[ a collection of oneshots written for bucky barnes ]
all my works can also be found on ao3 which is peachyelena <33
all my works are intended for those 18+ regardless of their content. minors dni.
summary || in which you're in love with bucky barnes but you don't know how to say it
warnings || fluff, like lowkey explicit language, mentions violence but no violent acts actually get committed.
prompt || "can we get coffee?" "is this a date or is it because you'll end up strangling someone if you don't get caffeine in your system." "i shouldn't have asked." and college!au for my besties 400 follower writing challenge. love u malia <3 prompt is italicized and bolded . this challenge can be found on tumblr @ tinymalscoffee.
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You were two hours into a twenty-four hour cram session for three upcoming finals, and you had already consumed around a litre of iced coffee. You knew that this was the recipe for disaster, but you were too tired and too focused to care.
It was a Saturday, the library was busier than you expected, but you had found yourself a tranquil space in between two unused shelves – shelves with books old and unused, dust collecting in between pages. Spines standing strong with years of disuse.
Not unlike your love life.
You had found this space on your first day of classes, and had visited it sporadically for two months. Only one other person would occasionally occupy the same space as you, a junior by the name of Bucky Barnes.
You knew Bucky, albeit not very well, but the two of you were close enough to study in the same space together. Despite there being a two-year age difference, you felt like you could trust him with your deepest, most darkest secret.
Through Bucky, you had also met a whole group of juniors: Sam, Natasha, and Wanda. You already knew Steve, and Carol. Steve was in an art club you frequented, and Carol was your RA and best friend.
"Hey, Y/n, are you busy?" You hadn't even notice Steve arrive, charcoal smudged onto his nose with a worn brown satchel containing art supplies slung over a muscled shoulder.
"Mmm, just studying." You smiled up at him, the initial shock wearing off. "Why?"
"Can I draw you as part of my art project? Everyone else is either not on campus, or they're hungover."
You weren't even surprised that most of the ragtag group of students were hungover. They all partied on Friday nights, all except Steve anyway. "You never have to ask if you can draw me, Stevie."
The two of you sat in blissful silence, the only sounds from your solace was Steve's charcoal pencil scratching along his paper. It was almost like only the two of you existed in that second, until Bucky came along. He never served to disrupt the study sessions, but he had taken it upon himself to check up on you every so often. Bucky soon learnt that you had an awful tendency to overwork yourself sometimes, and he absolutely did not want that to happen.
"Bought you some food, Y/N." Bucky smiled, crouching down to place a paper bag down. "Weren't sure what you wanted, so I just made sure to include the major food groups. How's the studying going?"
You took a second to finish highlighting your notes, "thanks. And it's going kind of okay. I'm like three hours into a 24 hour study sesh so my brain might implode by the end of it. But if I pass it'll be worth it."
"Make sure you take breaks every so often. You've got this, I believe in you." And with that, Bucky left and Steve couldn't help but send you a knowing smirk. You knew what Steve was going to say, but you wanted to beat him to it.
"Don't be dumb, Steve. Bucky isn't in love with me. He's just incredibly supportive." You looked back down at your book, before glancing over to the food Bucky had brought you. "He's not in love with me..."
Three days later, and you had stormed out of your last final with a sour look on your face. That one definitely had not gone well, and whilst the gang had invited you to an 'end of finals' party, you were in no mood to be around anyone so you sent an apologetic text to your group chat, and decided to wallow in your dorm.
But Bucky, dear sweet Bucky, was not letting you wallow alone. And that's how you found yourself staring down the man sitting on your floor. "Please, at least come say hi. You just smashed out three finals in two days. You deserve to celebrate."
"No. Not in the mood. Can we go get coffee instead?" You asked, hoping that Bucky would get the hint you were trying to ask him on a date.
"Is this a date? Or is it because you will end up strangling someone if you don't get caffeine into your system?" Bucky's eyes were narrowed, trying to wear you down into confessing it was a date.
"Shouldn't have asked." You climbed back into bed, burrowing yourself under the covers, completely ignoring the way Bucky called your name. You felt foolish for asking, really. He was out of your league, and you had absolutely no chance of ever being the person who gets to spend the rest of your life loving him.
It must have been forty minutes before Bucky said your name again, and as the smell of hot coffee filled the air, you peeked your head out of your covers to see Bucky standing there with two coffees. "You clearly weren't going to get coffee with me, so I bought our date to you."
"Bucky—"
But he cut you off, not letting you speak. "No, just wait please. Ever since we first met in our little hangout spot, you have literally become the most important person to me. I've been trying to figure out how to say this for so long now, but Y/N, will you go on a date with me?"
"Course I will, dumbass."
One date turned into seventeen dates. 17 dates turned into a relationship, and before you knew it, it was five years later and Bucky was down on one knee. "I've been trying to figure out how to say this, but Y/N, will you marry me?"