summary ─ bucky swore. you were a personified wet dream of his, and somehow you fell right on his lap.
pairing ─ rockstar!bucky barnes x reader
warnings ─ smut, +18, one night stand, ok this version of rockstar bucky is a bit of an asshole i promise, making out, sex in bar bathroom, fingering, dirty talk, pet names, lovingly light degradation, car sex, unprotected sex, name calling, dry humping, semi-public sex
a/n ─ blame pam and tommy look lol. all mistakes are my own. the ending is a bit… weird but hope you like it! please leave a comment if you! thank youuu <33
The first time your eyes landed on the figure standing tall and dark in the middle of the crowd was at a bar where you were celebrating your birthday with your friends. With one look, you recognized who he was; there was no one in the world who didn’t know who he was. Everyone knew and listened to Soldiers; they have been breaking record after record ever since they won Eurovision two years ago.
That tall and dark figure belonged to their drummer, Bucky Barnes.
Hey writers! Everyone has their own style and yours is great. Some people’s writing is lush and descriptive and emotional, others are sparse and sleek and powerful, and others still are fast-paced and immediate and visceral. They all have their merits. No style is better than another. It’s all fine.
And! Not all of your pieces have to be one particular style either. Just because your last work was meandering or slow or heavy doesn’t mean your next can’t be sharp or quick or light. Don’t beat yourself up because you aren’t doing what you did in the last thing you wrote. That was a different piece, required a different mood. Do what works for you. Do what works for this story. Don’t worry about what others do or what you’ve done before.
summary. | He hopes you can feel it, because nobody else can heal it but you. Baby, but you.
warnings. | smut, hate fucking (ish), enemies to lover, slight angst, birthdays, degradation, praise, spitting, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, rough sex, yearning, crushing, riding, couch sex, breeding, possessiveness, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI AND DO NOT REPOST MY STORIES.
word count. | 3.6k
pairings. | Bucky Barnes x Reader.
a/n. | happy birthday @asadmarveltrashbag ilysm!!! thank you so much for being there for me since like day one, for being such a good role model and for just being amazing. thank you so much for listening to me rant and giving me advice, i’m so grateful for you. i hope your birthday is amazing today, i love you so much!! don’t forget to reblog! if you take ANY inspiration from my fics (and i’ll know, trust me) and you don’t give credit, you will be blocked and i’ll let others know.
He stands afar from you. A cold, calculated stare that you’re almost tempted to challenge with your killer one. There are only about two and a half meters of space separating you two, and even that’s not enough. You’re like a cat and a dog, constantly fighting about God knows what. Sometimes it’s the stupidest of things; other times, it’s the most reasonable. Either he has the television on too loud, or you come home too late. The other neighbours… Well, frankly, they don’t live here anymore.
It’s because they can’t handle his screaming when he has nightmares. You scoffed when you first heard it from your landlord, finding it absolutely insane that nobody is used to the sounds of a nightmare. As if they’re any better. You handle it like a champion, simply just putting on earbuds and your favourite songs at the lowest volume until you fall asleep. You almost feel bad for him when you see him with deep bags under his eyes.
But one short, snarky remark from him has the sympathy in you draining. Almost like the way his hands are the palest colour ever, and his skin doesn’t have the redness it should have. Almost as if the colours on a painting have been scraped off. You shouldn’t be noticing these things, really, but you just can’t help it. He’s almost a shell of the man he once was, at least in his words, but you believe that with some care (not from your hands, ew), he’ll be back to normal.
He shouldn’t notice the way you sigh every time you get home. The way you drag yourself through the carpeted hallway, out from the metal box that Bucky doesn’t trust. He doesn’t charge anything that has to do with heights, so that’s why he’s settled for the second floor. The drop in his stomach brings back so many memories that he can’t bear to remember.
Sometimes, he picks up the rumble of your stomach that he knows you’re embarrassed about, only because when it happens, you become the most fearful sailor to ever cross the shore. You always arrive right before Bucky falls asleep, leaving him at peace. ...No, no, no. It’s not like that. He totally doesn’t wait up until you come home safely before he can actually fall asleep so he can have a sense of calm. No, that’s absurd. Another absurd thing is the ungodly hour that you arrive home.
“Listen, you’re the one who bumped into me, okay? Let’s just leave it at that,” you huff, swinging your keychain between your fingers. Your digits are so soft, only ever coarse when you touch the skin between them. His hands, however, are almost the opposite. They’re rough and dry, but the crevices are a bit damp with sweat from pure nervousness. “No, no, you bumped into me, and we’re going to leave it at that, okay? Okay,” he nods, even though he’s talking to you.
“No, you bumped into me, and that’s that. Goodbye, Mr. Barnes,” you finish, throwing your bag over your shoulder and stomping down the hallways. You don’t look back once, simply just strutting your way to that darned elevator that you loathe. Suddenly, a hand wraps around your arm and turns you around. “I didn’t say you could go; we’re not done until I say we’re done,” he growls, gripping your arm tight enough to have you whimpering.
“No, fuck you. I’m tired of constantly listening to you bitch and moan about things that aren’t even my fault. God, it’s like you’re twenty fucking years old with no maturity, it’s fucking pathetic,” you spit, trying to yank your arm away. But compared to a supersoldier, your strength is equal to a cool spring breeze hitting a concrete building—basically nothing. Bucky’s chest heaves, and for a moment, you’re scared.
But even though he has a temper, he could never hurt you. He’s not the Winter Soldier; you’re sure of it.
His jaw clenches, and you stare at him intensely. Work is long forgotten, just like the fact that today is your birthday. That nervous, jittery feeling that would pool in the pits of your soul isn’t there. You wonder if it’s because you’re all grown up now, or maybe it’s because you’ve been so busy that your birthday seems like any other day in your eyes. Your eyes fall to his lips, almost on instinct. They’re pink and plump, slightly damp from the wetness on his tongue.
He gently pushes you inside his home, and you stumble back in shock. “I have to go to work–” you start, but he cuts you off. “I don’t give a shit. I need to teach you a lesson,” he snaps, pulling off his leather jacket. It has blue hues to it, sometimes grey if shone under the correct lighting. It’s overall black, suiting that dark soul of his that some people claim he has. You keep your mouth shut, clutching onto the strap of your backpack that rests on your right shoulder.
Suddenly, that fiery haze of yours has faded out, and you just watch him dumbfounded. Your jaw is slightly slack, but your eyes aren’t bulging out. Bucky pulls off the unusual leather gloves that always seemed to be a little too big on him. The space between his fingers and the cloth is always too much, and you even contemplated ‘accidentally’ giving him a new, better-fitting pair.
They flop onto the floor with an almost laughable sound, but you know you shouldn’t even dare to crack a smile. “Always going on and on about something. You just need to be shut up for once, don’t you?” Bucky questions, snapping his head towards you. “N- No…” you whisper, looking down to the ground. Suddenly, you prefer looking at wood floors to handsome men such as Bucky.
“Oh… Right, I forgot. You don’t know what’s good for you, that’s why you go to work and come home so late in the night. Bet you don’t have any time to fuck around with those pathetic twenty-year-old douchebags. That’s why you touch that little pussy of yours before you head to work, right?” he questions, and you gulp thickly.
