Bucky Barnes X Reader One-shots

Tiny dancer **Requested**

Credit to blam__blam_ for the suggestion: "can there be a one shot where like (this is stupid) bucky can secretly dance and so can the reader and bucky and the reader find each other dancing so they start dancing together and all the avengers find out and watch the reader and bucky slowdance" and credit to an amazing artist for drawing that fabulous Bucky, unfortunately I do not know who you are but hey ho, thank you for blessing us.

WARNING: Minor language I guess? Nothing serious that Steve would frown at ;)

Enjoy! xx

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"(y/n)?!" Steve's holler brings you back down to Earth.

"Yeah?" you answer back, as you finish doing the washing up.

"You okay staying here with Buck while we go to Washington for a quick mission?" he adjusts the strap of his helmet as you roll your eyes, you'd already been asked this question a million times and that was just this morning! You appreciated being reminded and kept up-to-date but this was a tad too much.

"Like I said the last hundred times Steve, I'll be fine. I promise." you add another soapy plate to the stack.

"Okay. Well, just check in on Bucky  at some point to make sure he's ok. Oh- and don't hesitate to call if there's any trouble at all, okay? Got to run, see you bye!-" words rapidly flew out of Steve's mouth after receiving a call from Tony, probably telling him to hurry his ass up. You found it sweet how he cared for Bucky, although you couldn't help but think that it might be suffocating them both. You mentally slap yourself. Stop that (y/n)! Stop being so negative!

After surveying your handiwork with the washing up you check the time. 10:20am. You had the whole day free, and the whole tower to yourself (well Bucky is here, but he always broods in his room so it's like he's not around). You could do WHATEVER you wanted. Instantly you run and grab paint and a large canvas (you'd be surprised what was just lying around the tower) and begin to sloppily paint, dipping your whole hand in the paint and slapping it messily onto the canvas, swirling and mixing in bold movements.

"Now, this is art!" you stand back to admire your work which looked just like an accident in a paint factory. Your mind races, there was so much to do, with so little time. You scurry to the sink to briskly wash your hands, you don't even bother to dry them before you run off again. You find yourself running into the direction of Sam's room. That bird-brained nit-wit had borrowed your favourite books and had flat-out refused to give them back, even when you threatened him with extreme force. Fortunately you locate them almost instantly.

"My precious." you do an awful Golem impression as you hug your books to your chest. You take a stroll back to your own apartment, inspecting the books for any damage. A small smile tugs its way onto your lips when you find they're in perfect condition. Carefully you place them in their rightful place; on your bookshelf. With your hands on your hips you stand triumphant until a small thought niggles away at you. What do you do next?

Your eyes scan your bedroom looking for a source of entertainment, when nothing creative came to your mind you settled for picking up your phone. You trawl through hundreds of Instagram photos and Snapchat stories, giggling when you hear Peter shout 'Yeet!' when he threw a box of cereal at a rather confused Thor this morning. 

A sudden realization sweeps over you; you could never blare out any music with the others in the tower (you found out the hard way when a certain red-headed assassin embedded twelve knives in your door). So why don't you do it now when no-one is around to judge you?