A misunderstanding.
Repost
"Dear My Darling Reader."
A Valentine's Day Fic Exchange.
Fic to my dear @elliestwoleftfingerss
All my stories are R18. I write smut, and I may touch sensitive topics or topics that are not intended to be read by minors.
YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN CONTENT CONSUMPTIONS.
Masterlist | DMDR Event Masterlist
Prompt: "Wait, it's Valentine's Day today?!"
Pairing: Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!F!Reader
Warning/Tags: Misunderstanding, miscommunication, reader and bucky are just silly and dumb, fluff and just a tiny tiny bit of angst.
Word Count: ~4.1k
Summary: From the first time Bucky sees you he realize you're something different, but maybe eavesdropping is not his best ally at the moment. Now he has to remind himself not everyone is an enemy.
Author's Note: This is my fic on the event "Dear My Darling Reader" which was hosted by @salty-tang. A beautiful experience and a really beautiful way to meet new people!
If this is the first time you've read me, I'd love for you to read this post.
Another Fic For Ellie!
Working in The Stark Tower was something exciting, to say the least. One day you would see Captain America walking around, and the very next minute you could see a S.H.I.E.L.D team walking with something as dangerous as The Tesseract—so you were used to not having a normal day.
Nonetheless, Bucky Barnes, HYDRA’s former assassin appearing on the compound was something new—something unexpected. You knew the stories behind him and Howard’s death, you knew from firsthand how that had ended, and how much Tony struggled to trust people after going through the whole ordeal.
“How did that happen?” You asked Hill, who was walking with a tablet in her hand.
“Well—at the end Tony understood none of that was Barnes’ decision.”
“Is he going to live here?”
“I think Tony wants to have an eye on him—It’s better for everyone.”
Seeing him there felt different. A kind of redemption for him, something you never thought of seeing with your own eyes.
Weeks passed and you started to see how he interacted with his surroundings—he was careful, trying to not attract attention to himself, always alone in the kitchen, training at late hours, walking around when he thought no one was watching over him.
However, you were paying attention. You were always looking in his direction—not in a predatory way, but curiosity got hold of you.
And finally, you got the courage enough to sit in front of him, you didn’t make a fuss out of it, he was in the kitchen bar eating cereal very early in the morning—Tony was not in town so you had plenty of free time ‘till he got back.
Bucky sat still for a second, he wanted to leave, except with all the activities the doctor had been putting him through this was the only free time he had for himself. He sighed and didn’t even look up at you.
He really expected this was a one–time situation. He was not used to sharing his time, nor his space with anyone else—maybe Steve, sometimes Sam or Nat, and that was it. He didn’t want more people involved in whatever was going on with him.
But by the third time you sat in front of him, he decided he would have to deal with it, he just accepted your presence there, and you didn’t push further. You just sat there, ate, waited if you finished before him, and then left when he stood up. Not more, not less. You knew he was dealing with a lot of things, and you didn’t want to make him feel pressured.
Until one day, you arrived earlier than him, but you had a very busy day waiting for you, so you just went and left a chocolate bar you had bought earlier for him. You left it on his usual spot with a note. ‘Bucky Barnes.’
He was not expecting to not see you there, something inside of him felt half relieved, half confused—and he felt even more confused when he saw a chocolate bar with his name on it. He stared at it as if it were a puzzle.
He left it on his side while he ate, he didn’t circle around it too much, maybe you were being nice because you were asked to do it. Maybe you were a kind of handler or guard Tony had set for him. Not his worst idea, to be fair.
While he was eating, Steve arrived and sat in front of him. At first he didn’t notice the chocolate sitting there—but when he saw it an eyebrow raised.
“Didn’t know you ate chocolate.” Bucky sighed, “Oh! It was Tony’s assistant?”
“How—how do you know about her?”
“Buck, the whole Tower has seen how you two eat breakfast together daily.”
“I don’t eat breakfast with her, she sits here and I’m here too.”
“Fine, but you could have a nice gesture back and give her something.”
