summary: natasha likes to touch bucky's dog tags and bucky, well, he just wants to know why his favorite girl isn't talking to him.
They aren’t talking.
Bucky’s not sure why though because you guys were good. Great even. Always talking, laughing, and touching. A few things Bucky thought he wouldn’t be good at anymore, scared of more like, but he was good at it with you.
So why were you so distant? It wasn’t like you to shut him out.
“Did you drink all the coffee again, Barton? Have a death wish or something?” Tony commented.
Bucky ignored him — him and the team as they bickered over breakfast as usual. Instead, he sat on the couch, waited for you to come out and have breakfast with him.
Natasha came over and sat beside him. They made small talk until you emerged from your room.
Your hair was still messy, smile still soft, and you were drowning in clothes. Bucky’s heart skipped a few beats. He might of looked too excited to see you or had some look on his face because you ignored him and took a seat at the table instead.
“Wanna sit on my lap, Y/N? I know you must be tired of Barnes over there,” Sam flirted.
You laughed, shaking your head. Bucky wanted to punch the wall because sitting on his lap was your thing. Your morning, having breakfast, and sitting on his lap thing. His favorite part of the day thing.
It didn’t help that later that day when he walked into the training room, you walked out.
You took one glance at him and walked out.
Bucky was getting frustrated.
And it didn’t seem to stop. When the team came together for their usual hike, you took a spot next to Sam and walked next to him until you reached the top. Bucky stayed close behind and clenched his fists when Sam made a stupid joke to make you laugh.
Bucky was getting really, really frustrated.
He thought maybe when he leaned down to tie your shoelaces that some of the tension would go away, that he would feel better.
“Bucky...”
“Got it, sweetheart. Lift your foot up for me.”
You did.
“I can tie it myself; you know?”
He didn’t say anything.
“James.”
“Y/N,” he mocked.
You rolled your eyes.
“Keep your hand on my shoulder or you’ll fall.”
“I’m fine.”
“Y/N,” he sternly said. “I know you’re mad at me, but you can’t walk around like this. Just hold on to me.”
“You’re taking a long time and I can heal if…,” you mumbled. “and I’m not mad at you.”
“Really?”
You glared at him, “I’m not, Buck.”
Bucky sighed. “Seems like you are, and I know you are because I know you. Came to your room last night and it was locked. F.R.I.D.A.Y said you didn’t want to see anyone.”
“Had a nightmare?”
“Couldn’t sleep without you.”
You almost responded, almost, but Natasha came, and you didn’t know what to say. Couldn’t in fact, so you pulled away and walked away.
Bucky thinks he’s finally figured it out.
It was movie night the next time Bucky saw you and he’s wondered if you’ve asked F.R.I.D.A.Y for new routes so you could avoid him. Bucky was slowly losing his mind and he couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t, so when you walked out of the room and headed to kitchen, he decided to follow.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I’m getting popcorn.”
“Y/N,” Bucky breathed out. “I’m being serious.”
“Bucky, I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Well, I want to talk about— where are you going? Can you just stop — “
Bucky lifted you up and placed you on the kitchen counter. Placed himself right between your legs so you couldn’t move.
“Talk to me, sweetheart,” he placed his forehead on yours. “We haven’t talked in weeks. Did I do something wrong? Is it Natasha?”
“No. No, why would you think that?”
Bucky stared at you. God, he’s missed you — your eyes, your hands and your touch. Why wouldn’t you touch him? You always did and now…now it had been so long since he felt it, you, and he missed it. He missed how good it felt, how you felt against him.
You started playing with his dog tags.
Bucky swears his heart stops beating for a second. Swears he’s stopped breathing too because you weren’t touching him, no, but you were touching a part of him that meant a whole deal to him.
“Y/N, I — "
“Buck, you’re missing the movie. Steve’s about to have a oh— "Natasha interrupted.
You released your hand from the chain, “We should go.”
“Y/N.”
“Bucky, we need to go. Please let me go.”
He did.
He hated that he did, and he thought about it for the next week, till he was on his next mission. Maybe that’s why he was so distant with the team, why he didn’t pay attention to the briefing and Steve’s speech. He didn’t care, he didn’t.
It showed on the field.
Steve was mad.
“Why did Steve just tell me that you didn’t listen to the plan? That you ran into open fire? Let some guy punch you?”
Bucky didn’t respond to you. Just took a spot on the empty clinic chair.
“Is that what we’re doing now, Buck? Letting people punch us?”
Us.
Bucky shut his eyes and opened them back up to look at you. My God, you looked so angry. His girl was so angry at him.
Us.
Your hands were on his wounds in seconds and in seconds, Bucky was healed and, in more places, than just the parts that were beaten or bruised. You always reached more places than anyone else could, healed more parts of him than anyone else could.
“Are you going to talk to me?” You muttered, pressing your hand against his chest. “Buck?”
You slowly removed your hand, but Bucky grabbed it and placed right back on his chest.
“Just keep touching me, Y/N.”
You paused. Bucky watched as you got more red.
