๐ด๐ฉ๐ฆ/๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ. ๐น๐น๐ช. ๐ต๐ข๐ถ๐ณ๐ถ๐ด | @๐ค๐ณ๐ช๐ฆ๐ด๐ช๐ฏ๐ญ๐ช๐ฆ๐ด๐ด
ยปโ anything marked with an astrik contains explicit content. minors dni.
ยปโ all work is my own. please do not repost anywhere else without my consent.
ยปโ anything marked with an astrik contains explicit content. minors dni.
ยปโ all work is my own. please do not repost anywhere else without my consent.
Pairing: childhood best friend fuckboy!Bucky x hopeless romantic!Reader
Summary: Your friend group is having a night out at the local carnival. Bucky is his charming self and you are tired of pretending it doesnโt affect you.
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: friends to something-maybe-more tension; unrequited love (the perceived kind); heartbreak; unspoken feelings; light angst; emotional withdrawal; miscommunication; mentions of Bucky being a fuckboy and flirting with other girls
Authorโs Note: I know this turned out to be a little longer than planned for these drabbles and I did want to end it at around 1.6k words but I felt like the conversation just needed a little more. Anyway, this is based on this request from my sweet, sweet mutual!!
2k Drabble Challenge Masterlist | Masterlist
Everywhere around you are colors. Blinking, buzzing, glowing colors. Neon reds and golden yellows. Cotton candy blues shaping the darkening sky.
The air is dense with the smell of sugar and smoke, a little burnt, a little sweet - like fireworks melting.
A thousand voices are stitched into the dark. Booths are being crowded, laughter rings out from all around you. Something about it feels like nostalgia wrapped in noise. Summer hanging off your skin.
You walk through it all in a slow dream.
Sam is saying something funny. Steve is losing his mind over who won the water gun race with Natasha. Wanda is laughing so hard she snorts.
You are smiling, but not all the way. Only with your mouth. Your head is somewhere else. Somewhere maybe not here at all.
Wandaโs arm is looped through yours, her voice warm in your ear, but youโre not hearing a word.
Because youโre in your head again.
And in your head, thereโs a boy.
Thereโs always a boy.
Heโs got a crooked grin and impossible eyes. Hands made for trouble. And a voice that is meant to live in your name.
Heโs in your head because he canโt be anywhere outside of it.
Itโs safer for you if he stays in here - because when you let yourself drift, you can imagine what it would be like if things were just a little different. If he was just a little different. If he looked at you the way you look at him when heโs not paying attention. If he loved you back.
You imagine him holding your hand under the glow of cotton candy lights.
You imagine his voice soft only for you.
You imagine his heart not borrowed.
Heโs been your best friend since sandbox days and scraped knees. Since secrets shared under blankets and hiding from thunder in the dark. And somewhere along the way he became the sun and you became the shadow. Orbiting. Always too close to stay safe. Always too far to be seen.
And lately, youโve been pulling back.
Not because you want to, but because you have to. Because watching him flirt with every pretty girl who captures his attention is like slowly bleeding out from the inside. And maybe thatโs dramatic. Maybe youโre just being the hopeless romantic again, building castles in clouds and crying when the rain comes.
But god, you wish you didnโt feel so much.
โHey, whereโs Barnes?โ Sam asks casually, looking around.
You do too. Because you just canโt help yourself. But you shouldnโt have.
And your fantasies shatter for the thousandth time.
Heโs across the way, at a booth that smells like vanilla and sugar and heartbreak. Heโs leaning against the counter. Smiling that easy smile. The one he gives to girls heโll forget tomorrow. The one he doesnโt give to you.
The girl behind the counter is giggling.
Of course, she is.
Sheโs pretty and pink-cheeked with her long hair fastened at the back of her head, possibly with a hair clip you canโt see. Because sheโs not turning around. Not turning away from Bucky.
Bucky is saying something. Itโs probably something charming, something easy. And your stomach drops as if you just stepped off the edge of the Ferris wheel.
You blink too long. Swallow too hard.
Something sharp blooms in your ribs, something that nowadays never fully heals. A bruise where no one can see it.
The group keeps chatting around you but you canโt hear them anymore. The noise of the carnival dulls. It all dulls. The lights, the heat, the movement - all of it fades to background static as you stare and think, of course.
Of course, he couldnโt even make it one night.
