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Ship: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Rating: SFW
Wordcount: 584
Warnings: nothing, just you and Bucky attempting a new hobby and it goes about as well as expected.
“You show me yours,” you challenged.
“I asked to see yours first,” he grunted, crossing his arms. Somehow, he’d gotten paint on his nose. You didn’t know when or how, but it was… really adorable. “I’m tryin’ to be supportive. Don’t you wanna show me?”
You rolled your eyes, and flipped around your canvas.
Bucky’s face went… completely blank, all of his expression vanishing at once. It was nothing like his usual grumpy face, or his, 'I'm actually comfortable admitting I'm happy' face, and your brows furrowed the slightest bit. This… wasn’t the reaction you’d been expecting.
Then you saw his chest hitch as he breathed.
He was trying not to laugh.
“You asshole!”
“I think,” he said, with only the tiniest tremor around the edges of his voice, “that it’s a beautiful… seagull muppet.”
Shit, maybe your osprey did look a bit like a seagull. And a muppet. The eyes were kind of… googly.
"How do you even know about muppets?!"
"Sam said muppets were culture." He blinked, the slightest crinkles appearing at the corner of his eyes. "Which is how I recognize that your bird… is a muppet."
“This is not my medium,” you sniffed, “But I’ll have you know, this osprey—” Bucky shivered again in a way that looked suspiciously like someone forcing back laughter, “may or may not have been raised by… seagull muppets, and he wanted to look like his family when he sat for his painting. I’ll be throwing this away, don’t worry.”
He finally cracked just a little, a quiet chortle as he reached over and snatched the painting before you could stop him. “Oh no, this shit’s going on the wall, doll. My girl made the most beautiful fucking seagull muppet I’ve ever seen.”
You grabbed for it but he held it up above your head, at least until you reached for his canvas. He snatched that, too, holding both above his head and out of your reach. “Mine’s no good, it’s got, uh… paint on it. I spilled paint on it.”
“That’s what a painting is, Bucky.”
“I ruined it,” he said sternly, growling when you swept the paintbrushes and easels aside before bouncing up onto the table. The only thing stronger than Bucky’s desire to keep shit like this out of your hands was his desire to protect you, and you weren’t above using that to your advantage. “Doll, get off the table, before you—”
You leapt at him.
He dropped your painting without hesitation, using his metal arm to scoop you out of the air. Before he could blink, you’d scrambled up his body like a squirrel and snatched his canvas, turning it to face you.
You stared for a long moment, as he slowly lowered you back onto your feet.
“It was supposed to be you,” he muttered. “Was hopin’ it’d be nicer lookin’ than that. And not like a—”
“Another muppet,” you choked out, starting to wheeze so hard in laughter tears came to your eyes. “This is muppet me. Bucky, we painted muppets. And if we’re hanging my seagull muppet, I want this muppet on the wall, too. I swear to god.”
“You really like it that much?”
You held the canvas up to your face and he rolled his eyes, but you could see the smirk he was trying to hide. “I think this is the most accurate approximation of me as a muppet that I’ve ever seen. Now I just need to paint a muppet you.”
“Wait, what?”
-x-
Tagging 🐺Team White Wolf🐺 (to be added to the tag list, click here):
Why am I like this. Why am I wearing over-the-knee boots and jean shorts in the fucking rain. I'm not even doing anything besides seeing my therapist and maybe getting coffee after. Why do I have to be dramatic, gay, and vaguely grunge-y whenever I do anything.
