Request: Could I request a one shot where the reader always wears makeup and doesn’t really like anybody seeing her without (mostly because she’s not used to people seeing her without) and Bucky accidentally sees her in pjs and glasses and no makeup? (So cliche, I know) if she didn’t have hair long enough to tie up that’d be great cause all I ever read about is girls with long beautiful hair which I don’t have :P
It was well past midnight. Normally most of the Avengers were up late but the ones who were sleeping at the Avengers tower that night, were all out cold before eleven. You were pretty certain that you were the only one up, the whole tower was dead silent, which only ever happens when everyone’s asleep. Normally the whole tower was always loud, something was always happening and messes were constantly being made.
Since the tower was silent and you were pretty sure everyone was asleep, you built up the courage to run out of your room to get something to drink. Was it a big deal to get something to drink in the middle of the night? No. Was it a big deal for you to run out of your room without an ounce of makeup on and risking someone seeing you? Yes.
Not one of the Avengers, or anyone, has ever seen you without your normal glam on. Makeup, jewelry, fabulous clothes, perfect nails, not even your hair was ever messy. You’re always glammed up and looking fabulous around everyone, even if it was a lazy day.
Currently, you were not glammed up. You were wearing joggers, an oversized t-shirt that said, “Babette ate oatmeal”, from your favorite tv show Gilmore Girls. Your hair was being pushed back by a thin headband. Your bangs were sticking up from behind the headband. Your hair, which was only a little above your shoulders, had pieces sticking in different angles. It looked like you had rolled across your rug for several minutes, causing your hair to look like you had just survived a tornado.
Your face was scrubbed clean and smelled like lavender from your nighttime face wash, not a single drop of makeup was on your face. Your contacts had came out hours ago, your huge square shaped glasses were now resting on your nose. You didn’t even know if the Avengers knew you wore glasses, they never saw you wear them after all. You had a couple hair ties on your wrist but nothing jewerly wise.
You looked like how you did every night, after you went to your room for the night and no one else saw you until morning.
You had made it safely to the kitchen, all the lights in the tower were off and the kitchen was being illuminated by the city lights from the floor to ceiling windows in the kitchen. You didn’t fall while reaching for your favorite water bottle on one of the top shelves, you didn’t understand how everyone seemed to forget that everyone on the team wasn’t six feet tall. You always had to climb on top of the counter to get cups, whereas people like Tony, Steve and Bucky only had to simply lift an arm.
You flavored your water by putting cucumbers in your drink, it tasted good and it detoxes your body. You shoved a straw down the hole in the lid and turned to head back to your room, when the lights in the kitchen suddenly flicked on.
You jumped and one of your arms flung up to cover your face, your other hand still clutching your water bottle.
“What’re you doing?” A voice to which you recognized as Bucky’s caused your heart rate to accelerate. His voice came from behind you and you refused to turn to look at him, he was probably staring at the back of your messy hair. Your chest clenched from anxiety of what he might be thinking right now.
“What’re you doing?” You threw the question back at him.
“What’re you doing?” He repeated his question, refusing to answer yours. You inwardly groaned.
“What’re you doing?” Maybe if you annoyed him he would leave.
“Y/n! I asked you first.”
“Second’s the best, sorry I don’t make the rules.” This time he groaned, and you could hear him taking a couple steps towards you, so you took a couple steps forward.
“I couldn’t sleep.” He stated, his voice was closer this time. “Your turn.”
“I wanted something to drink, see? Nothing out of the ordinary, now if you excuse me-” You were cut off when he suddenly ran in front of you, you covered your face with both arms and looked downward. “Bucky!”
Summary: As a high-end fashion designer you’re living an extensively comfortable life. When your relationship of six years ends, you’re not too happy to see your newly-ex on the arm of another woman directly after; which is part of the reason you don’t mind running in to two men, who seem to have some exciting plans with you. As a woman who always gets what she wants, you immediately recognise men who are used to that exact same thing, and you’re more than happy to be the one to put them in their place.