“I’m not doing that.”
You continued your routine with him—or by his side. You never said anything at the beginning, but with the weeks you started to give him a casual ‘Good Morning’, and you would even start to say goodbye when you both were heading out.
The first time you greeted him he just mumbled something through his teeth, you accepted it as a greeting back. And the following days his mumbling became a murmur, to a low “morning”.
You weren’t even expecting more than that—you were accepting what was given.
But, one morning, he was not there. You could see his bowl cleaned and drying on the sink. You didn’t want to admit it fully, but his company made your mornings somehow better. When you sat on the stool, a chocolate bar sat in front of you. Your name written on a sticky note.
You smiled wide, as wide as your cheeks let you do it.
He didn’t even realize when he did it. He was on the corner bodega when he bought a family pack chocolate bag, he saw you eating one of those just a day or two earlier. And then, he asked one of the doctors for a bunch of sticky notes and a pen.
And as if the planets had aligned to act on it, the very next day Steve called him on a mission, something fast, nothing that would last more than a day, but something that would make him not have breakfast with you.
After eating breakfast, and when Steve was not in the kitchen, he left the chocolate with the sticky note on the table. He felt like a child—like a teenager. God’s sake. He was a hundred year old man leaving chocolates to a woman he hadn’t even spoken more than fifty words to.
By that moment, that became a routine, something yours, every time one of you wasn’t able to be at breakfast, you would leave a chocolate bar, sometimes with your names written on there, sometimes just the bar, but even with that interaction, words were not spoken—he didn’t dare to say anything, and you were too afraid to ruin the moment.
One late night you were working with Hill with a protocol, nothing scandalous. She was yapping about a date she was having next week.
“So, you don’t have anything going on?” You shook your head, your eyes still focused on the tablet in front of you.
“I’m pretty busy with this shit here.” You mumbled while pointing to the artefact.
“Oh, c’mon!”
“What? It’s a pretty tough thing—I have to spend all my morning sat there working with it, I need all my focus on it…”
For your misfortune—Bucky was just about to come into the lab when he heard you saying that. He really thought you were talking about him. And deep down he knew. You couldn’t be such a nice person to him just because—you were just an assigned handler.
He stepped back and went directly to the compound’s gym. Steve was there training. Buckys’ chest heaved with anger, he could not believe he really thought you could just be nice to him.
“Did you know?” He asked stumping inside.
“‘Bout what?” Steve stopped the punching bag.
“You know about what! She’s not only Tony’s assistant, right? She’s my fucking handler!”
Steve’s eyes were wide open, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of the water.
“Look—Tony did try to set a guard for you, but I stopped him, and you can bet a tiny small girl is not your handler! What are you on?”
“So, why is she saying she has to deal with a tough task all morning?” Bucky chuckled almost in a cynical way.
“Well—because she’s a genius, she’s working with a protocol for S.H.I.E.L.D.” Steve sighed, “I know you have trust issues, and I know it is a long road, but can you accept she’s just being nice to you?”
“Fuck off.” Bucky said, leaving the gym, Steve’s brows furrowed.
He was really trying to help his friends, but he also understood how deep the cut was and how difficult it was going to be to make him trust again.
After that day he became colder—he never again answered your greetings, even when you tried harder, something felt as if you had done something wrong, even when you left chocolates there if you weren’t going to eat—the chocolate remained untouched by evening.
“I know we are not exactly even acquaintances, but—did I do something wrong?” You finally asked one day.
He didn’t even look at your way. You sighed and stood up, even you knew better than to push someone who clearly didn’t want you there. Since that stunt, you stopped eating with him, you just went, took anything you needed from the kitchen and walked away. Every time Bucky just saw you from behind his bowl and said nothing.
Right there, he realized how full of shit he was. He felt guilty, for the first time someone who owed him nothing was kind to him, and he decided to push her away for no reason.
But it was late, and it was better that way, he had nothing to offer her.
One late evening, Bucky and Steve were walking into the tower, you were walking in their direction, really trying to not make eye contact with Bucky.