Did he really hear it all?
“Please, I heard the way you finger fuck yourself in the shower all the way here. You really need to learn how to properly lock your door. You’re lucky those old ladies were here when I heard you, or else I would’ve come all the way over there and taught you a real good lesson,” he snaps, and you genuinely feel like doubting every little thing you do. “And you know what’s so funny, doll? I even hear the way you moan my name when you’re about to come,” he whispers, standing so close to you, and you wonder how he even managed to get here.
Your faces are inches away, His warm breath fans against your skin, and Bucky can feel the nervousness seeping through your pores. “Need a refresher? Or are you just going to stay quiet?” he questions, raising his eyebrows. He has a stupid smile on his face, and you’re not sure whether you want to kiss him or slap him. Both seem very appealing, but God, that devil on your shoulder always did have a loud voice.
Your bag joins his gloves on the floor, and you tilt your head upwards to kiss him. Your lips slowly slot against his, the taste of stale coffee immediately fills your mouth as Bucky shoves his tongue past your lips. He cups the side on your face, and your hands remain bent in the air. You don’t know what to do with yourself, so you place them on his shoulders, hoping for the best. He tenses up for a bit, and you start to pull away.
He doesn’t let you go too far. His hands keep you near him, and he stares into your eyes. Blue, blown-out orbs give Bucky an even darker look, and you’re practically sailing the same ship. “Don’t… Don’t go,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. “I won’t, but-” you begin, but he cuts you off with an open-mouthed kiss. It’s so rough, so passionate. Teeth and tongues clash at each other, and you whimper against him as his hands move from your face.
They run down your body before gripping your hips and pulling you closer to him. His front presses against yours, and you can feel his defined muscles through that black t-shirt of his. You wrap your arms around his neck, such a simple act and yet he’s swooning like the lovesick fool he is. No, no, no, he’s not lovesick, and he’s not swooning. He’s just wanting, and that is all, just like you are.
You roll your hips for friction, desperate for something. The faint feeling of Bucky’s hard cock sends shivers down your spine, and you just know he’s huge. He could probably split you in two if he really wants to, and maybe it’s what you want as well. God, just the mental image of his cock sliding in and out of you is so pleasurable. Wetness soaks your panties, and you moan into his mouth.
“Say ‘ah,’ slut,” he mumbles before pulling away from the kiss again. You quickly do so and watch as Bucky puckers his bruised, red lips. You’re not sure what to expect; a stupid, silly kiss or something else. Your tongue is stretched out inside your mouth, and you wait for him as your chest rises and falls. Your eyes watch him as he spits into your mouth, a wad of spit dripping onto your tongue and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets.
You quickly swallow it as if it’s some sort of antidote to an incurable disease. “Oh, you’re such a dirty fucking girl, aren’t you? I bet you’d let me do anything to you, right? Let me fuck you silly, throw you around, treat you like the spoiled brat you are,” Bucky growls with a fierce smirk on his stupidly gorgeous face. Sculpted by the Gods themselves, you wonder why the world has been so mean to him.
No, no, no, you don’t. You’re just desperate and needy.
“You really are stupid, and I haven’t even touched that little pussy of yours yet, and you can’t even answer a simple li’l question,” Bucky says out loud, expressing pure shame and disgrace. You shake your head before placing your hands back on his hard, defined chest. There’s a specific spot on his chest where the fabric is too sheer. You can see the way his soft hair has been shaved down to a mere stubble, and you wonder what he’d look like if it was grown out.
“I- I’m a dirty girl, I’d let you do anything to me, James,” you whisper to him, looking up at him with unintentional doe eyes. “I know, baby, I know,” he smirks before pushing you backwards. You expect to collide with the wooden floors harshly and startle the downstairs residents, or maybe even on a carpet that would try to break your fall but would end up failing.
You don’t expect to fall back onto a soft, cushioned couch. It’s more so an armchair that is a greyish-blue colour, one that you’d see and Ikea and want so bad, but you’d quickly change your mind once you see the whopping price it’s set at. Bucky towers over you, and you tilt your head up, still watching has the features of his face twitch a bit. His hands run down to your thighs, smoothing over the fabric of your jeans before his nimble yet strong, thick fingers reach to the button and zipper.
He makes quick work of stripping your clothes off for you, and you try your hardest to do the same for him. But flying, clashing hands that are oh so desperate can’t really do much. So as he pulls your wet panties down your feet, you hurriedly kick them to the floor. Bucky pulls his shirt over his head, and you’re not sure if you’ve lost it or if time truly has slowed down. You’re able to memorize each freckle, each scar, each mole and each muscle of his upper body.
He’s beautiful, absolutely beautiful. Though everyone has their measly little flaws that can be so bothersome, in your eyes, he has no flaws. “Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty, baby,” he breathlessly tells you, making you struggle to fight the cheerful smile that forces its way onto your face. “You’re pretty too, James,” you tell him, reaching backwards to unclasp your bra.
Now, there’s nothing special about it, really. It’s plain black, and in some areas, it physically pains you, leaving branded marks behind that feel good when you gently run your hands over them. Nonetheless, you look gorgeous with it on. But when it’s on the floor, treated like nothing, you’re even more beautiful. Your slick has stained your inner thighs with stickiness, and your clit throbs with need.
Bucky parts your legs, watching as strings of wetness pull apart from each other. “Fucking hell, is that all because of me, slut? Say it, tell me who you’re so wet for,” he demands, and your breathing hitches. “S’all for you, James, I’m so wet because of you,” you whisper to him, and he smirks devilishly. You clench around nothing but air, desperate for his cock to be inside you. “I want you so bad, James, please fuck me,” you beg to him desperately, and he chuckles.
Bucky goes to start taking off his pants, unbuckling his belt and pulling down the zipper that sometimes gets caught onto the fabric of his boxers a little too much. The black fabric slips off his skin like an extra layer of skin, and the sight of his hard cock beneath his briefs is so sexy. You let out a shaky breath, and you can just see how fucking huge he is. Impossibly long with a thickness that’ll leave you limping for at least a week or two.
“You know what’s so fucking hilarious, baby? Just moments ago, you were cursing me out, fuming at me and calling me pathetic, but look at you; you’re the pathetic one here. Practically drooling for my cock, so needy as soon as I put my hands on you,” Bucky scoffs, and you know he’s so right. He pulls down his boxers, and you watch as his cock springs out, slapping his lower abdomen and near his pretty Adonis bone.
He roughly pulls you up and sits down on the couch before dragging you onto his lap. You straddle the sides of his thick thighs, and his big cock presses right next to your pussy, between your legs. Beads of precum drip down the shaft of his cock, and some of it even sticks to your skin. “You want my cock, baby? Well, go ahead, you can have it,” he tells you, resting his hands on your hips.
You exhale nervously, knowing that his cock is gonna stretch you out so much, it’ll be borderline painful and pleasurable. You lift your hips up a bit, and Bucky’s hand grasps the base of his cock. He’s sticky and pulsating, a raging red that is almost purple if you squint your eyes enough. He drags it from your swollen little pearl all the way down to your drooling hole. The mild friction is absolutely amazing, making you moan softly.
