.” bucky mumbles, his plate empty and beer gone. “you guys don’t have to believe me.”
“okay, buddy.” sam laughs. “good luck keeping up the act.”
⋆˚✶˚‧⋆｡˚
it’s been five months since bucky was first in chicago, and the team is nowhere near closer to believing in his relationship with you. they’ve walked in on him on the phone, smiling down at his text messages, him on call with you, even him calling a local flower shop in chicago to send you flowers. still, only steve believes you exist, but even he is starting to grow wary. somehow, bucky hasn’t shown any photographs of you, no letters, not even a video call to prove your existence.
“i don’t know what else to do, peaches.” bucky pouts into the phone. on the other end, you laugh softly.
“they still don’t believe you?”
“sam thought i was texting myself today. myself! i told him i don’t even know how to do that! when i tried to show him photo of you, he said it doesn’t count unless i’m in the photo with you. then he said something about shop photo.”
“... do you mean photoshop?”
“yes! that!”
you giggle at him again.
“this isn’t funny, peaches.”
“sounds awfully funny to me.” you can’t help but tease him. “why can’t you just put them on the phone?”
“they think i’m just gonna hire someone to pretend to be my girlfriend.”
you don’t respond for a second, merely humming. “i’m sure we’ll think of something.”
the conversation changes and after a few minutes, clint comes by to get bucky for training.
“hey, you’re late for training. steve is already downstairs waiting.”
“oh crap,” he pulls his phone closer to his ear. “i’m sorry, peaches. i gotta go. i love you.”
he hangs up after a moment and then moves to grab his gym bag.
“that your pretend girlfriend?” clint points to the phone.
bucky rolls his eyes. “not you, too.”
he raises his arms in defense. “sam has a good point.”
the two of them walk down the hall. “i don’t think he makes a good point.” he grumbles. clint laughs at him, entering the gym where nat and steve are sparring.
“he’s here.” sam calls out, alerting steve. “what were you doing? calling your fake girlfriend?”
“she’s not fake.”
“your make-believe girlfriend.”
“alright, sam,” steve interjects. “let’s just get started.”
by the time training ends, bucky just wants to cuddle on the couch with you and fall asleep. but you’re not here, and you haven’t texted him back since your phone call earlier. so, he’s stuck lounging on the couch, freshly showered, watching movies with the rest of the team for some “bonding” that steve insisted on.
“why wouldn’t they just exchange numbers if they clearly like each other?”
“because,” wanda turns to bruce. “she wants fate to bring them together.”
“fate is not a five dollar bill. fate already brought them together! they’re just denying it.”
before anyone else responds, friday alerts them of someone’s arrival.
“friday, who is it?” tony calls out.
“she is not in the stark catalog or the shield workforce database, sir.” she responds.
“how did she get in here, then?”
“miss potts approved of her.”
they all exchange glances until the elevator doors slide open and in it, you with your overnight bag.
stepping towards the group, you shyly call out. “bucky?”
he whips his head around, standing immediately. “peaches?”
a smile blooms across your face, dropping your bags to engulf him in a hug. he’s never hugged anyone so hard.
“what are you doing here?” he kisses the top of your head.
“i wanted to surprise you.” you speak quietly so only he can hear. “and i wanted to prove my existence” you giggle.
“who the fuck is that?”
“language.”
sam looks annoyingly at steve before focusing back on you two.
his jaw drops. “no way.” he scoffs. “no way she actually exists.”
“yeah, what?” tony looks around in shock. “and she just waltzes in here??”
you chuckle at the group of supers. “i thought you said they were smart.”
bucky laughs at your comment. “sometimes they are.”
“so you’re actually his girlfriend?” wanda studies you. “how did you meet?”
“bucky came to the cafe i work at.” you smile fondly at the memory. “we make the best peach cobbler croissants. i brought the recipe for you all to try.”
a few ears perk up at this.
“what’s bucky’s middle name?” sam quizzes. “if you’re really his girlfriend.”
bucky wants to slap his forehead.
“uhm… pretty sure bucky is his middle name.” you laugh out.
“oh.”
“that was a stupid question, sam.”
“i forgot!” he waves his hands around to dismiss what just happened. “what’s my middle name??”