“Evening,” you said, smiling at Steve.
“Ma’am.” He smiled back and you walked away, he looked at Bucky with an eyebrow raised, “why did she not acknowledge you?”
Bucky shrugged his shoulders.
“Bucky…”
The blonde stopped his tracks, Bucky sighed knowing he had no other choice but to say the truth.
“I might have ignored her after that stunt at the gym, and she got fed up and stopped talking to me.”
Steve pinched the bridge of his nose exasperated.
“You can’t be this idiot.” He mumbled.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“You have to make up for it, you know it, right?”
“I… How am I supposed to do that?”
“Figure it out.” Steve said before walking away. Bucky palmed his face.
So, there he was—in front of a shelf with a ton of things, cups, little drawings on small canvas, stuffed bears. Nothing seemed like something Bucky would carry around.
Steve had convinced him to buy you something for Valentine’s Day. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had celebrated it—let alone bought something like that in this century.
He slid his fingers through his long hair—the green jacket hugged his biceps, at that moment he felt it was even tighter. He roamed through the whole store ‘till a teen girl approached him.
“Mister, do you need some help?” He sighed, “Don’t worry! We are going to find something lovely for your wife.”
“She’s—not… She’s a coworker.” The teenager knitted her eyebrows.
“Well, we don’t judge here. What does she like?”
And he remembered, he saw you wearing a necklace with a heart more than once in the middle—one day you stopped using it. You had the habit of playing with it and you seemed to miss it from time to time when your hand slid to your chest and didn't find it.
The girl who seemed to have a life mission helped Bucky find the perfect necklace—her words. She put it on a velvety bag and gave it to him.
He spent the days dwelling on the idea of giving you the necklace—you hadn’t even talked to each other in a week or so, he couldn’t do the same as you did with the chocolate bar, he didn’t feel confident enough to do it. What was he going to do? Were you going to see it as what it was? Just a gift or something else? Every question made him backtrack.
He just left it on his nightstand, he was not even sure if you were going to be there on St. Valentine’s. You probably had a whole date—or you were probably spending your night with someone. Now he felt like an idiot, he didn’t even know if you were taken, and he was not a man to take something that was not his. Not that he wanted to try something with you, but he was sure you were someone that was worth keeping close.
You were nice without expecting anything, you felt warm in every room you were in, everyone in the compound had only good things to say about you. And he was the only idiot who didn’t have a good relationship with you, just because he couldn’t accept that you were just a good person just because. And he saw it, he could see how you treated everyone with kindness and respect, but every time your paths crossed—he could see it, he saw how you restrained yourself from saying something, to even look at his way, and he hated himself for that.
How did he manage to make such sunshine angry at him?
February arrived, and with it, Bucky’s guts to start making amends with you. It started slowly. First, he started to acknowledge you were in the kitchen, looking your way, not talking—he knew you deserved time. Now he was the one making the moves, slowly, at your pace, respecting how much you wanted to do or to approach him.
Fucking deep blue eyes. They pierced you enough to try to look at him. But you were hurt, you were nothing but nice to him and suddenly he gives you the cold shoulder? Not something you were going to let it slide.
But you caved in, and by Valentine’s week you were on speaking terms again—you both sat together to have breakfast. Not much talk, just keeping each other’s company. Something he started to be fond of.
Valentine’s Day arrived, and in the morning, he didn’t see you there—but for the first time, a chocolate bar waited for him. No sticky notes, no name. Just a bar.
He thought it was weird to not have your characteristic sticky notes there, but he was thankful you started your old routine together.
He didn’t see you the rest of the day. Not in the hallways, not in the labs, not eating with Hill as you usually did. And there, his suspicions grew bigger. You may be on a romantic daytrip with a man—-a normal man. Not a bionic centenarian with the worst PTSD seen by man.
Now the necklace on his pocket weighed more, he felt idiotic thinking he could have something normal.
