#Sam Wilson going to open that box | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

urdepressedslut · 10 months

Text

Birthday Blues

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Platonic!Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: It’s your birthday, and unfortunately you seem to be going through the birthday blues. Sam and Bucky won’t let you be upset on your special day, which leads to Bucky revealing his feelings for you.

♡ Warnings: fluff, self hate, birthday depression, angst, bucky being boyfriend material

The days counting down to your birthday used to be filled with happiness— pure joy seeping from your pores. But as you got older, emotions shifted. Instead of the uncontainable excitement, you felt sick to your stomach. Dreading the clocks ticking when the hours turned into minutes, into seconds.

You weren’t sure what had caused the sudden shift, because you could recall many birthdays that you had genuinely enjoyed. They were some of your most cherished memories, wishing you could feel that lost joy again.

You had lost people along the way, gone through things no one should have to go through at such a young age. But those were the cards you were dealt, and you couldn’t change the past.

Maybe it was the fact that your loved ones weren’t around for your birthday anymore. Maybe it was because no matter what, you’d always have the highest expectations and only feel disappointed the day of. Maybe it was because you were invisible, forgotten throughout the entire year, and the overwhelming amount of sudden attention was too much. Or maybe you just felt you didn’t deserve to be celebrated.

The list could go on and on, every reason unexplainable — but you couldn’t help it.

It was the morning of your birthday, and your mind was already punishing you. You stayed sitting on the edge of your bed, attempting to control yourself, the familiar burning in your nose not going away.

You would smile and say thank you. You could do that today. Just for one day.

You internally chanted to yourself, you would not let your emotions show.

Sam had called you and wanted to meet for breakfast, but you had a sneaking suspicion that he was trying to surprise you for your birthday— buying your breakfast. You had preferred to stay home and sulk, but you couldn’t say no to Sam, he was practically your brother.

Making your way towards the building, you noticed it wasn’t crowded. Sam shouted and waved you over, seated at a nice table outside. With a wave you headed towards him, forcing yourself to smile.

“Hey birthday girl!” Sam announced, and you tried your hardest to keep the wince from showing.

You didn’t understand the nagging, uncomfortable feeling those words had given you.

“Hey Sam.” You greeted, giving him a quick hug before sitting down across from him.

He immediately shoved a small box your way, a huge grin on his face.

You huffed and gave him a knowing look.

“Sam, I thought we talked about no gifts.”

“We did— I got you one anyway. Besides, you’re gonna love it.” He told you proudly, shoving the box in your hand.

Giving him a fake smile, you opened the small box. You tried to ignore the small voice in the back of your head, saying that you didn’t deserve it.

Lifting the lid carefully, you were surprised to see a silver necklace, the charm designed as Falcon wings. Of course Sam had to go and do something so adorable.

“Sam,” You whispered, pulling out the necklace to examine closer, “This is… I love it. Thank you.”

Your eyes blurred with tears, and you weren’t sure if it was from sadness— or genuine joy.

“I thought you would.” He said teasingly.

The waitress came and took your coffee orders, leaving you and Sam to create small talk. The usual asking how things have been, updates about work— nothing too interesting. But it was much needed Sam time.

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind but— I invited Bucky.” Sam told you.

“Why would I mind? I assumed he was coming anyways.”

“You assumed? Or you hoped?” Sam suggested, raising his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes, knowing what he was getting at. According to Sam, it was very obvious that you had a crush on the metal armed soldier. In your defense, it must not be that obvious if Bucky had yet to notice.

“Whatever, I’m just glad he’s coming.” You tried to play it off casual, but the mention of his name had your cheeks crimson.

“You know, I don’t know what you guys are waiting for. You both like each other, so do something about it.” Sam said dramatically.

“You’ve been saying that for a long time, yet— he hasn’t made a move. I bet he doesn’t even like me like that and you’re just delusional.” You pointed out.

Sam leaned his head back and gave a hearty laugh, the sound echoing off the building walls. You watched him with raised brows.

“I’m sorry,” He laughed, trying to catch his breath, “You guys are so clueless it’s sad.”

You rolled your eyes again, thanking the waitress for dropping off the coffees. Deciding to ignore him for a second, you sipped on your drink. Letting your mind wander.

It was possible that Bucky could like you, you guys had grown close. There was obvious tension, but you had always thought it was one sided. He always seemed so relaxed, not bothered. You didn’t consider yourself to be the observant type, but you hadn’t noticed Bucky hinting at anything. He never proposed himself to want something more, he seemed comfortable being friends. Maybe that’s what he wanted.

You suppose it was partially your fault that things hadn’t changed between you and him. But in all honesty, you were scared. You were anxious to put yourself out there— you didn’t have much experience with dating or relationships. But you also found yourself nervous around him, even if the thought of expressing your feelings to him passed through, you’d be a nervous wreck.

“Hey,” Sam called out, “I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just hard seeing two people like each other, and they’re both too scared to do something about it.”

You furrowed your brows at him, wondering when he became enhanced.

“Can you like, read minds now or something?” You questioned playfully.

Sam laughed again, shaking his head.

“Maybe.” He joked.

You both fell into a comfortable silence, sipping your drinks and just overall enjoying the peaceful ambience. That was until Sam cleared his throat, getting your attention.

“Uh… I gotta take this call.” He told you.

With furrowed brows you looked from his phone to his face. His phone wasn’t ringing.

“What call?” You asked suspiciously, wondering what Sam was up to now.

Without another word, Sam glanced behind you, quickly walking away in the other direction. He was holding his phone up to his ear, but you could clearly tell it was all an act. You just didn’t know why.

“Okay?” You mumbled to yourself.

You sensed someone’s presence approaching, and you snuck a glance from behind you. Your eyes widened slightly, butterflies swarming your stomach at the sight of Bucky walking towards you— a bouquet of flowers in his metal hand.

He met your gaze, smiling warmly, his eyes sparkling with something you’d never seen before. The look he’d given you only made the butterflies flutter more violently. You forced a smile back, but you couldn’t help the sudden nervousness you felt at him approaching.

“Hey,” He handed you the flowers, “Happy birthday.”

You took the flowers with clammy hands, noticing just how beautiful the bouquet was. Your eyes trailed over the different petals, until your eyes landed on a tiny card amongst the bouquet.

Happy birthday doll

Love, Bucky

Your eyes seemed to blur out everything but the single word. Love. It was merely a friendly gesture, but you couldn’t help the feeling that flourished through you.

“I— Thank you Bucky. They’re beautiful, you didn’t have to do this.” You assured him, glancing up to his towering form.

“It’s no problem. You deserve more than just flowers, but there’s always later.” He hinted, taking a seat in Sam’s spot.

You set the flowers down in front of you, giving him a questionable look.

“Later? What’s… what’s later?” You wondered.

Bucky smirked, shaking his head playfully.

“It’s a surprise. I’m not telling.” He told you.

You couldn’t stop the feeling that you didn’t deserve any of this from showing. Although you were incredibly thankful that the boys were trying to make today your day— all the thank you’s were still tasting sour on your tongue.

“Really Buck, you don’t have to do that.” You told him lowly, dropping your gaze to the table.

Bucky noticed the change in your mood immediately, frowning at the way your face dropped at the mention of a surprise.

“It’s for your birthday, you’ll love it.” He added, attempting to bring that beautiful smile he loved, back.

His words only added to your sadness, the uncomfortable feeling of attention from your birthday— getting to you. It annoyed you to no end that you had to ruin everyone’s day by being difficult. He was only trying to do something nice, and you were being unappreciative. You hated yourself for it.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m sure I will love it. Cant wait for the surprise.” You tried to push out.

Bucky could see you lying right through your teeth, but he wasn’t upset. He was only worried about what was causing your distress, especially on your birthday.

“Okay, you wanna tell me what’s going on?” He started.

You shook your head, trying to keep a happy expression, but you didn’t seem to have the energy to smile.

“Doll, I can see you’re upset about something. Is it about something I did? Was it the surprise?” Bucky asked, genuinely worried he’d done something to upset you.

You shook your head more rapidly this time, stopping his rambling.

“No, no Buck. It’s not you It’s… Its me.”

He nodded in understanding, but still had a confused look.

“Talk to me, what’s going on?” He asked softly, no judgement in his eyes.

You took a deep breath, standing from your seat.

“It’s stupid, you’ll think i’m being dramatic.” You muttered, hugging yourself protectively.

“I won’t think that, and it’s not stupid if it’s bothering you. If you tell me, maybe I could help.” He suggested.

Your heart swelled at his words— his want to help you feel better. In a way you already were feeling better, just him being around you was enough.

He stood up, walking towards you. Despite both of you standing, he still towered over you. But it didn’t make you feel small, it made you feel protected— safe.

“You shouldn’t be upset on your birthday.” He whispered, the intention behind his words good. But it had made you internally wince.

“Exactly!” You exclaimed, “I shouldn’t be upset on my birthday because it’s supposed to be a happy day! I know that… But for some reason, I’m just not happy. Okay? I don’t know why, I just hate birthdays— and I never said anything because you and Sam seemed more excited for my birthday than me. I didn’t have the heart to tell you guys. Besides, it’s totally stupid and I just need to get over it.”

Bucky was silent for a moment, reading your expression. His eyes softening at your trembling lip, the way your eyes were glossy. He was shocked at your little outburst, unaware that you didn’t enjoy your birthday that much. He stepped closer, using his metal hand to tilt your chin up.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,” He said softy, “What made you feel this way?”

“I don’t know… It’s a lot of things I guess. But I just don’t feel like I deserve all these nice things.” You admitted, feeling embarrassed.

“Doll… You’re so special— it kills me that you can’t see it.” He told you, cupping your cheek fully with his metal hand, “I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

You swallowed nervously, the smooth coolness of his hand on your skin making your stomach flip. You gazed into his eyes, surprised to find a certain tenderness within them. It’s like you had always known it was there, but never thought that it was directed at you.

“Buck I…” You hesitated, “I’m not special.”

“Maybe you don’t think so, which I’ll never understand— but you’re special to me.” He confessed.

Heat spread through your cheeks, dusting your skin a flushed pink. His words sent tingles throughout your body, and suddenly the air seemed thicker.

“I was gonna wait until we were on the ferris wheel tonight but— yeah, that was the surprise. I was taking you to a carnival.” He revealed, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks now.

You smiled warmly, eyes watering from happiness this time. The gesture endearing, causing your heart to swell.

“I was gonna wait until we were on the ferris wheel, to tell you that I like you— mainly because I needed extra time to talk myself up, I’m not very good at this whole dating thing anymore.” He told you truthfully, blushing from embarrassment that he had lost his charm.

You felt relived, happy and scared that he’d finally told you how he felt. Waiting anxiously for this day to come, but now that it had come— well you just couldn’t believe it. This birthday may end up being your favorite one ever.

“Well, I’m sure it’s obvious but… I like you too— a lot.” You told him, attempting to duck your head down.

Bucky tilted your chin back up and smiled at you, his eyes soft and cherishing.

“Took us awhile huh?” He joked, feeling giddy that you both felt the same way.

“Unfortunately.” You agreed, leaning your head against his chest, sliding your arms around his back.

“Happy birthday doll.” He whispered into your hair.

You and Bucky stayed embraced, enjoying the warmth. Nothing could beat the feeling of finally being with each other. The moment was short lived, being interrupted by Sam’s shout from behind Bucky.

“Fucking finally!”

A/N: just a random bday oneshot 🎈

#bucky barnes #marvel cinematic universe #the winter soldier #reader insert #fluff #buckybarnes #marvel imagines #sebastian stan #light angst #oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff

586 notes · View notes

fluffysucker · 7 months

Text

Miss Americana & The heartbreak Prince

Bucky Barnes x Reader (AU)

In no world were you meant to be together, but in every universe, you were meant for each other.

A/N: I present you grumpy sunshine wrapped in enemies(ish) to lovers with Beefy Boxer/Biker Bucky.

Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female. Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated.

Also, I tried to be as inclusive as possible. But my delusion couldn't be controlled I'm sorry.

Ngl this is for me more than anything.

Also, I'm thinking about making this its own universe and maybe write more of it. Tell me what you think

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You hated Bucky Barnes, and he hated you.

The two of you should have never crossed paths. Your worlds should have never met. But the wall separating you could only hold for so long.

The infamous boxer was a phenomenon in his field. Unbeatable and astute, Bucky Barnes held his reputation with pride. He was stronger than all and the smartest the game had. His jab was as numbing as the winter. His techniques were as calculated as a soldier's. Bucky Barnes was as hard as nails. A legend.

To keep up with the notoriety, it was rumoured that Barnes and his team were also a biker gang. It was never confirmed, but the black leather jacket he always had on, the long hair touching his shoulder or tidied in a low bun, the motorbike barked in front of the gym, and the intimidating sense lingering around him. It was never denied, either.

