Bucky X Plum

So you make Sam Winchester drink demon blood. But where's the brotherly parallel? Where's the goodie counterpart? Why not the blonde brother sucking some grace out of, oh I don't know, his best friend angel. Why.

Soft

Random thought that I thought was adorable. 

Bored Bucky. 

Everyone sat around the conference room listening to Fury hand out mission assignments. It was rare for him to make an appearance but the latest assignment was a serious one and he expected all avengers present. 

Steve and Tony sat near the front making note of who should be paired with who and action plans. Nat, Clint, Sam and Thor listened attentively, making mental notes of what to pack and mission tactics. 

Bucky yawned. 

He was unbothered. He’d heard worse, seen worse, felt worse. His mind was other places. 

Where did all the dunkaroos go…that fatass Sam probably ate them all. 

Why did was the ice cream machine at McDonalds always broken…also probably Sam’s fault some how. 

What was tik tok and why did Peter keep refencing it

Should he make Instagram?

What would he even have as a username

JBB, no, too short. 

James Buchanan Barnes. No, too long.

James White Wolf Barnes. Nope.

White Wolf the Howling Commando…..sounded like a fucking porn star what the hell was wrong with him. 

Never mind. 

The hamster in his brain continued to lazily trudge around while his eyes fell on your hair. You were sitting in front of him, jotting down some notes for what you had to do, all your attention focused on the meeting. Your hair was like a silky water fall, cascading down the back of the chair. 

Bucky couldn’t help himself, reaching out and playing with the soft strands, humming contently. You hadn’t even noticed, barely feeling him paw at your hair, combing his fingers through. 

Bucky smiled to himself, your hair felt so nice. Soft. Smelled like sweet shampoo. He loved how lush it felt as he sectioned a bit of your hair to fiddle with, twisting and playing with the strand, careful not to get it caught around his mental fingers. It was almost calming in a way, almost like petting a kitten-

“Sergeant Barnes are you braiding Agent y/l/n’s hair?!” 

Fury’s face scrunched up, stopping the meeting, looking across the table to where Bucky’s attention was focused. His eyes shot up, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks while Steve and Sam snickered, the rest of the team smirking at him. 

“I-

You bit back a giggle, turning around to see a flustered super soldier looking back at you, his puppy eyes wide, dropping the strand of hair and retreating his hands into his lap. 

“I must say, James braids hair beautifully” Thor smiled, admiring the braid Bucky had done in your hair before proudly looking at his own, the blond strands neatly plaited and tucked behind his ear. 

“If you’re done playing hair dresser, can we focus on the meeting” He gave Bucky a pointed look before continuing. “As I was saying…”

“Sergeant, you’ll be at the east side, with Captain Rogers, Stark, you’ll be with Wilson, I need eyes from on top of the base”

Everyone hummed in agreement, making note of their positions. Except Bucky. 

“Sergeant”

No reply. 

“Sergeant” 

“BARNES”

Fury turned around, having not heard a reply from Bucky yet, just to find him with his hands in your hair again, practically kneading his hands in and purring like a cat. 

“Mother f-

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Crack drabble, imagine after Bucky gets healed from Wakanda and all that, he moves into the compound with everyone else. Life is honestly pretty good. Except one thing. At first he was going to just leave it but the more he thinks about it, the more its settled.

He's going to do it.

It's the one thing he really misses and its risky given how big the compound is, would Tony really even notice if there was a little 4 legged friend running around? Technically there wasn't a no pets policy in place anyway and it wasn't that different from a dog...not really.

One secret mission and 2 half eaten Henley's later

It wasn't easy. Bucky had to make 3 excuses that were only semi believable when he left and that was the easy part. The hard part was after he returned. Bucky groaned, stepping off the jet seeing that everyone was home, not a single person away for a mission to make his job easier.

"You better be quiet or we'll both get caught" Bucky hissed to his friend who was stuffed into a giant duffle tucked under his arm. He sped right through the living room without giving anyone a second glance, breathing a sigh of relief once he got to his room. He let his friend out, who didn't waste a second skipping over to the bed and hopping on, curling up onto a pillow. "Just like old times, huh" Bucky snorted before showering and going to bed himself.

