30. “I’m not jealous! Its just..you’re mine!” for bucky? 💛
a/n: i’m sorry if this one sucks, i had trouble getting into it for some reason?
His hands have not left you all night. You’ve shmoozed and socialized and networked all night - because that’s your job - and Bucky has been a sometimes-quiet-sometimes-helpful-but-mostly possessive presence the whole night.
You agreed to dance because you knew it was the only way to both be alone with him and to get him to chill out.
“You know that Community Engagement is part of my job, right?” you ask him, maybe a little more sternly than you mean.
Because it’s not like everyone you’ve talked to all night didn’t automatically recognize Bucky Barnes. It’s not like he isn’t notorious for being overprotective. It’s not like you haven’t had similar conversations before.
He sighs. “I know, I know,” he mumbles as he leads the way through the dance. “I’m sorry I’m annoying.”
As he turns you, you shake your head. “You’re not annoying, Babe,” you tell him. “You’re...”
You know what you want to say, but can’t force it out. It might sound too accusatory, and that’s not the point.
The longer Bucky waits, though, the more anxious he gets. You can see it in the way he raises his eyebrows, and how his mouth falls into a straight and hard line. “I’m?” he asks eventually.
“Jealous,” you say, deciding the truth is the best way to go about this in any case. “And that’s cute - sort of, sometimes-” you go on, attempting to justify what you’ve said.
“I’m not jealous!” he defends, stopping his movements momentarily. And when you raise your brows back at him, he shakes his head and insists, “I’m not!”
You look around as people continue to dance around you. Bucky notices, too, and he sighs again. Then he pulls you a little closer and continues the dance, this time slower, even though he definitely doesn’t keep up with the people around the two of you now.
“Sorry,” he mutters again. “I’m not jealous. It’s just that...that you’re mine.” He puts his chin on your shoulder and you do the same, mostly so you can hear him better. “And I don’t always like to share.”
You laugh at him and say, “I know, you’re a big baby about it.”
“I am not!” he whines, but his arms tighten around you, and he laughs with you over the music.
You know that, maybe he is a baby about sharing, but he’s your baby. And at least he takes it in stride.
hi becca!! writing prompt - “Did you just hiss at me?” with good ol’ buckaroo!! please & thanks. much love!!
much love right back atcha!! this is a little silly but I hope you enjoy xoxo
Bucky wormed the window open and squeezed inside, careful to avoid hitting his damp boots on the shelf just below. Holding his breath, he slid the window shut. The shade fell back into place, and Bucky finally let himself relax.
Finally.
Loud purring broke the silence in Natasha’s apartment. A smile spread on Bucky’s face as a blond tabby cat sauntered into the living room. He ducked down and tugged off his gloves, cradling the cat’s face in his metal hand as the other scratched behind its ears.
“Hey koshka,” he said. “Where’s Nat?”
Bucky stood up and stretched before heading over to Natasha’s calendar on the wall. It was, typically, written in cursive Russian, unreadable to nearly all Americans, but Bucky had seen enough that he had no trouble realizing that Nat was out of town until tomorrow.
Well, that sucked.
He’d been driven out of the apartment he shared with Steve thanks to the, ahem, sounds coming out of Steve’s room. Back in the day, he never thought twice about bringing someone home. But now? Now both he and Steve had hearing keyed up to eleven. And there were some thing he just did not need to hear.
So, to Nat’s. She didn’t mind letting him crash—if nothing else, she found it hilarious that he was run out of his own damn apartment by the sounds of sex.
Well, hopefully she wouldn’t mind he’d broken into her empty apartment. He shucked off his boots and curled up in her armchair. The cat dug its claws into his shins at once.
“No,” Bucky said sternly. He grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck and held it still in his lap. He met its eyes. “No scratching.”
The second he let go, the cat jumped down and rubbed against the doorpost to the kitchen. Bucky snorted, but didn’t move. Dinnertime, huh? Well, the cat hadn’t died yet. Nat probably had one of those automatic feeders set up. Nothing for him to do except wait.
But five minutes passed, and the cat was still yowling. So Bucky forced himself up, rooted around in Nat’s kitchen until he found the cat food, and served the beast a generous scoop. He filled its water bowl too, saint that he was, and took the opportunity to scratch the cat as it ate.
Then he heard a key in the lock.
Bucky tensed and stood slowly. Natasha’s calendar didn’t lie. She hadn’t answered his text, which generally meant she was in the field.
So who the hell was at the door?
Bucky dashed into the bedroom and folded himself into Natasha’s stuffed closet. He waited, and listened.