Words: 935 Pairing: Avengers x Reader Featuring: much of Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers Warnings: none Requested by anons (idk if it was the same person but there’s two) “Could you write a fic where the reader steals everyone’s clothes and all the avengers just get used to it. But Pietro and Wanda join and are very confused and have to ask the others about it. All platonic. Thanks babes. Xoxox. XD” AND “Ok so, I really enjoyed your last post, so I wanted to ask for a fic. I was wondering if you’d write a fluffy fic where the shy/quiet!reader steals shirts of all the avengers and they just sort of get used to it and accept that that’s what they do. But then Pietro and Wanda join the team and aren’t used to the reader’s behaviour and they question the others about it. Eventually the reader only steals Pietro’s clothes and nobody knows why. Hope you see this and consider writing it. Love ya. Xoxox” Authors Note: this was funnnnnnn and IM GOING TO SEE THE SUMMER SET TONIGHT SO HERES AN EARLY POST LETS PARTY!
“Is that my hoodie?” Natasha laughed when she saw you sitting at the bar in the kitchen, eating breakfast.
You looked down at what you had on, and truth be told, it was Natasha’s two-sizes-too-big hoodie.
You shrugged and took a bite of cereal, “Yeah.”
Natasha nodded, “Am I going to get it back?” She knew how you were, but asking never hurt.
“I’ll give it to you tomorrow. I just wanted something comfortable right now,” You told her. Sometimes the team wondered why you never wore your own clothes, but they were so used to it always happening that they didn’t question it. You had your reasons, but the team came to the conclusion that they would leave it up to you to decide if you would share the reason.
But you never did that. You just kept taking clothes and sometimes returning them, and the team stopped questioning it.
Tony even offered to give you some money for new clothes if you wanted to stop borrowing and taking from everyone, but you denied him. And again, he didn’t question it; your reasons were your reasons.
“Looking great in my shirt, (Y/N),” Steve laughed when he walked into the lab.
Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Sam Wilson
Pairing: Steve x Reader
Request: Hey could you do a Steve x reader where the reader is Tonys Sister and they’re pranking Steve together with the other Avengers that the reader has a boyfriend which goes on for a few days and steve is really jealous and the reader finds him crying in his room when he then tells her that he’s in love with her and she is feeling bad that she pranked him and tells him that she loves him too.
AN: I’m sorry this took so long! Also I slightly changed the original request, but I hope you like it anyway. Enjoy!
“So, I have an idea.” Tony speaks up. “I think we should get the Captain to admit his feelings for our little Y/N over here.”
“He doesn’t have feelings for me. Don’t be ridiculous.” You answer taking another bite from your pizza. You wish that he was right, but unfortunately for you he’s not.
“Umm, yes he does.” Natasha says giving you a pointed look.
“I’m sure he does.” The conspicuous sarcasm in your tone makes everyone shake their heads. Tony and Natasha have been bugging you about this for weeks now.
“Fine, let’s put our theory to the test then.”
“How?” Natasha and Sam are immediately on board. “We’ll get Y/N a boyfriend.” You stare at your brother, your mouth open and your hand with the pizza frozen halfway to your mouth. Did he just say what you think he said?
“How is that going to help?” Clint asks, raising his eyebrows.
“Think about it.” Tony explains, his eyes glistening with mischief. “If we get Y/N a boyfriend and Steve knows about it? He will-”
“Tony stop it!” You demand, visibly annoyed and also kind of uncomfortable. “He’s not going to do anything. He’s not the jealous type and besides - he doesn’t like me that way.”
“You’ll believe me once he starts turning into a green-eyed monster.” You give your brother a look.
“Come on Y/N!” Natasha encourages. “You don’t have anything to lose. And if he doesn’t do anything he never has to know.”
“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to his.” Running your hands through your hair you sigh. There’s no point to this except the humiliation and rejection waiting for you at the end of the line, but you also know that you’ll never get them to back off unless you have solid proof that Steve doesn’t have feelings for you.
Several ‘I’m in’s’ echo through the room. Sam, Clint and of course Tony are all for it. “Let’s plan our first move.” Tony loves scheming. He looks like a little kid on Christmas Morning.
The next morning the entire team is having breakfast in the kitchen, except you and Steve that is. For whatever reason you decided to sleep in today. Looking over his shoulder Tony sees the Captain walking around the corner and immediately takes action.
“My ears are going to fall off one of these days. I swear to god Y/N won’t shut up about him.” The others immediately understand what he’s doing.
“Right?” Natasha plays along. “I didn’t think it was this serious, but apparently it is. She’s never talked about anybody this much.” ‘Except Steve’ she mentally adds. “I think she really likes him.”