At nine he walked to the kitchen, the hallways were silent, he could hear his footsteps echoing through them, but a dim light on the lab caught his attention. He peeped through the door, and you were there. Sitting in front of a tablet and thousands of papers.
He couldn’t believe his eyes. What were you doing there? He cleared his throat before speaking.
“Hi, there.” He said almost in a whisper.
You jumped on your spot with the sudden voice. “Oh god. Don’t ever do that again!” You chuckled.
“Sorry, thought you heard me.”
“No, I was too focused on this.” You raised the tablet in your hand, “I need to finish it before the end of February.”
He raised an eyebrow, “I get that—but what are you doing here? I thought you were going to be on a date or something.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, “why would I—be on a date?”
“St. Valentine’s Day?” Your mouth fell open.
"Wait, it's Valentine's Day today?! Oh! That’s why Hill told me to get a date. Such an idiot.” You palmed your face, “I’ve been here all day without taking even a break.”
“Did you forget it was Valentine’s Day?”
“Yeah. Not my year—or life… romantically speaking.”
“The prize of being Tony’s assistant?”
“More like the prize of not being attractive?” His jaw clenched. How could you think that way?
“It’s fine, I’m used to not having dates on Valentine’s, Bucky. That’s why I forgot about it.
He wanted to tell you a lot of things, how precious you were, how kind and warm you were— but he just nodded and stepped back, disappearing from your sight. He walked directly to Steve’s room.
“Everything’s fine?” He asked when he saw the distraught look Bucky had.
“She didn’t even know today was Valentine’s…”
Steve chuckled. If there was something of the old Bucky remaining on this new man standing in front of him, this was a hint. Bucky was ever a gentleman back in time, and something was showing up right now in the anger his eyes reflected.
Next morning you arrived and no sight of Bucky—nor a chocolate bar in the kitchen.
Maybe the self–deprecating joke was too soon?
You couldn’t stop thinking about how stupid you must’ve sounded. You really felt second–hand embarrassment. All day was the same, if you weren’t thinking about Bucky, you were thinking about how pathetic you sounded.
When the dark of night covered the sky, you decided to leave to your room—something inside you wanted to make you dig a hole below your bed and never leave.
When you were walking to your room, you saw how Bucky was standing up in the middle of the living room—a white buttoned shirt hugging his god–given body. He seemed nervous, something strange to see on him.
“Uh—I…Can…”
Was he stuttering? He? The Winter Soldier?
“Can you come with me?” He finally had the guts to finish the sentence, you tilted your head to the side but nodded.
You both went up in the elevator in silence, and something felt heavier in the air. When the door opened on the roof, there was a table decorated with a white tablecloth and a couple of red roses in the middle.
“You—are attractive. And if any man has told you otherwise in the past—they are imbeciles and blind.”
A tear started to well up on your eye. No one had ever done something like this for you, and a man who was this haunted did it just because of a self–deprecating joke you made? You were speechless, but he walked with you to the table, he helped you take a seat and in front of you there was a chocolate bar with a velvety bag.
“I bought it for you—hope it’s enough to say sorry for the way I treated you. Not—not that I want to buy your forgiveness, but—God’s sake, can you just open it?”
You chuckled, seeing him this flustered was—glorious. When you opened the bag, a necklace with a heart in the middle was there. You couldn’t believe he noticed everything.
Your favorite chocolates, your lost necklace. He was really paying attention to you.
“I don’t know what to say, Bucky—I don’t have anything for you.”
“I didn’t ask for anything—you’ve been so kind to me. You are the first person outside of the people who knew me through Steve, who didn’t think the worst of me. You have shown me that I can be kind, and that I should trust maybe a bit more.”
You chuckled.
“So then why did you treat me that way?”
He sighed, “I thought you were sent by Tony, that you were a kind of guard or handler.”
Your eyes were open in surprise.
“Bucky—have you seen me? There’s no way I could handle anything,” he chuckled, “and beside, Tony? Tony has been bullying me since the first day I sat with you.”
“I know, I’m an idiot.”