Bucky shudders as he slowly pushes the tip of his cock inside of you. He almost wants to tease you so badly, make you beg for it until you’re sobbing and going all ditzy for him. But he’s not all the mean, and he can’t possibly be so cruel to the birthday girl. In one swift motion, Bucky pulls you down onto his cock, burying himself inside of you. You toss your head back and cry out as he stretches you painfully. The wet squelching pounds of your pussy are loud, but your moans are much louder.
He curses and bites down on his bottom lip, falling in love with the way your pussy hugs him tightly and the velvet feeling of your walls. No, no, no, he is not falling in love. He’s just desperate, that’s all. It takes you both a few seconds to adjust, and the painful stretch dulls down to immense pleasure. You struggle to control your breathing, though, because you’ve never taken anyone or anything as big and him. Months of wanting and needing him have finally come down to this, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.
He hopes you can feel it because nobody can heal it but you. Every single day he thinks about you, and his heart hurts. His heart hurts when he watches you leave and come home, it hurts when you both fight, and it hurts when he believes you could never love him. His mind still tells him that, and yet here you are, riding his cock on your birthday. He notices the way your bottom lip wobbles a bit, and he pities you.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby, you’re doing so good. Ride my cock, birthday girl, I know you can do it,” Bucky praises with the most innocent smile ever. You nod your head and slowly begin to rock your hips, moving them up and down his cock. Bucky is torn; he doesn’t know whether he should stare at your pretty face or at where you’re both connected. Your slick coats his cock and leaves it glistening, and he watches as it disappears and reappears over and over.
His hand returns back onto your hips, and he gently guides you up and down his cock. Your pained whimpers soon turn to loud, slutty, desperate moans, and Bucky begins to fuck up into your cunt, meeting you at every thrust. “Fuck, yeah, that’s my good girl. Riding my cock so fucking good,” Bucky coos, and you can’t help but giggle. Warmth fills your chest, and pleasure blooms immensely in your core, and it’s the exact same for Bucky.
His balls slap against your ass, and his cock drives in and out of you. You ride him at a quicker pace, moaning loudly, and he nudges against your sweet spot. “You look so fucking sexy riding my cock, baby. Could watch you forever an’ ever,” Bucky purrs, gripping your hips even tighter. Electricity crackles up your spine, almost like a burning wire in a destroyed fuse box. Everything is so sensitive, and the searing pleasure builds up inside the two of you.
Beads of sweat drip down your neck, and it is the same for Bucky. His skin shines just like his cock does, and the veins on the side of it throb with every movement. The wet noises and the sound of skin on skin fills the room almost impressively. The neighbours would’ve already filed noise complaints if they still lived here, but they don’t. So Bucky’ll fuck your brains out until you can’t make a sound.
“Fuck, you’re close, aren’t you? Can feel the way that nice little cunt is squeezin’ my cock,” he groans, staring up at you with his jaw slightly slacked. Your eyes have glazed over, and you stare at Bucky’s face. You ride him using his dick for all your needs and wants. It’s just like you’ve imagined, even down to the pleasure you’re feeling. “Mhm, gonna come all over your big cock,” you whimper at a specific thrust.
And he’s close too. Though the serum should make him last longer, your pussy just defies those rules. He fucks into you faster and rougher, and your legs have turned to jelly. You collapse onto his chest and let him pound your pussy into oblivion. Bucky’s chest rumbles with a chain of moan and curses, and you look up at him. His metal arm is icy cold, just like his eyes. But his orbs are darker than regular ice. They resemble black ice more than anything.
The elastic band in your stomach twists up tightly until it can’t do anything but snap. And so it does. The dam breaks, and you’re suddenly coming around Bucky’s cock. Your cum coats his cock and drips down his balls as your body seizes up. Your jaw falls open, and your eyes roll back while you moan loudly. “Fuck, you look so pretty when you come,” Bucky breathes, letting your head fall into the crook of his neck.
You cry out loudly as Bucky sloppily fucks you through your orgasm and chases his own. “I’m gonna fill you up with my cum, knock you up with my kids. Fuck, you’d look so hot with a bump, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of your body,” he moans deeply, feeling his balls tighten up. He tosses his head back and curses, hitting his release. Ropes of cum shoot inside your cunt, painting your walls and even leaking out a bit. Somewhere, deep down inside Bucky, he truly hopes it sticks.
He moans loudly as his hips give a few shallow thrusts, prolonging his orgasm. You both sigh, slick with sweat and other bodily fluids that neither of you cares about. “Happy birthday…” Bucky whispers, pressing a kiss on the side of your head. “T- Thank you… How’d you know, though?” you question, even though his cock is still inside you. “Just did… Listen, I’m sorry–” he starts, but you cut him off. “Shh, I don’t care about anything but you, baby,” you tell him, whispering gently.
Series based on the Show - updates every Friday as new episodes come out!
Series Warnings: !SPOILERS!, Lots of Angst, Fluff, Some Idiocy, Cursing, Slow-Burn (I’m sorry, it was an accident!)
*Please don’t repost this anywhere! Especially without my permission! I’ve worked hard on this and these characters are very dear to me so please don’t repost! Thank you to everyone who helped with the scare I just had! I just started posting my work this year so I’m new to that kind of thing! *
1) His Only Contact - Takes place after Episode 1; Angst and Fluff, phone call between Reader and Bucky; Bucky’s Perspective (Also written for HBC’s Lucky in Love, Day 19 Prompt: Odds)
2) Not Your Captain - Takes place right before Episode 2; Lots of Angst and feelings between Reader and Bucky; Reader’s Perspective
3) Inner Conflict - Takes place during Episode 2; a little more action packed and scene-for-scene of the show than the previous two parts; Reader’s Perspective
3.5) Rocks, Shoulders, and Ears - Second Half of Inner Conflict; loads of Angst!; the Couples Therapy Scene; Reader’s Perspective
4) In Need of a Breath - First Part of the Third Episode; Zemo’s Entrance; Reader’s Perspective
4.2) Suits, Dress, and Heels - Second Part of the Third Episode; First Half of Madripoor; Sharon’s Entrance; Reader’s Perspective
4.3) It’s All in the Perspective - Third and Final Part of the Third Episode; Second half of Madripoor; Mainly Reader’s Perspective
5) Right From Left - First Part of the Fourth Episode; First little bit in Latvia before Walker comes in; Reader’s Perspective
5.2) The Shield - Second and Final Part of the Fourth episode; Walker, Karli, Zemo, Everything; Proceed with Caution on This One; Reader’s Perspective
6) It Always Ends in a Fight - Very First Part of the Fifth episode; Warehouse Fighting Scene; Reader’s Perspective
6.2) Windows Down, Music Up - Second Part of the Fifth Episode; Doesn’t Have Much of the Actual Show in it Besides Zemo Getting Arrested; Reader’s Perspective
6.3) The Conversation - Third and Final Part of the Fifth Episode; Feelings and Fluff; Louisiana Scenes; Mostly Reader’s Perspective
7) Home - The Only Part of Episode Six; The FINALE; Reader’s Perspective
One Shots of Reader’s Backstory - NOT BUCKY X READER
It’s more Avengers x Reader with a heavy emphasis on Steve x Reader, but it’s platonic! I’m gonna try to do it chronologically.