“aren’t you supposed to be quizzing her about bucky?”
“not the point, peter.”
“you shouldn’t even be quizzing her.” bucky wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. “everyone, this is y/n. my girlfriend. my real girlfriend.”
the sight of affection from bucky causes a silence to settle over the group, as if that was the definitive determining factor in this whole ordeal.
“y/n, this is the team.”
you smile, waving at them.
“that’s steve.”
bucky points him out and steve immediately stands up, offering a hand. “it’s nice to finally meet you.”
you smile in response, the same soft one that had bucky falling for you in the first place.
“he’s the only one who actually believes you exist.” bucky whispers lowly into your ear, and the feel of his facial hair tickles you. “maybe we can all hang out later.” bucky announces, pulling you along towards the hallway to his room.
he shuts the door behind you, pulling you into his arms. “i can’t believe you’re here.”
you tug at his henley, dog tags clinking as you pull him closer, wanting to kiss him after being void of it for so long. “kiss me already, barnes.”
I love your writing! May I request more mob!bucky, please?
this is kinda trash but it's a cute drabble, i hope u like it! :)
the work hug J.B.
summary: mob!bucky saves you from someone bothering you
warnings: brief harassment and mentions of unwanted sexual attention, bucky being protective, f!reader
wc: 1.3k
⋆˚✶˚‧⋆｡˚
you’d taken the job because of the sign on bonus. you’d heard through the grapevine of mutual friends of a job offering high pay and immediate compensation. when the money hit your account, you didn’t bother asking questions.
maybe that was a mistake because now, you’re getting pressed up against the wall by a man nearly twice your age. he’s trapped you, and normally there are bodyguards all over the place but you can’t seem to find where they’ve all gone off to.
“please… leave me alone.” your voice comes out smaller than you wanted it to, but after repeatedly telling the man to stop harassing you, he only grew more determined to get what he was after.
“c’mon, pretty girl. just give me a taste.”
trying to squeeze past him, you drag yourself along the wall, but he comes with you. you’ve shifted to the right about 6 feet, a round piece of metal lodging itself into the small of your back before the wall gives out and you go tumbling backwards.
you had hit the doorknob of a door that was too easy to open. falling to the floor with a thud, you wince, leaning up on your hands only to be met with a room full of eyes all on you. your jaw drops, embarrassment flooding through you.
“what the fuck?”
you whip your head towards the end of the conference table where the voice came from. seated is a man with an arm of metal, glinting underneath a dress shirt rolled to his elbows. your boss. you scramble to get up, flustered and completely ashamed. the man with the metal arm makes his way towards you.
“what is going on?”
his voice is demanding and you try not to flinch.
“i’m- i’m sorry, sir. i swear i didn’t mean to barge in here, he was pushing me up against the door and i didn’t know where i was going an- and- and-” you’re on the verge of tears.
“get the fuck out.”
one slips down your cheek. then another. you’re trying not to sob.
as you’re about to comply, a hand reaches for your wrist.
“rumlow. leave.”
opening your eyes in shock, you watch as the man leaves his spot from the doorway. with a nod from bucky, a guard follows him out.
“are you okay?” his voice is softer now and his eyes finally settle on you.
he notes the tear streaks and wordlessly slips out of the room, leaving behind the men at his table.
“but sir, your meeting-”
he shushes you, pushing open the door to another room down the hallway. a mahogany desk sits comfortably in the middle of the room, bookshelves lining the walls. a set of matching armchairs are resting by the unlit fireplace.
“sit.”
you comply, feeling the warmth from his body leave your back. he goes off to the side of the room, coming back with a glass of water.
you take a feeble sip, keeping your head down.
“are you okay?”
“i’m sorry.”
“you didn’t answer my question, sweetheart.” he kneels in front of you, fingers lifting your chin to look at him. “are you okay?”
you nod. “yeah. i just… i was looking for you or one of the bodyguard-men-guys. they’re always around and when couldn’t i find one i got really scared and started to panic and…” you ramble and bucky tsks, his hand dropping to your knee to rub soothing circles.
“i’ll make sure to always have security for you.”
you look at him, his eyes holding something else in them.
