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But I Love My Puffy Haired Baby

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"Damn it, James Buchanan Barnes!" you shouted, "I told you to be careful!"

Bucky ran to grab your towel as you got out of the pool. He hadn't meant to knock you into the water, he was messing around with Steve and one thing led to another. In his defense you shouldn't have been so close to the edge. None of that seemed to matter though as you snatched the towel out of his hands, put it over your hair, and ran into the Tower. 

Bucky looked around at everyone, silently asking for an explanation for your behavior. It wasn't like he did anything that bad, just got you soaking wet. It was a hot day anyway. No one gave him an answer. Sam just shook his head and Tony just sniggered unhelpfully so he followed you inside and knocked on your door.

"(Y/N)? Doll, can I come in?"

"No! Not-god damn it!" 

The supersolider heard some shuffling and then your door opened. You were looking up at him with the towel still on your head. 

"Could you ask, Natasha, if I can borrow her flat iron?" you scowled.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at you. Why would you need a straightener? You always had the straightest hair he had ever seen, even after waking up or taking a shower. He shrugged thinking it was just some girl thing.

"Sure...listen I really am sorry for drenching you. I didn't think it mattered to you that much." 

You huffed impatiently.

"It's okay, really. Can you just?"

He nodded and turned to go his assigned task. You shut the door behind him and Bucky paused. What were you hiding from him that everyone else seemed to know? He went into your room uninvited.

"Baby doll, what are you-" Bucky began.

He paused in the bathroom door. You were at the sink with a hair dryer in one hand and a comb in the other. The towel was was off so on your head he saw the biggest mop of tightly wound curls he had ever seen. 

"Bucky! What the hell?! Get out!" you shouted, moving to grab the towel again.

Bucky held your wrists. He was utterly fascinated by your hair. The couple of past black girlfriends he had never let him see them before they finished doing their hair and he always asked about why they were so sensitive about getting their hair wet, but never got an answer. Now he knew. 

"Black people's hair is wild..." he mumbled.

Luckily, you didn't hear him or else you probably would've smacked him upside the head. He reached out to pet it and was entertained by how easily his hand got ensnared in it. After a few seconds, you spoke.

"Babe, are you okay? You're being really creepy."

Bucky looked into your eyes in confusion.

"Why did you feel the need to hide your hair from me, (Y/N)? I like it!"

You looked away and nervously pushed down on your puffy mop of hair. 

"Because it's ugly, Bucky!' you shouted, "It's a tangled, unprofessional, unruly, nappy, gross mess and I hate it!"

You looked to be on the verge of tears so Bucky pulled you into a hug. He wished that he knew how insecure you were about your natural hair before so he could reassured you sooner. He told you to look at him, but you refused so he lifted your chin with his finger and smiled softly at you.

"I don't know who hurt you so bad over hair, but baby doll, it's beautiful to me. It's a part of you and anything that has you involved is automatically the most gorgeous thing in the room."

You still looked very unconvinced. Bucky shook his head and hoisted you over his shoulder.

"Hey! Put me down!" you ordered with no real bite in your words.

Bucky ignored your protests and went into the bedroom and laid you down on the bed. He looked down lovingly into your twinkling dark brown eyes.

"I want to world to hear how much I love my puffy haired baby. My printessa."