Read Series Before!
One Shot #1: Back to the Beginning - Reader Meets Captain Steve Rogers; Takes place directly after Captain America: The First Avenger in 2011
One Shot #2: The Beginning of a Family - Reader Meets the Avengers; Takes place during the first half of The Avengers in 2012
One Shot #3: Stars, Stripes, and Bubbles - Reader and Steve have some fun in the kitchen; Takes place right after Steve’s mission in the beginning of Captain America: The Winter Soldier in 2014
One Shot #4: Best Girls, Good Guys, Hand Art, Joy Rides - Reader Meets Sam Wilson; Takes place during Captain America: The Winter Soldier in 2014 before/during/after Sam’s VA session
One Shot #5: Reminiscing - Reader Learns about Bucky Barnes; A little out of order; Takes Place before CA: TWS, before Reader and Steve move to D.C., so before One Shot #3 and 4 (2012-2013 ish)
One Shot #6: No One Said Anything About a Metal Arm - Reader Unofficially Meets Bucky Barnes Or, More Accurately, The Winter Soldier; Takes place during the end of Captain America: The Winter Soldier in 2014
One Shot #7: Revels - Reader Parties with the Avengers; Takes place during the Avengers: Age of Ultron Party Scene in 2015
summary: y/n is moving back in with her parents after breaking up with her college boyfriend. due to an emergency at work, y/n’s dad is unable to pick her up and sends his friend bucky in his stead. to bucky’s surprise, y/n is no longer the innocent girl he remembers from years back.
pairing: dbf!bucky x reader
word count: 1.9k
warnings: age gap [reader is around 22 & bucky is 39], revelations of sexy thoughts; heaps of sexual tension; mentions of teenage sexual awakening from reader’s perspective [nothing creepy just real ass self discovery shit]; cursing
a/n: dbf bucky is my religion. let me know if you want a part two x
Summary: For days at a time, all Bucky could think about was you. He wanted to have you in his arms constantly ever since he’d taught you how to dance. And after a sleepless night of research, he has a surprise planned for you.
Ch 4 of the Neighbors Series | Masterlist | Ch. 4 | Ch. 6
Warnings: mild cursing, pure fluff, pet names, teasing/banter, excessive pining (it’s getting pretty bad), I think that’s it? It’s pretty tooth-rotting, let me know if I missed anything!
AN: Is that a change of scenery? And new characters? Whaaaaaat? 😂 This is a monster of a chapter and I’m afraid they might only get bigger 😬 I’m so excited to be introducing this little plotline for them, it’s so important for their story and I hope you all enjoy it! Thank you to my love @deceiverofgodss as always for helping me work through this, I think this is the fourth iteration this chapter has gone through? And the big dance move this chapter can be found here, from my favorite reference video 💖 Thanks for putting up with my nonsense, I hope you guys enjoy! 🥰
Playlists: Side A | Side B
For days at a time, all Bucky could think about was you. He wanted to have you in his arms constantly ever since he’d taught you how to dance, and he was running out of excuses to use when he wanted to cut you off mid-sentence and dance with you in the living room.
Currently, it was practice. Teaching you different moves and tricks, building your confidence. Hell, he was actively looking up references to tricks he knew once upon a time just so that he had more to teach you. To both his delight and his disappointment you were learning quickly, and he feared how long it would take before he ran out of excuses to dance with you.
“Where do people go dancing now?” He asked one day from his spot on your couch, your legs in his lap as you read – or tried to read – your perspective books. He hoped he’d managed to sound as casual and off-hand as he’d planned.
“Well, people usually go to clubs, but that’s a different kind of dancing. You don’t really have to know what you’re doing to have a good time,” you started with a shrug. “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, it was just…” He shrugged back, gesturing with his book. “They keep talking about it, I got curious.” While it wasn’t a lie, he elected to leave out the fact that he’d pretended to read this same section of his book for the past few days, just to give himself an excuse to bring it up. “Are there places to swing, or is it just whatever happens in clubs?”
“I mean, there are some places that pop up, I’ve seen videos of people dancing like that but it’s never clear where. Whether they only do it on certain nights or it just exists, I’ve never really looked into it.” You explained before giving him a knowing look. “You telling me you don’t like having to move my coffee table to dance?” He faltered for a second before he laughed at the playful jab.
“It’s part of the routine, what are you talking about?” He threw back, earning a light giggle from you. “No, I just… you wanted to dance, I didn’t know if there was a place to go do that. You know, the old-fashioned way.”
“Like you?” He rolled his eyes and turned back to his book, now finally being able to continue reading but unable to focus on a single word, having to read paragraphs multiple times before they finally stuck.
That same night as he lay awake, desperate to get his mind off of the recurring nightmare that had woken him up for the fourth time this week alone, he launched into action. The sitcom he’d put on for noise faded into the background as he sat perched on his couch with his phone in his hand, scouring the expanse of the internet for what he was looking for.
Dance groups, jazz nights at a lounge, clubs that might give him some sort of chance… but nothing gave him what he wanted. The groups had fees and rules, competitions and costumes, and made your living room far more desirable. Lounges didn’t usually warrant a dance floor, the focus was on the band and their performance. And more often than not, the homepage of each club’s website told him everything he needed to know; that it was practically the exact opposite of what he was looking for.
And then he saw it. He couldn’t remember what combination of words he’d tried this time, nor how long he’d been sitting there looking for it, but as the sky started to change color behind his blinds he’d found his perfect solution. It almost seemed too good to be true.
He’d caught you on your way out the door, a sorry excuse for a quick breakfast in your hand as you scurried out the door, taking the time to smile warmly at him on your way out.
“Where are you headed this morning?” you’d asked as you locked up.
“I’ve just got something to go take care of,” Bucky tried, wanting to tell you as little about today’s plans as possible. You shot him a look, brows furrowed and tight-lipped, and he could hear you telling him it wasn’t a real answer. But with a glance at your watch, you let him off with a roll of your eyes.
“Alright, keep your secrets for now. But I wanna hear about it when I get home later,” you demanded, pointing your keys at him. He simply tilted his head to the side, not promising any kind of answer before he turned on his heel and made his way down the stairs, taking no care to hide his chuckle at your huff of irritation.
After a morning of crossing one more name off of his list – in his own way – he gave his perfect solution a visit to figure out what was true. By the time he’d finished his early lunch and gotten his information out of the young waitress, he knew the diner was exactly what he was looking for.
But of course, he was going to have his fun with it. And by the time you were changed into sweatpants at the end of your day, helping him put together an easy dinner, you still had gotten no answer.
“You still haven’t told me about what you had to ‘take care of’ today,” you interrogated as you served yourself a portion of the casserole concoction the two of you had created, a new version of an old recipe he’d wanted to try. He only smiled mischievously at you as he dug in.
“This is good, you were right about the garlic,” he mused, deflecting the question.
“James,” you groaned pointedly, almost begging him not to leave you in suspense any longer.