The front door opened. Someone was humming; the sound drifted further away. Going into the kitchen?
The cat hissed.
You blinked down at Simba, startled. “Did you just hiss at me?”
But Simba only continued eating. Eating? What the hell!
“Who fed you?” you asked. You looked around the kitchen, but there was no evidence of an intruder. The living room, however…
There was a pair of large black combat boots among Nat’s smaller shoes. They certainly hadn’t been there before.
“Hello?” you called, suddenly nervous. You ducked back into the kitchen and contemplated the magnetized knife strip on the wall. What would Natasha say if she found out an intruder had gotten in? What would she say if you stabbed them?
What kind of intruder took off their shoes?
Your phone buzzed in your back pocket, and you flinched and pulled it out. A text from Natasha.
Natasha: One of my friends is crashing at my place. He’s shy.Natasha; Go easy on him 😏You: thanks for the warning, i was about to have a heart attack hahaYou: will do XD
Well, that was a relief. You put your phone away with a grin and leaned in the kitchen doorway with your arms crossed.
“Thank you for feeding the cat,” you said loudly, “Nat just texted—sorry to bother you. I cat-sit for her. Did you give him wet food too?”
You waited. The bedroom door swung open, and a man big enough for the boots shuffled out. He scratched the back of his neck, mussing his shoulder-length dark hair in the process. You swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.
“Just dry food,” he said.
“Um. Okay.” You spun and hurried back into the kitchen. At the sound of the can opening, Simba meowed and wound his way between your legs. You grinned down at him, trying to ignore the heat in your face as the drop-dead gorgeous stranger hovered in the doorway. The cat headed over his way and he dropped into a crouch, his stretchy black jeans straining against his thighs.
“Hey koshka,” he murmured. His soft smile lit his face up. It was all you could do to tear your eyes away.
Where did Natasha find these people?
“Here you go, Simba,” you said, settling the bowl of wet food down for him.
The man snorted. “What did you just call it?”
You stared up at him with raised eyebrows as you arranged the three bowls in a neat row. “His name?”
“It doesn’t have a name,” he said.
“Natasha said that was his name! Besides, you called him something.”
“Yeah, ‘cat’ in Russian.” He licked his lips to contain his smirk.
You stood up at last, shaking your head. “You people are crazy. Of course, I’m not one to really talk. I called all my stuffed animals Bear. Or Cat.” You smiled sheepishly.
“Well, then you’re in good company.” He grinned outright this time and stuck out his hand. “I’m Bucky. What’s your name?”
hiya! for the song lyric drabble? "wanna love you in slow motion, why can't i?" (slow motion by karina pasian)
Summary: He wants to love you, you won’t let him (Implied!Reader/Bucky Barnes).
“If you keep staring at her,” Sam stays from besides him as Bucky watches her smile and talk to some other agents, “Your eyes are gonna fall up.”
“She hasn’t talked to me in a month,” Bucky states miserably thinking about the last time he had seen her, felt her sleeping next to time – her fading warmth bringing back the nightmare he fought so hard against, “Haven’t seen her longer than that.”
Since that disastrous confession in front of all the Avengers after you had almost die due to the fight you wouldn’t back down from with all those HYDRA agents back in Vienna. He just remembered you running out the room without another word, you transferred soon afterwards and only exchanged communication with Nat. He knew it wasn’t him –Bucky knew the feeling was mutual, had seen it and felt it the whole time you had been working together– that you were afraid about the whole thing.
“Well, she’s coming this way,” Sam declares while patting him on the shoulder for good luck before leaving. You look beautiful in your evening gown and it takes his breathe away from a moment, as you stand there. He waits.
“Would you dance with me, Barnes,” is all you have to say, as he grabs you and leads you to the dance floor. The music is slow and there a few people due to how late it has gotten. One hand on your waist and another on your shoulder, as he starts of slow – waiting for you as patiently as he can.
It’s takes you two songs to asks that dreaded question –did he mean it?– as it takes him the end to say he did. Another one for you to ask what he wanted from you.
“I just wanna be with you. At your pace, anything you want, sweetheart,” he confesses as you keep looking at him, trying to see if he is lying, “I just wanna love you in slow motion, why can’t I?”
“I–”
“I know you have your demons, and I do too,” he gets to the heart of the matter straight away, as you look away for a second, “But, we do so well together. Don’t ya think so?”
“You’re an idiot, Bucky Barnes,” you give him a sordid smile as he dips you.
“An idiot in love,”he gives you a hopeful smile and love struck eyes, as if trying to convey everything he felt for you, “Your idiot, if ya give me the chance.”
“When and where?”
