Hands

hands

bonus:

i mean… how could you not love those pretty puppy eyes?? they’re mesmerizing 🤍

#it’s all about the eyes

awww god, i love 40s Bucky with all my heart, this was so sweet and adorable 🥺💗

His Girl

Bucky Barnes One-shot

A/N: I've been really sad lately & had my period last week (which obviously did not help), which is what prompted this one shot. This is the first time I'm writing for Bucky so I hope it lives up to your expectations (at least a few of them). Please feel free to leave comments and advice, I'm new to writing fanfiction so I would love the feedback. Thank you <3

Tags: fluff, mention of period blood? but mostly cramping, vintage!Bucky x female Rogers!reader, kinda domestic, some societal stigmas, petnames, poor proofreading skills :/, comfort fic

Your monthlies were starting.

You could tell from the way your bones protested as you moved around the house, a dull stabbing pain shooting through your pelvis any time you bent down to dust something. You were just trying to get some chores done before your mother and older brother got back from town. Saturday was grocery shopping day, and they had left early. Your budding nausea had kept you in bed for a good part of the morning so you hadn’t even managed to get up and remind your brother Steve to get some lemon balm for the cramps. You hoped he’d remember anyways.

Once you’d wiped through the kitchen and mopped around the small living area, you flopped down onto the patch-work sofa to catch a breath. You didn’t necessarily have to be doing housework on a weekend but you liked helping around the house. Your mother had worked multiple jobs throughout her life to support you and your brother, even made sure to put you through school. Once Steve had started getting sick, there had also been the added expense of his treatments. Your mother never once complained or asked for help. So as much as you liked sticking your nose in a book and day dreaming away your dull existence, you did your best to help out anyways.

Besides, though you were graduating high school this year, you still hadn’t found a proper job. You wanted to pull your weight around the house on the monetary front, knowing well Steve wasn’t able to get some of the better paying jobs on account of his health. Your brother was tough, but potential employers would take one look at his lanky physique and tell him to take a hike. Best he could manage was working at one of those fancy diners downtown where all the hip kids liked to hang out and drink milkshakes on hot afternoons. And he had to wear a ridiculous cone-shaped hat. You'd worked a couple shifts there as well, but never for long for fear of messing up at school. You wanted to do well, maybe go to a college. Society was beginning to afford more opportunities to women and you wanted to make your family proud.

Steve’s best friend Bucky though, had the time of his life. He would schedule his dates during Steve’s shifts so he could impress the girls by getting free milkshakes. It wasn’t sustainable but Bucky could probably talk his way out of the situation if the owner, Mr. Codd, ever noticed. You’d told them it was a bad idea but then Bucky had started asking his dates to bring a friend for his friend so they could double date and Steve had thrown your concerns out the window. You gave up after that. You swore, Barnes could get away with anything if he tried hard enough.

Wincing, you adjusted yourself on the sofa. You were wondering if you should just take a nap, when the sound of someone knocking on the screen door interrupted you. Huffing, you got up and rolled your eyes as you recognized the silhouette. Why Bucky Barnes was standing on your porch on a Saturday afternoon instead of terrorizing some poor slugger in the neighborhood was beside you but it wasn’t a surprise. He was here all the time. Your mother even had an extra place set for him at the table.

When you had all been kids, you used to tag around after your big brother and his best friend, worshipping the ground they walked on, always expecting an adventure. At some point, Bucky had become annoyed with Steve’s baby sister tailing them wherever they went. And by the time he’d gotten over it, it had been your turn to be annoyed. Why did he have to be in your house all the time? Wasn’t it enough that he got to be with Steve at school and all the other places they went? You felt like you never got to spend time with your own brother. Not to mention you had to share a room with your mother so you felt like there was never any privacy in this small house. When you would go to Steve’s room to get away, Bucky would be there already, sitting where you should be sitting, making your brother laugh over some joke you should be telling. It would piss you off to no end.

You lost count of the number of pranks you and Bucky played on each other just to see who could get the biggest rise out of the other. Your mothers had to sit you both down and talk sense into you. They had ignored it at first as you two just being teenagers but things had gotten a little out of hand when Bucky had hidden some of your school work after a fight and you had gotten back by mixing honey in his pot of Brylcreem. You’d witnessed Bucky’s anger towards the boys who would bully Steve at school, but had never been at its receiving end yourself. You knew he used his saved up work money to buy himself that little luxury which was why it had been the obvious target. But the dark of his eyes had scared you that day, trained in your direction. After that, you gave up pranking him pretty quickly. It was one of the worst feelings you'd ever experienced.

