Work Text:
"No. Questions," Bucky had said to the rest of the Thunderbolts when he stepped through my doorway.
Sat on my sofa, I wasn't even surprised by the scene in front of me: delinquents that accidentally became superheros showed up at my apartment with no warning. Their faces and names, including Bucky’s, had been plastered on national TV today, announced as the "New Avengers" after the city had been swallowed up by darkness.. I simply raised an eyebrow with an amused look.
The woman whom I recognised as Yelena turned to Bucky with a perplexed face. "I'm sorry— Who is this?"
"Yeah, Barnes. Care to explain?" John Walker piped up, which made Ava Starr and Alexi Shotsakov join in.
One thing led to another, and Bucky raised his voice to try to calm them. They clamoured like ducks quacking, demanding answers whilst a Bob stood quietly aside watching Ava and Yelena yelling at each other, and Walker talking about how honesty should be practised between teammates, as Alexi's booming voice got even more animated—
"James,” I finally spoke.
James. Not ‘Bucky’, not ‘Buck’, not even ‘Barnes’.
James.
They all froze, mouths agape.
"Hold up. Did she just—" Yelena sputtered.
Bob's eyebrows shot up fast.
Ava hummed skeptically.
Alexi smirked.
Walker muttered “oh shit”.
Because they know what happens when you call Bucky by his legal first name.
I stood behind him. He turned. “Y/N, I'm sorry, I can explain—”
I pulled him into a kiss, full of hunger and maybe what you'd call frustration (he had been gone for too long). My fists bunched in his shirt as he slid his arm around my waist. His breath hitched and he reciprocated my own eagerness, as he kissed like his life depended on it. His lips almost pathetically chased mine as I pulled away. He looked absolutely dazed. Beyond the point of return. His mind was launched into the stratosphere, surely. I smirked. He licked his lips as his ears turned red gradually. Victory.
“Y/N,” he croaked, swallowing like there's sandpaper at his throat.
“What? Can't I say hello?”
Bucky huffed, shaking his head. “You're ridiculous.”
“Yet you showed up.”
He just looked at me with his half-lidded eyes and hugged me closer, burying his face in my neck.
John cleared his throat violently. Bucky reluctantly stepped away from my grip.
Here we go. He sighed deeply and started. “This,” he placed a hand on my waist protectively, “is Y/N. My wife.”
I smiled sweetly and waved, a perfect picture of innocence as if I hadn't just made out with the man beside me in front of 4 superpowered criminals on the run.
A moment of silence passed. They stared like deers in a headlight.
“You're married?!” They shouted simultaneously.
We both nodded.
“You're pranking us.” Ava accused.
Yelena scanned Bucky up and down. “You. Have a wife.”
“Hey. Watch it, Lena.” Bucky retorted.
“Is she an undercover spy?” Bob tentatively asked.
Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose like a disappointed mother. I nudged Bucky, and he slowly pulled out the pendant under his collar, where it is usually hidden.
It's our marriage band— a silver ring with our initials and the date engraved on the outside. One is sat atop Bucky’s chest and the other matching one is sat currently on my left hand.
Despite this proof, they all still looked skeptical.
“That's fake.” John declared.
“You're kidding.” Ava chimed in.
The outlier, of course, was Alexi. He cheered; it was so loud it almost shattered the windows: “HYDRA SUPER SOLDIER FINDS LOVE! HOW HARDENING!”
“It's ‘heartening', dad. H-E-A-R-T-E-N-I-N-G. With a ‘T’!"
Bucky just groaned. Is this what I have to deal with for the rest of my life?
Unfortunately, yes. Apparently Bucky is now in charge of this group of people. His whole life of training didn't prepare him for this. Not fair.
“Woop woop. You got us there. Har har. Ohh-kay. Are we done? Can we leave and actually find a place to stay now?” Walker complained.
“This is the place I mentioned, John.”
Because the Thunderbolts were unexpectedly made a team, their arrangement in the old Avengers Tower was not going to be sorted for a while (Valentina had the aftermath of the spontaneous announcement of the New Avengers to sort out first, plus the Tower needed to be refurbished). They had no choice but to stay here. It really was a ‘take it or leave it’ situation.
The team eventually settled in that night, had their showers and dinners, and were now debriefing. Debriefing, if that's the word for pointlessly arguing and blaming each other for things like stealing the last bite of leftover pizza. Whilst they were still biting each other's heads off, I slinked into the messy living room and took Bucky by his arm.
•~☆~•
“Sit, Buck.” He sat on the counter reluctantly.
“M'fine.”
“You're not.”
“I am.” He retorted defensively.
He always pretended to be fine. He'd say he was okay even with a gaping cut along his rib from sharp metal, or bruises from falls, or a busted lip.
But he knows I'd never let him off.
“Bucky.”
“I'm okay.”
“Buck.”
“No.”
“James.”