In the mornings, Bucky Barnes ran a successful gym with his two bestfriends, Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. Both played occasionally, but only Bucky was the professional, so they were more his trainers. They also trained other players and armatures. They tried to gain other normal customers, but it didn't always work. With a reputation like theirs, attracting customers wasn't easy.

It was usually the same for nights, unless they had matches. Most of their fights were held on Stark's property. He ran an empire, and boxing was the dominant centre, led by the biggest champion. And Stark lets Bucky have it his way, just like he likes. As long as Bucky keeps on bringing these huge numbers into their pockets, both are happy and content.

So it was out of the nature for Bucky to have zero interest in the new restaurant that opened up right next door to the gym. They had their regularly frequented places. The bar run by Romanoff and Belova, a couple of blocks away from Stark's property, was more than enough. He didn't even bother to throw a glance at it. Even after he knew that the owner had come by and given out menus and promised them discounts if they stopped by, there was still nothing.

Until one night. Bucky got carried away in training. He had an important match coming up. He knew his opponent barely stood a chance, but Bucky enjoyed the thriller of the game. The sweat and blood that go into it He didn't remember a time when he didn't want to do this. It was like it was programmed so deeply in his brain. He was made for this.

Everyone left, one by one. Until then, it was only him. After so many hours, he finally got tired. He threw his gloves aside and went to take a shower to remove the evidence of his hard work before going back home. As he was locking the gym's door, he heard his stomach growl, reminding him that he needed food. He was starving. Before deciding to wait and order food once he got home, the big sign caught his eye. They did indeed have a restaurant right next door. He admitted he was too tired to cook or wait for delivery. He needed food, then crashed into his bed. So maybe the closest restaurant would be useful.

Once he stepped in, he felt out of place immediately. His dark clothes and huge frame made him look like a stranger compared to the light-coloured painted walls. Some had flowers, and others had stars drawn on them. There were fairy lights in some corners. The aromatic scent was everywhere. Bucky almost winced at how bright and colourful everything felt. This was an alternative universe that he didn't belong in.

"Hi, how can I help you?" An even sweeter voice rang and caught Bucky's attention, breaking him from his trance of observing the place.

He turned around to find the prettiest girl he had ever seen standing behind the counter. Your beauty caught him off guard. He never believed someone could be so beautiful before. But here you were, standing. Taking his breath away.

He recovered very quickly and moved to stand in front of the counter. With the most loving smile, you handed him the menu. He took a look at the menu and wanted to laugh out loud. Dish names were just as cheerful as the atmosphere.

Out of habit, you started explaining and recommending stuff for him. He interrupted you, putting in his order. You didn't give it much thought but took his order happily.

You apologised for the lack of waiters, as it was almost closing time and it was only you. No answer. With his blank stare, you told him he could sit wherever he wanted. Only then did he notice the empty restaurant. It was just you and him. It was that late. So he took a seat at the nearest table.

Not taking much, you returned with his order. You placed it in front of him with a big smile on your face. You knew right away who that was the minute he walked in. James Barnes. The famous boxer who trains next door You have been praying after your small visit to them that they would be regular customers. The business was doing great. But the more, the merer. Always. Lots of people warned you about the men next door. But you didn't feel like they were as bad as people made them out to be. You were always so trusting, unless shown otherwise. So you were happy that, finally, one of them stopped by.

You moved away, letting him enjoy his food. Unable to fight your nature, you started talking to him as you continued cleaning the remaining parts of the place. No answer again. He didn't even bother to look at you. Okay. Maybe he had a rough day. Not all people are used to chatting.

Bucky was one of these people. His eyes widened as you started talking to him. People were never that friendly to him. People avoided him. Nobody tried to open up a conversation with him. He didn't know how to react. And he was too tired to try. So he practiced his other specialty. Silence. But even if he wouldn't admit it, Bucky found your voice calming. So he let you talk instead of just shutting you up.

You reduced your talking to a minimum. Only little remarks there and then to avoid complete silence. The second time, you heard his voice since he walked in and asked for the check. You brought the paper to the table he occupied, keeping your smile up and telling him that he got the 'neighbour discount' as you called it. You almost heard his scoff as you left him.

You had your back to the door, so you only turned around when you heard the door close. You didn't hear his footsteps, and most definitely, you didn't hear his goodbye, goodnight, or even thank you. Now that's rude.

You returned to the table to collect the check. But you found the review note you attached to every check empty. Not a single penmark. And that was more rude. You made sure that filling out the note only took seconds. You genuinely cared to hear people's opinions so you could be better and have the restaurant grow more.

So he didn't speak to you for more than two sentences. Didn't say thank you or goodbye. Didn't fill in the note. Okay, maybe you didn't want them as customers if they were all that rude.

It turns out they weren't that rude. However, Bucky was more rude than you thought.

A couple of days after Bucky's visit, you were surprised to see Bucky with another two men. You guessed they were Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. The trio was all well-known. You doubted if Bucky was the one to recommend the restaurant. You weren't sure if he even liked the food. And you were right. He would be caught dead if he brought up the fairy world you called a restaurant. Even when it served the tastiest food he had ever had,

It was a slow day. No intense training or excessive fight preparation The three men didn't have much to do that day. So when Steve suggested trying out the restaurant, Bucky neither objected nor showed excitement.

So when they walked in, you couldn't help the feeling of surprise along with the tiny bit of happiness, hoping it would be a nicer visit this time. After preparing their orders and sending them out, you waited for a bit before you left the kitchen to greet them. Not before making sure you looked presentable.

With the small space and their loud voices, it wasn't hard to locate them. You approached them with a big smile and positive attitude.

"I wanted to make sure you were having a good time." You followed up after introducing yourself.

"The food is amazing. This burger is to die for." Steve was the first to compliment you, with Sam nodding and agreeing.

"You have one good chef." Sam added as he took another french fry into his mouth. "Send my regards to them."

"Actually, I'm also the chef." The statement caused a shocked expression to fill in their faces. They asked for details, and you briefly told them how you were the core of the small business as the owner and main chef.

The two men were polite, and they didn't seem annoyed by your chatty personality. In fact, they interacted with you and asked questions to learn more. And all they had to say were nice compliments. Except one.

"So tell me, sweetheart, what was the inspiration for the place? Was it a fairy garden or Disney's latest cartoon?" None of you were ready for the sarcastic comment Bucky threw at you.

You didn't let your smile break in the face of his sarcasm. Nor did you give much thought to the pet name. You put on a bigger smile now, looking at him.

"A bit of both." That's one thing about you: you refused to let the world change about you. You never reciprocate rudeness with rudeness.

"I can tell." Bucky was taken back by your response. He expected you to get offended, but you didn't.

"Thank you. It was my vision all along." You replied, your smile never leaving your face.

And that started your hate relationship with Bucky Barnes.

After that day, the men became regular customers. And it wasn't just the three men. Little by little, it was most of the team. First, it was just to try the good food. Then it was because they wanted to. They wouldn't admit it, but your place was like a breath of fresh air. Something so different from what they are used to. From what they are known for. From what people expected from them. And you never judged them, treated them differently, or asked about the rumours that followed them. So it was a calm change, but much needed.

But their favourite thing was yours and Bucky's constant bickering. Or more Bucky's. Nobody understood why Bucky was doing this. You never partook in his constant attempts to make fun of you. You always had a sweet response to fire back. You truly were the living embodiment of killing them with kindness.

However, he never stopped. Every time he stepped foot in the place, you claimed it was your biggest achievement. He had something rude to say. Something to annoy you with. Something to bother you. Sarcasm and jokes spilling out of him with no end whatsoever.

The number of times you wanted to punch him or snap at him right back was increasing. But you refused to give in. To let him win. He wouldn't be the one to change you. So you kept engaging with him only with gracious things to say.

Besides, you chose to think that everyone had their own battles and demons. And for sure, Bucky looked like he had lots of them. He looked rougher than most. His job made him appear invincible, but he wasn't. Nobody was. So he may drive you mad, but he deserves the gentle treatment you offered all.

Bucky had no idea why he was doing it. Why every time he saw you, he felt the urge to tease you. It wasn't like him. But he didn't fight it back.

"How are you, Tinkerbell?"

"You should buy green carpets. It will finish off the garden aesthetic."

"Here is the princess who got lost."

"The pasta was great, Barbie."

Stuff like this flew from him all the time. And not once did you get back at him. You stayed nice and polite. Your sweet self never crumbling.

There was something in you that drove him insane. Your warm eyes. Your bright smile. Your cheerful voice. Your positive mindset. Your kind heart. Your friendly nature. Your hard work. Your delicious food. Your colourful wardrobe of dresses, skirts, tops, and cardigans. He couldn't pinpoint what it was. Maybe it was all of it.

The deepest part of him knew why he was doing this. He liked you. He liked you so much. From the moment he entered your restaurant alone, the first time And the more he knew you, the more he liked you. You were special. And you were everything he wasn't. He thought if he got closer, he would be tinting you. He would bring darkness to your shine. A moral thing preventing him from speaking his truth. even thinking about it.

So he acted like a teenager. He made fun of you. In hopes of making you hate him. He convinced himself and the others that he didn't like your sunshine personality.

Until one day

It started off like any normal day. Bucky had a match coming up. So they all had something to do. The day was going fine. Up before Peter Parker, who was usually on reception duties, ran in and said there was fire in your place,

For a second, blood ran cold in Bucky's body. He heard ringing in his ears. Were you okay? He collected himself quickly, wanting to check for himself.

He threw the gloves away, almost pushing everybody out of the way to get out. And he was the first to see the chaos in the street. A firetruck was parked, and firemen were going in and out of your restaurant along with some policemen. His eyes were searching for you frantically until he spotted you.

You had some dust on your face and your white clothes. You were checking that everyone was okay and out safely. But you couldn't hide the quivering of your lips or your shaking body.

He couldn't help himself as he ran towards you. You turned as you felt someone approaching you. Without your control, your face softened, and tears blurred your sight once you noticed who it was.

"Bucky." You whispered as a way to ground yourself from all the mess that happened and is still happening.

Following his first instincts, Bucky pulled you into his chest, wrapping your trembling form in his arms and holding you so close to him. And the dam broke.

Sobs fled from you. Tears mixed with his sweat. Your fists gripped his white tank top. Your face hidden away in his chest.

You didn't know how it happened. You had been holding up well enough during it all. You had been managing the situation the best you could. However, when Bucky got here, your mind stopped working. Your mind gave up on you, letting your emotions hit you with full force, breaking down your bastion with no guarantee you would be caught.

But you were. You were braced by strong amrs, rubbing your back, laying small kisses on your hair, and whispering words of comfort in your ears. "I'm here. I'm right here." "You're okay. You're fine."

Your sobs ceased, but your body still shook against Bucky's. Tears remained to fall freely on your face. Bucky's hold was still firm but secure around you.

You only moved away from him when a policeman approached you, informing you that you were needed at the police station.

"I'm coming with you." Bucky's stern voice left no room for negotiation. It wasn't up to debate. He wasn't leaving you.

"I'll grab my stuff in a second." He turned to the policeman standing in front of you, making sure it was okay that he joined. And he got a nod of approval in return.

He left your side, walking towards the gym. He paid no attention to his friends standing by, who were puzzled by the encounter. And true to his words, he came back in seconds, his black leather jacket on, phone in hand, and wallet in hand.

He got to you, letting his hand wrap around your shoulder. The gesture was welcomed by you as you rested your head on his chest. Something about having Bucky spread calmness in you

At the police station, Bucky found out what really happened. It wasn't just fire. It was a robbery. A bunch of armed men attacked your restaurant, demanding money from you and all the people inside. As you are trying to handle the situation without panicking more, it was discovered that one of the customers was a cop, which sent the robbers into an unexpected turn. So they took all they could from the cash register and your own things before setting the kitchen on fire to run away without being caught.

Between talking with the insurance company, the bank, and watching security footage from your restaurants and the street, you spent the rest of the day in the station.

And Bucky didn't leave your side for a second of it.

He didn't leave you until you both got out of the cap in front of your apartment. And he didn't leave until he made sure you got inside safely.

Something about you being hurt sent Bucky into a spiral. Who was heartless enough to hurt such a sweet soul as you? To look at you and not want to give you everything? Bucky would never know. All he knew was that he never wanted to see you so afraid and shaken like today. To not see your smile lighting up your face. So he would do whatever it took to make sure you were always fine.

Which was why you found him by your building the first thing in the morning.

"You have lots of places to go today. Said I would join you."

And up until you were handed the keys to your restaurant brand new after the insurance company had finished the repairs, Bucky didn't leave you. He was always there. Helping you finish papers, going to the police station to identify the robbers, and buying new stuff for the restaurants. Everything. He was there for everything.