“Keep touching you? I thought you never wanted me to use my powers on you, thought the serum could heal it all. Are you even going to tell me what happened?" your voice was strong. "Did you really let this guy punch you? Beat you purple? Are you kidding, James? How could you let him?”
“How could you not talk to me?”
That shut you up. Bucky didn’t know if you understood what he was trying to say, hoped that you did because he really didn’t want to explain it — didn’t want to explain that he let himself get punched and beaten to have your hands on him.
“Never again, Buck. Never let anyone hurt you like this again.”
“Never not talk to me,” he admitted and pulled you onto his lap. His hands stayed on your hips, while your legs dangled off his lap.
You continued to place your hands on his wounded parts.
“She’s always near you.”
“Natasha?”
“Yeah…yeah and she’s always touching you,” you placed your hands on his dog tags. “Touching these and I know — I know how much they mean to you. How important they are, and you’ve never let anyone but....but”
“But you,” he finished, moving some strands of your hair away from your face. “Never let anyone but you touch them.”
“She has.”
“Never noticed. Too busy focusing on you.”
You shook your head.
“Sweetheart…”
Then you heard footsteps and out of corner of your eye, you saw that bright red hair and black bodysuit approach you and you almost got up — almost, but Bucky held your hips. Kept you in place and you heard him tell Natasha that he was busy, that he was doing something important.
You heard her walk out.
Then you wanted to say something, anything. Anything to get out of this situation, anything to fix all those red and purple spots on his body. Just anything, but you couldn’t. Walking away would’ve been so much easier.
“She’s nothing compared to you, sweetheart,” he confessed. “Nothing, okay? You’re everything.”
“Yeah, but — “
Then Bucky slipped off his dog tags and placed them around your neck.
“Everything,” he repeated.
You’re sure your world stopped. He was so good at making you speechless, always had been. Sometimes you wondered if he was made just to make you speechless. His lip was still a little busted and you reached up and ran your thumb across it, healed it in seconds.
“Promise you won’t do this again?”
“Promise you’ll talk to me?”
“Yeah,” you looked up at him, ran your hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’ll talk to you.”
“Same lips red, same eyes blue
Same white shirt, couple more tattoos
But it’s not you and it’s not me
Tastes so sweet, looks so real
Sounds like something that I used to feel
But I can’t touch what I see”
Friendly reminder to not support Autism speaks this April
They demonize autistics and make it look like having an autistic child is the worst thing that could happen to a parent
They aren’t run by autistics
They support autism moms™ that have written books detailing how “hard” it is for them. The books further push the stereotype that autistic children are out of control.
They have made advertisements saying autism will “ruin marriages.”
They don’t hire or listen to autistic people
They push for a cure for all autism. (In my opinion, a treatment for severe autism wouldn’t be that bad, so that people could choose live a life without the complications of severe cases, like meltdowns, sensory issues, and communication problems. But they want to cure all autism, and make it seem like it’s horrible.)
Support the Autism Self Advocacy Network instead!
It is run by autistics, for autistics.
Nothing about us without us!
(Also, if someone could add some links to the ads or stories I mentioned, that’d be amazing. I can’t rn, I’m in class.)
Warnings: Vulgar language, I think that’s it (it’s mainly fluff like Bucky’s)
Summary: You never were fond of history…but if history gives you a man like that? Maybe you could deal with it.
A/N: Here it is! A little later than I had hoped, but my brother is visiting, it was his birthday this week, work’s been a bit hectic, and I ended up writing a little something for Bucky’s birthday on Wednesday, which I didn’t mean to. I got it done, though! First Date with our dear Cap’n Spangles! I have all the First Date ideas for the other Avengers lined up, but I think I’m gonna put this on hiatus for now. I’m gonna try focusing on my College!AU at the moment. If you guys want, I’ll share my First Date plans, though. If I find time, I’ll write the next one. If you haven’t noticed, I have a fondness for collages, so I might do what I’m doing for my College!AU Project and make collages for the other First Dates before writing them. Anyways, enough with my ramblings. Enjoy the date!
AN: I also see fics of the typical reader waking up Bucky from his nightmares and I’ve previously written a fic like that also but I haven’t seen it the other way around so I figured this would be a cute little change
Summary: Bucky’s experience with nightmares finally does some good
Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 917 (just a short cute one)
Warnings: Fluffy Bucky
Bucky bolted up as he heard screaming.
At first he couldn’t tell if they were from his own dreams… He settled once he realised he was in his room.
He glanced over at the clock on the bedside table and it read 2:47am. It was the usual time for this.
Your screams hadn’t stopped but they had been muffled from where you had rolled over into your pillow.
Bucky sighed as he pushed himself off the bed and tugged a t-shirt over his head before making his way down the hall to your room.
You were covered in sweat, gripping hold of your pillow as you wailed into it. The sound was heartbreaking and cut into Bucky sharper than knives.
The sheets and pillows around you were soaked through from sweat and tears and so were your clothes.
Bucky crept forward.
“(Y/n).” He called your name as he reached forward and placed a hand on your upper arm.
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