“Okay, okay… there’s a place I want to take you if you’re not busy tomorrow,” he finally offered, opting not only to leave out the entire first errand but to hide the rest of it in plain sight.
“Oh really? Where?”
“I can’t tell you,” he smiled, watching in delight as you rolled your eyes at him. “But I will tell you to wear a dress.”
“... What kind of dress?”
“Just, something casual, comfortable… I- you’ll want to be wearing one, okay?”
"What is this, some kind of surprise date? What's going on?" you laughed, looking far more confused than you had earlier. He knew you were joking, but he faltered for a second before he played it off with a laugh, looking back down to his bowl. Bucky had to make more of a conscious effort than he thought in order to hide his reaction to the idea.
“No, just- trust me, it’ll be fun. I’ll come get you at 7.” He tried to finish with some sort of smooth cocky air he would when he asked girls out so many years ago, but based on the grin creeping up on your face, he probably hadn’t succeeded.
“Did you just drop the ‘I’ll pick you up at 7?’ Come on, you have to tell me something else about this mystery date, you can’t leave me hanging!”
“I can, and I will. Tell me about work.”
“Bucky-”
“Doll.” You stopped trying to fight back and looked at him, and he took his chance to lean in closer for emphasis. “Just trust me.” You kept looking at him for a few more moments, before shaking your head in resignation. He leaned back against the counter and listened to you talk about your day, absolutely giddy with excitement for what he had planned.
-
Wear a dress.
That’s it. That’s all he told you. Wear a casual, comfortable dress. That could mean anything. And even after digging through the contents of your closet for probably the fourth time in the last hour, you still had no clue what you were going to wear. Glancing at the time on your phone, you still had quite a few hours before seven, and it felt like far too long.
The whole ordeal was very out of character for Bucky. He was a homebody, reasonably so. He would accompany you to the grocery store or out to get food nearby, and you always enjoyed your trips to the library, trying to be quiet when you would make fun of book descriptions or continue to load interesting ones into his arms. He took long walks, went on vague errands, and spent time with Yori, but other than that? Bucky liked being with you in your apartment. Your Saturdays had come to be filled with dancing in the living room or cooking after he got home from his appointments with Dr. Raynor, and having to wait until seven to see him was making you go a little stir-crazy.
Noticing the time, you knew he would be free from Raynor’s hold and sent him a text.
Do I have to wait until seven to see you? Or can we bend the mystery date rules? ;)
Already on my way back. I’ll be at yours in 15.
You couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your face at his quick response, setting to decorate your bed with different options to present him with. He’d fallen right into your trap; if he wouldn’t tell you anything about where you were going, he could at least do his part to assist you.
“Your instructions were not helpful, I need your opinion,” you stated as soon as you opened the door to him, his knock appearing at the exact time he said he would, almost down to the second.
“Well hello to you too,” he teased, amused as you grabbed his hand and dragged him through your apartment. “It’s just a dress, doll.”
“James.” He could hear your eye roll as you walked him into your bedroom, somewhere he’d only been on chance occasions. “You had a sister. You should know that ‘wear a dress’ could mean like eight different things. Comfortable and casual only limits that to about four.”
Bucky surveyed the dresses on your bed and seemed to understand what you meant, immediately going to reorganize the options you’d laid out for him. He had his brows furrowed as he focused, moving the maxi dress to the side with your classic little black dress, which you caught him eyeing but couldn’t determine why. He examined the last two for a little longer, holding the ends of the skirts between his thumbs and pointer fingers to fan them out.
“I- these two will work…” he started, seeming hesitant. “You have this one… can I?” he asked as he strode over to your closet like a man on a mission, stopping himself once he’d realized what he was doing.
“Go ahead, I’ve got nothing to hide. Not in my closet at least,” you assured with a tease, and he cocked a brow at you playfully, matching your smile as he opened it. “What are you looking for? It might be in the hamper.”
“No no, you haven’t worn it in a while,” he explained, beginning to rummage through your hangers once he’d navigated himself. “You have this little blue dress, I think it’s got a flower pattern on it? You wore it to… here.” You couldn’t help but smile a little bashfully at the dress he’d pulled out, surprised he’d known it so well. He laid the lightweight wrap dress out on the bed next to the other two, fiddling with the skirt of this one as well.
“So I should wear that one?” You asked as he continued to examine it, and he gave you a boyish grin when he looked back up at you.
“Or, you know… something like that one,” he shrugged. As he kept his hand on the skirt you tilted your head as if to ask if everything was okay. “This front piece just opens right up… you wear anything underneath it?”
“Yeah, I’ve got little shorts to wear in case there’s a particularly strong breeze.”
“Good. You should wear those. With this dress or any of them, wear something underneath.” You could only laugh a little nervously at his instructions, even more confused at his intentions now than ever.
“The more I find out about this, the more worried I get,” you managed, trying to focus on the dresses in front of you while you had a captive audience. “What are you wearing, maybe I’ll match your colors. You know, old-fashioned,” you poked, and you swore you watched his cheeks turn a slightly more pink shade as he smiled down at his shoes. His expression quickly changed though, his brows furrowed as he looked off to the side, thinking.
“That… that’s actually a good question,” he admitted, running a hand over his jaw. You did your best not to imagine what it would feel like to do it yourself.
“James, don’t tell me you forgot your own outfit,” you asked, catching yourself with an amused tone. He merely tried to hide a smile from you, knowing he’d already given you the answer. “Do you need to go take care of that? You still have time to go get something other than henleys and tight t-shirts if you need to,” you snarked.
“I might have to,” he laughed airily as he moved past you, leaving you laughing at him in your room on your own. After a beat, you heard the door open, and his exclamation followed only a second later. “Come lock your door!” You rolled your eyes with an exaggerated groan.
“At this rate, I’m just going to give you a key so you can lock it yourself,” you muttered, catching him give you a grumpy look from his doorway across the hall. His whole demeanor softened at your threat, shoulders dropping slightly as his blue eyes bore into yours.
“You’d trust me with that?” he asked gently, and it made your heart break.
“Of course, Buck.” You couldn’t quite place the look he was giving you. It seemed a little all over the place, like he was trying to keep his face as neutral as he could while emotions were swimming in his eyes. You could have stood there and watched him for longer than you’d like to admit, but you knew better, for your own sake. Instead, you tried to ground yourself a little, nodding at his apartment. “Go get yourself ready,” you managed to laugh.
“Right,” he said with a sharp inhale, moving to walk into his own apartment, giving you one final look. “I- I’ll see you at seven.” You nodded, assuring him with a smile as you closed your door and locked it behind you. And after taking a moment to compose yourself, you went back into your apartment to figure out what the hell you were going to do with yourself for the next few hours.
-
“How did you find this place?” You asked after a few more blocks than your usual endeavors took you, your arms linked in his as he tucked them into his pockets, his left arm mostly hidden by the new button-up. It had a subtle pattern that ended up matching the blue dress he’d picked out for you, and he wore it well. The top couple buttons were undone and you could see the chain of his tags peeking through. He’d originally had the sleeves rolled up as well, and while it was quite a look, he remembered just how out of place the vibranium was and opted to leave them down. “Did you take a walk and get lost or something?”