And you had to admit. It was lovely to have him. A helping hand you needed. Physically and emotionally. Someone to share this unfortunate journey with. And Bucky didn't bother it for a bit. And you appreciated having him.

So, it only felt right for him to be your first order after the reopening.

The truth was, you never hated Bucky, no matter how much you tried. His huge form, his steel blue eyes, his signature stare, his playful smirk. They all made you feel something. He made you feel something you couldn't quite understand. But it was a pleasant something. He annoyed you so much, but you never took it too seriously. Maybe he hated you, but you didn't.

Now, you didn't need him. You were ready to carry on with your life. He didn't know how to get back to normal. He couldn't. He couldn't pretend you didn't make his heart beat faster. You made his days better. But he was so unworthy of you. And he knew you could never look at him. Maybe you hated him, but he didn't.

He tried to get back to his life. Only training and matches. Only visiting your place with the others who quickly figured out what was happening. He needed to get you out of his mind. That lasted for two days.

When Bucky was closing the gym, he heard something coming from your restaurant. With a frown, he moved to see you still inside. He looked at his watch to check the time again. It was indeed late.

"What are you doing?" He didn't bother with greetings as he entered.

"Hi, Bucky." Your cheerful voice rang through the empty place.

"What are you doing?" He repeated his question, looking at the paper in front of you.

"I'm sending out advertisements and deal offerings to different places." You answered him with a smile.

"Sweetheart, do you know what time it's?" Bucky signed as he looked at you, looking clueless.

"C'mon, let's get you home." He moved towards you, taking the papers out of your hand and putting them down without messing them.

"But I have a lot to do." You tried to protest as he gathered your stuff and helped you out.

"It will still be here in the morning." And he was having none of it.

"I need to get the business going." You added.

"You can do that in the morning, too." Bucky led you out of the restaurant in spite of your complaining.

He took the key from your hand and handed it back to you after he closed up. You expected him to move away, but he didn't.

"How are you going to get home?" He hoped you wouldn't give him the answer he had in mind.

"It's not very far. I was going to walk." And it was it.

Do you not care about your safety, or do you think you are James Bond?

Bucky had to bite his tongue and not scold you right on the spot. He knew you were stressed about the business, so he didn't want to add more.

"Great. I was going somewhere there, too. Let me walk."

"You were?" You questioned him, not believing him, but he nodded quickly.

As a matter of fact, Bucky didn't have anywhere to go other than collapsing on his bed. But over his dead body were you going to walk back home alone in this hour

"Lead the way, princess." The return of the name, but a smile on your face. He may mean it as an insult. You didn't care. It sounded good coming from him.

And the two of you walked.

And somehow, without planning, it became a routine.

Bucky would finish at the gym and come straight to the restaurant. It didn't matter whether it was late or not. He would get in and wait till you were done with the day. Then he would walk you home. Sometimes, he would help with stuff, but most times, you would make him sit down and bring him tonnes of food you prepared just for him.

"You train so hard. Don't want to burn these muscles. Eat and rest."

You weren't stupid. You knew he had nothing to do with where you were living. Yet he still chose to go out of his way, walk you home, and wait until you got in. He was taking care of you. So you wanted to take care of him too.

It felt strange to Bucky. Nobody made sure if he was eating well enough, drinking enough water, and resting enough. Nobody ever did. Everybody treated him like he was a machine. Like he He needed nothing.

Then there you were. Feeding him with delicious food. Letting him relax. Laughing at his jokes. Your hands grazing softly. It was all foreign to him, but very welcome. And he was getting attached. He knew it. How could he not?

He had the sweetest and most loving person on the planet, showing him attention and care.

Bucky counted the minutes until he could be with you. Until he could walk you home, it would be just the two of you. You did most of the talking, telling him about your day or an interesting story you heard. He would tell you briefly about his day.

He loved listening to you. Every detail you shared with him. You were the first in his life to be carefree around him other than his family. You didn't let his stiff demeanour affect your friendly one.

The extra time he spent back to his place from yours didn't bother him in the slightest. He found it reassuring that he knew for sure you were safe at home. It was all worth it.

Every single one of Bucky's friends knew what was happening from the moment he asked to postpone a match to go somewhere with you when you're repairing the restaurant. And it became so clear when he stopped hanging out at Natasha's bar after matches, claiming he was tired. But, in truth, he only wanted to be with you. And the days he knew he couldn't turn it down, especially after a grand victory, he would be glued to his phone until you texted him that you were home. Then he may start celebrating.

Bucky almost punched Steve in the face when he brought up inviting you to one of the matches, or at least to hang out with the whole team at Natasha's bar. Bucky wanted you nowhere near this world. He couldn't imagine you watching him while he was fighting. You would never look at him again. Yes, you were kind, but in the ring, he was a beast. You didn't deserve to see how bad he could be.

That's why he never acted on his feelings for you. He knew he was falling for you. He knew from the start. But you deserved better. So much better.

Your radiant nature had no place near him.

He even tried to stop seeing you, feeling guilty for ever getting close to you. But he failed miserably. You gave him something nobody did. A light in the darkness.

So he bottled it and felt grateful that you even let him be your friend. Or whatever you were.

Before a fact came crushing. You were single.

The days following matches were usually very slow. So he left earlier than usual just to come and wait for you. As long as you wanted. He had a bandage on his forehead and a compression bandage around his hand.

Sometimes you forget what his job was. Until he shows up bruised and bandaged like this. You knew he was strong enough to handle himself. He was the best in the game. But you couldn't help the twinge of your heart at the thought of him hurt.

So you prepared extra food and drinks for him. Once it was evening, you kept your best table for him. You even brought the air freshener with the scent; he commented once that he liked it. Everything to help him relax.

You kept telling yourself you were only doing this because he liked to help everyone. But you knew it was very different. He was very different.

So when he stepped in, your big smile got bigger.

You tried to come and talk with him whenever you could, but it was a busy day. He had no problem. He enjoyed watching you work. You were so dedicated and smart. He wanted you to be the most successful chef and owner in the world.

But maybe he shouldn't have been watching. He should have paid attention to anything else. So he wouldn't have seen the man who had been flirting with you since he walked in.

It was taking everything in Bucky to not get up and throw the guy away. But he heard it. Your answer to his question "Yes, I'm single." And he was reminded of the cruelty of the world. You weren't his. He shouldn't be jealous. He shouldn't have been biting the inside of his mouth when the guy tried to touch your hand as you handed him his bill.

And he most definitely shouldn't be feeling like crying and burning down the world when the guy asked you out and left his number.

Wasn't that what he wanted? For you to have better than him. To have someone who wasn't surrounded by blood and pain. Someone who wouldn't defile your glimmer That guy looked decent enough. Maybe that was your chance to find love.

However, he wanted to tear that paper to pieces. He wanted to punch the guy for asking his girl. But you weren't his girl.

Bucky was conflicted by his emotions. He didn't know what to feel or how to think. So he did the thing he was the best at. He stayed silent.

You noticed right away the change in his mood. He wasn't the most talkative person, but this silence was different. He looked like he was somewhere else. Somewhere, that wasn't so nice.

"Are you sure that you are fine?" You asked as you came to a stop in front of your building.

You only got a nod as an answer.

"You know you can tell me anything. I'm always going to be here."

Your words finally made him look at you after you left the restaurant.

"You are?" His hesitant tone made you frown.

"Of course." You answered very quickly.

"Are you going to go out with this guy?" It was quiet; you almost missed it, but you didn't.

Bucky didn't know what happened. He promised himself he wouldn't bring it up. It had nothing to do with him. But he couldn't. It fell from him.

"Do you want me to?" Your reply was something he didn't expect at all.

You couldn't say you weren't disappointed when Bucky did nothing when the guy started flirting with you. You didn't know what you wanted him to do. But you wanted him to do something.

Instinctively, Bucky moved closer to you, standing right in front of you.

"No, I don't want to."

"Tell me why I shouldn't go out with him."

The space between the two of you was almost nonexistent. You were so close to each other. His blue eyes piercing into yours. His eyes were filled with something so warm that you couldn't quite figure it out.

Bucky didn't know how to answer your question. Why didn't he want you to go out with the guy? Well, he didn't want you to go out with any guy. So he threw caution to the wind and followed his heart.

You almost tripped, but his hands on your waist steadied you. The feeling of his lips on yours was something out of the world. His lips were a bit bruised, but they were soft. It was all so good that your mind stopped working.

Bucky was about to pull away and apologise profoundly when you didn't kiss him back. As he was about to move, your hands wrapped themselves around his neck, pulling him closer to you and kissing him.

The kiss was gentle, and it was filled with emotions. Loving ones. It sent electricity through your bodies. It spread warmth all over you.

Your need for oxygen made you break the kiss, hands still around each other, eyes only looking at each other.

"I thought you hated me."

"Never did. Not for a second, princess."

Bucky's lips smashed against yours once again. And it was like every piece was falling into its place. The puzzle was completed. The rainbow after the rain

You were the shining star in Bucky's dark sky. He may not deserve you, but he was going to do everything in his power to get you to shine more.

Because you were made for each other.

390 notes · View notes

ofstarsandvibranium · 7 months

Text

My Sweetheart: Part 2

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You purchase a vintage sweetheart bracelet from an antique store and with it, comes the spirit of the woman who owned it. Through her, you go on an interesting journey to find out what happened to her old lover.

Part 1

It's been two days since you've basically taken a ghost back home with you. Said ghost named Dot who was attached to the sweetheart bracelet you bought. In the few days since discovering her, you've discovered that she can be pretty powerful. She'll open doors, knock things over, stuff to grab your attention. While she does have a lot of energy, communicating with you can take a lot out of her sometimes. Now it's day three and you're at your computer with a pen and paper beside you to see if she can give you the name of this Jamie person.

You watch as the pen moves a bit but doesn't lift. You're sure she's trying her best, but it kind of frustrates you. You want to help Dot so she can move on and so that you can get back to living your regular life, completely alone without your newfound ghost roommate.

Ways to talk to ghosts

You type the words into google and click on the first link you see: ouija board, a spiritual medium, pendulums, rods, voice recorder, or a spirit box.

Out of all the options, you felt like the ouija board would be the best bet to communicate with Dot. So later that day you go to your local Target and purchase a ouija board, because, yes, they do sell those there. The board being considered as a game.

Later that night, after you've had dinner, you sit in your living room. You have the ouiji board set on your coffee table. The lights are off in the room except for a few candles you lit. You place the sweetheart bracelet beside the board, hoping it'll bring as much of Dot's energy as possible. Beside that, is a pad and paper for you to jot notes

You take the planchette, sliding it over to HELLO.

You take a deep breath, "Dot, are you here?"

With your fingers lightly touching the planchette, they slide towards YES on their own.

"Alright. What is your full name?"

You watch at the device slides over each letter to spell out D-O-L-O-R-E-S-M-I-L-L-A-R-D.

"Dolores Millard. Okay. Nice to meet you, Dolores. But I'm assuming you prefer Dot?"

YES, she says as it slides to the upper left of the board.

"Alright, Dot. Who is this Jamie you want me to look for him? Why do you want me to look for him?"

J-A-M-E-S-B-A-R-N-E-S

"James Barnes? Uuuhh, is there anything else you can give me? Does he have a middle name? It'll make things easier to looking him up."

B-U-C-H-A-N-A-N.

"James Buchanan Barnes. Alright. Give me a second," you pull out your phone and type in James Buchanan Barnes as well as 1940s.

You went through a list of men, Dot either telling you YES or NO. Then it hit you, "Wait. Hold on."

You type in BUCKY BARNES to google and tap on a picture captured of him and Sam Wilson, "Is this your Jamie? Is Bucky Barnes your Jamie?"

YES.

"...well shit!"

_______________________________

Bucky didn't expect things to go this way. He didn't think he'd find himself working beside Captain America again. However, he did find it therapeutic in a way. Sure, he still went to therapy, just not with Dr. Raynor anymore, but this was a different kind of therapeutic. This was him doing good, to make up for all the bad he's done as the Winter Soldier.

The newly renovated Avengers Compound in upstate New York was where Bucky stayed a majority of his time. He still had his place in Brooklyn when he needed to get away from Sam and the newbies, but, for the most part, this was where he can be found.

"Uh, hey, Mister Barnes?"

Bucky looks away from the tv to see Kamala looking at him confused, "What is it, kid?" He asks the young Avenger.

"So there's this lady in the main lobby asking for you. She said it's important?"

"Define important."

Kamala shrugs, "I don't know. Something about a bracelet and a lady named Dot."

Bucky's brows raise in interest, "Dot?"

"FRIDAY?"

"Yes, Bucky?"

"Bring up the CCTV footage of the lobby?"

