Different oneshots between Marvel Cinematic Universe's Bucky Barnes X Y/n (Female Reader) Most of them are an alternative universe, so doesn't match the mcu Storyline, some do, some don't, some oneshots are big, most are average sized or small, (In...
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Title: "About time."
Summary: Taking the friendship to a next level.
The mission was simple, or at least it should have been. Recon, gather intelligence, report back. But, as always, things got complicated.
Y/N stood with crossed arms, her sharp eyes flicking over the map laid out on the table. Beside her, Bucky Barnes-silent, brooding, the former Winter Soldier. They had been friends for years, both Hydra assassins forced to endure the horrors of mind control, until they were both freed and recruited by the Avengers. But freedom had come with its own set of challenges, one of which was the tension between them. Unspoken, undeniable, but ever-present.
"We're stuck here for the night," Bucky said, breaking the silence. "Storm's rolling in. No way out."
Y/N raised an eyebrow. "And the fact that there's only one bed doesn't bother you?"
Bucky glanced over at the bed in question, the one that looked far too small for the two of them. His lips twitched, almost a smirk, but he kept his composure. "We've been through worse."
Y/N huffed, a laugh buried in her throat. "Sure, but we've never had to share a bed."
For a moment, there was silence between them, thick and heavy with all the things left unsaid. They had been partners for so long, and somewhere along the way, something deeper had formed between them. Glances that lasted too long, touches that lingered. But neither of them had ever crossed the line, afraid of what it might mean if they did.
Bucky's blue eyes flicked over to her, his voice low. "You're right, we haven't. But maybe it's time we stopped pretending."
Y/N's heart skipped a beat. She looked up, meeting his gaze, searching for some sign that he was joking. But there was nothing lighthearted in his expression. Bucky was serious. The air between them crackled with the same intensity that had been building for months.
Her voice was quiet when she spoke. "And what are we pretending, exactly?"
Bucky took a step closer, closing the distance between them. The warmth of his body was intoxicating, and for the first time, Y/N felt herself wavering, her resolve slipping.
"That this," Bucky gestured between them, "hasn't been there all along. That we don't both want this."
Y/N swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She'd always been able to hide her feelings, to bury them deep. They were assassins, after all-trained to suppress everything, to never let emotion cloud their judgment. But now, in the quiet of the small safehouse, with the storm raging outside, it felt like the perfect storm was brewing between them too.
Her lips parted, but before she could respond, Bucky moved. His hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek, and then his lips were on hers-soft but urgent, like he had been holding back for far too long. The kiss was a release, the culmination of years of tension and longing.
Y/N responded instantly, her hands gripping the front of his shirt as she kissed him back, pouring every unspoken word into the moment. It felt like the world had stopped, like nothing else existed but the two of them.
When they finally pulled apart, both breathing hard, Bucky rested his forehead against hers. "About time," he muttered, his voice thick with emotion.
Y/N chuckled softly, her fingers still gripping his shirt. "Yeah. About time."
Neither of them knew what tomorrow would bring, or what the mission would hold. But for now, in the quiet of the night, with the storm raging outside, they had crossed the line. And there was no going back.