He sighed and looked at me. “Fine,” he whined, “you know that's not fair and you still use that, Mrs Barnes.” He pointed a finger at me, teasing despite his exhaustion.
“Never said I played fair, Mr Barnes.” I grinned triumphantly.
“Touché,” he smiled as he peeled off his shirt, carefully revealing the bullet graze on his waist and angry bruises along his skin.
I wasn't unfamiliar with this, so I quickly gathered the tools and started disinfecting his wounds. I stood between his knees, my legs touching the cupboard below the marble.
His hands slyly snaked around my waist and lingered at the hips.
“Bucky,” I warned, but I still held his chin gently to tilt his head so I could access the scratch on his jaw, “Stay. Still.”
His gaze locked onto mine. Gosh, he's infuriating, “y’can't blame me, sweetheart. You're too close.”
I rolled my eyes as I dabbed the cotton on his skin, and he winced slightly.
“Stop staring at me like that or I'll press harder.”
“Hm.”
“I mean it.”
He gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Buck.” my voice wavered.
“Yes, ma'am?” (He smirked. Bastard.)
“Stop.”
“Stop what?” He leaned closer.
“That. Behave.”
“Or what?” His voice was like velvet and deep, it sent a shiver down my spine.
“Seriously. I'm trying to patch you up, James. Stop messing around.”
“But if I did stop, you wouldn't hold me like this and call me James.” My eyes flickered to my hand. It had moved to cup his jaw without myself realising.
I tried to pull away, but his hand wrapped around my wrist, “I didn't say you shouldn't.”
“What should I do then?”
“What do you think?” His eys flickered to my mouth. He leaned so close I could feel his breath on my cheek.
“Eyes up here.” But my own betrayed me. I watched his tongue drag a path on his lips.
“No.” He pulled me closer, finally meeting his lips with mine. Savouring each movement and second, he kissed me, not hard like I had expected, but slowly and sweetly.
My arms wrapped around his shoulder and neck as I pressed closer carefully, wary of his injuries.
“I thought you said you were gonna focus.” Bucky mumbled against my lips, smirking.
“Shh. Let me have this.” And so he did, kissing me deeper and closer, and allowed me to draw a sound out of him when I dragged my nails on his scalp.
•~☆~•
Meanwhile, in the living room, the New Avengerz (STRICTLY with a ‘z') had finally begun to notice the absence of one specific broody man.
“Hold up— where'd Barnes go?” Yelena looked up from her (my) tub of vanilla ice cream mid-scoop.
The team turned their heads to the hallway and the rest of the room— no sign of the metal armed ex-soldier.
“Is this another prank?” John groaned.
“He might have just gone to the loo, no?” Ava suggested.
“And Y/N too?” Yelena noticed.
From the bathroom, I heard everything they were saying. Somehow, they have concluded that I have taken Bucky to brutally murder and dismember him.
“Can we hide here?” I whispered.
“Yeah. Can you believe this is what I've had to deal with every day?” He spoke lowly.
He continued peppering small kisses along my jaw, sometimes dragging his nose along my neck. I chuckled and his arms wound tightly around me.
“How about you let me use my shield instead of standing in the way, Ava?” The Thunderbolts’ voices rang from the other side of the locked door. Specifically, Walkers's, which sounded agitated and urgent.
“The taco shield? Right. Because that's totally sensible.” Ava remarked.
“Oh, shut up. Why don't you phase into their bathroom instead?” Walker shot back.
“But what if she was telling the truth?” Bob cut in, voice small.
“I am just checking she was, and that's why I'm doing this, Bobert.” John slowly wound his arm up with the deformed shield, ready to strike the door lock—
“What are you doing?” I deadpanned.
“Where's Bucky?”
I raised an eyebrow and stepped to the side. Bucky, of course, was perfectly fine.
“Did you just try to break into my own bathroom?” Bucky was unimpressed.
“Well we thought you'd be dead!”
“And why would I be?”
“Because she could be an assassin sent by an enemy who is just finding an opportunity to kill you!”
I sniggered quietly, watching this scene unfold.
He rubbed his temples. “Just- just go clean up the kitchen and get some rest. I'm alive and fine.”
John glanced at Yelena and Ava beside him, and decided to investigate this another day. The enemy is right beside Bucky, and she could have weapons hidden in the bathroom. Them being outside has a disadvantage. Therefore, they came to a conclusion of observing longer first.
•~☆~•
Unsurprisingly, privacy was definitely not a thing with Thunderbolts.
For the rest of the week, the team sneaked around and observed whenever it was just me and Bucky alone.
You'd think they'd be good at stealth, given that's their job and that they've trained for this. But no. They're about as subtle as a fire alarm. Bucky’s arm around my shoulder during movie night? That was a risk which required Ava to sit less than a meter away from me. A coffee made for Bucky in the mornings? That had to be tested for poison with lab testing kits. John stared when Bucky kissed my cheek in passing. Even Yelena interrogated us when we walked out of the room together.