“I forgive you—I forgave you. That’s what people do.”
The word ‘people’ came out of your lips as if it wanted to be something different.
He looked at you, and for the first time he was sure he could have something beautiful on his arm, something strong enough to not be broken but soft enough to make him feel different.
The night was beautiful. With Nat’s help he cooked a lasagna and Tony gave him an expensive whine.
The conversation between you flowed as if you hadn’t been in dead silence for the past months, and it felt well, like the whole thing you had was supposed to be like that. Like you both didn’t need many words before.
“And where did your last necklace go?” He asked, as he saw how from time to time you caressed where the old necklace hung before.
“It got lost—I don’t even know where. I was so sad, it was a cheap thing, but I bought it years ago and it was always with me.”
“Well, you don’t have to wear the one I bought you just because I did it. I just thought…”
“Are you crazy? I’m not going to stop wearing it like ever.”
Mornings were easier now, he now prepared two bowls of whatever he did, one for you and one for him. Late nights in the lab? He was there waiting for you, he even started to walk you to your car every time you left the compound. If you had to stay there, you both spent most of the night in the gardens just talking.
You learned a lot about him, and he always left the graphic details; not because he didn’t trust you at this point—but because he didn’t want you to pity him.
Even when you never did, it didn't matter what he told you, or what he slipped. You never pitied him. Every time he told you a censored story of his past, you just nodded, let him finish, and made a remark—sometimes something about him being amazing at story telling, sometimes about a specific part of the story.
But never about him. Somehow, you knew he didn’t want nor needed that, and you always paid attention to it.
It was not like you were dancing around him, or walking on eggshells, more like—you wanted him to feel comfortable with you, even if it took time.
One night, you were sitting in the garden, he was sitting on his butt looking at the sky, while you were crossing your legs next to him. Nights like that became a part of your routine, talking nonsense, walking around the place, silence that helped you both to decompress.
“Why were you so nice to me?” He finally asked, you look at him, almost weirded out.
“Well, why wouldn’t I? You did nothing wrong—not to me, like ever.”
“So, you’re just nice around everyone?”
“Is that not like we are supposed to be?”
Bucky shrugged.
“You know you’re too good for your own sake?”
“I’ve been told before.”
There was a pause before you looked back at him.
“Bucky, I like you…”
He swallowed.
“This is not a proposal at all. I just want to be honest—I think someone like you appreciates honesty.”
“I do. I appreciate it.” He looked at you, he moved his body to be just slightly closer to you, “And I like you too, but…”
Bucky paused before finishing the sentence.
“I’m not sure I can start something healthy.”
“I’m not asking for anything—if you want to take the things slowly, we can take them like that.”
“And if it takes a lot?”
“Then a lot will be.” You answered, he sighed, “Bucky, can you stop over thinking this? Just… let yourself feel.”
“And what if I hurt you?”
“You wouldn’t be the first nor the last.”
Your smile made him weak, and the way you were handing your heart to him made him realize he liked you more than what he thought. He sat on his knees, facing you, his hand cupping your cheek slowly, chest heaving.
“Tell me if you are not comfortable.” You shook your head.
“Don’t stop, please.”
Your hands found their way to his neck, pulling him just inches closer before your lips touched.
“And it just took three months after Valentine’s.” Tony chuckled, walking in your direction.
“Tony…” You said before trying to stand up.
“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just taking a walk, but it’s nice to see two lovebirds enjoying their night.”
Bucky sighed.
“C’mon, Barnes. You can take her to real dates now.”
Tony joked before leaving the garden.
“I’m sorry.” Bucky looked at you.
“I know Tony, that’s fine.”
“No… I mean, yes. But, he’s right—I should have asked you on a proper date sooner.”
“Slow pace, Bucky. Slow pace.”
You took his hand and tangled your fingers with his, before you could do anything, he leaned on you and kissed you.
It was slow, but fiercely, something that hadn’t been said was confessed there, and everything felt complete at that moment.
“That’s not slow.”
“No, but it was good.”