This was supposed to be for all of you. This was supposed to be just your night as a group - no distractions, no other girls, no stupid charm shows. Just friends, food, maybe a ride or two, laughing till your face hurt.
But Bucky Barnes cannot help himself as it looks like.
And you should have known better by now.
You look away just as he gestures for more powdered sugar - a generous heap of it on top of the funnel cake. Just the way you like it. But you donโt see that part. You donโt see anything but the girl smiling at him like sheโd give him her whole world for free.
โYou okay?โ
Itโs Wandaโs voice in your ear. It sounds knowing. And you hate it. Because she knows you are not okay. Knows you havenโt been for a while. And she knows why. Because other than Bucky, everyone can see your heartbreak so plainly.
โYeah,โ you lie tersely because what are you supposed to tell her when she already knows the answer is no?
Bucky comes walking back to your group a minute later holding the funnel cake carefully in both hands. He is grinning, all proud of himself, eyes scanning the group until they land on you.
He makes a beeline for you.
The group keeps moving.
Wanda, to give you some space perhaps, walks ahead, laughing as she tugs Sam toward the spinning teacups as though theyโre not entirely designed for kids under ten. Steve is shaking his head, pretending heโs not going to join in, but you all know he will. Natasha is throwing you a subtle, knowing glance before smirking at Steve.
You donโt get far.
โHere,โ Bucky says, holding the funnel cake out to you, falling in step.
But you are drifting.
Your body is here, feet touching ground, but you feel like youโre moving through molasses. Everything slow. Heavy. Your heart sticky with regret or embarrassment or whatever that fucking pain is.
You glance down at his offering. The powdered sugar is already melting into the ridges. A soft, sweet mess. It smells like childhood. Like summer. Like him, as weird as it feels.
You swallow. โIโm good.โ
You feel the warmth of him. That stupid comforting heat thatโs always just there. Like a fire you want to lean into but know better than to trust.
โYou didnโt eat all day.โ
His voice beside you comes like a tug at your sleeve.
He keeps pace beside you, his stride easy like it always is but you acknowledge that there is a difference in the way he holds himself. Less swagger. Less play. Heโs not performing. Not posturing.
You glance sideways. The funnel cake is still sitting in his hands.
Still warm. Still untouched.
โIโm not hungry, Buck. You can have it.โ You donโt really look at him.
He doesnโt answer for a few steps, just walks with you, his eyes on you, the crowd fading behind.
The gravel crunches beneath your shoes. A moth flutters through a streetlight above. The world keeps moving, but it feels like something in your chest doesnโt.
He holds the plate out again. Firmer.
โYou always eat this first,โ he says, and there is something like a forced charm in his voice. Great. He doesnโt even seem to try with you. โEvery year.โ
Your throat tightens. You donโt take it. You keep your eyes ahead. You donโt respond.
So he steps in front of you, blocking the path, just slightly. As if trying not to be obvious about it but it still is.
It makes you halt.
โTake it, doll,โ he insists. Quiet. Not demanding. Rather pleading.
Slowly, you blink up at him. His eyes are darker in the carnival lights. Blue, but tired. Thereโs something behind them. Something like a question. Like heโs reaching out with more than his hands and hoping youโll meet him halfway.
Sighing, you take it, your fingers brushing his. You pretend not to feel it. He pretends not to hold on for a second longer than needed.
Picking at the corner, you tear off a soft edge. You bring it to your mouth and chew slowly. It doesnโt taste as good as it is supposed to.
Itโs too sweet. Or not sweet enough. You donโt know.
You nod, just a little. โThanks.โ
Bucky doesnโt smile. Not like usual. His face is silence and shadows. There is something unreadable there.
He starts walking again after simply staring at you for a while.
You follow.
For a few minutes, youโre just walking. Side by side. Like you always have. Like nothingโs changed. You donโt even bother looking where the others are going.
You hear him bite the inside of his cheek. You know that sound. Heโs deep in his thoughts. He does that when heโs trying not to say something too fast.
โSomethingโs up with you lately. Youโve been actinโ a little different,โ he then starts after some more thoughtful moments, voice careful, deep and raspy. โAnd I donโt know whatโs going on, but-โ he sighs deeply. โI miss you, doll. Feels like youโve been pulling back.โ
You swallow another bite of funnel cake as if itโs the most disgusting thing youโve ever eaten. It sits wrong in your gut. Makes it turn. Makes it hate you. Makes you hate it.