“I googled it,” he admitted sheepishly, unable to contain his excitement. Frankly, even with all the feelings you ignored being pushed aside, it was cute seeing him get so excited about something.
“Look at you, you’re not such a fossil after all,” you teased, and he gave you a look in feigned offense.
“Coming from the one who asks me to look things up all the time.”
“It was good practice, and it came in handy. You’re welcome.” He merely shook his head in amusement.
“Alright teach, we’re here,” he smiled as he nodded towards the building beside you. You were met with a colorful, old-school diner, the Neon lights above the door reading Morelli’s Diner. Bucky went to place his hand on the small of your back to walk you inside, your arm returning to your side as you took it all in.
Complete with black and white checkered floors, the rustic brick walls are a nice contrast to the brightly lit interior of the diner, red booths lining the walls to match the red barstools set up along the counters of the kitchen that seemed to be set up in the middle of the building. You noticed a jukebox in the back, black, white, and red to match the rest of the theme, feeling a little out of place in the less populated area in the back. All in all, it was very lively and cozy, the light chatter of the other patrons and sounds of the kitchen perfectly balanced with music that you couldn’t quite place playing through the restaurant.
You had to order food at the counter before you could escape to a booth, despite the handful of waitresses still serving tables. Bucky said you had made it in right at the cut-off, but for what you weren’t exactly sure. Your confusion was quickly replaced with delight when he had brought over your goods after having told you to go grab a booth near the back, his hands full with baskets of perfectly golden fries and sodas in classic glass bottles.
“What do you think?” he asked skeptically after you’d had a chance to take it all in. The hopeful and slightly concerned look on his face brought a soft smile to your cheeks.
“I love it! It’s cute.” He seemed to relax a little at your assurance, but there was still something that seemed to be keeping him tense, glancing at his watch and looking around every few moments. “I have a feeling you’re waiting for something else?”
Just as he opened his mouth to reply, the music playing overhead faded out and the lights dimmed slightly through the restaurant. There was clapping tall around you as people started getting up out of their seats to head to the back, the jukebox lighting up and a lively song playing through the speakers, louder than the music before it. You looked to Bucky to find him smiling brightly at you.
“What’s going on?” you asked quietly.
“You said places like this pop up, but hadn’t found one … they open up the dance floor here every night at eight. Saturdays are swing nights,” he explained, and you couldn’t help but keep looking at him in disbelief.
Bucky was a homebody, he didn’t go out just for the sake of going out. He just hadn’t gotten there yet, he preferred being at home or at your place, and you couldn’t blame him. Yet here he was, breaking out of his comfort zone just to take you out dancing. It was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for you by far, and his excitement through the day became so much more endearing. He made you feel heard, made you feel seen, like he understood you right to your core. And, against your better judgment, it made your heart flutter.
He glanced over at the dance floor with a grin, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he slipped out of the booth, moving to take your hands in his. “C’mon.”
“What about-”
“Leave it, we’ll be back. Come dance with me,” he pleaded as he led you gently up out of your seat. With the way he was looking at you, you couldn’t have told him no even if you wanted to.
Bucky felt his whole body light up as your face softened, smiling so brightly up at him as you let him lead you out to the dance floor, pulling you in close as he swung you into the crowd. Admittedly, it took him a second to get adjusted. He hadn’t danced in a crowd like this since the night before he shipped out, his practice in the living room with you being all he had in the last couple of decades.
As the song continued he found his rhythm and trusted his muscle memory, swinging you around as if he’d never stopped. You, however, were still tense as you struggled to find your footing. He could tell you didn’t trust yourself, wary of where you put your body in the foreign environment. That just wouldn’t do.
“You alright?” he asked as he pulled you closer to him, the moderate beat of the song allowing you to slow down for a moment. You put on a bigger smile as you nodded your head, trying to reassure him. He simply raised his eyebrows at you to tell you he wasn’t buying it. You dropped your shoulders in resignation before you answered.
“It’s really great, it’s fun, it’s just… different. I only know how to avoid the coffee table, not other people, I feel like I’m gonna hit someone,” you worried, looking around at the couples surrounding you. He couldn’t help but make a sound of amusement as he brought the hand in his to rest on his shoulder, hooking a vibranium finger under your chin to make you look at him.
“I’m not going to let you hit anyone,” he said gently. You made to argue, but he cut you off before anything could come out. “Hey. Just ignore them. It’s just you and me, just like at home, okay?”
If it wasn’t for the combination of sounds around you, he was sure you’d be able to hear his heart pounding against his chest. Home. He’d called your apartment home. Bucky had made such a conscious effort to differentiate your place and his, because after two months of practically living in your living room, he’d caught himself blurring the line between the two. But you hadn’t even batted an eye. In fact, his words seemed to help you relax a little more in his arms.
“I’ll always catch you, right?” You giggled warmly at his sentiment, a phrase the two of you had started using frequently with each other. Satisfied with your reaction, he took your hand back in his and started to swing you through the crowd, taking notice of how you kept meeting his gaze to ground yourself.
After a couple more songs, it was like the two of you had been doing it for years. You had completely let go, trusting him and responding to his cues without any reservations. You were singing along to songs you had played at home, and even ones that he’d never heard before, but he couldn’t help but happily watch you anyway. Bucky was sure this was his best idea yet. You looked like you belonged on the dance floor, and he was thriving off of the raw joy that you emanated; you were positively radiant.
“Are you holding out old man?” you shot at him, bringing him out of a daze. When he didn’t give you an answer, you gave him a mischievous grin. “You haven’t pulled out any of those tricks we’ve been working on. Let’s show them how it’s done.”
Oh, you were made for him.
He couldn’t help but match your expression as he grabbed you, swinging you out to his side and catching the pure joy illuminating your features. Reeling you back in, Bucky slipped one arm securely around your waist as he reached under the leg closest to him to hold you by your thigh. Perfectly fluent in his silent conversation, you grabbed his shoulder and kept the leg in his hands pointed straight out, allowing him to lift your body up towards his head. Resting your hips on his shoulder, his hold loosened for half a second so you could rotate as you released his shoulder. He leaned forward, and you curled one of your legs ever so slightly to follow the momentum that brought you around him, clinging onto his left shoulder on your way down, standing perfectly poised as Bucky unwrapped himself from around you so he could take your hand and spin you right back into his chest.
He was vaguely aware of the whoops and hollers around the two of you, but all he could see was you. Everything in his body was screaming at him to kiss you right then and there, in the middle of a room full of strangers, and it took all of his concentration not to.
This wasn’t a date. This wasn’t the time. You’re just dancing. It could change everything, it would change everything, and he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.
“How was that, doll?” He asked, a little out of breath as he tried to compose himself. Your exuberant giggle was all he needed to hear.
“That was perfect,” you sighed. His cheeks were starting to hurt as the smile on his face grew impossibly larger, still holding onto you like the music hadn’t changed. You unwrapped yourself from his hold to take his hand in yours. “I need a drink before we do that again.”
He was in a different world as you dragged him back to the table, body blindly following you as only one thought occupied his brain. You were perfect.