"Got it," a holoscreen appears and you're seen sitting in a waiting area. Your leg is bouncing, your fingers are tapping on your lap.

"Is she someone you know?" Kamala asks.

Bucky shakes his head, "Nope, but she's mentioned someone that from my past. So I guess I'm gonna talk to her."

Kamala excitedly asks, "Need backup?!"

He chuckles at her eagerness. Even after working with Carol and Monica, Kamala is always wanting to jump in to help, "I think I'll be okay. You can watch the live footage if you want, just in case."

"OKAY!" Kamala plops herself onto the couch where Bucky previously sat and watched the holoscreen eagerly.

It takes a few minutes for Bucky to get to the lobby. The new Avengers Compound is much bigger now after Thanos destroyed the first one.

His brows furrow as he thinks about Dot. It's been literal decades since he's seen her. He knows she's long passed away after looking her and several other of his loved ones up on the internet. She ended up marrying another guy, had a few kids, and a few grandkids. She died about a decade ago.

When Bucky entered the lobby, you spotted him immediately. One of the security guards rushed to stop you, but Bucky held his hand up, "It's okay."

He then looks at you, "Do I know you?"

You shake your head, "No, sorry, um...can we go somewhere private?"

It's Bucky's turn to shake his head, "Sorry. Since I don't necessarily if you're a threat or not, this is the best we can do."

"Alright," you sigh and pull up your sleeve to reveal a bracelet, "Does this look familiar to you?"

Bucky looks down at your wrist and gestures, "May I?" You slip it off and place it into his metal hand. He looks at it and suddenly remembers, "Dot. I gave this to her before I was shipped out for the war."

"Right. Okay, so, um...do you believe in ghosts, Mr. Barnes?"

He snorts, "Call me Bucky, and, I mean, I've fought aliens, super soldiers, died and came back a few times now, so, sure, I guess ghosts are real. Why?"

"Soooo it seems that Dot's spirit is still connected to this...realm...? Anyway, she's attached to this bracelet and her spirit asked me to find you. I think, maybe, for some closure?"

"Is Dot here now?" Bucky asks, a bit, weirded out by this whole thing.

You shrug, "I don't know. I can't see her."

"Then how'd you communicate with her?"

"She wrote on my steamed up mirror the first time and then it's been primarily through ouija board."

"Those things actually work?"

"Seems so. Anyway, I'd really appreciate it if you helped me give her spirit closure so I can start living a normal life again, sans my new ghost roommate."

Bucky snorts. You're very interesting. It seems you're also very determined and a little desperate to solve this Dot situation out. Bucky's not busy. Sam's away on his own mission, so that leaves Bucky to some free time.

"Yeah. Sure, I guess I'll help."

"Thank you!" you fist bump the air, "Should we start now?"

"What exactly should we do first?"

You slip off your tote bag that you've been carrying and pull out the ouija board you've been using, "We can make contact with Dot?"

"You're...efficient," you shrug and Bucky chuckles, "Yeah. Sure. Okay. Um, we need to get you clearance first so, uh, come with me." You follow him to the desk and watch as he discusses your clearance badge to one of the security. You never thought buying a pretty vintage bracelet from an antique store would lead you to meeting an Avenger.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #f!reader #female!reader

197 notes · View notes

lovelybarnes · 9 months

Text

The Blanket in The Box- B. Barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, sam wilson warnings: I FORGOT TO INCLUDE THE TEAM I'M SO SORRY I'LL WRITE A SECOND PART, silly about: request! "What if fem reader got a blanket of bucky. how would he react? how would the team react? i just felt like if u write this promt u would give it the best justification." (THANK YOU SO MUCH for thinking of me so nicely thank you i hope you liked it!!). a/n: this fic won!! i hope you're ready. i hope i did the idea justice!! also i could not for the life of me think of a clever little title so i made it like a bones episode name. yay!

“Something came for you.” Sam is standing at your open door, fingers tucked underneath a large box that has his arms brawnier than usual and his brows up to his forehead, a false innocence in his eye that makes you think he knows exactly what he’s carrying.

You stare at the box for a second and try to think, recalling each order placed and its corresponding package received. You gasp. Sam’s lips prune up like he can read your mind, his fingers curving a little protectively.

You leap from your bed and snatch it away from him, its weight surprising enough to slip straight out of your hands. You heave a foot over the sealed flaps and stare at Sam’s smile. “Go,” you say.

“What?” He exclaims indignantly, grin dropping. “That’s not fair! This whole thing is thanks to me—I should reap some rewards.”

“How?” you demand, bewildered. “They were my targeted ads. Mine.” You push your finger into your chest for emphasis.

"Sure. But would you have paid attention to those targeted ads without my mindful encouragement?" Hard shoving, more like.

"Yes!" you insist, eyes narrowed.

He drops his indignance and instead adopts pleading. “Please just let me see his reaction, you won’t even be able to tell I’m there—”

“No!” you push him out of your room and close the door, leaving him importunate on the other side.

He raps gently at the door with the base of his palm. “Just let me see it! I just want to see it in real life once.”

You press your lips together and crack the door open a sliver. He jumps back and stands ramrod straight, chin dipped hopefully. “Tomorrow,” you say. “You’ll be the first I show."

He looks at you dubiously. "You swear?"

You press your palm to your chest. "From the bottom of my heart."

He seems to accept your offer, glancing back up at you inquisitvely. You back up preemptively, gripping the doorknob tighter. He steps closer. "Will you please take a video, I'll do whatev—"

You shut and lock the door, turning back to The Box.

Apprehensively, you pace around the box, offhandedly snagging an intricate knife from the hidden curve of your closet. It's almost nerve-wracking when you push the blade against the tape, sucking in a giddy breath as you part the flaps open, tossing the weapon onto your carpet and tugging out the contents with great effort. It's doughier than you would have thought, covered with preservative tissue paper. You toss that aside as well, unfolding the blanket you wobble to your feet.

You gasp when you see it wholly, a hand grasping one end of the blanket, the other going to your mouth in order to stop the spiral into laughter.

It's amazing.

It’s greater than you could possibly imagine. Plastic-scented, sure, but you believe in sacrifice.

You hobble over to your bed, draping the blanket over the mattress. "Wow," you whisper, a little overwhelmed as you take in the details.

The Bucky at the top right corner is barely glancing at the camera, an obviously deeply zoomed-in paparazzi picture of him walking outside. Bottom Left Bucky is another papparazzi photo, this one of him holding your bag in a park. Bottom Right Bucky's hand is cut off, along with yours attached to it, but you can see your fingers peeking out behind another Bucky's head.

Top Left Bucky is side-profiled in a suit you remember from a gala, and another Bucky from the same night is in the middle, a little bigger. You recognize the image as one of the mandatory ones Tony ordered for the night, and it's clear why that one is meant to be the center of attention. It's clearer, the surly details of Bucky's face easier to make out; notably the closest thing to a smile a strange camera is going to get from him—the slightest, most sardonic painstaking curl of the corners of his lips.

Still. He's so handsome it makes your chest hurt.

His hair is neat and done in a way that accentuates his cheekbones, and the lovely splendour of his eyes translates even into blanket.

You lean in closer. "Huh," you say. "Did he always have such long eyelashes?"

One of your hands splays atop a grumpy picture of Bucky, fingers curling and uncurling on the fuzzy surface. Not bad.

For the real test, you pull an edge up and crawl underneath, pulling your chin to your chest to stare at the blanket from above.

"Warm," you mutter appreciatively, fisting your hands into a Bucky's face. You pinch it to your field of view, dragging a chunk off your ankle so you can observe this Bucky up close. You recognize his clothing as his mission gear. How someone got the picture is beyond you.

You're too busy picking at the blanket to notice the subject walk into your room, shutting the door very carefully once he's on the other side of it. "Hey."

You startle, meeting his eyes abashedly. You stretch out your fingers as far as they'll go over what you were looking at, but it's futile when there are twin faces on every other inch. Bucky hasn't seemed to notice your unease, and you try to get your limbs to relax so he won't.

"Hi," you force out, cringing when you sound doubtful. You clear your throat. "Heeey."

He frowns at you. "Do you know Sam is outside your room?"

"Is he?" you say. "How... strange."

Bucky gets to your bedside and stares down at you, dubious. "Are you feeling—" The back of his hand is grazing your forehead when he pauses, breath catching for what must be the first time. You don't stop looking at him, catching the contemplative inhale and subsequent eyebrow furrow when he realizes he isn't even sure what to ask.

You stare at each other for a few moments until his lips part again, index finger tapping on your blanket. "Is that me?"

"No," you lie immediately. "No, it's not."

"I'm pretty sure... I'm pretty sure that's my face."

"No."

"I know it pretty well."

"Me too."

"Why do—where did th—" He sighs, deeply and deflatedly.

"It's Sam's fault," you blurt. "Mainly. Or, actually, it's because of how shitty our privacy is nowadays. You're right. Things were better back in the old days."

"Where did you get this?"

"Etsy," you admit ashsamedly. "It was actually pretty expensive. I got an ad for it and it started off as a joke, and then..."

His head shakes confusedly, pupils flickering between each face on top of you. "Why... why do you have this?"

"I got an ad," you repeat.

"Sure. But... why?"

"I don't know. I generally try to avoid the Bucky Barnes edits."

"That's not what I... I mean why would you listen to it?

"I personally like it."

"How would someone make this?"

"A collage? I don't know, the internet is getting hard for me to understand."

"Why? Why would this exist?"

"Why not?" you counter.

He steps back, tongue sweeping over his bottom lip. His pupils erratic before they settle on a specific part. You try and follow his gaze, arriving at a shirtless image of him from a couple metres away, a towel draped around his neck.

“How did they get that picture?” He looks it over critically, a grimace on his face. He grows a little more horrified as he discovers more stills of him in different situations.

"You know there are these things of all of us? I found one for Steve. Mine's pretty creepy." You slip out from underneath it, standing guiltily next to Bucky. He's barely noticed you, a frantic finger drumming on Bottom Right Bucky's shoulder. "Tony has one of himself. I'm pretty sure he had it commissioned."

Bucky doesn't respond and you tug at his shirt. "Will you stop glaring at it?"

"I just... every time I think I get this century, aliens or Asgard or.... this happens."

You rub a soothing palm up and down his arm. "Okay, I'll give you that. That's fair enough."

"What are you going to do with it?" he asks, turning to you.

You cock your head. "What do you mean? What do you usually do with blankets?"

"Really?" He looks a little horrified.

"Yes, of course. Why else?" You grab his arm. "Touch it," you encourage, urging his hand to smooth over it. "It's soft."

"I guess."

"That's not something you can argue, Buck," you admonish.

"Wanna see?"

"No," you mutter, glaring at him. "It's gonna grow on you," you say menacingly.

"It won't."

"We'll see." You pat Middle Bucky on the head. "We'll see."

You like challenging yourself in harmless situations. Setting a ginormous plate on your non-dominant hand seems innocuous enough when the only thing threatening it is your impeccable balance, and after a particularly short mission, it serves to burn what's left of your adrenaline.

You step too confidently and your tray of cookies balances precariously on your palm.

You concentrate on each wobble, careful to not let anything slide too far. When you finally turn to your room, you let your shoulders slump from their place by their ears, only to regret it immediately when you tense again, sensing another presence the moment you step inside.

It's a relief for just a moment when you realize it's only Bucky splayed across your bed, because you realize he's sleeping very peacefully beneath the Bucky Blanket and your phone is in the pocket opposite to your free hand.

You gasp and subsequently snap your mouth shut, stilling in your doorway.

"My phone. My phone, nonono," you hiss in despair, needing to shut your eyes to concentrate but not wanting to look away. You suck in a beep breath, focusing on keeping the plate steady as you switch hands and pull your phone out.

"Ohh, I knew it. I told him," you whisper, taking a picture.

A shimmery glow takes on most of the weight, allowing you more freedom with angles. You're taking a slow step toward the bed when you're interrupted. You should've closed your door.

"No way," Sam chortles loudly. Your tray clatters to the floor, Bucky shoots up in the bed. "Nice nap, narcissist?"

it seems like every picture of him groans with Bucky.

343 notes · View notes

buckyalpine · 2 years

Text

Bad Habits

Bucky x female reader

Bucky’s developed some bad habits after he discovered something about your boobs. My second request from the lovely @slutforsexyseabass this was SO cute that I did 3 parts :)

Warnings: BOOBS AND FLUFF, pierced nipples, implied smut

Word count: 750

Part 1: Personal Pillow Part 2: Personal Pillow 2

Personal Pillow 3

Personal Pillow antics

“Buck?”

“hm”

“Bucky”

“Hm?”

“James!”

“What?”