You glance over to your best friend. His hands are in his pockets now. Shoulders tense. Heโs not looking at you. But you can see the edge of something vulnerable in the line of his jaw.
โI donโt know,โ you get out somehow. โI guess I just needed space.โ
He nods. Slow. As if he understands. But you donโt think he does.
โIf somethingโs going on, you can-โ His tone is softened, but his voice is scratchy. Almost gravel. โYou can talk to me, doll. You know that, right?โ
You let the silence stretch.
You watch it reach between you and settle in your bones.
You think about all the words you could say and how none of them are enough.
You think about how much it hurts to want someone who never asked to be wanted.
You think about powdered sugar.
โItโs nothing.โ
You watch a paper napkin flutter across the pavement. Someone laughs nearby, giddy and golden and loud. Somewhere, the Ferris wheel creaks.
You walk a little further. Past the game booths. Past the families and kids and the couple kissing against the light-up sign that says Tunnel of love. You pretend not to see it.
He watches you. Carefully. Trying to read a page youโve scribbled over.
Bucky bumps his shoulder gently into yours, letting out a breath.
โIโm not good at this,โ he mutters, voice rough.
โAt what?โ
He shrugs, looks at the sky, then back to you. โKnowing when Iโve screwed up. With you.โ
Your throat closes around nothing. You donโt want it to. But it does.
โYou didnโt screw up,โ you reply weakly.
โThen what did I do?โ
And there is that question you canโt answer without giving yourself away.
โItโs not that simple, Buck,โ is all you give him.
โIt doesnโt have to be simple, doll,โ Bucky presses, a little more desperately. It seems like this has been gnawing at him. โBut youโre clearly keepinโ something. And I've got the feeling itโs got something to do with me.โ
Your heart thuds. The lump in your throat is unendurable now.
โYouโve been weird,โ he goes on, staring right at you. โFor weeks. Weโre makinโ plans, you cancel. Iโm callinโ you, you donโt pick up. Donโt even call me back anymore. And you wonโt tell me anything.โ His jaw flexes. โSomethingโs not right. Iโm even kinda surprised you joined us here.โ
He looks at your profile as if ready to catch the truth as it falls out of you.
You slow down. He does too.
โJust tell me if I did something,โ he begs. โIf I crossed a line. If I hurt you.โ
The carnival is alive around you, loud and bright and unaware. But this moment feels still.
โYou didnโt, okay?โ you declare. โNot really.โ
โBut kind of?โ he asks, eyebrows pulling in.
You shake your head with a vehement sigh. โYou donโt get it.โ
โThen make me get it,โ he utters with that stubborn and desperate edge. The part of him that refuses to let go. That never has.
โIโm not mad at you.โ Your voice is getting slighter higher. โIโm just-โ
He is watching you so openly and you hate that you canโt lie to him properly.
โIโm not keeping score, okay?โ you say suddenly. The words come out too fast. Too bitter. โI donโt sit around counting who you talk to or who you smile at or who you fucking flirt with.โ
You clamp your mouth shut.
Too much. Too much too fast.
A hand stuffs funnel cake in to keep you from saying more. Your jaw works like itโs a distraction as if sugar and dough can silence what your heart just screamed.
But Bucky already stopped walking.
You take two steps before you realize. Turn.
Heโs standing there in the half-light, shadows soft under his cheekbones, carnival glow flickering behind him like bad TV static.
Heโs looking at you as though you just dropped a grenade at his feet.
Terrific.
He exhales carefully. Stares at you. Quiet. Maybe a little sad. Maybe a little something else.
But you cannot stop now.
โItโs just- itโs always like this,โ you continue. โEvery time. We make plans as a group, we do stuff, and then you see someone pretty and youโre just gone. Like the rest of us donโt matter.โ
He looks stunned. He looks everything.
Thereโs a long stretch of silence.
โI wasnโt- I wasnโt trying to ditch you, sweetheart,โ he says almost under his breath. โI went to get you some-โ
โDoesnโt matter,โ you cut in. โBecause you always end up talking to someone else. You always find some new girl to flirt with, even when itโs supposed to be just us.โ
You tear off another bite and donโt eat it.