-
That following Monday you found yourself working right through your lunch, a premade salad next to the keyboard as you tried to eliminate as much paperwork as you possibly could to save yourself from having to do it later. It was monotonous and took little focus to complete, so you welcomed the company of your confidants in the small space beside the desk, the handful of you hiding from the rest of your coworkers.
“It was wild! I didn’t have high hopes, but that place was fantastic, I really wish you guys could’ve come!” One of the girls explained, catching you up on the weekend adventure two of them had. Some new club that had opened up or something, you hadn’t cared much when they’d proposed the idea Saturday morning.
“Yeah? And how was the hangover?” You shot with a grin.
“Horrible, but so worth it.” The other replied, a round of laughter following. She waited for it to subside before continuing. “You said you had plans, fill us in! Are we talking about binging Netflix plans, or actually leaving the house plans?”
“I’m putting in my guess now, she always does stuff with James over the weekend,” River piped up before you could respond. “Did you have a Lord of the Rings marathon? That’s the movie you said he liked, right?” You rolled your eyes with a smile as she sipped on what had to be coffee number three.
River was your favorite among your little group, the two of you just clicked. When you had first met, she was soft-spoken and reserved, but after enough side-eye glances during meetings that could definitely have been an email, you made a point to get to know each other better. And what you found was a sweetly sarcastic, caffeine-addicted powerhouse who never failed to brighten your day. She teased in good humor, knowing just how far was too far, and when was just right. Like right now.
“We actually left the house, thank you very much,” you retorted, looking at her pointedly. But as you remembered your evening with Bucky, you couldn’t help the bashful smile that forced its way onto your cheeks. “It was actually really sweet, he took me to this retro diner he found where they open the back half for dancing, jukebox and all.”
“Hold on, do you mean Morelli’s? By the barbershop and the tattoo place?” River asked.
“Yeah, with the kitchen in the middle?”
“No way, I go there for lunch all the time! I had no idea they did that!” She explained excitedly. While an unexpected coincidence, you couldn’t say you were surprised. She’d clued you in to her taste for retro music and clothing, the two of you even had a couple of overlaps in your vinyl collections. “Are you guys thinking of going next week?"
As you went to answer, your words got caught in your throat. You hadn’t thought that far… of course you wanted to go again, dancing with Bucky in such a lively environment had made you feel electric. You didn’t have to worry about flipping the record every so often, and the unpredictable shuffle of songs made each dance a brand new experience. But the diner was also crowded, noisy, and wasn’t the kind of place Bucky frequented often since you’d known him. Would he be comfortable going back each week, if at all?
“You know, I’m not sure… ” you reasoned after a moment, trying to downplay how much this would eat at you through the day.
“Well if you do, let me know! I’d love to join you guys sometime, finally meet James instead of just hearing you gush about him.” A chorus of giggles followed, and you laughed it off as you turned back to the file open on the desktop screen, trying to ease your worries as the conversation continued.
But of course, you wouldn't be so lucky. It was such a small thing, whether he wanted to go back or not. It’s not like you would stop dancing altogether, right? But no matter what logical reasoning you came up with, your worries couldn’t be comforted. He’d gone to all the effort of finding the place, going on the right night… but had it been a one-off thing, just to put a check in the box? You’d gotten a taste of what the James Barnes was like on the dance floor, and you wanted more. If it hadn’t been clear to you why he was so popular with women of his time, it was now.
It occupied your thoughts up until you were seated on your couch later that evening, watching as the super-soldier turned away from the record player and began eyeing the coffee table, the telltale sign that he wanted to do something about it. Your stomach was twisting itself in a knot at the thought of opening your mouth to say anything, and he caught you looking as you worked yourself up.
“You alright, peach?” he asked softly, striding over to sit on the opposite corner of the couch. “You’ve been kinda quiet, did something happen at work?”
“Yeah, I’m alright,” you sighed, the corners of your lips tilting up at his gesture. But you could tell he was waiting for you to elaborate, ever observant, like he was tuned in to your attitudes and emotions. “I was talking with the girls at work today, sharing stories about the weekend. Turns out my friend River goes to Morelli’s too, she had no idea about the dancing.” As you watched his sheepish reaction, the knot in your stomach reminded you of its presence.
“What did you think of it? Really?” he asked earnestly, his eyebrows raised and his eyes brimming with hidden questions. He looked concerned, and you felt your heart pang with sympathy.
“I loved it, Bucky,” you answered softly before your brain could tell you otherwise. When you were rewarded with the relief that washed across his face, the knot untied itself and you couldn’t help but let out a breath as the tension left your body. “You know I like dancing with you, doesn’t matter where. But the diner was fun.” He let out a chuckle under his breath, and you could feel it heating your cheeks as you sat together in silence for a few moments.
“Their website did say every Saturday… would you want to go again?” he asked hesitantly. You couldn’t help the nervous laugh that escaped you, and you did your best to recover quick enough to remedy the look of confusion on his face.
“I have been trying to figure out how to ask you that all night,” you admitted, and your chest filled with warmth as he began laughing with you, a sound coming from deep within him. When the two of you finally calmed down he turned to look at you, his arm draped around the couch behind you. You had to look away after a while, your cheeks threatening to reveal you.
“If you want, we could go every week?” you asked hesitantly. “Go dancing instead of trying to figure out what movie to watch every Saturday.” When you felt brave enough to meet his gaze again, you were met with a cocky smirk on his face.
"I think if we're gonna be going every week we need to keep practicing,” he teased, quickly moving from the couch to approach the record player again, moving the needle to find a specific song. “Gotta impress your friends.”
“I think they’d be impressed by the easy stuff, they don’t dance like we do. If you can call what they do dancing,” you reasoned, and he chuckled as he turned back to you, the notes from the last song on the record filtered through the speakers. You made a scrunchy face at him when you recognized it. "Bucky, this is a slow song.”
“And? C’mere,” he defended, taking your hand and pulling you into his arms in one swift motion, his other hand falling to the small of your back as you leaned against him. You were practically molded to him, your head rested against his shoulder as he guided you across the floor of your living room, closing your eyes and enjoying the sheer atmosphere that was Bucky Barnes.
“You know what else we’ll have to do for dancing each week?” You piped up, feeling his lips press softly against your forehead as he hummed in acknowledgment. “You need more shirts.” You felt his amusement rumble through his chest, and you leaned in closer to him as you felt him trace patterns onto your back.
“You mean I can’t wear the same one every week?”
“No. Some variety would do you good, James,” you teased. “I’ll have to do the same, I only have three Barnes-approved dresses to wear.”
“You are like my sister! I fell right into your trap, she used to trick me into shopping all the time. I can’t believe you would do this to me,” he explained, shaking his head in mock disapproval as you shook with laughter. “Is that what we’re doing tomorrow?”
“If you want to wait until after I’m out of work,” you begrudgingly reminded, and you could feel the shift. You felt him start to pull away, and you couldn’t deny your disappointment.
“Shit, I always forget,” he cursed under his breath, pulling back to be able to look at you. “It’s getting late, I’ll leave you be. You’ve got an early morning.” He’d pulled away from you before you could argue, never wanting to be a burden despite being the farthest thing from it.