“What the hell are you doing”

Bucky continued to mindlessly squish and play with your boobs as you tried to write your mission report, his hand up your shirt, toying with your nipples.

“I have to finish these reports, you’re distracting me!”

“No I’m not, I’m being quiet” Bucky said matter of factly.

“I’m not a fidget toy Bucky”

“You’re right, this is better”

“Oh my god, I’ll get you a fidget spinner”

“No. Not squishy”

“Fine, a stress ball then”

“Nope. Want to hold you”

Ever since Bucky had seen your pierced nipples, his hands found their way up your shirt. Something about the way your warm skin felt, twirling the nipple around your ring took his stress his away. If his head wasn’t up your shirt, his hand definitely was; he was insatiable.

It got the point you were so used to it, you forgot what others might think if they saw. Which is exactly what happened the first time Sam walked in on you both in the kitchen. You stood by the counter making a cup of coffee while Bucky held you from behind, his head resting on your shoulder, his hands up your shirt.

“Hey y/n, you think you can- WOAH WOAH HOLD UP”

“What?!” Your eyes shot up as you looked around the room, seeing nothing out of the ordinary “What happened?!”

“He- Bucky what the hell?!” Sam gawked as Bucky shrugged, giving your boob a squish moving his hands to protectively wrap around your waist instead.

“Feels nice, never felt a tit before Wilson?”

You cackled as Sam ran out, mumbling something about scheduling a therapy appointment.

The next incident was with Steve, though you hadn’t actually been awake when it happened. Steve walked by the living room, sighing happily as he saw you both asleep, cuddled on the couch. Until….where was Bucky’s hand?…his eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw Bucky had one hand under your shirt holding onto your boob, squishing it every so often in his sleep. He refused to look either of you in the eye after that for days.

Tony was the least bothered, having seen many more colorful things in this life. He actually found it sort of sweet, who the hell wouldn’t want to be touching boobs?!

***

You slipped under the covers, nuzzling against Bucky as he wrapped his arm over you pulling you close to him.

“I have a question”

“What’s that?”

Bucky sat up with a shit eating on his face, twirling the barbells in his fingers, his mind wandering places, wondering how pretty your boobs would look with a little something else…

“Can you change the jewellery?

“Yes…what are you thinking you perv”

“Nooothin’”

You shook your head knowing the gears in his head were turning as his eyes shifted between the crystals you’d recently changed to.

“Just wonderin’”

“I can see that”

“Can we get custom ones?”

You’re Birthday

“Open this later okay?” Bucky whispered to you, slipping a tiny black box into your hands, kissing your shoulder while you shook your head, swaying together on the dance floor at the party Tony arranged.

“You already gave me a gift Bucky” You looked at the gold necklace that sat around your neck, a dainty rose pendent sitting perfectly above your cleavage.

“Mhm, this is a present for me” Bucky smirked, trailing kisses up your neck, “Want to go up and put it on for me?”

You looked up at Bucky, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he led you the elevator, whisking you to his room. You opened the box, gasping while he held your waist, biting his lip.

“Oh my god!”

In the box sat two gold nipple rings with his initials JBB on both ends. You blushed, wiggling out of his hold to put them on. He undid the straps that held the top of your dress up before you slipped into the bathroom, quickly changing the jewellery. You took the dress off, sauntering back into the room where Bucky was laying down, smirking as you straddled him.

“And what gave you the idea for this Mr. Barnes?”

“Hmm thought it’d look pretty baby, prettiest tits I’ve ever seen”

“You know you’re the only one that’ll see them right?”

“And we’re going to keep it that way” Bucky grabbed you, flipping you under him, tugging your nipples in his teeth as you moaned “You’re mine doll”

It was going to be a long night.

Part 1: Personal Pillow Part 2: Personal Pillow 2

Personal Pillow 3

Personal Pillow antics

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyes @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchy-whore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92

1K notes · View notes

fandomnerd9602 · 5 months

Text

Samantha Wilson / Falcon Catch Up

A Force Headcanons

How You Met

You were a vet dealing with your own trauma when you went to a support group that Sam was running. You met her and you felt that the dark clouds that haunted you couldn’t affect you anymore.

Favorite Date

Samantha loves going on runs with you in the early mornings. They give her an excuse to take a shower with you later. Also she loves spending a good hour or so listening to the trouble man album.

Favorite Place to Make Out

Her apartment. Every room has a different purpose in her mind. ;)

Soft Yandere

She’ll occasionally use her wing pack to grab you from your runs. “I need you, baby” she’ll purr in your ear before launching into the upper stratosphere with you in her arms.

After a Big Fight

She’ll either box or listen to music on her headphones. You’ll find her and it doesn’t take long for her to either hand you a pair of boxing gloves or her headphones so you can cool off listening to music together.

Reuniting after Endgame

You were working with the Avengers for the five year gap. You were like their support group leader. You were pulled out of the Compound wreckage by your amazing girlfriend in her flight suit.

Kids and How Many

You and her are happy being there for her nephews in Louisiana. They’re the only kids you feel you need at this point. But you and Sam are always open to the discussion

When She Makes You Run Late

She pulls you back in bed and wraps her arms and legs around you. “I give you a lift later. Stay with me, baby” you can’t help but obey her.

Tags: @ma1egamer @deafeningsharkslimeempath @konstantin609 @iamnicodemus

43 notes · View notes

megamindsecretlair · 9 months

Text

It's a Little Warm, Part 3

Pairing: Bucky x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. There is some making out, unresolved sexual tension! There's finally smut. Oral, fem receiving. Slight domination. Cursing. Mild age gap. Reader is late 20s and Bucky is mid 30s. Part 3 of 5. Slow burn to smut though. Some sentences are intentional AAVE.

Summary: Sam Wilson is your play uncle and has invited you and Bucky to stay at a cabin with him, Sarah, and the kids. After your episode, you were ordered to rest. Of course, you don't. Your light goes out and you are in the middle of replacing it when Bucky catches you.

Word Count: 2,948k

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | Read Part 4 | Read Part 5

A/N: I wanted to include the dinner, but it would've made this too long and I've got some chores to get to. LOL. So enjoy this bit and hopefully I can get to part 4 soon! Any mistakes are mine. While likes are awesome, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

Okay, so you lied. You said that you weren’t going to get any work done. But you were never good at following your own rules. You know the person who set them and she’s full of shit. So, even though you were supposed to be resting after your little episode and getting ready for dinner tonight, you were on your laptop researching your latest article.

You hummed as you searched through other articles, the company website, and social media posts. The light above you flickered again, giving you a mild headache. Stupid cabin.

As soon as you thought that, the light flickered once more and died dropping you into partial darkness.

“Shit,” you said. You looked up as if that solved anything. It did not. You pushed away from the desk, grumbling to yourself. The ceiling was too high for you to look into the issue right away. The chair swiveled so you didn’t feel comfortable standing on it. You looked around the room for a piece of furniture you could move easily.

You stomped your foot once, letting yourself have one freakout. You took a deep breath. You were a big girl and you could handle this.

First, you opened the curtain and blinked through the harsh afternoon light. You hadn’t realized that the day had passed you by. You sucked your teeth thinking about how everyone fawned all over you like you were some dainty, newborn lamb. It was low iron. They acted like you had split your head open.

But no, they wouldn’t let you rejoin the festivities until you took it easy and ate. Once you ate, Uncle Sam and Bucky double teamed you, making you go take a nap and relax. Bunch of babies.

The light slanting into the room highlighted dust motes swirling in the air. It was enough to brighten the room but not really enough to continue working by. So you definitely needed a new lightbulb. You figured everyone was still outside enjoying the sun.

You opened the door, straining your ears for any signs of life in the house. Finding none, you slipped on your house slippers and padded down the stairs. You felt silly sneaking around for a lightbulb. But you’re not an invalid and bothering someone for something so small was unappealing. Plus, you had changed into a long red shirt.

“I am an adult,” you chanted over and over under your breath. Still, you hurriedly searched the kitchen for a spare lightbulb. There was a pantry towards the back. You checked it and found a stash of spare supplies. There was rope, a flare, batteries, and lightbulbs. You snatched a box and closed the pantry door softly.

Your heartbeat thumped loudly in your chest. Sneaking around made every sound too loud, every feeling too big, and hidden shadows creep in your peripheral vision. You ran up the stairs with your treasure, entered your room, and pushed the door with a silent breath.

Step one done. You still needed a way to get to the ceiling. While you were able to get away with the light bulb, you doubted Bucky’s super hearing wouldn’t have heard the scrape of a metal ladder.

The nightstands weren’t tall enough. There was a vintage trunk dresser at the end of the bed, but it was too short as well. Crap. Desk it is. You lifted the long shirt you had on past your legs so you had more movement. You pulled on the desk’s leg until it started to move. You thanked your lucky stars for the plush carpet beneath your feet to muffle the sounds.

You pulled it far enough to reach the ceiling comfortably. You climbed on top and removed the bowl protecting the bulb. You bent down low to place it on the desk, next to your laptop.

There was no rush, but adrenaline still coursed in your veins. You felt like you were going to get caught at any point. “I am an adult. Nobody can tell me shit,” you told yourself.

You replaced the faulty lightbulb, having to stand on your tiptoes for a bit of it, to make sure that it was screwed in correctly. Satisfied, you leaned over to grab the ornate bowl.

“Hey, doll, just coming to check on you.” Bucky pushed into your room since you never closed the door all the way. You squealed and wobbled on your way to standing.

Bucky called your name and he was there, his hands locking around your thighs like vice grips. You still kind of wobbled but you found your footing. You clutched the bowl to your chest and yelped.

“What the hell?” Bucky yelled.

“The hell were you thinking?” You demanded. “Why didn’t you knock?”

“I did!”

Your heart beat so loudly and you felt dizzy. You almost fell and broke your neck. Anger suffused you. The overbearing prick.

As you breathed steadily to calm your heartbeat, you realized that Bucky still had his hands on your thighs. On your bare thighs. You looked down. Bucky looked at you as if he wanted to strangle you.

But it also occurred to him that he held his hands around your fleshy thighs. His breaths fanned across and as his eyes slowly tracked down to take in every inch of you.

“Finish what you were doing,” he said, his voice a deep rumble.

You licked your lips and took a deep breath. You could barely think as you lifted the bowl and twisted it back into place.

“Get down here,” he said. You squatted down, feeling his hands still on you, getting higher to steady your sides and your lower back. You sat down on the desk and Bucky was there to crowd your space.

He pushed in between your thighs and got closer. He was on fire. He smelled and felt like outside, as if he brought the heat in with him. He wore a short-sleeved blue shirt and dark jeans. He placed his hands on either side of you, staring into your eyes with furrowed brows and his lips pursed.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He asked.

“The lightbulb went out,” you said.

“Why didn’t you come grab one of us? Oh wait, you didn’t want to be a bother right?” Bucky answered his own question so you saw no need to answer.

Yes, you didn’t want to be a bother. You never did. You made a career out of being low maintenance and you weren’t going to change now. But also…

“I am an adult, James. If I need to change a lightbulb, I’m capable of it,” you said.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed at your use of his given name. If you were rational, you’d recognize that you royally messed up. Irrationally, your thighs began to tingle and your pussy started to throb. You remembered that while Bucky was a good guy, he was still lethal.

“You wanna run that by me again?”

You swallowed hard and shook your head. Bucky smirked, but it was not a pleasant one. He brought his right hand up to caress your face. He grabbed your face, pinching your cheeks and making your full lips poke out.

“You want me to stop?” He asked.

He only gave you an inch to move. You shook your head. “Words, doll,” he said.

“Don’t stop,” you whispered.

“Why did you think it was a good idea to climb onto a desk to change a light bulb?”

“I’m short, we climb everything,” you said. Now wasn’t the time to be cheeky, but it was the truth. You’d been climbing on top of furniture and sinks and step stools since you were younger.

Bucky leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours. “What if you fell?”

“I’ve been doing this my whole life. If I fall, it’s because you startled me.”

Bucky suddenly chuckled, switching tactics. “I guess I didn’t make myself clear earlier. You don’t have to do everything yourself anymore. You can rely on people to help,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. Bucky rubbed your face from where he held it to let you speak.

“We’re only here for a week. If it makes you feel better, I’ll ask for help more while we’re here,” you said. There. That was a good compromise.

Bucky licked his bottom lip and smirked at you. “A week is not remotely long enough to play with you.”

“What?” You whined. Your thighs tried to close but he still stood in between your legs. You needed some type of relief. He was driving you crazy and he hadn’t touched you yet.

“Did you think we’d be done after this week? That you’d go back home and we never saw each other again?”

“No? I mean, I figured I’d still see you when we all got together, but…”

Bucky leaned forward and kissed you. His lips moved expertly over yours. His tongue rolled lazily around yours. He sucked on your bottom lip before pulling away.