Suspicion only reduced slightly after a long week of unsuccessful observations. They started accepting our dynamics, though very slowly. (Given how hard it is to believe that this emotionally stunted super soldier has found a partner and even married her.) Maybe it's the way his eyes crinkled when I walked into the room, or my toothbrush next to his near the sink, or the fact that he'd do anything I asked him with no hesitation (usually he'd grumble at something as small as passing Walker the salt).
And after seeing Bucky rub my feet on his lap as I read, they discussed in their super secret, definitely not obvious team meetings that perhaps I was just waiting for a chance to activate my plan without them knowing in order to successfully murder Bucky. Still not 100% sure I am his wife.
“Why do you act like this with Y/N?” Yelena interrogated one day. She leaned against the counter as Bucky made coffee for the both of us.
“Like what?”
“You do anything she asks you to. You get her shoes before she has gotten ready. You smile like a kid on Christmas Day whenever she's in the room. She doesn't even have to look at you and you'd still grin! Like a puppy!”
“I don't see anything wrong with that.”
“No, that's not what I'm saying. You're just— weird around her.” Yelena defended, gesturing animatedly. “What did she do to you?”
“Nothing.” Bucky shrugged.
“Then why are you like this?” It's true. The Bucky around me was not the Bucky they've known.
“I love her.” He simply said.
“And?” Yelena prodded.
“She can be terrifying.” Bucky admitted.
“Ah ha! So you're threatened to act like this!” Yelena thought she'd found the reason to justify her and her team's initial skepticism.
“Nope. She's hotter when she terrifies me.” He almost looked proud.
We had gone on a date at a small coffee shop. Unfortunately, one of the machines broke down. Fortunately, Bucky knew how to twist a few screws, especially with his metal hand. He quickly turned a few loose screws which fixed it temporarily before the handyman came. The owner — a younger woman in her 30s, had recognised Bucky, and thanked him with a wink and free drink. And her number on the cup, too.
So when Bucky trudged into the kitchen the next morning for a coffee, he found me leaning against the counter, drinking my own cup of coffee whilst what once was his coffee machine had now become disassembled individual parts, all neatly scattered on the countertops. I stared at his shocked face, humming like this was completely normal. He just looked at me with a chuckle and said “God, I love you.” in awe and kissed me until we were both breathless.
“Morning, Bucky. Oh, and Yelena too, huh?” I stepped into the kitchen, crossing my arms.
Yelena immediately scrambled, “I've— got a phone call from Val, bye!”
•~☆~•
No one said anything more about us. It had been calm. The uncertainty was almost completely gone. No one questioned whether I was a secret agent anymore, and they've all gotten used to Bucky being a lovesick soldier. Until tonight.
“Bucky Barnes!” Bucky nearly jumped from where he was sitting. His eyes riveted to me, who stomped into the living room holding his shirt.
“Room. Now.” I commanded. He didn't hesitate.
The Thunderbolts immediately perked up. This might be it. She might actually kill him out of anger. Through the walls, they could hear my muffled shouting.
“How many times have I said this, Barnes? Don't leave your shirts in the bathroom after you shower!”
I usually could control my temper very well, but today many small things had bottled up annoyance inside of me. The stained shirt on the tiles was one of them, the final thing that had ticked me off.
He leaned against the door, staring at me like I'd hung the stars instead of scolding him now. They were so strikingly blue, but slightly hooded, so majestic and tender— focus, dammit.
“James, are you even listening?”
He wiped the grin off his face and swallowed, avoiding my eyes. “Of course I am.”
I continued about why keeping the house neat is important, but it was hard to remember what you're saying when your husband's staring at you once again, this time pupils being more dilated.
“James Buchanan Barnes!” I warned. What was wrong with him?
This hadn't happened before and it threw me into a loop. My husband's breath hitched, parting his plump lips, he looked like he'd discovered something new and magnificent. She's so hot when she's yelling at me. God, call me by my full name more, please— He swallowed thickly and licked his lips. His mind was screaming at him to just press his lips against mine.
He stepped closer.
“What are you doing? Bucky, I'm telling you—”
He kissed me hard. His hand held the nape of my neck as he kissed me deeply. I half-protested against his lips: “not fair”— and he used the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth, against my own. It was a warm sensation, one that I could never get enough.
My protests became groans, my shoves became pulls, and my huffs became sighs. This man renders me stupid,.
The Thunderbolts listened in horror as they pressed their ears to the wall. They'd expected maybe a fight, verbally or physically, or maybe something broken, but not…this.
Ava, who had been watching (yep, privacy will be violated with the Thunderbolts), phased back outside to the living room when she saw that Bucky hooked his hands under my knees, whispering with a smirk "sorry I‘ve been an idiot. Let me make it up to you, m'lady.” She looked shell-shocked.
"What?" John asked, confused.
“Don't even mention it anymore.” She answered.