“you don’t have to.”
“i oughta kill him for laying a hand on you.”
your jaw drops. “you- what?”
“he knows better than to fuck around at my business.”
you don’t respond, dwelling on his words.
“you can take the rest of the day off.” he stands, twirling a silver ring around a finger on his right hand. “i’ll have steve take you home.”
“but, i-”
bucky’s hand waves around, cutting you off, a light hum leaving his throat.
“but, sir-”
“what is it?” he turns back to you.
“i don’t… i don’t want to leave.” you admit, holding yourself with your arms and trying to make yourself smaller.
he frowns, bending down again to be eye level with you. “but i need to take care of rumlow, sweets. he needs to learn not to fuck around with me.”
this time, you frown too, staring at your knee in defeat.
your voice is small again, already ashamed at the words that are about to leave your mouth. “i don’t want to be alone.”
he tsks again and you can tell he’s mentally debating what to do next.
“can you give me fifteen minutes?”
“okay.” you try to smile but it’s not very convincing. “i’m sorry.”
“nothing to be sorry for.” he stands, softly rubbing your shoulder before making his way to the door. standing in the threshold, he beckons someone over but your chair faces away from the door so you don’t see who he interacts with. after some shuffling, a blonde-haired man hands you a blanket. you recognize him – steve – but you’ve yet to be introduced.
he sits in the other arm chair opposite you, offering a delicate smile and grabbing a remote to light the fireplace.
“he won’t be long.”
you nod, unsure what else to say. you wrap yourself in the blanket and stare off into the flames, dancing away in the soot-covered hollow. you hadn’t realized how cold you were.
the door behind you opens and you recognize bucky by the sound of his shoes.
“thank you steve, you can go.” he dismisses him, grabbing a fluffy rag and taking the seat steve just had.
bucky’s knuckles are already bruising, and he’s wiping off the remnants of some blood.
“did you… hurt him?”
a spark of remorse flickers across his face but then he clicks his jaw and sits up a little straighter.
“i had to.”
“because he bothered me?”
“yes.” he doesn’t snap, but he’s so confident in his response that it makes you wary to ask anything else.
“but you barely know me.”
at this, he shrugs.
“i hired you, didn’t i?” he chuckles.
“yeah but… still. i didn’t even meet you until today.”
he fiddles with his ring again. “alright then, sweets.” he carelessly puts the rag down on the table beside him. “why don’t i get to know you, then?” he muses at you, awaiting your response.
“oh.”
a deep chuckle leaves his throat.
“since you don’t want to be alone.”
you sit there in shock, still silent. he picks up a book, opening to the page with the bookmark placed neatly inside.
without glancing up, he speaks again, teasingly. “or is that not what you want?” his eyes soften when he sees you nervously bite your lip.
“can i have a hug?”
his shoulders slump like you’ve melted him. he thinks you’re so adorably innocent.
“i don’t know if i’m any good at those.”
you tilt your head at him, a smile forming. “you’re still human, even after becoming a mob boss.”
he smirks, “a mob boss, huh?”
your eyes widen, regret coursing through you. “i didn’t mean-!”
you stop speaking when he stands up, opening his arms and beckoning you to embrace him. slowly, you abandon the blanket and snake your arms around his waist, successfully nuzzling into the crook of his neck and exhaling.
“i haven’t done this in a long time.”
“what? hug?”
his chest rumbles in a gentle laugh. “yeah.”
letting out a big breath, you squeeze his middle like you’re trying to pull him closer. “well i think you’re doing great.”
bucky squeezes you back and as you inhale the scent of him, you realize he smells like something you want to call home. afraid of what you started, the fit of butterflies in your stomach erupts and after tonight, you know you’ve started something you can’t ignore. but maybe… bucky feels it too.
Does hozier owe the mob money or something? Like this man usually does 4-5 years between albums but we already got an ep after unreal unearth and now we are getting another? Like I’m very happy for more music but like did he sell his soul and now is trying to buy it back or something?
i always want to message ppl like "hii i am thinking about you & i adore you" but i never rly understood the social rules of engagement and i live in fear of secretly breaking them. so i won't tell you this but i do think of you and i do adore you, probably 7x more than i express