“I’m not giving you up, doll. You’d have to beat me away with a stick,” he said.

Your tummy flipped and fresh arousal leaked out of you. You throbbed painfully, your pussy clenching and unclenching. He gave you a heart-stopping smile.

“Bucky, that’s not…sustainable,” you said.

“You let me worry about that,” he said.

You smiled nervously. “Bucky…”

He dropped his head and kissed you again. He brought his right hand up to cradle your jaw. He kissed your lips, the corner of your mouth, and then your neck. Your hands came around his shoulders and lightly rubbed him. You giggled. He hadn’t shaved yet and his stubble was rougher and it tickled your neck.

“If the next words out of your mouth aren’t, ‘yes, Bucky’, then I don’t want to hear it,” he said.

You bit the inside of your cheek, prepared to defy him. He brought his left hand to squeeze your hip, making you jerk.

The movement also made your shirt ride up. You were wearing the same thing you had on last night. When he stopped you from going further. His eyes darkened as he got a sneak at your panties.

“I can take care of that for you,” he said. He blinked at you, showing off those deep blue eyes.

Your chest noticeably moved up and down as you grew more and more excited. “Yes, Bucky,” you said.

Bucky grinned. He left your embrace to close the door. He flipped the lock and a thrill of desire shot through you. Then, he stepped back to you, claiming your lips and cradling your head in his hands. He moved you where he wanted. He angled your face to allow him to kiss you deeper.

He made your head fuzzy from how well he kissed. He pushed in between your legs, rubbing his thick bulge into the core of you. The rough denim scratched at your thighs and you moaned into his mouth.

He picked you up and you yelped. Your arms came around his neck and held on for dear life. He chuckled at your reaction and licked your neck.

He tossed you on the bed and you bounced once. He descended on top of you, pressing you firmly into the mattress. He kissed you and your neck, down to your collarbone. He groaned as he palmed your breasts through the t-shirt you wore.

You moaned and licked your lips, the anticipation driving you wild. He grabbed your legs and pushed them open, revealing your panties in full. Your cheeks warmed a bit.

“Do you always wear these?” He asked. His voice was a breathless baritone.

“Yes,” you admitted. Your secret weakness was sexy lingerie. Though you didn’t have anyone that would see them, you liked feeling sexy. You liked wearing completely ordinary clothes like jeans, shorts, or dresses but had on something filthy underneath. It made you feel good so you walked tall.

“You had these last night?” He asked.

“A version. I shower, like a normal person,” you said. Bucky bent down and bit your thigh. Hard. You cried out.

“Smart ass.” He groaned though. Maybe he was thinking of what he pushed away last night. Good. You liked knowing that you were capable of driving him insane. Bucky lowered his head to rest against your lower tummy, his nose right at the center of you.

He breathed deeply and groaned again. “I wish we had more time. I was supposed to collect you for dinner,” he said.

You tried to sit up but Bucky pressed his left metal arm onto your chest and pushed you back down.

“No, I’m going to enjoy this while I can,” he said. Before you could ask what the hell he was on about, Bucky dropped to his knees and licked your panties.

“Oh god,” you said and rolled your eyes.

He pressed his nose in further, pushing your panties to rub in-between your pussy lips. He moved the gusset out of the way, and rubbed it between two fingers.

“Oh, doll. And you’re soaked. All for me?” He asked.

“Yes, Bucky,” you whined.

Bucky growled in satisfaction. He attacked you. His lips suckled your clit and you bucked off of the bed. His left arm pushed you back down, with enough force to leave no room for movement.

He swirled your clit with his tongue, lapping up every last drop of your pussy juices. He licked one long stripe from your vagina to your clit. Then he really went to town. He flicked his tongue back and forth. His rapid flicks had you seeing stars. You slid your hands into his hair and pulled.

“Pull harder, doll,” he said.

You pulled harder like he demanded and he growled. He returned to your pussy, licking and sucking. Desire pooled in your lower belly. You felt ready to reach that peak, you were climbing higher and higher.

Your thighs started to close. Bucky took his right hand and used his finger to tease your opening. You were so slick, you were sure he would slide right in without issue. He dipped his finger in and he cooed.

“I’m gonna have to stretch this out before I take you, doll,” he said into your pussy. His lips brushed your clit as he spoke.

Your thighs wrapped around his head involuntarily. You were so damn close. He just needed to keep…going…just…

He stopped. “Wait, no,” you cried.

You leaned up to look at Bucky. His beard was dripping with spit and your juices. It was filthy and dirty and so fucking hot you almost came from the sight. He gave you that smile you loved so much.

He kissed both of your inner thighs, leaving sloppy wet kisses there.

“That’s what you get for being stubborn. For thinking you were going to get away from me after this week.”

“Wait, please. I’ll do better. Please,” you panted.

Bucky stood up anyway and found your towel. He licked his lips for one last taste and wiped his face.

He leaned down and teased your lips, getting close to kissing you and then pulling back at the last minute. You smelled yourself on his lips and leaned forward trying to taste it.

“You get through this dinner like my good little doll and I’ll let you come after,” he said.

“Bucky, please. I’ll do anything,” you begged.

Bucky only grinned. “Begging doesn’t work on me either.”

He gave you a quick, punishing kiss before he stood up and smacked your pussy.

“Better hurry. You know Sam is greedy as hell,” he said. As he turned to leave, he pushed your desk back where it belonged. And that fucker really left the room.

He left you there a cold, wet mess. A cold, wet, unfulfilled mess. You dropped your head back on to the bed, staring at the ceiling, not ready to believe what the hell just happened.

That peak was long gone, snatched from you at the last minute. You got up, not wanting someone to pass by and see what a mess you made. You stood on shaky legs and headed towards the bathroom to get cleaned up.

You cursed him ten ways from Sunday. If he thought he would get away with that, he was sorely mistaken. You were going to drive him just as crazy. You grinned evilly as you washed up and headed to your room. You heard him moving in his room. The kids were in their room arguing.

Uncle Sam called out something so you knew he was headed up. You went to your room and closed the door this time. You found the sexiest pair of lingerie you could find in your suitcase. Then, you found a dress you were saving for your girl’s day with Aunt Sarah. The plan was to have a relaxing day away from the boys for a bit. Let them do whatever it was that men did. Spit, fart, and scratch their ass, you guessed.

It was a dark orange dress with giant flowers on it. It was modest enough to wear around the general public, but made your legs and ass look fantastic. As you shimmied into it, you wondered how many ways you could tease Bucky until he caved. Until he couldn’t take it anymore. Until he got that silly little notion out of his head, that he could deny you your release.

He was going to pay. You put on strappy sandals and fixed your makeup, going for a soft, innocent look. You smiled into the mirror when you were done. Hell, you brought your vibrator. Maybe you’d fuck yourself to climax tonight and make him listen.

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | Read Part 4 | Read Part 5

#marvel smut #megaminds secret files #The Secret Bucky Files #bucky x black!reader #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x Black Reader #bucky x plus size reader #bucky x fem! reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #fanfic #marvel fanfic #It's a Little Warm Series

106 notes · View notes

late-to-the-party-81 · 1 year

Note

For your celebration. ❤️

Sex pollen/Fuck or die

With...😏

Let's (never) speak of this again

AN: tee hee Navy- thank you for this thot that ended up quite crackish!

Beta’d by @lunarbuck, dividers by @firefly-graphics, moodboard and banner by me.

Main Master list | Challenge Master list

Summary: When you and Sam get trapped in a bunker after getting hit with an aphrodisiac gas, you redefine the boundaries of your friendship.

Relationship: Sam Wilson x Agent Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

CW: Sex Pollen, Smut, Banter, making light of a bad situation, Cheeky & charming Sam (he’s a warning), Little-Shit Bucky

“I still can’t believe… oh fuck… that we’re in this… yes! Yes! Right there!... mess.”

Sam’s cock pistoned up inside your dripping cunt, as you held onto the straps of the wingsuit.

Thirty minutes ago this had just been a run-of-the-mill mission, but then some gas mask-wearing HYDRA goon had thrown a smoke bomb at the pair of you and closed the bulkhead door between you and the way out.

Once you’d finished coughing and realised that you were neither unconscious or apparently dying, you’d felt lucky.

“Huh. Must have been a dud, ey, Sam. Now to get out of here…”

“I’ll call the Tin Man to come down; he might be able to open it from the other side.”

Sam had got on the comms with Bucky, who’d been in another part of the bunker, while you inspected the door, seeing if you could find any weaknesses. You weren’t claustrophobic, but it was feeling a little close in the small space.

In fact, it was more than close. It was downright boiling. You unzipped your tack jacket part way to get some air circulation, but you could feel the sweat running down your neck. Your head throbbed, your pulse was strong, and why on earth did you have an ache between your legs? You turned to Sam and noticed two things straight away.

Your friend and colleague also had sweat running down his face; he’d pulled off his goggles and was trying to wipe it away. The second thing was that the vibranium suit was doing nothing to hide the erection that was going on underneath it.

Something clicked in your brain, all the puzzle pieces coming together to show something horrifying.

“Umm, Sam? What are the chances that the smoke bomb wasn’t a dud and that it had some kind of aphrodisiac smoke in it? Cos currently you look how I feel.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine. Bucky’ll get here soon and break us out…”

“No can do, Captain Bird. It’s gonna take at least an hour to get to where you guys are. And the jet computers are reading anomalies in both your vitals. Nothing too bad to worry about, but if you have been hit by some kind of drug. I think it’s going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better.”

You dropped your head back against the bulkhead door with a thud.

“Great. So not only am I trapped inside a metal box for an hour, I’m going to have the major horn and be totally frustrated.”

Sam looked at you.

“Hey, I’m going through the same thing here. At least it’s not so visible for you. I wasn’t expecting to be showing off what I’m packing while trapped in a room with you.”

You couldn’t stop your giggle before running a blatant eye over him.

“I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about, though.”

Sam raised his eyebrow in return and grinned.

“I know I’ve got nothing to worry about.” He strode towards you, cocky and self-confident, and damn this drug barreling through your system for making you like it. Totally the drug. “Never had a single complaint.”

The beat of your heart echoed in your underwear, so strong it was bordering on painful.

“Sam…” There was a rasp to your voice. “It hurts, Sam.”

His playful expression immediately dropped, replaced by one of concern. He pressed the back of his hand on your forehead and you moaned at his touch.

“You’re burning up. Fuck. Buck! What are our options?”

“As I see it, you got two. You either try and ride it out til I get to you. Or… you help each other out. I doubt it will be long before you’re struggling too, Sam.”

“Double fuck!”

You let out a bark of laughter. You’d never heard Sam swear so often in such a short space of time.

“Was that an offer, Cap? Cos I can tell you, I’m close to folding here.” You drove your point home by fully removing your tack jacket and throwing it to the floor, leaving your chest heaving in your tank top. You were dizzy and finding it hard to breathe. You closed your eyes, just for a second, while you tried to find your equilibrium.

You knew when Sam moved even closer; you could smell him. Smell his sweat, his heat. His hand, rough and calloused, cupped your cheek and your legs almost gave out.

“Hey. I got you. I got you. I feel it too, sugar. Feel like I’m gonna explode. What do you wanna do? Your decision. We’re two grown-ups. We’re friends. We can be mature about this.”

You opened your eyes and looked up into Sam’s. You could see the concern, the softness, and part of you wished this were ‘real’.

“Sounds like you’re eager, Sam. See something you like?” You were trying to inject levity into the situation, but your attempt was derailed by the pained groan that came out of your mouth instead of a chuckle.

“At the risk of sounding crass, you’re an attractive woman, and I’m not blind. But I do respect our friendship.” You bit your lower lip and nodded.

“Same, Sam. Same. Okay… okay… um… let’s try to keep this…um… professional.”

“If that’s what you need. Lemme sit down. This is getting a bit uncomfortable.”

He slid his body down the wall and splayed his legs. His hand hovered over the fly of his suit.

“Can I? I mean, if we’re gonna do this, I sorta have to.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. You turned slightly away from him and decided to shuck your own pants. The sound of two zips being lowered was loud in the air, along with Sam’s gasp of relief as the pressure he’d been feeling lessened a bit.

With your lower half bare except for your soaked cotton panties, you stepped over to him, trying not to stare too much at his cock. Straddling him, you lowered yourself, pulling your underwear to the side, and sinking down.

Your twin moans filled the air, and you rested your forehead against his and took hold of his straps.

“I… apologise now… for… anything inappropriate… I might say.” Sam’s voice was gravelly, a timbre that had you shuddering slightly on top of him.

“Yeah… feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Should I move?”

“Please, sugar. I’m dying.”