Over the last few years however, you had both grown to tolerate each other. Sometimes, Bucky would ask your advice about what to wear on a date or just talk about his day if he came over during one of Steve’s particularly bad asthma spells, so you guys could keep an eye on him. You would spend a lot of that time getting him to help you with school work because no matter how much of a troublemaker he was, he’d always been responsible at school and was one of the smartest people you knew. Begrudgingly, you grew close enough to call each other friends.

Swinging the door open, you glared at the brunette.

“You know Steve’s not here, right?”

Bucky sauntered past you without a care.

“Yes ma’am,” he smirked. “Punk told me to wait for him. We’re gonna go down to the docks, find some place to help out.”

Ah. It made sense why he was dressed so casual then, just a shirt buttoned loosely over his vest, hair slicked back like always. The thought of Steve lugging boxes on the dock made you frown though, and you wondered if Ma knew about this.

“You want something to drink?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

He made himself comfortable on the spot you’d been sitting in previously, arms draped around the back of the sofa, looking around.

“Have you been cleaning, sweets?”

A part of you bristled. When you guys had been in the “pranking” phase of your relationship, Bucky liked to refer to you as “Little Hellraiser” and ruffle your hair on purpose, just to annoy you. Lately though, he’d taken to calling you things along the lines of ‘darling’ and ‘sweetheart’. You knew he didn’t mean anything by it but somehow, those got under your skin more than that old nickname ever did. A few weeks ago, he’d called you his “best girl” and it had made your stomach flip. You didn’t want to be one of his girls. They tended to have a short shelf life and you had known Bucky for a long time.

“Gotta do something, can’t just sit on my ass and wish for the house to magically clean itself,” you grumbled.

Bucky chuckled and pulled something out of his trouser pocket.

“Here you go, before I forget. Becca said to give it to ya’.”

Taking the piece of paper from between his outstretched fingers, you unfolded it and smiled.

“What is it?” he asked, scratching behind an ear.

“It’s the recipe for that coconut cake she made the other month, you remember?”

Bucky licked his lips and rubbed his stomach lazily.

“You mean the one she made on Mom’s birthday?” he wiggled his eyebrows, extracting a laugh out of you.

“Yeah, that’s the one. I asked her for it, thought I’d try my hand at it.”

You picked up the cleaning supplies and went to put them in the cupboard next to the kitchen.

“I dunno, I really like that chocolate pie you make, angel. If you never cooked another damn thing in your life, I’d be happy to eat just that.”

You giggled.

“You’d be happy to eat a pile o’ hay if I told you I was givin’ you free food, Bucks. Don’t know where you get that appetite from.”

You heard him snicker from behind as you arranged the mops.

“Don’t sass me, kid. A man’s gotta eat.”

You rolled your eyes. You were barely three years younger than him but that’s all he ever saw you as. Some annoying infant.

As you hunched down to stow away the cleaning liquids, a painful reminder shot through the muscles of your lower abdomen. You groaned and clutched the cupboard door.

“Hey, Y/N, you need any help?”

You took a deep breath and got up.

“Nah. All done.”

Shutting the cupboard, you moved to the kitchen, avoiding looking in his direction.

“You're sure I can’t get you anything?” you asked out loud.

“I’m fine,” he called back from his seat and you heard the newspaper rustling open.

Nodding absentmindedly, you put on a pot of water as the dull throbbing continued inside of you. You decided maybe you could make some honeyed tea to soothe your aching body.

Just as you went to grab the honey pot, a particularly vicious stab to the gut made you double over with a gasp and grip the counter hard.

Closing your eyes, you slowly exhaled, knuckles turning white against the scrubbed tile. If the pain was this bad before your period had even started, you wondered how you were going to survive the week. You couldn’t feel anything wet between your legs but the discomfort was still there, an undeniable pressure sitting in your gut.

For a moment, you forgot there was someone else in the house.

“Y/N, you alright?”

You looked up to find Bucky standing a few paces away, concern laced through his pert features.

You nodded, not really trusting yourself to speak much.

“M’fine.”

A hand came up to rub the small of your back and you tried not to lean into his touch.

“You don’t look fine, dove. Are you sick?”

I’m gonna be if you keep calling me that, you thought weakly.

“Yeah,” you took a deep breath and turned off the stove. “Hey, umm, you mind waiting by yourself? My stomach’s a little queasy, must be something I ate for breakfast.”

Liar. You’d only had a slice of bread and some water for breakfast, but he didn’t need to know that.

“I’m just gonna go lie down for a minute...”

Avoiding him entirely, you walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs to Steve’s room. It was small and messy but it was your favorite place in the house. You got under the sheets and pulled them tight around yourself, willing the twisting feeling inside your body to go away.

A couple minutes passed before you heard shuffling at the door and then Bucky’s soft voice somewhere above you.

“Y/N…”

You pushed your face further into the sheets, too embarrassed to look at him.

“Hey, scoot over, sweetheart.”