Steve knows that it’s none of his business and that he shouldn’t ask, but he can’t help himself. “Who are we talking about?” He asks, opening the fridge
“Y/N’s new boyfriend.” Steve stiffens and his grip on the door handle tightens. How come he’s never heard you talking about him before? How is he the only one who doesn’t know about this? Steve can practically feel his heart drop to his stomach. He grabs a bottle of water and slowly closes the refrigerator door.
“So, who is he?” Steve digs further. He’s not sure he even wants to know the answer to his question, but he asks anyway.
“We don’t know.” Natasha answers, hiding her smile behind her mug.
“His name is Dean, but none of us has ever met him, not yet anyway.” Clint adds, making the lie more convincing by adding a random name.
Steve nods, looking down on his hands. Dean. “Well, I’ll be in the training room.” He turns around and heads towards the training rooms on the second floor, leaving a whole bunch of grinning Avengers behind, unaware of that they’re planning.
While the others are having breakfast you head straight to the gym to blow off some steam. You still can’t believe you agreed to this whole fake boyfriend thing. You already know the outcome. Walking inside the training room your eyes immediately land on a certain blue eyed super solider.
Great. It’s hard enough to keep your emotions in check when he’s not wearing a tight muscle shirt and looking like a god, but now this? Steve looks over his shoulder to see who entered the room, but to your surprise he doesn’t say anything, not even 'good morning’ like he usually does. What’s up with him?
“Good morning.” You smile, waiting for a response. He mumbles a half hearted 'morning’, not even bothering to turn around to look at you. Deciding to leave him to his work out you drown yourself in your own, trying not to be hyper aware of his presence.
A few hours later Natasha enters the training room. “Y/N! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” You turn around to see your best friend standing in the doorway.
“I think you should get ready now. Your date is in an hour.” Date? You raise your eyebrows, looking at her like she suddenly grew another head. “Date?” She gives you a pointed look. Right! This is part of Tony’s little game.
“Right! I didn’t realize it was this late already.” You play along, trying to sound convincing. Steve watches the exchange with curious eyes, his heart beating in his chest.
Grabbing Natasha by her arm you drag her out the door. Steve’s eyes follow you until the door falls shut behind you. Staring at the closed the door he sighs. He has no right to be jealous. You’re not his. But god how he wishes you were.
Another hour later you stand in front of your mirror, your eyes closed. “God, Natasha this is ridiculous. Can I open my eyes now?” You already regret agreeing to your brother’s little game.
You open your eyes and take in your reflection. You hate being all dressed up, but you have to admit that Natasha knows what she’s doing. You’re wearing a dark blue summer dress, that in your opinion somehow matches Steve’s eye color, and a pair of flat sandals. Simple, classy and undeniably beautiful. You can’t help but smile a little as you turn around to thank your best friend. “I love it.”
“You’re welcome.” She winks. “Now get downstairs.” Without another word she leaves the room. Applying some lip balm you head down to the living room, wondering how the hell they got you a date. You can hear the others talking in the living room as you walk down the stairs. The voices abruptly stop as you enter the room. Your eyes immediately lock with familiar blue ones and your heart starts beating heavily in your chest. After a few moments you force yourself to tear your eyes from his. The last thing you need is for him to notice your constant staring.
“Damn Y/N!” Clint whistles.
“Shut up.“ You and Tony say simultaneously. You didn’t see the way Steve was looking at you up until the moment Clint whistled, which caused him to turn his head towards Clint, glaring daggers at his fellow Avenger. Nobody whistles at his girl. As soon as the thought leaves his mind he shakes his head. His girl? He has no right to think of you as his girl.
"Alright, he’s downstairs.” Natasha enters the room. “See you tonight.” She motions for you to go on.
“I guess I’ll see you later.” You force yourself to smile as you head over to the elevator. Walking out the front door you spot one of Tony’s cars in the drive way and head towards it. You bend down a bit and look into the open window to find Sam sitting in the drivers seat. “Ready to go?”
Shaking your head you get in, a small smile playing on your lips. "Let’s just go.“ These guys are just unbelievable.
The minute you left Steve decided to go back to the training room. He only went downstairs because Tony wanted to talk about the upcoming mission and now he wishes he'd just stayed in the training room. You looked so beautiful and now you’re on a date with another man.
Steve enters the training room and immediately goes for the punching bag, working out his frustrations. He needs to take his mind off you or he will completely lose it. A few well-placed hits later the chain that’s securing the punching bag to the ceiling breaks, sending the bag flying across the room before it hits the floor with a thud.