“You tell me, doll.”
“Friday, Central Park at 6pm” his heart flutter with hope and excitement, as you touch his cheek lightly. Your noses rubbing affectionately as a result, as you add in softly, “If you can handle me.”
since you recently reblogged that scene from the labyrinth.. do you just think about that one step he takes right in front of her? his hands leave his pockets to place them on her knees instead? and his stance widens just a little bit? the gif ends there, which is a shame. but damn does it make a girl wonder you know? (hint: you know) ✨
hi becca!! happy friday <3 you started school this monday didn't you? how was your first week? i hope it wasn't too crazy. any plans this weekend? :D hope you're staying warm wherever you're at!
happy friday kat!!! you have an amazing memory, school did start this week XD the good news is that I SURVIVED, despite the fact that in addition to classes (which i can handle), i also had to deal with
a consultation with a divorce mediator, where i had to see and listen to my husband (over the computer, but still)
a longer commute that does not include a mile walk, ergo i’m stressing about the loss of some of my routine exercise as well as missing the bus
i exchanged phone numbers with a classmate for what i thought was school purposes but instead i got sent an alarming number of texts including a shirtless pic that i DID NOT ASK FOR AND DID NOT WANT—and this guy is in two of my classes (fortunately it ended out okay; i told him he was making me uncomfortable and to stop texting me, he did not bother me in class afterwards and was very polite when we were randomly put in a group together (!!!) )
did i mention i’m getting DIVORCED
last night i woke up WIDE AWAKE at 4am because i dreamt about running into the guy i didn’t-exactly-date before my husband and it was just... blech
Plans this weekend? Cook a quiche, have brunch with a cousin on Sunday, REST, do a ton of reading (I’m a history major, reading is my life now), finish the two stories I’m working on, maybe start a book review if I can finish the 580-page book I’m almost done with for my independent study, and study for my quiz on Africa’s natural geography
OH IT'S SO GOOD TO SEE YOU'RE OK! i'm sorry that crazy shit happened with the blog, i was freaking tf out cuz i thought something happened to you that i missed. ugh tumblr. but at least you're here!!!
IT’S SO GOOD TO BE BACK!! I’m so happy to receive all of this loving support. my account was gone 4 hours too long 😩 but I’m starting from scratch and rebuilding what I had! starting with getting all of my fics back up!!! thank you so much you precious bean 💕💕💕
HI *hugs* i’ve missed you & i hope you’re doing well 💕
KAT!!!! KAAAT!!! *jumps up and down, screeching* HIIIII!!!!!! I MISSED YOU TOOOO <3 <3 <3 <3 Yay!!!!!
I’m doing okay!!!! I’m busy with school and not one but THREE other obligations, plus normal day-to-day life, plus being addicted to this hellish site, plus wanting to write all the time but not actually writing anything... You know, the usual XD How are you????
happy friday becca!! <3 writing prompt from "the way you said i love you" list, #30 - "too quick, mumbled into your scarf".. picked because i'm currently freezing LOL
thank you dear kat!!!! hope you enjoy, despite the angstiness xoxo
They’re leaving.
You’re huddled into your coat, watching from a safe distance as a helicopter hovers over the clearing a half-mile from your tiny town. The wind is stiff, freezing; the dusty snow blowing through the air sparkles like diamond dust.
It could be beautiful, at another time.
Right now, you’re consumed by the aching in your chest. Twenty hours in and out, and the heroes had liberated the town. The terrorists had been taken down, their cache and holding cells emptied. You’d been freed; your parents had cried with joy and relief.
You were too overwhelmed to cry. You still are.
And now they’re leaving.
He’s leaving.
Was it a cliché, to have fallen so hard so fast? It must be. But after so many days locked away, who could blame you for latching onto the man with the beautiful blue eyes and the soft voice? A face like marble and a smile so warm it thawed your heart…
The helicopter finally lands. You slip out from under your mother’s arm and step closer, squinting; the snow is bright though the sun is weak. The heroes are climbing aboard. You can hear their muffled shouting over the whir of the blades, the engine.
The Winter Soldier pauses with one foot in the helicopter and one foot on the ground. He twists around and his eyes latch onto yours. You lift your head so he can see when you force a grin. His answering smile is as gentle as his hands had been. Then he heaves himself up into the copter.
“I love you,” you mumble into your scarf.
His head whirls around to look at you again, his eyes wide even at this distance and his lips parted. The Black Widow pulls him further into the helicopter with a scolding expression as they lift off the ground.
You wince as the wind kicks up again. Tears blur your eyes, but you watch as the helicopter flies away, taking your heart with it.
