Bucky Barnes One Shots

Hate Hurts the Hater

"What are you doing here?" Bucky turned around quickly when you entered the jet.

"Good morning to you too." You replied with a roll of your eyes. You sat on the seat next to him and started to skim over your file.

"I told you to stay at the compound." He bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

"Yeah, and I told you I don't need your permission."

He groaned inwardly and your jaw clenched. You threw the file on the seat next to yours and turned your head to look at him. His eyes were still cast down, avoiding you at all cost.

"What is your problem?" You asked curtly. When he opened his mouth you knew it was to grumble a 'I don't have a problem' so you cut him off before he could speak. "What? You don't think I can do it?"

"It's not like that." He took a deep breath. "I have a bad feeling."

"You always have a bad feeling." You threw your arms up in the air in exasperation and took a good look at him.

As usual his face remained blank, allowing no emotion no seep through. Normally, you were pretty good at reading people, but Bucky Barnes was a mystery. You had no idea what was going through that thick skull of his and it was driving you crazy.

Yes, Bucky annoyed you. You hated the way he remained calm during your arguments, it made you shout even louder. You hated that he made you throw punches until you were on the verge of passing out. You hated that he kept stealing your toothpaste, that he cheated at poker, that his eyes were so blue, that his shirt smelled so good, that his perfume lingered in the air, even after he left.

Yeah, no, you totally hated him.

It was your heart that raced every time he was near, but you were completely fine. It was your mind that wondered what his lips would taste like, but you were completely fine. It was you knees that buckled each time he smiled, but you were completely fine.

Bucky took a deep breath, he had to find a way out of the mess he was in. His stomach fluttered at the smell of your shampoo. He looked at you, reading your file, looking all grumpy and mad. He desperately wanted to bury his face in your hair and kiss your neck until he was drunk from it. He wanted to hear you laugh more than anything.

"You washed your hair?" Bucky tried to change the subject, but his voice came out sharp with bitterness and he cringed.

"Do you really have to say it like that?" You replied without looking up from the file.

"Like what?" The words came out before he could think them through.

"Like it's such a feat."

"You're exaggerating." God why can't I just shut my goddamn mouth, he thought immediately.

"And you're a tool." You stood up and sat at the other end of the jet.

Pinpoint accurate, Bucky wanted to say. I am the dumbest person on the planet, but I'd rather be a jerk than see you get hurt. But he just stayed silent. He always did.

He tried everything to make you stay at the compound. He knew it wasn't fair, it was your job, but he didn't care.

The mission was supposed to be simple. You had to keep an eye on the target while Bucky sneaked into his house to get vital documents. Easy peasy.

Well, in theory...

You put a hand to your ear and connected the earpiece. "The target is coming back. Get out."