"Damn, Cap.” A voice snaps Steve out of his thoughts. “What got your star spangled panties in a twist?”
“Tony…” Steve sighs, covering his eyes with his hand. “I’m not in the mood.”
“I can see that.” Tony suppresses a smile, knowing that his plan is working.
“We’re all having dinner together tonight. Sam is out and Y/N probably won’t be back by then, but Natasha thinks we need team bonding time.” Steve feels his heart contract in his chest, forcing him to take a deep calming breath.
“Yeah, fine.” Without another word Steve grabs another punching bag and continues his work out.
You spend the day with Sam, driving around, going for dinner. Two friends spending time together. By the time you get back to the Tower it’s well past midnight. Sam wanted to avoid accidently running into Steve at all costs.
The next morning you’re barley out the door heading down to the kitchen when Clint, Sam and your brother attack you in the hallway. “What the hell?” You scream as Clint and Sam each grab one of your arms and drag you back to your room.
“Would someone tell me what the hell is going on?” You forcefully pull your arms from their grasp and glare at them.
“Put this on.” Tony says, holding out one of his button down shirts out to you.
“Y/N! Put the damn shirt on!” He yells, throwing the shirt in your face.
“Fine!” You give up. “Turn around.” Following your request the boys turn around to give you some privacy. You pull off your top, throwing it on your bed, and put on your brother’s shirt. You close the last button, roll up the sleeves and give them green light to turn back around. The shirt looks like a dress on you. It falls all the way down to your knees, covering your boxers and everything.
“And now…” Tony grins, stepping aside to reveal the small vacuum cleaner he has been hiding behind him. You stare at your brother for several moments unable to put two and two together. Then realization hits you like Thor’s hammer. No way! Getting ready to fight them you jump on your bed.
“Stay back!” You threaten the men standing in front of you.
“Come on Y/N! We agreed.”
“No! I agreed to test this ridiculous little theory of yours to prove that Steve doesn’t like me like that, so you all would finally shut up about it. I went on a date last night, thanks for that one by the way, and he didn’t care. I told you he wouldn’t. This is overdoing it.”
“Birdy one and Birdy two hold her down." Before you know what hit you you’re flat on your back, Clint and Sam holding you down while Tony presses the tube of the vacuum cleaner against the base of your neck. You scream bloody murder the entire time.
"Done.” After several minutes Tony removes the tube, grinning like an idiot.
“Ugh!” You groan and get up from your bed, walking over to your mirror. “Tony!” You stare at the big purple and blue bruise forming on your skin. It looks exactly like a hickey. “This practically yells I got laid last night!”
“That’s exactly what we were going for, baby girl.”
“Un-fucking-believable.” Shaking your head you pull up the collar of Tony’s shirt and walk out the door. You need coffee and you definitely need to get away from these idiots. The second you set foot in the kitchen you want to turn back around. Steve is sitting at the bar, drinking his coffee and reading the newspaper. You think about quietly heading back to your room but your desire for coffee eventually wins.
“Good morning.” You say, keeping your head down. You grab your favorite mug and pour yourself some coffee.
The moment Steve raises his head to answer you he wishes he hadn’t. You’re wearing what looks like nothing, but a huge white button down shirt, which couldn’t be yours. You’re wearing another man’s shirt. Steve opens his mouth to speak, but no words would come out.
“You alright over there, Cap?” You look over your shoulder, wondering why he didn’t answer you. Steve is a morning person and he’s always polite.
“Steve?” You turn around to face him, worried at his repeated lack of a response. The small movement causes Tony’s way too big shirt to slightly fall of your shoulder, revealing the giant hickey on your neck. Well, your vacuum cleaner kiss.
His eyes immediately drop to your neck, widening as he takes in the purple and blue bruising on your skin. This is it. He can’t take it anymore. Forcefully putting down his mug he stands and storms off without saying a word.
“Steve?” You call after him. What did you do? Despite your absolute certainty that he couldn’t possibly be jealous your heart begins to race in your chest. You need to know. “Aww, screw it.” Putting down your mug you run after him.
You reach his door seconds after he slammed it shut and walk in without bothering to knock. “Steve!” You call his name again. “What the hell?”
Steve’s head snaps towards the sound of your voice immediately. God, you can’t be here right now.
“Y/N I need a minute. Can you just-” You don’t even let him finish his sentence.
“No! No, I can’t just leave. What the hell is your problem?”