Of course it was only going to be a matter of time before his secret came to light. Which happened to be the very next day when the stealthy super soldier when down with his new pet for a snack around midnight, his eye growing wide when Sam, Steve and Tony were also munching by the kitchen island.

"What the hell"

"Barnes..."

"Yes?" Bucky blinked innocently as if his friend hadn't made his way over to chew Steve's shorts.

"Is-is that a-

"BAAAA" the little goat blinked up at Tony before slowly walking up to him, letting his head bump against his hand.

"Aww, he likes you" Bucky smiled like a proud parent while the other three men stared at him in disbelief. It didn't take long for Sam to cave, scratching him behind the ears and cooing at him.

"Where did you get a goat"

"Wakanda"

"Oh- wait- YOU STOLE A GOAT FROM WAKANDA??!"

when destiel goes canon this thursday then you’ll all see

hey what if I held you really fucking close as we rocked back and forth because we're covered in bruises, wounds and knives??? what then??? what if we reenacted hannibal's wrath of the lamb's cliff scene WHAT THEN???

flustered- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader warnings: very flustered reader, not sure if i exaggerated it too much but i think i did im so sorry about: requested by the lovely stefi!! flustered reader basically lol

it’s one of those nice kind of days—where the sky is leadened with gloomy cotton balls and the heat of the sun is muted. the grass beneath you is fresh and smells of petrichor in anticipation of the rain, already cold between your fingers and needling through your jeans.

a breeze flutters your lashes, urging your eyes open and your hands to splay like a starfish into the ground. something else pricks at your skin, pulling your eyebrows together.

“hey,” someone says behind you. bucky, you realize.

“hi,” you respond automatically, lolling your head back to catch sight of him. he’s tall and solid and upside down when you blink up at him, eyes just as piercing as they observe you.

“it’s gonna rain,” he informs, stepping over to stand next to you. “y’gonna come back inside?”

“no,” you answer definitively, staring back up at the sky. “maybe when the lightning starts.”

“lightning?” he repeats, grunting when he lowers himself gracefully onto the ground. his knee pokes into your thigh, but he doesn’t move it away.

you go still, concentrating on not shifting weirdly. “it’s pretty, but it makes me nervous.”

“what if i stay out here with you?” he offers.

“what are you going to do against lightning?” you ask, laughing. “maybe if it were thor—”

his own laughter is rough, genuine. lightly, he nudges your shoulder. “punk.”

you grin, a little pleased and a little flustered. “what?”

“i’m offering my protection. super-soldier protection.”

“oh, i’m sorry,” you apologize. “i didn’t realize you guys could control weather.”

“you are…” bucky begins, searching for a word. “incorrigible,” he finishes, teasing.

you bark out a laugh, meeting his eyes. “incorrigible!”

he nods. “‘s okay, though. it’s part of your charm.”

bucky turns to observe your profile, silently scanning your features. your thumbnail goes to trace the nailbed of your index.

you clear your throat, watching the clouds as they roll in the sky. “thank you,” you reply. it comes out a little strangled.

bucky clearly hears it, but his eyes crinkle. he hums. “s’my pleasure. i get to talk to you and see you, y’know, be impossible.”

you nod, not sure when to stop. you’re still stuck on his previous compliment, like a thread caught on a hook and you can’t help but pull, let your sweater unravel green and greedy and coarse.