โI didnโt flirt with her,โ he says, after a beat. His voice is low. Testing. โI swear to you, I wasnโt. I just wanted to get the cake right.โ A hand drags through his hair. His voice turns even softer. Dejected in a way. โYou looked- I donโt know. You just didnโt look okay. Hoped it might cheer you up.โ
You donโt look at him.
Because youโd crumble if you did.
You lick sugar off your lip, suddenly furious with how gentle heโs being. How cautious. As if you are something he doesnโt know how to hold anymore.
โWhy didnโt you just tell me?โ he asks, same voice. โIf something I was doing was bothering you - why didnโt you say something?โ
โBecause it wasnโt your fault,โ you answer, and now your voice is breaking. โItโs mine. Itโs-โ You stop again. Take a breath that tastes like carnival smoke and sweetness and everything you wish you could forget. โI know who you are, Bucky. Okay? Iโve always known. You donโt owe me anything.โ
He frowns. But somehow he still looks soft while doing it. โWhat the hell does that mean?โ
You breathe in. Your fingers twitch. You stare at the funnel cake and wish it were enough to quiet the thunder in your chest.
โIt means Iโm not stupid,โ you basically whisper. โI know you. I know who you are with people. I know what your smile does and how easy it is for you to make someone feel like they matter, even if itโs just for five minutes. And itโs fine. Itโs fine, okay? I just need to stop watching it happen.โ
You feel the moment your words sink into him. You canโt take them back into your mouth and swallow them down. Canโt clean them up or smooth them over.
His eyes are like the sky just before a storm.
โIs that what you think I do?โ he asks incredulously. His voice isnโt accusing. Isnโt angry. But itโs pained. Tired. As if heโs been trying to piece something together for weeks and itโs only now starting to form into shape.
His voice is quiet but not soft. Not now. Itโs too filled with something else that is vulnerable and profound.
โYou think I go around giving pieces of myself away like candy?โ
Powdered sugar sticks to your throat.
You open your mouth. Close it again. Because yeah. Maybe you do.
He runs a hand over his jaw. Still not angry. Just hurt. Disappointed. Sad. And trying not to be.
You pick at the corner of the plate.
โThatโs not who I am with you,โ he states. And there is something different in his voice. Something wobbly. โThatโs never been who I am with you.โ
Your heart stops. Just a little.
He looks at you. So deeply. As though youโre not just some girl in a crowd. As though youโre not a thing heโll forget after five minutes. As though heโs trying to memorize the way you exist in this moment - all messy silence and half-held tears.
He steps closer.
โYou donโt have to say anything,โ he continues after a little pause. โBut doll, please donโt stand here and tell me I make people feel like they matter for five minutes. Not when Iโve been showing up for you every damn day since we were kids. Not when Iโve been-โ
He stops. Swallows the rest.
Your hands are shaking. The funnel cake is barely still a thing anymore, just warm sugar on torn paper, and you think youโre falling apart.
โI didnโt mean it like that,โ you say, barely breathing. โI just- I didnโt know how else to say it without saying too much.โ
His eyes soften.
He steps in closer. Looks down at you. His hand brushes your forearm, making your fingers stop fidgeting with the paper plate.
โYou can say too much around me, doll,โ he insists. Soft again. Certain. โYou always could.โ
The lights glitter in your peripheral. The night is filled with other peopleโs joy, but yours feels more important.
You donโt bother to think about where your friends are.
He leans down, noses almost touching. His eyebrow twitches. His throat bobs.
โJust so you know,โ he murmurs, almost like heโs not sure he should say it but knowing that if he does, he wonโt regret it. โYouโve never been five minutes. Not even close.โ
You blink fast. Look away. The ache in your chest shifts. Itโs not gone but somehow it turns gentler.
You donโt say anything. Canโt.
But you think he hears it anyway.
The hope.
Your heart.
The maybe.
And then he walks beside you again. Like he always has. Like he always will. Even when youโre a little cracked, a little afraid. Even when youโre not saying everything.
But sometimes, just saying enough is already everything.
james buchanan โbuckyโ barnes
masterlist โข marvel โข 04/11/25
หโงโบ ๏ฝฅ ห ยท เญจเง recs five
๐ฃฒ how to impress a 21st century girl I @brunchable
Sam had forced Bucky to use Tinder to solve his abysmal love life. Bucky tells himself that if third time isn't a charm, he will officially give up trying to find a partner.