“Nothing." Closing his eyes he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. He shakes his head. "I need you to leave.”
“Not unless you tell me why.” You stand your ground, determined to get the truth out of him.
“Listen, Y/N you can’t be here right now. I don’t-” He interrupts himself, looking anywhere but at you.
“What did I do?” You feel a familiar burning behind your eyes. “What did I do to make you hate me so much you can’t even stand to look at me?”
“It’s not you.” He yells, raising his eyes to yours. He didn’t mean to raise his voice, but his frustration got the better of him. “It’s him!”
“Him?” You know what your attire looks like, but you can’t make any sense of his heavy reaction. Who on earth his he talking about? “Him who?”
“Dean!” He can’t believe you’re still playing dumb. He has more proof than he needed.
“Who the hell is Dean?” You yell, unable to stay calm. Steve stares at you confused and slightly annoyed. Now you’re not making any sense to him.
“Who the hell his Dean?” You ask again, since he failed to answer your question the first time.
“What do you mean who is Dean? He’s your boyfriend. Shouldn’t you at least know his name?”
Dean. Boyfriend. Fake boyfriend. “I don’t have a boyfriend!” You scream utterly frustrated.
“They all lied to you, because they thought it would get you to admit your nonexistent feelings for me! Tony, Sam and Clint attacked me with a vacuum cleaner this morning and I’m wearing Tony’s shirt, because I was trying to prove that they’re wrong! I need them to realize you don’t feel that way about me, so they stop talking about it all the time, so I can finally get over you and move on with my li-”
This time it’s you who doesn’t get to finish their sentence. In a matter of seconds Steve has you pinned against his door, his mouth hot on yours. The second your lips make contact you feel like someone spilled an entire can of gasoline inside you and set it on fire. You’re not exactly sure what’s happening, but your body reacts all on his own, enthusiastically kissing him back. Steve presses his body harder against yours, making any space there might have still been between the two of you nonexistent.
Several moments later he suddenly pulls away from you, his breathing heavy and uneven. Staring into his blue eyes you take a deep shaky breath, trying to get your heart so slow down. You can’t believe that just happened. Steve Rogers just kissed you. Your eyes wander to his perfect pink lips, which were kissing you only seconds ago.
Steve puts his hand under your chin, raising your eyes to his. “I do feel that way about you.” If you weren’t still trapped between the door and his body you’re sure that your knees would have given out. “I have been since the moment I met you.”
“I- You do? I don’t-” You stutter, unable to comprehend what he just said.
“I love you.” He whispers, his eyes searching yours.
“I love you too.” You breathe, a smile forming on your lips. And with that finally said he leans down and kisses you again.
Oh man, so months ago, I promised @khirsahle that I’d draw something for her Young Avengers fanfiction, Across the Universe, (please go read it now; it’s part of her Teenage Wasteland series, which isSO GOOD) and I finally got around to it today. Well, I tried. The coloring veered kind of super desperately out of control and the tone is way too dramatic and ~dark~. ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚
I’m sorry!!! Even if it doesn’t work for you, I hope you appreciate it, Khirsah!!!
The lineart might be slightly better:
So today I learned a lot about coloring, oh yes I did.
“do you ever think about the past? about how different today would be if yesterday was different?” “I know I wouldn’t be in this fucking freezing house if things had been different.” (request)
pairing: bucky x reader warnings: fluffffff word count: 2155
The house is cold, and a part of you curses Sam and Steve for abandoning you and Bucky in this place of all places. The grey floorboards groan under your sock-clad feet as you walk down the stairs, pulling the sleeves of your sweater– Bucky’s sweater– over your hands.
Bucky sits on the dusty couch, a blanket pulled up over his legs with the corners tucked under his shoulders. He holds a mug of cocoa in his hands, long fingers curled around the cup that he brings up to his mouth every so often. He looks warm and inviting, and so like Bucky.
He pauses when he sees you, with the mug at his mouth, eyes peering over it as his gaze travels down your body, then back up, taking in the sight of you. His eyes are blue, so blue, and they stop travelling momentarily to look at the sweater you’re wearing. His eyebrow cocks up, then the corners of his lips.
You shiver from the cold, wet hair sticking to the back of your neck. It’s freezing and he must have noticed, because he lifts up the corner of the blanket, pulling back his feet just enough to give you room. His eyes are still transfixed on yours, and you maintain his gaze as you sit down, pulling the blanket up and tangling your legs with Bucky’s.
