Multifandom Oneshots

Bucky Barnes x Reader

You walk into the coffee shop, no intentions of staying. When you see him, however, you can't resist ordering your latte and crepe "for here" instead of "to go." You take your sustenance for the next seven or so hours of your life and sit down across from none other than Bucky Barnes.
He looks up, startled, jumping to a defensive position. When he sees its you, he relaxes a little. "Oh. Hey." He smiles a genuine smile that Steve pointed out only exists when he's either with you or talking about you.
"Hey. What's up?"
"What's Microsoft?" He says from over his computer.
"A technology company. Computers and stuff. Like the one you're on now."
He closes the screen slightly to look at the logo. "Oh." He says, and closes it all the way. "Thank you."
"Gloves and a jacket. Very inconspicuous in ninety degree weather."
"And what else do you suggest I wear? A t-shirt? No."
"Bucky, sweetie--" You reach out to put your hand atop his.
"No." He withdraws his hand. It must have been the metal one you reached for, judging from the terrified look on his face.
"Bucky--"
"No."
"All right. Suit yourself."
"Thank you. I will."
"You needn't hide." You say gently.
"Have I mentioned I like your accent?" Bucky says with a wink. "I've always been partial to the English."
"Don't try to change the subject."
"I don't like to talk about it."
"I know. I just wish you wouldn't be scared to--"
"I'm not scared."
"All right." You shrug.
"What are you doing here?" He asks.
"Fueling up before I go flirt with somebody for information for Nick. What about you? Besides bumming off their wifi."
"Their what?"
"Internet connection."
"Oh." He said. Then, "I don't like when you do that." He says, looking down at his gloved hands that rest on his computer.
"When I do what?"
"Flirt with people."
"It's easier than torturing them, which is why you don't get sent on these errands." You smile and stand, shouldering your bag. "See you later."
"Hey, Y/N." He begins as you're walking away.
You turn around to see him still staring at his hands. "Yeah, Bucky?"
"Never mind. Have fun."
"Not likely."

You're sitting in your apartment that night reading over a profiling when there's a knock at your door. You grab a gun from your coffee table as you get up to answer it--you can never be too safe, especially in Brooklyn. You open it to see Bucky and you relax. "Oh, hey. Come on in." You smile and step aside.
He steps in and waits for you to lead the way. You put the gun back on the coffee table as you sit down, patting the space next to you.
"Expecting company?" Bucky asks, nodding at the gun and glancing around nervously.
"No. Just being careful." You shrug.
He shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over the arm off the couch before sitting where you had gestured to. You give a soft smile, glad he's gotten comfortable with you.
"Did you need something?" You ask.
"There's something you should know..."
"There's nothing I should know. All I want to know is what you want to tell."
"I don't want to tell anything."
"Then don't."
"But I need to tell you. I--I need to tell somebody. I have to tell you."
"Tell away."
"I remember everything." He says simply.
"Everything?" You question.
"Everything that happened while I was... Mind-controlled. Everything."
"Do you?" You can't imagine how painful that could be.
"I did some bad stuff..."
"You weren't yourself."
"I still did it."
"But it wasn't your fault."
"Remember that." He drops his gaze.
"All right." You say when he doesn't continue.
"I remember Stark's parents." He says. "I killed them."
He's not looking at you, but you try to keep your eyes from widening. "Does Tony know?"
"Yes."
"Okay."
"And... I remember... I... I killed your parents, Y/N." He raised his arms defensively over his face, his eyes closing.
"You killed my parents?" You repeat, almost numbly.
His eyes peek open, the expected blow not coming. "Yeah."
"All right."
"All right?" He lowers his arms. "That's it?"
"Yes. They weren't parents to me. They-- weren't nice."
"Did they hurt you?" His scared look turns protective.
"Yes. They did. But it's okay now."
"That's a bit of guilt off my conscience."
"Good." You smile a bit.
"Bucky?" You ask after a short while of silence.
"Yeah?" His voice his soft.
You look up at him, trying to figure out how to word what you want to say. You open your mouth to talk, but it doesn't happen.
"Y/N?" He almost whispers.
"Yeah, Bucky?"
"I think I love you."
That's what you'd been trying to say.
Seconds later, his lips are pressed to yours, his metal fingers twisted in your hair, his other hand cupping your face.
"Well." He says after he pulls away, pushing his hair from his face with a slightly shaking hand. "I feel better."