“i didn’t know that was a charm,” you start unsurely. “or that i had charms, more like.” it’s not smoothly said, a little halted in that you want to explain further, only encouraged to by the chaste curve of his lips, amused and patiently heartening. you urge him to silence you. “or charm? is it just charm, singular? i think of charms more like the bracelet things, but charm could encapsulate the entirety of the—” you crane your fingers and move your hands as if they’re cupping something large. “the idea. which i guess is what you mean and it implies a lot more than one, right?”

you’re rambling, you know.

bucky is grinning, though, purely amused and bastardly pleased. he nods along to your words as if he’s listening closely to each rise in your voice, paying attention to each word.

you clear your throat and attempt to relax your tense shoulders. you’re not uncomfortable, you remind yourself. your anxiety carries none of the unpleasantness associated with it, instead something so largely gracious and massively salubrious that it makes you slightly ditzy, spilling out like honey and sneaking into the cogs of your brain.

it makes the wheels stagger and slow, your mind lagging to dig up something more to say. so, you say: “i bet you were really charming back then. you know, because you were so popular? like steve and everyone says.”

bucky chuckles. “were, huh?”

you know he’s teasing. he’s only ever teasing, but you stammer to take it back. “are! are real charming! really charming. i mean—i meant that it was just, like, a lot back then. not that it isn’t anymore, just… just different?” you have to explain, having piqued his actual interest. “back then, it was smoother? from the way people talk about you, i can’t imagine it wasn’t something automatic. now it’s, it’s more deliberate, i think.”

you’ve been talking for so long.

“but, obviously it still works, right?”

he smiles something small, crinkling the edges of his eyes lightly and mischievously as if he’s caught you in something. “why do you say that?”

you shake your head as you look for a response. “uh…”

bucky decides to take pity on you, moving away from the topic to stretch his torso. a sliver of skin peeks from behind his shirt, gleaming and distracting as you try to look anywhere but there. you fail, obviously, your focus betraying you.

“you look real nice today, you know,” he says, a smidge more serious and totally sweeter.

you heat up immediately, ears burning as you squeeze the lobe between your thumb and index. “you too,” you force out, overwhelmed with the compliment, skin prickling with its genuity.

bucky observes you for a few seconds, eyes slow and deliberate as they take you in from a foot or so away, and then he settles a few inches closer.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, but he doesn’t really want to know, isn’t truly asking in the words’ definitions. there’s a pleased mask in his expression, hiding something flustered from your attention from your scrutiny.

you only blink and shrug, the weight of his gaze increasing with every second he stares. the blue of his irises has always been gentle in a sharp way, deep and crushing and grand like the ocean. warm and comforting like the sun that it reflects.

you swallow when he leans in, close enough for you to be sure he’s being entertained by how flustered he’s making you. you can’t think, you realize after a blank moment, mind crowded with the way his fresh scent interrupts the petrichor.

he’s smiling when he finally pauses in front of your face, nose nearly brushing against yours close, close enough that you can see the stars in his eyes and count each charcoal lash.

"you know you don't have to be so nervous around me?" he whispers.

you shiver, unable to help yourself as you dig teeth into your lips and your attention flickers to his.

they twist up when they notice, only crawling further when you choke out an affirmation. “yeah, yeah. i’m not—”

your reply dies on your tongue when he swoops in, noses nudging when he kisses you. your eyes stay wide open for a moment before they flutter shut, your body frozen before it melts inevitably, slackening into him. one of his hands moves to hold your waist, lips smiling beneath yours as he pulls away.

you swallow, attempting to blot away the haze his kiss has glossed over your mind. his grin isn’t helping, blinding you and chasing away the breath that kisses your lungs.

“i’m not nervous,” you finally force out. “you’re just—just really—”

“i’m really?” he urges.

you frown. “mean,” you finish.

he laughs, and you’re dizzy again.

y’all know i’m right

Dean: *unconscious*

Cas: Sam! Dean’s not breathing!

Dean: *wakes up, slowly sits up*

Cas, who’s not looking: I have to give him mouth-to-mouth

Dean: …

Dean: *lays back down*

early seasons Castiel, warrior of god, unfeeling, unemotional, cold as a block of marble etc. etc., Mr Angel you are fooling exactly no-one, we all saw in s04e03 In the Beginning that you gently clasped Dean’s shoulder to bring him back to the future, you literally had no reason for a supportive gesture like that…. a bare fingertip on his arm would have been enough, but no

totally not sympathizing with the distressed human

seriously who gave u 2 the right to look at each other like at the last lifeline in the storm, you met like twice 😭

Frank Castle deserves to be treated right dammit