He smiles in response, then turns back towards the T.V. you just notice is on. It’s a television show, in some language or another, you don’t know which one, but Bucky seems to be mildly interested and you assume that he understands what’s going on.
You watch him as he watches the show, admiring the curve of his lips and the way his pink-tinged cheeks stand out against his dark hair. He’s beautiful, in every sense of the word, and every part of you wants him to know it, but it’s not just something you can say and move on. You and Bucky are close, but there are boundaries and your heart constricts at the thought of crossing them.
“What are you staring at, doll?” He breaks you away from your thoughts. He’s still not looking at you, but he’s smiling, and you can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. The room’s suddenly warmer than it was seconds ago. “Your mug of cocoa,” you say quickly. “There any more packets?”
Your heart hammers against your rib cage when he turns to look at you, the edges of a smirk still on his face. “Nah, ’s the last one.” You nod, and you think that’s the end of that, but then he holds the mug out to you. “Want some?”
You mutter another thanks and wrap your fingers around the cup, cold hand brushing Bucky’s warm ones. His head turns to the side, ever so slightly, and his lips part. You pull the mug towards your body, relishing in its warmth. A sip of the liquid is enough to warm your insides, and it reminds you so much of the man in front of you – whose eyes linger on your face as you drink – that it almost hurts. It’s exactly how you imagine Bucky: wintery warm, like cinnamon and a fireplace on a cold day.
“Nice sweater, by the way,” he says when you give him the mug, and maybe there’s a wink thrown in there; you can’t be sure, but you’re laughing at him, cheeks red again as his smile widens.
“Thanks. It’s almost as nice as the person it belongs to.” You watch as his lips pull into a grin, a full laugh escaping his mouth. He throws his head back, and the sound resonates off his chest and fills your ears with bliss.
“Looks better on you than it does on me, sweetheart.” He passes the mug to you again.
You love this calm that exists between the two of you– knowing that you can say anything and you know he’ll always take it in the right way. You love how every moment with him, whether you’re flirting or joking or simply sitting in silence, is so comfortable, so pure.
A yawn escapes your lips as you swallow the last bit of warmth in the cup. You set it down and rub your eyes, yawning again.
“Tired?” You nod. “C'mere.”
His hands gently wrap around your upper arms, pulling you towards him. You don’t resist, letting him reposition you so that the both of you are laying half on top of each other on the tiny couch. You can hear the beat of his heart from here, slow and steady. You close your eyes.
“Do you ever think about the past? How different today would be if yesterday was different?”
The question’s crossing a line that you’re not sure he’s ready to step over yet. For a moment you can feel him tense under you, the hand wrapped around your midsection becoming the slightest bit tighter, pulling you closer into his chest. Then he relaxes, hand still tight around you but breathing easy again.
“Yeah.” He’s silent for a moment again, and maybe that’s all he has to say. Then– “I know I wouldn’t be in this fucking freezing house if things had been different.” He laughs a little, and you open your eyes just the slightest bit to peer at him through your lashes. He’s staring down at you, and all you can see is the cold-water blue of his eyes, pulling you in, drowning you. He’s so close that his scent fills your lungs, suffocating you. If this is how you’re going to die, then it’s exactly how you want to go.
Bucky’s hand starts moving, rubbings circles on your side as he looks away. You relax into his touch, closing your eyes again. “You wouldn’t have met me either.” Your words slur together out of sleepiness, but your body is awake enough to feel the tingles of joy when Bucky lets out another laugh.
It’s quiet again for a while after that, except for hum of the television playing in the background.
You’re almost asleep when you speak up again. “Bucky?”
Your heart pounds in your chest. There are words sitting on the tip of your tongue, and all it would take is a breath, and they’d be spoken, but what if it messes up your relationship with Bucky? What if he sees you differently? What if? What if? What if–
“I think I’m in love with you, Bucky.”
His hand stops moving, and you can feel your chest sinking, being sucked inwards by the hole that you’ve just pierced in your heart. You sit up, scrambling off of Bucky to look at him. He sits up too, staring right back at you, blue eyes sending a shiver through your body that makes goosebumps spread across your arms.
“What?” His voice is deep, guarded like it was when you’d first met him, when– when he didn’t trust you. “What did you say?”
“Bucky, I–” You reach out to touch him but he pulls back, standing up now. He towers over you, and you stare up at him with wide eyes, unable to look away.