You groaned and cracked open one eye, sliding over to the other side.

You felt the mattress dip as he settled beside you. Careful not to touch you, Bucky peeled back the blanket and pressed something damp and wet against your lower abdomen. The sensation made you sigh and you relaxed into the mattress.

“You left the water in the pot so...” he spoke softly, covering you back up, his free hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’ll make you feel better.”

You bit your lip and swallowed.

“How’d you know?”

Your mother always told you it was unlady-like to let anyone discover when you were experiencing your bleeding cycle. Even though you lived in a small house, your brother Steve didn’t know this was something women went through until you started having particularly painful and heavy bleeding after hitting your late teens. Sometimes you would get dizzy and feel so weak, you couldn’t even leave the bed and you would miss school. Which was a big deal. You never skipped classes. Since then, he always watched out for you, even helping you clean the sheets on the really bad days behind Ma’s back and always stashing extra medicine in case you needed it for the pain.

Bucky laughed under his breath.

“I got a sister too, don’t I?”

You moaned as another wave of pain passed through you but the warmth of the damp towel helped ease the discomfort. Bucky continued to stroke the crown of your head and coo reassuringly, as you shifted in bed, trying to stretch out your sore muscles.

“I’m sorry...it just hurts,” you apologized, eyes watering, cheeks flushed in shame.

Bucky shook his head and pressed his fingers to your temple.

“Hey, no, you got nothin’ to be sorry for.”

He was talking to you like one would to a wounded animal but it was oddly comforting.

“I know it hurts but I’m right here, alright? I got you. You need anything, you name it, princess. I am your humble servant.”

He said the last bit with a mock bow of his head, making you snigger in spite of the awkward situation you found yourself to be in.

Moving a hand to cover the one he was using to press the make-shift hot water bottle to your aching muscles, you gave him the sweetest smile you could muster.

“Thank you,” you breathed softly, hoping to convey the gratitude you felt in that moment. He could easily have been grossed out by your situation but he’d stayed to help. You would never admit this to him out loud, but this was your favorite side of Bucky Barnes. Charming and kind.

Pink tinging his cheeks, you saw Bucky glance away before he caught sight of the dog-eared book resting on the table in the corner. A teasing smile worked its way onto his pillowy lips.

“Y’know,” he smirked down at you. “You could always repay me by returning my book.”

It was a new mystery novel that had come out a few weeks ago. Bucky had finished it in two days. You didn’t have enough pocket money saved to get your own copy so you’d borrowed his but had yet to finish it. Even though the plot was gripping, you felt like the characters kept doing the opposite of what they should to catch the actual murderer. You would get so angry every time it happened, you had to put the book down and just take a deep breath and not scream.

Gaze shifting between his eyes and the book, you squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“I’m almost done. It’s all yours after that.”

Bucky’s eyes shined mischievously, tongue darting between his lips.

“Did you get to the part where the girl spots the bloody shirt…?”

You narrowed your eyes at him in warning.

“Bucky.....”

“...and then the detective pulls out the…”

“James Barnes, I swear on Jesus, if you spoil-”

The sound of footsteps stomping on the porch downstairs made you both freeze mid-conversation.

Your eyes suddenly widened at Bucky but he placed a finger against his lips.

“Stay put, little dove. I’ll tell Sarah you fell asleep and I let myself in.”

Your heart fluttered at the pet name but then you frowned at him.

“How would you do that?” you whispered to him as he moved off the bed.

Bucky shrugged.

“With the spare key Steve gave me.”

“You have a spare key?” you hissed at him, gripping his hand in yours.

You could hear Ma working the lock on the door, her voice muffled as she said something to Steve.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at you expectantly.

“Then why do you bother knocking at all?” you asked.

His shoulders heaved in a silent laugh.

“Cos it’s the polite thing to do, dove.”

You pouted up at him, letting go of his hand.

Suddenly, he bent down, surprising you as you felt a soft pressure against the side of your forehead, eyes involuntarily falling shut.

“Feel better soon, a’ight?” his lips murmured against your hair.

You heard the key click in place downstairs, the door rattling on its hinges as your family returned.

You opened your eyes and peered into Bucky’s corn-blue orbs.

“And finish the damn book, will ya?" he whispered. "I’m itchin’ to talk about the real killer with my best girl.”

Flashing one last dazzling smile, he disappeared out the doorway.

Your fingers tentatively grazed along the tingling skin of your forehead, face hot, a ridiculous grin forming on your lips.

Maybe you didn’t mind being his girl too much after all.

Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier + eyes

BUCKY BARNES 1.06 The Whole World Is Watching

“Those steel blue eyes let you know where home is. You know what I’m talking about. That’s my safe space. In those beautiful eyes.” - Anthony Mackie