You rode him, fingers a death grip on his suit and his broad hands spanning your waist. You breathed into each other’s necks, a mutual silent agreement that kissing was off the cards. You had hoped that when you came you’d feel better, but no such luck. Sam seemed to have a similar issue. You felt him cum inside you, his hips bucking beneath your own, but he stayed rock hard.

“I still can’t believe… oh fuck… that we’re in this… yes! Yes! Right there!... mess.”

“I still can’t believe that… Christ!… I get to fuck you, but it’s under these shitty circumstances.”

You grinned into his neck.

“Thought about it a lot then, Cap?”

He chuckled back.

“I plead the fifth… oh yes, sugar! Gonna make me cum again. Gonna fill you up…”

“You’ve got a filthy mouth on you, Sam!” You upped your pace and gripped him as you did.

“And… you…love it.”

How was he still so cheeky and charming? You’d experienced it on a low level before, but now he’d turned it up to 11. You knew the only reason you hadn’t combusted was due to the drug running through your veins.

“Take me out on a date first.”

“Was that an offer, sugar? Cos I’m close to folding here…”

You lifted your head, looking at him properly, seeing both the ecstasy and sincerity etched across his handsome features.

“Fuck it.”

You pressed your lips to his, feeling him immediately accept your kiss and deepen it. His hands moved from your waist then, one shifting to the back of your head and the other dipping between you to your clit. Only the briefest of touches and you were cumming again, crying out into his mouth as your spasming pussy brought him to his own end as well.

The pair of you sagged against each other, dragging in deep lungfuls of air.

“Tell you what, Sam, you can take me out on a date on one condition. Let’s never speak of this again.”

“Deal, sugar.”

“Am I allowed to talk about it?”

You and Sam looked at each other in shock as you both realised the comm was still open before shouting out in unison.

“BUCKY!”

Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @ohsymphony @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @talia-rumlow

#sam wilson x you #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson fic #jen's 1k follower celebration #jen's 1k challenge #challenge yourself #late writes

183 notes · View notes

jen-with-a-pen · 1 year

Text

Hello! Welcome to my OFFICIAL Masterlist!

Here you'll find links to my written works and other odds and ends. I hope you find what you're looking for– and if not, feel free to drop in a prompt, some inspo, or an idea you think you'd like to see! My ask box is always open and I try to answer any and all messages as soon as possible.

If you don't like reading on Tumblr, don't worry! You can find most, if not all, of my works on my AO3!

Images edited/made by me! I do not own the art for the comics.

Please consider reblogging my work! Reblogging helps others to be able to enjoy mine and other writers' works! Help me help you help others and reblog <3

Spam liking my works will result in an automatic block!

Dirty Dishes

Bucky x F!Reader (CATWS/CACW time periods)

You and Bucky share an apartment in Bucharest. Some nights are fine, others are tough. Nights with storms are especially tough.

WARNINGS: Angst, Bucky having flashbacks, panic/anxiety attacks

18+ Impressions On the Inside of Your Thigh

Beefy!Cowboy!Bucky Barnes x F!RanchHand!Reader

Head Ranch Hand James "Bucky" Barnes has had a very, very long day. Only way to remedy it is to make you squeal.

WARNINGS: grinding, pet names/name-calling, making out, dirty talk, oral sex (f!receiving)

→ Fan Favorite on AO3!

18+ FOXHUNT

WS!Beefy!Bucky Barnes x F!Avenger!Reader

Not only has HYDRA successfully executed their infiltration on S.H.I.E.L.D., but they have also reclaimed their finest weapon. Your safety isn't the only thing that's compromised.

WARNINGS: being hunted, implied non-con elements, violence, cursing, blood, bruising, beating, passing out, forced nudity

18+ Chains Around My Feet

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader; established relationship/friendship and most of work is told out of Reader's POV.

Being held captive and experimented on definitely wasn't in your job description. After what seems like months in HYDRA captivity, rescue finally arrives– but what is rescue if not relief from the suffering?

PLEASE SEE POST FOR FULL LIST OF WARNINGS major warnings: graphics horror elements, blood + gore, whump, hurt and absolutely ZERO comfort, major character betrayal, major character death, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

18+ FILTHY, IMPETUOUS SOULS

parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader

After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.

warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum

Honeysuckle

Bucky x F!Reader

The adventures of one James "Bucky" Barnes and our reader, Honeysuckle, mixed with a lot of mutual pining, with some help from Sam 'Wingman' Wilson. No real story line, just a mix of one shots that might end up loosely connected one day.

WARNINGS: mutual pining, requited love, idiots in love, slow burn, tooth-rotting fluff, maybe a little angst, established friendship, yes this takes place in the Tower

This House Had Swing In It - Coming Soon/Being Rewritten

DEVILISHLY HANDSOME, ENTICINGLY BEAUTIFUL - Coming Soon

FALLEN STARS - Coming Soon

If You Go, I Go

CAFTA!Closeted!Pre-Serum!Steve x CAFTA!Closeted!Sergeant!Bucky Barnes

It's Bucky's last night before deployment. The evening does not go the way Steve, nor Bucky, thought it would.

WARNINGS: angst, loneliness, pining, closeted feelings, messing with canon

Dancing in the Kitchen

slightly possessive!Best Friend!Steve Rogers x Best Friend!F!Reader

Tony dumps you. Steve picks you up and puts you back together again.

WARNINGS: fluff and angst, insecurities, verbal abuse and insults/language, VERY SLIGHT possessiveness, emotions™

18+ ALL TIED UP (IN A BIG RED BOW)

Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!Reader

Inexperienced and still freshly-traumatized by his first heartbreak, Steve Rogers decides to finally move away for college after taking two gap years to work, save, and help his Ma around the house. It’ll be good for him. Away from his ex. Away from his hometown. He's excited to finally chase his dreams and begin again as a promising fine arts student at Richards College. Well, almost. Thanks to a generous scholarship spanning the next four years of his life, Steve is required to participate in on-campus Greek life. It’s simple: join a frat. They shouldn't be too intimidating. At least they're not as bad as they are in the movies, right? Right..?

general series warnings: frat bros being frat bros, sorority sisters being sorority sisters, manipulation, coercion, blackmail, fluff, angst, whump, explicit forced s3xual acts, slow burn, dissociation, nud1ty, dubcon (bordering noncon), forced drvgging, mentions of kidnapping, emotional damage, Steve's just trying his best, Bucky and Sam are major frat bros, Tony and Clint are somewhere I swear

18+ ALL WRAPPED UP (IN A BIG RED BOW) - COMING SOON

The Weight

Modern!Avengers!Stucky

Steve betrays Bucky in the worst way possible.

WARNINGS: angst, cheating, emotional damage/hurt, no comfort, swearing, mentions/desc. of vomiting

Coming Soon

Reading Lists

This House | Honeysuckle | DHEB

Fic Recs | Spicy Fic Recs | Not My Masterlist

OMEGAVERSE

DEVILISHLY HANDSOME, ENTICINGLY BEAUTIFUL

Honeysuckle Vibes

Hurt/Comfort

This House Had Swing In It

This House: The Swing Collection

Tooth-Rotting Fluff

ENEMIES TO LOVERS

@/natrace's Stardust Reblog Challenge Masterlist

@/flordeamatista's Jardin de Poemas Challenge

@/targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge

WHUMPTOBER 2023 MASTERLIST

161 notes · View notes

punkyarabella · 4 months

Text

You Little Minx (part two)

Summary: Mischievous (adj.): causing or showing a fondness for causing trouble in a playful way.

Warnings: obscenities

470 words

Part one

Masterlist

Bucky frowns at the frenetic knocking on his bedroom door. He is less surprised by the mischevious grin on your face when he opens the door. He's getting used to it.

"What's going on?" He has no idea about what you have planned, but he is already smiling about it.

"I found a bunch of chalk when I went grocery shopping with Natasha," you explain, your smile never faltering. As a proof, you pull out the colorful little box you were hiding behind your back. "I thought maybe you'd want to draw too?"

He squints at you. That's too tame, there has to be a twist.

"I was thinking of drawing something obscene on the parking lot ground, right outside Sam's window," you admit, your teeth biting into your bottom lip.

"There it is," he lets out a chuckle. "I'm in."

You cheer and he picks up his jacket, a small smile still stuck to his lips. He follows you outside, and you both sit on the cold asphalt. The air is nippy and smells humid, but you seem to be on a mission. Exchanging the different colors between you two, you draw a bunch of penises, some colorful insults, and Bucky signs the bottom with a "you're a bitch, Wilson".

You lean back on your knees, chuckling at the Falcon wings you just added to one of the penises. Bucky stands up, happy with his own work. Taking your hand, he pulls you up, just as a window opens two floors above you.

"You're children, guys," Sam shouts.

"You like it?" You yell with a smile.

"It's beautiful," he shrugs, "except for the parts that Barnes drew."

"Hey, fuck you," Bucky frowns.

"Anyway, it's gonna rain, so it won't stay long," Sam adds as he closes the window.

Right on cue, a drop lands on Bucky's forehead. He glances at you, but you are still smiling. You turned from the building to look at your artwork. More drops start to fall, and the colors mix in the little puddles.

"You knew it was going to rain?" he raises an eyebrow.

You glance at him and nod, "It's really pretty when the rain washes the colors away."

Bucky struggles to tear his eyes away from you, to look at the ground again. The chalk creates swirls of colors, turning the penises into shapeless blobs of rainbow. You keep watching, standing in the rain, until most of the colors are either gone or turned to brown.

"Let's get inside, you're gonna get soaked," he chuckles at the wet strands of hair falling in front of your face.

"I'm already soaked," you laugh, but follow him towards the door. "I've got some confetti to put inside the air vents of Tony's new car. Wanna help me?"

How could he say no to that?

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #fluff #soft bucky barnes #cute #chalk art #sam wilson #pranks #fanfic #fanfiction #part two #funny

23 notes · View notes

navstuffs · 2 years

Text

Everything he wanted

Pairings: Steve Rogers x GN!Reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter

Warnings: post Infinity war, ANGST, fluff with angst ending, doesn't end well for reader, sorta songfic, some usage of y/n

Summary: Steve finally gets everything he wanted.

Author's note: ready for some pain? the idea of this fanfic got loosely tied to the song "Everything I wanted", by Billie Eilish.

"I had a dream

I got everything I wanted"

It was Steve's idea to celebrate your birthday dinner at your new house. It was going to be the first party since you two moved in. Now that Captain America was retired, thank you very much, he had a lot of free time on his hands. And he discovered his passion for cooking. He had been preparing your favorite meal that night, one that he passed the whole month before testing to make it tastier - Sam and Bucky were his test subjects.

Before retiring, Steve didn't have almost any time for old hobbies or even finding new ones. He was surrounded by death and danger, brought back from the past to a time he didn't know anyone, even himself sometimes. It was a miracle he found you in the middle of that mess and gave love a new chance. Steve was creating a new chapter for both of you, free of stress and risks.

He knew how much you had suffered with all deaths, especially Natasha and Tony. You were tempted on inviting Bucky, Sam, and Sarah to your birthday but you didn't want to bother since they had a busy lifestyle. Steve let his hand go to his pocket, holding the small box as a reminder of what he was going to do tonight. The doorbell rang breaking his thoughts.

"Finally! Coming!" Steve yelled, walking to the front door. He had told Bucky to be there a little earlier but Bucky was too late for his comfort.

When Steve opened the door, he was suddenly attacked by two pairs of small hands, half-hugging, half-trying to take him down.

"Get him, boys!" Bucky Barnes cheered, a smug grin on his face. Cass Wilson and AJ Wilson attacked Steve since Bucky had the most important item of that night on his hands. It had been weeks since Steve gave him the biggest task of the night: picking up your birthday cake.

"Oh come on, Barnes, making my nephews do your dirty work?!" Sam Wilson exclaimed behind Bucky, a playful tone in his voice.

Steve smiled, grabbing the kids by their hips and lifting them up with no difficulty. AJ and Cass didn't seem to mind, giggling even louder, their legs shaking.

"Okay, boys, we are going to have a lot of time for this later!" Sarah Wilson commented when she got closer to them and Steve put the kids down, with protest coming from them "(Y/N) will be here in less than thirty minutes and we still have to put the decorations up!"

"You are late, Bucky." Steve simply stated before pulling his friend into a half hug. Bucky was careful enough to keep your cake out of damage.

"Sorry? Cake store was a busy. The boys wanted to test their hug on (Y/N) later and I am carrying the cake, so the boys decided on you." Bucky winked at the kids. He walked into the house, carrying the cake cautiously to the kitchen, followed closely by AJ and Cass.

Steve turned his attention to Sam and Sarah, both carrying bags. He promptly took the bags out of Sarah's hands, apologizing.

"It is alright. How is dinner going? Too hard? Want me to take a look?" Sarah gave him a fast hug.