๐ฃฒ i donโt want you like a best friend pt2 I @/brunchable
Bucky can't decide if the universe loves him or hates him. Maybe it loves to hate him. Maybe it's mischievous. Because heโs in love. Heโs madly, deeply, painfully in love with a girl that he knows heโll never have. Because the heavens created arguably the most perfect creature in their repertoire, dangled you in front of him for his entire life, and chose to rip you away before he had the chance to tell you how he felt.
๐ฃฒ the best worst day ever I @jobean12-blog
You're having a shit day but then you see a dog and things start looking up...
๐ฃฒ game night I @mugglebornmarvelite
Steveโs mandatory game night takes a turn when you and Bucky are paired up.
๐ฃฒ bleeding heart I @mournthebird
You're his assigned nurse.
โMARCH 2025; susan's recs
MARVEL
โโJOAQUIN TORRES
โโBUCKY BARNES
blind date @โ
creamy or crunchy @โ
in too deep @โ
like he means it @โ
weakness @โ
latte (he)art @โ
two @โ
still on the list @โ
angstober (day 16) @โ
flufftober (day 9) @โ
โโMATT MURDOCK
castle in the sky @โ
โโFRANK CASTLE
โโLOKI
SPIDER-MAN
โโANDREW! PETER PARKER
CRIMINAL MINDS
โโSPENCER REID
guilt @โ
surprise @โ
birthday @โ
OUTER BANKS
โโRAFE CAMERON
STRANGER THINGS
โโSTEVE HARRINGTON
TOP GUN: MAVERICK
โโBRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW
CELEBRITIES
โโGEORGE CLARKE
sparks fly!; i think he knows!; how to get the girl! @tomsparkyr
call it what you want @/mangoslvr
โโARTHUR HILL
collections: AUs masterlist | series collection | halloween collection 2022 | kinktober 2023 | kinktober 2024
events: let's go play in the snow together and celebrate 2k | 2.5k sleepover | letโs just knit a little bit and celebrate 3k | meet me for coffee at lukeโs and celebrate 3.5k | 4k fic recommendations | letโs go to a greek island because three men are in love with us and celebrate 5k | letโs bake something yummy to celebrate 10k
a gentle reminder about my writing: i always write y/n in a way that makes sense to me. i am autistic, so whether or not i specify it, y/n is autistic.
ยฉ 2022 thyme-in-a-bubble
summary: Long-time best friends, it's not a surprise that it's you Steve comes to when he needs a fake girlfriend. One little white lie, one perilous family dinner, one evening of pretending to be a couple.
How hard could it be?
[ 12k + best friends to lovers + fake dating + fem!reader]
STEP ONE: THE PROPOSAL
"Be my girlfriend."
The glass held between your fingers slips and makes a loud bang as it hits the sink. The water from the tap pours over it, unaware of the incredibly unusual change in the universe that just occurred.
You tilt your head up, ignoring the lost glass, and raise your eyebrows high. "Come again?"
Steve huffs a little, as though you're the one being rather dramatic, and leans further forward across the island. His hands are planted firmly, his hazel eyes wide as he all but pouts at you. You're still grappling with where the hell that came from.
"Be my girlfriend. Please." He says. "For just one dinner, I promise. I swear I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't actually desperate."
You blink, clearly having missed a beat somewhere.
Frowning, you finally shut off the tap and rescue your abandoned glass from the bottom of the sink. You pick up and give it a quick once over for any chips. Scot-free, luckily.
"Okay, back up." You say, giving a small shake to clear your head. You make a face. "First of all, Harrington, ouch."
Summary: when all else fails, try sleeping next to someone whoโll hold you accountable
Warnings: fluff, funny jokes, miscommunication
Word Count: quick written in app couple hundred words
A/N: just before I go to sleep, you can have this little idea
You couldnโt remember the last time you had a good night sleep. Ever since you took up the offer to move onto the new Avengers campus for training, you just couldnโt seem to switch off. The bed was too new and firm. You felt self conscious knowing the rest of the team were in rooms around you, most of them practically strangers. Your muscles ached from hours of work outs and fight training. Your brain constantly going back over the things youโd done wrong. Your body ached. Your eyes were heavy, yet still you couldnโt sleep.