For a moment he searches your face, all walls up. His gaze implores you, first your eyes, then your nose, your lips and then back up to your eyes, laced with desperation and something more. Then he seems to relax. “I think I’m going to head to bed now.”
“Bucky, stop, please. I’m sorry, I–”
He continues to walk away from you. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
There’s a ringing in your ears that you can’t get rid of, and your breathing is so laboured that you’re surprised you’re even awake and conscious. Any bit of tiredness you’d been feeling is gone. “Bucky,” you whisper, voice cracking. “Please– please.”
He pauses at the foot of the stairs, back to you, hand wrapped around the railing so tightly it groans under his strength. Still, he’s quiet. Listening.
“Why do you do this, Bucky?” You croak. “Why do you pull me in so close, only to push me away?”
This time he turns to look at you, wide eyes rimmed with red. You want to go towards him, to hold him and ask him why he treats you like this– is it something you’ve done? Because you can fix it. You can try. But your body refuses to move, and you’re stuck frozen, staring at Bucky with wet eyes and a heavy heart.
He doesn’t say anything, just stares back at you, as if he’s looking through you. His grip tightens around the railing, and the wood splinters slightly. He’s breathing heavy again, chest rising and falling alarmingly fast, contrasting the rest of him that’s standing completely still.
Then his shoulders drop. He let’s go of the railing, letting his arms fall limp by his sides before he brings his hands to rub his face.
“Because I’m scared,” he says finally, sinking to the ground and putting his head in his hands. You’re not sure you’ve heard him correctly, but your feet unfix themselves from the ground and you approach him carefully, taking a seat on the step beside him.
“Bucky,” you place your hand on his back, tentatively, afraid that he might move away, but he remains still under your touch. “What do you mean?” You can feel his body trembling, and your heart aches for him.
“I can’t put you in danger,” he says. His lifts his head to look at you, eyes full of distress. “That’s what I do, Y/N, I put everyone around me in danger.”
“I have enemies. People I don’t even know want to kill me.” He holds you by the shoulders, fingers lightly digging into your arms. “What if they come back for me, Y/N? What if they take you instead?”
He keeps talking, frenzied thoughts spilling out of his mouth like flowing ink. He’s letting his heart out– thoughts and feelings that he’s kept bottled up for months, things he hasn’t told to Steve or Sam or you prior to now. His face is wet with tears, and his grip becomes tighter and his breathing becomes shallower and he’s between sobbing and panicking so you do the first thing you can think of.
You kiss him.
It’s soft and slow. You put your hands on either side of his face, caressing his cheeks as you move your lips, grazing them over his soft ones. He doesn’t respond at first, but you can slowly feel his breathing return to a normal pace, and then he moves in sync with you. He tastes like cocoa and cinnamon, warm and homey, and exactly like you’d expected.
You’re gasping for breath when you pull away, leaning your head against his forehead and keeping your hands on his cheeks. “Bucky,” you say, breathing out his name. “We all have pasts that are trying to catch up with us.” You see him swallow. “I have you. We have Sam and Steve and Wanda and Nat and Tony and Rhodey and Peter and Scott and so many more people, Buck.”
“But I love you. And I can’t live every moment of my life being so close to you and so far away from you at the same time, Bucky. I can’t.”
He closes his eyes, just breathing for a moment, and when he opens them again, his eyes seem bluer than before. He brings up his hands to swipe his thumbs across your face, wiping your eyes dry. Maybe it’s seconds, maybe it’s hours, who knows? The two of you sit together, foreheads touching, the chill of the room vanishing as you heat each other.
“Stay with me, tonight?” He says finally. You strain to hear him, his words a quiet whisper.
The hole in your heart mends itself, building up pieces as a warmth bubbles in your chest and spreads to the tip of your fingers and toes. You nod, closing your eyes and smiling.
“Kiss me again, Bucky, please.” Then he nods, and then he laughs again, and then he kisses you. Again.
A lot of the time you think about the past, think about how different things would be if something in your life hadn’t gone the way it had. Maybe that terrible thing that happened five years ago wouldn’t have happened. Maybe you’d still be friends with that one person. And maybe you wouldn’t be sitting in this cold-ass house, freezing your toes off. But god, every bit of you, even the ice cold toes, are so grateful that things worked out the way they did, because they led you here, to this moment, kissing the man you’re in love with. And maybe this place is cold, and maybe it’s not your house, but it’s here that you feel most at home.