"Well, I can always count on you for a warm welcome."
#phm#ryland grace#rocky the eridian#project hail mary spoilers





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"Well, I can always count on you for a warm welcome."
:)))
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⌠Pairing: husband!bucky barnes x wife!reader ⌠Genre: fluff, domestic married life, comedy, soft angst turned mush ⌠Summary: newlyweds you and Bucky get into your first dumb fight, and you decide to ignore him. He doesnât take it well.
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You werenât even sure what started it. Something small, something stupid. Youâd been married less than six months, and it wasnât even a fight so much as a flare of stubbornness that lit up between the two of you.
âYou never listen,â youâd muttered, folding your arms after he rolled his eyes about how you loaded the dishwasher.
âBecause you do it the wrong way,â heâd said with this infuriating shrug, like it was fact, not opinion.
And that was that. You stopped talking to him.
Bucky noticed immediately. At first, he thought you were joking. When you turned your head in silence as he leaned down to kiss your cheek, he blinked, confused.
âUh⌠doll?â
Nothing.
âSweetheart, câmon, what is this?â
Still nothing.
It wasnât until you walked right past him without a glance, grabbing your phone and curling up on the couch like he wasnât even in the room, that realization dawned.
âOh, youâve got to be kiddinâ me,â he muttered under his breath. âSheâs givinâ me the silent treatment.â
The Winter Soldier, feared assassin, man whoâd survived wars and Hydraâs torture chambers, could take a bullet without blinking but his wife not talking to him? That, apparently, was his breaking point.
The first hour, he hovered âYouâre really not gonna talk to me?â he asked, leaning over the couch. âOver a dishwasher?â
Nothing.
âDoll, I fought Nazis. I fought aliens. You think Iâm afraid of a little silence? Hah.â
The way he checked your face every thirty seconds gave him away.
The second hour, he started bribing you âHey, uh, I ordered Thai food. Extra spring rolls. For you.â
You nodded thanks to the delivery guy, not to Bucky.
He narrowed his eyes. âOkay. Thatâs how weâre playinâ this.â
The third hour, he upped the dramatics.
You found him in the kitchen, standing with a bouquet of sunflowers heâd somehow gotten delivered. He held them like a man making a last plea.
âLook, I panicked,â he admitted, pushing the flowers toward you. âThey didnât have roses, and I thought maybe sunflowers are brighter, and you love bright things, and I love you, soââ
You took the flowers, set them in water, and walked away. Without a word.
âJesus Christ,â he groaned, dragging a hand down his face.
By dinner, he was a wreck.
You were scrolling your phone at the table, eating calmly. He hadnât touched his plate. He just sat there, chin in his hand, staring at you like a kicked puppy.
âSweetheart,â he said softly, like the word itself might save him. âPlease. Just yell at me or somethinâ. Donât just⌠not talk. I canâtââ He broke off, sighing. âI canât stand it.â
You raised an eyebrow but stayed silent.
That night, when you went to bed, you half expected him to sulk on the couch. But when you slid under the covers, you felt the mattress dip, then a heavy arm wrap around your waist.
âNot lettinâ you sleep without me,â he mumbled against your neck. âNot happeninâ.â
You didnât push him away. But you didnât answer either.
He groaned dramatically, tightening his hold. âDoll, this is torture. Actual torture. You could stab me and itâd hurt less. Say somethinâ. Anything. Please.â
Still, you stayed quiet.
The next morning, you woke up to a surprise.
Coffee brewed, pancakes on the table, bacon crisped just right. Bucky stood there in an apron that read âKiss the Cook,â holding a mug out toward you.
âI googled âhow to apologize to your wife after being a stubborn jackass,ââ he confessed sheepishly. âThis was step three. Step four was jewelry, but I thought maybe that was overkill.â
You bit back a smile, taking the coffee without a word.
Buckyâs eyes widened like he might actually die on the spot. âYouâre killinâ me here. Iâm not kiddinâ, sweetheart, Iâm losinâ years off my life. Just tell me Iâm an idiot. Tell me you hate me. Tell me the sky is blue. I donât care what it is, justâsay something.â
You let the silence stretch, sipping your coffee with exaggerated calm.
Finally, his jaw set, and he stomped over, grabbing your face in both hands.
âFine. You wanna play hardball? Then listen up.â His voice cracked just slightly. âI canât stand when youâre mad at me. I hate it. It makes me feel like I canât breathe. You donât talk to me, and itâs like Iâm right back where I used to beâalone. And I canâtââ He stopped, swallowing hard. âI canât go back to that. Not with you. So if I gotta beg, if I gotta crawl, if I gotta spend every day provinâ Iâll never take you for grantedâIâll do it. But donât shut me out, sweetheart. Please.â
You blinked up at him, stunned by the rawness in his voice.
And then, finally, you smiled. âYouâre ridiculous.â
Bucky froze. Then his face broke into the brightest grin youâd ever seen. âShe speaks!â
âYou are ridiculous,â you repeated, smacking his chest lightly. âFlowers, pancakes, puppy eyes? All because I didnât talk to you for one day?â
âOne day too long,â he said seriously, before crushing you into his chest. âDonât ever do that again. My heart canât take it.â
âYouâre such a drama queen,â you teased, laughing into his shirt.
âDrama king,â he corrected smugly, pressing kisses all over your face. âMr. Barnes, drama king, husband of the year whatever you wanna call me, doll, Iâll take it, as long as youâre talkinâ to me again.â
You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. And when he kissed you again, soft and slow and so very Bucky, you decided maybe next time youâd let him win an argument faster.
After all, watching your super-soldier husband unravel like that? Kind of adorable.
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đ tagged babies under the cut đ
the gangâs all here! drawn by me!
WAIT WHA
headcanoning Ford is a much bigger menace than Stan during highschool days but he gets away with it..
SEBAASTIAN STAN, 'Oh my god, Sebastian Stan, man you looking good!'Â