Watching him make his way to the door you knew what was going to come out of his mouth any moment, it did every time. Slipping off to the side, you went to retrieve something from your purse before he could.
“You gonna come lock-” Bucky started, cutting himself off when he turned on his heel in the doorway to find you standing behind him with an outstretched hand, a key resting in your palm. He looked at the key in your hand for a few moments, as if wondering if he was actually seeing it before his piercing blue eyes found yours again.
“So you can lock the door on your way out,” you offered, tucking your lip between your teeth as you waited for him to respond. His warm fingers brushed against your skin as he gingerly took the key to your apartment in his hand, and you only got another glance before he was scooping you up into a tight hug, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.
“You brought it up three days ago, when did you even get this?” He asked softly, right beside your ear.
“I picked it up on my way home.” Your smile was still evident in your voice as he leaned back to look at you, returning to stand flat on your feet. There was an unmistakable sparkle in his eyes as he tried to find the right words to say.
“I… I appreciate it,” he said softly, just loud enough for you to hear. He cleared his throat to try and continue. “I- I know it’s just a key, but…”
“I know, Buck,” you finished for him, understanding the point he was trying to make, and trying to give him a chance to take it all in. A chance to understand in return how far he’d come, and how much trust you had in him despite his history.
Wanting to do anything but just sit there and watch, you stood back up on your toes and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek, hoping to help solidify the message you were trying to get through his stubborn defenses. You were pleasantly surprised to lean back and find his cheeks had turned a new shade of pink, and he was smiling bashfully as he turned his gaze away from you. It took more of an effort than you would have thought to keep your giddy amusement to a soft chuckle at his actions. He cleared his throat again and made to release his hold on you.
“Alright, I should get going,” he muttered as he made his way to your door, standing in the frame once again like he wasn’t quite done. “Thank you.” The warm feeling in your chest returned when you heard the raw emotion in his voice, and you simply nodded in response in fear of letting your emotions get the better of you. “Goodnight doll.”
“Goodnight James,” you smiled softly, before turning to turn off the speakers of your player and close up for the night, leaving Bucky in the doorway to use the key you had just given him.
He couldn’t help but watch you for a moment, acting as if he was already gone, and he couldn’t help but admire the way you moved through the space. His mind was still reeling as he tried to understand how someone so lovely, so wonderful had found a way into his life. He wondered what made you want to let him in the way you did, what had made you trust him so wholeheartedly as to hand him a key and turn your back, knowing that he’d take care of you. That he’d catch you.
As he turned the key in the lock, satisfied with the click as he stepped away from your door, he couldn’t help the feeling that was growing inside of him. It felt like his chest was going to explode in the most wonderful way, radiating through to his toes as it reached every inch of his body. It was a foreign feeling he didn’t think he’d ever get to experience again …
There was no doubt in his mind. Bucky was head over heels for you.
summary: a court-mandated therapy session brings you and bucky back together after months of not speaking, bringing up memories of the mission that fucked everything up in the first place.
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
genre: mission!AU/ tfatws!AU; reader and bucky worked on independent missions with steve rather than be in the avengers
word count: 14.2k
warnings: angst. do not read if under 18. canon-level violence, injuries, mentions of blood, assault (people get v beat up), swearing, some kinda gory stuff? (it’s all injury related, cuts, bruises and nosebleeds and such), nudity (ish), everyone survives the blip/snap (ngl i don’t know what kind of semi-AU this is but don’t question it)
masterlist
a/n: oof guys i worked so hard on this please don’t let it flop
prompt: don’t move, they hit you pretty hard.
“So, who wants to go first?”
Surprisingly, the dent on the table you’ve been staring at since you sat down has not moved.
Unsurprisingly, neither of you feel an overwhelming urge to start talking.
Therapy’s never really been your thing. You’re not even really supposed to be here; you did your mandatory sessions. That being said, you really don’t want to piss off the Counsel any more than you already have. Something about being a smartass in the stand and generally just causing them a lot of bother.
The woman across from you looks at you with an intentionally blank expression on her face; one developed over years of professional practice.
You sigh quietly.
“Right, well, I don’t even know why I’m here, so…”
She raises her eyebrows slightly, turning her gaze to the man to your right.
“You didn’t tell her?”
You hear him sigh beside you, feeling your own patience seeping out of you like an hourglass.
1st Place - A day off for the Avengers can be extremely exciting... or very, very boring. Or both. Avenger!Reader x Bucky Barnes. Fluff, grumpy Bucky, and some really bad puns. Not sorry.
I’m a Mess - Navigating a relationship with Bucky can be difficult. Angsty, fluffy, Elemental!Reader x Bucky Barnes.
Branded - An important missions with Bucky goes awry. You’re willing to do whatever it takes to keep important information safe. Will Bucky let you make that sacrifice? Mild themes of tortur3, angst, and some poor, unedited writing lol.
When Lightning Strikes - Stark tower is practically empty when a major thunderstorm hits. Thankfully, you have a friend next door to offer some comfort when your anxiety runs high. A fluffy little oneshot for those of you that are frightened by thunderstorms!
Bucky in Bed - What is better than some alone time with the Winter Soldier himself? Drabble, 18+, Minors DNI.
Mornings with Bucky Barnes - It’s the little things. Drabble, fluff, no real content warnings. Just sweetness.
Best Friend!Bucky Barnes - There’s no title on it yet, so for now, he’s just your best friend. Drabble, fluff, a smidge nsfw.
Kisses - A short drabble about the fluffy feelings Buck has for you and his favorite way to convey them. Fluffy, mildly nsfw.
Reasons Bucky Barnes Would Make a Good Boyfriend - A comprehensive drabble list of some of the greatest qualities that sweet Buck possesses. Short, sweet, fluffy, and mildly suggestive.
Late Nights with Bucky - Fluffiest drabble about bleary-eyed late nights with Buck.
Sebastian Stan:
A Slippery Situation - Working on set with Sebastian Stan presents some interesting problems. Modern problems require modern solutions, right? How else is he supposed to get that metal arm over all that muscle? SFX Artist!Reader x Winter Soldier Sebastian Stan. Fluff, Mild suggestive themes, overall just a cute oneshot.
Sebastian Stan in bed - Intimacy with Sebastian is.. interesting, to say the least. Drabble, NSFW, 18+, Minors DNI.
Dating Sebastian Stan - Dating Sebastian includes a lot of sweet little things, listed here. Drabble, fluff, suggestive.
Chris Pine:
Mornings with Chris Pine - The fluffiest thing you can fathom. Drabble, fluff, a tiny language warning.
Pietro Maximoff:
Mine, All Mine - Pietro was less than happy to see someone else flirting with you. You learn that lesson quickly and happilly. Smut, NSFW, Minors DNI. A little fluffy, some language, and drinking.
Peter Parker:
First Date with Peter - Fluffy little drabble about a first date with Peter Parker. Literal just fluff because you were just kids.
Who do you Stan? By the way your writing is amazing bless you ❤
I Stan quite a few groups! Marvel is my main fandom but I also Stan some music groups and artists. I absolutely love Mark Ruffalo. And awww thank you so much, love! xoxo