"I have been using Bucky and Sam as my lab rats so, we all know I need your opinion" Sarah smiled, satisfied, following her kids and Bucky's path.

"Uuuuh, I have found the wine, Steve!" Steve heard Bucky exclaim happily from the kitchen.

It was just him and Sam now. Sam was carrying the bags that had the rest of your gifts. He looked exhausted but happy to be there.

"Are you alright, Sam?"

"Yeah. Excited for the night off!"

Steve couldn't help but feel bad for Sam. And happy. Since he had retired, Sam assumed the Captain America mantle and shield. He knew since the beginning Sam was the correct choice and everything he would see on the TV, or hear on the radio just confirmed his choice. Steve trusted Sam Wilson with his legacy.

One of the reasons Steve could sleep easy at night. The other being you, of course.

Steve and Sam walked inside the house, organizing the gifts on top of Steve's center table.

"Thank you for being here, Sam. I can't imagine what you pulled through to be here."

"I am sure you can" Sam laughed. Truly, Sam needed a night off. Away from all responsibilities, have some fun with his friends, get a bit drunk "(Y/N) is my friend too, by the way. Anyway, how is retirement? Putting on your comfortable slippers and reading the journal the whole morning, feet up? Then napping? End of the day: complaining about the news, going to sleep at 9 pm?"

Steve shook his head, laughing. They could hear Sarah and Bucky talking in the kitchen.

"You forgot sleeping during the news and complaining about them at the same time" Steve joked making Sam burst a loud laugh.

"Something more happening tonight that I should know?" Steve jerked his head back to Sam and simply blinked. "Come on, Steve. You told me if you were going to do it, you would do it when time was right."

"You will see when the time gets there," Steve responded mysteriously, walking back to the kitchen. Sarah was having a glass of wine with Bucky, watching the kids play in the backyard.

"Steve, the food is delicious! My brother and Bucky served for something, I guess."

"Hey, I brought the cake! Which, by the way, it is (Y/N)'s favorite bakery and flavor."

"Thanks, Bucky. And thank you, Sarah."

Twenty minutes passed until your arrival. Steve kept pacing back and forth impatiently, keeping his eyes on his phone for your messages. Everything was ready, and everyone had their birthday hats on, AJ and Cass with blowouts. The kids, Bucky and Sam filled up some balloons for decoration and put up a simple happy birthday sign. It wasn't exactly a surprise birthday party, but it was more than you knew.

"I see (Y/N)'s car!" Cass exclaimed from the window and everyone assumed their position near the front door, with Bucky turning off the lights.

"Surprise!" Everyone screamed when you opened the door. For a second, you froze, looking at them stunned. AJ and Cass ran in your direction, hugging your sides tightly.

"What, how?" You barely hugged the boys back, still looking shocked at your friends there.

"Surprise! Happy birthday!" Bucky responded, pulling you into a tight hug.

Next was Sam. You were trying really hard to not cry while Sam hugged you, wishing you a happy birthday. You felt some tears drop while you hugged Sarah. It had been a couple of rough last years for you - especially after Natasha's death. After Steve and you retired and moved in together, it took a while until things got okay and you could lead your life normally. You wanted them at your party, but Sam and Bucky were busy with their superhero lifestyle and Sarah was occupied with her life and her kidd, so you didn't call to bother them about it. Steve was the one that called and invited them to surprise you.

"Hey, we are here, okay? Wouldn't miss this for anything in the world!" Sarah murmured, hugging you and kissing your cheek. She cleaned your tears and you felt a strong hug on both your sides. AJ and Cass again. You kneeled down to their level.

"There is cake, there are tons of gifts from us as well!" Cass told you, excited. You finally hugged them properly.

"I am sure they will be my favorite gifts!"

You got up and turned to Steve and felt his arms close around you. You lost your parents before joining the Avengers, and being alone for so long it was hard to bond with anyone. With time passing, your relationship with Steve changed from respectful to friendship to love. You had gone through so much together, it was hard seeing yourself without each other.

After Thanos, for a moment, you thought Steve was going to leave you. But he didn't.

After so many losses, it was nice knowing Steve chose you.

"Thank you, thank you so much, Steve. I love you." You whispered, your voice cracking down.

Steve didn't answer, placing a single kiss on the top of your head. He couldn't wait to ask your hand in marriage later that night.

"Not what you'd think

And if I'm being honest

It might've been a nightmare"

-x-

"I had a dream

I got everything I wanted

But when I wake up, I see

You with me"

Steve wakes up, feeling disoriented at first. He doesn't really know where he is. He gasps for some air and tries to get up but he is stopped by a pair of hands placed on his chest.

"Steve?" A woman's worried voice he knows very well. Peggy. "Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare?"

Steve doesn't answer, letting himself be dragged back to the bed. Peggy is holding his face, scanning his expressions. She looks worried - like it had happened before.

"I had a dream."

"What kind? Bad? Good?"

"I don't know."

Peggy doesn't answer, holding Steve in her arms, wanting to make sure he will calm down. Since he came back from the future, Steve's nights had been rough. She knows it had to be something from the time he passed in the future. Steve didn't share everything that happened yet but Peggy was patient, she could wait. She wasn't going to pressure him, she was just happy with his return.

"We will be alright, Steve. We are together now, we will be okay" Peggy whispers against his hair, still holding him closely.

Steve doesn't say anything. He remembers now he has come back for her because that is what he wanted, right? Since the beginning. Steve made the conscious choice of not telling anyone, not even you since Steve knew he would break your heart no matter what. Leaving without saying anything was the best choice.

Steve's dreams had started a little after he came back. He would have glimpses of the life he could have had with you - a child, a dog, getting old together. And it hurt. More than he admitted to himself.

Steve had made a choice and he needed to live with it now.

"If I knew it all then, would I do it again?

Would I do it again?"

Taglist: @peaches1958

STEVE ROGERS MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #captain america x reader #captain america x you #steve rogers fanfics #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfi #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rodgers imagine #captain america fanfics #captain america fanfic #captain america imagine #captain america imagines #captain america fanfiction #my headcanon of this fanfic: wanda is messing with him for leaving reader

229 notes · View notes

swan-of-sunrise · 8 days

Text

Hawkeye (Part IV)

Summary: Christmas Day arrives and while (Y/N) and Steve enjoy a quiet day with their daughter, a familiar face pays them an unexpected but ultimately welcomed visit.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi guys! We've finally made it to the last chapter of this little mini-series and trust me, there's no content warnings but you'll for sure wanna read this with a box of tissues nearby lol thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Hawkeye (Part IV) December 25th, 2024 The Home of (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Steve Rogers, Brooklyn (Previous Chapter)

Christmas Day had finally arrived, and the Rogers-(Y/L/N) family spent their morning amidst a flurry of shredded wrapping paper, discarded ribbons and cast-off decorative bows, their home overflowing with holiday cheer. The television was turned on to a broadcast of the Yule Log and while Christmas music played faintly in the background, the scent of (Y/N)’s famous hot coca and Steve’s homemade cinnamon rolls combined with the smell of fresh pine emanating from their sizable tree to create a warm, heavenly aroma. Outside, snow leisurely came down from the cloudy sky, dusting their lawn and the near-deserted street and creating a tranquil landscape that (Y/N) couldn’t help but admire each time she glanced out their windows.

Carina, after tearing through all the presents she’d gotten from her parents and her many aunts and uncles, was sitting content on the floor of the living room and playing with her brand-new Mega Bloks while Indy, whose fur had been lovingly decorated with bows by the enthusiastic fifteen-month-old, was curled up in his dog bed by the heat vent and munching on his new bone. (Y/N) and Steve took advantage of the peace and quiet to exchange gifts with one another; they initially agreed on giving something small and possibly handmade, but it quickly became apparent that they both went behind each other’s back and splurged on one another. (Y/N) beamed with joy when she opened her expertly wrapped package to reveal a handmade cassette mixtape, featuring various songs that had special meaning to the two of them and their relationship, and her jaw subsequently dropped when she withdrew a gorgeous antique pearl necklace. Steve laughed in delight when he pulled a custom Viewmaster out of his box, marveling at all the pictures of their life together she’d added to its many reels, and his azure eyes went wide when he saw the autographed 1941 Pee Wee Reese – one of his all-time favorite Brooklyn Dodgers players – baseball card tucked into a hard protective sleeve.

It was then that (Y/N) and Steve finally unsealed the envelope that Dr. Prince had prepared for them together, scanning their most recent sonogram and gasping in unison when they read ‘It’s A Girl!’ printed along the bottom. “We’re having another girl!” Steve exclaimed and (Y/N) laughed in delight as his hands came up to cradle her face and he captured her lips in an enthusiastic kiss; when they came up for air, he pulled her into a tight hug and murmured into her ear, “I told you so…”

(Y/N) playfully dug her fingers into his sides, smirking at his surprised yelp and leaning back to meet his mirthful gaze. “Come July, you and Indy are going to be outnumbered around here.”

Grinning, Steve trailed kisses along her jaw and towards her smiling, kiss-swollen lips. “We wouldn’t want it any other way, sunshine.”

Some time later, they FaceTimed their friends one by one to share their happy news with them. The Barton’s and Kate Bishop were thrilled, and (Y/N) was pleased to see how much the young archer was enjoying spending Christmas Day with her new partner and his family; the Wilson family was equally ecstatic, with AJ and Cass letting out a cheer at the news and Sarah immediately listing off various foods that would help with her lingering nausea, and they all burst into laughter when a disgruntled Sam reached into his wallet and handed a folded bill over to a smug-looking Bucky. Everyone else they contacted – Bruce, Scott, Rhodey, Pepper, Brunnhilde, Carol, Wong and the Guardians of the Galaxy – seemed to be enjoying a wonderful holiday season with their own families and they all eagerly congratulated them on their second pregnancy; none of them said anything, but (Y/N) could tell that they were relieved to see another signal that life was slowly but surely returning back to normal after Thanos and the Snap.

“Shouldn’t you put the ham in the oven soon?” (Y/N) asked, her arm outstretched to grab a wayward scrap of wrapping paper that somehow ended up underneath the armchair. When she finally succeeded in grabbing it, she sat up with a tired huff but frowned once she realized that her husband hadn’t answered her; glancing over her shoulder, she smiled to herself as she watched Steve and Carina stacking her new blocks together, both wearing near identical looks of concentration as they completed their task. Like father like daughter, she thought with an inward chuckle before pointedly clearing her throat. “Sweetheart? The ham?”

Steve’s head shot up and his brows rose in surprise as he craned his neck to look at the clock hanging over the entryway. “Time sure flies when you’re having fun, doesn’t it? I’ll be back in a minute, angel.” He kissed the top of the infant’s head and let her continue playing before standing up and walking over to where (Y/N) was kneeling, offering her a hand and helping her clamber to her feet. “What’s that look for, sunshine?”

“Do I need a specific reason to admire my handsome husband and his newfound appreciation for toddler architecture?” She countered with a teasing smile.

Chuckling, one of Steve’s hand rested on her waist while the other moved to cradle her cheek. “I suppose not, but I’m afraid it’ll cost you a kiss.” He leaned in and planted a swift kiss onto her forehead. “One more.” His lips brushed against the bridge of her nose and she giggled at the ticklish sensation. “Wait a sec, one more.”

“Steve!”

“Nope, that last one didn’t count.” Steve gave her cheek an over-exaggerated kiss, a devious smirk playing on his lips as she laughed. “One more, baby.”

“Steven Grant Rogers, I’m carrying your child and if I don’t eat something soon, I promise that you’re going to live to regret it.” Her half-hearted threat went unnoticed by her husband, who was preoccupied with peppering kisses along her jawline, so she was forced to place her hands on his chest and firmly push him away with a laugh. “Go!”

With a playful wink, Steve turned and sauntered into the kitchen to prepare their Christmas Day dinner, and (Y/N) looked over at Carina with an exasperated sigh. “Your Dada’s silly, isn’t he, lemon drop?” She chuckled when the infant giggled and clapped her chubby hands together, leaning down to ruffle her daughter’s (Y/H/C) hair and letting her continue stacking her blocks while she gathered up the rest of the wrapping paper; after she crammed the last of it into her brown recycling bag, she carried it into the kitchen and set it down by the back door to dispose of later. Steve was setting the oven’s timer when she sidled up beside him and leaned in to kiss his cheek, but the sound of their doorbell ringing throughout their otherwise quiet home interrupted her.

“We didn’t invite anyone over, did we?” Steve asked and when (Y/N) shook her head, the muscle in his jaw clenched as his brows furrowed in worry. “Guess we should’ve left Brienne activated after all…”

“I sincerely doubt that any of Kingpin’s lackeys would be dumb enough to announce their presence by ringing the doorbell,” She reasoned, but her own logic didn’t stop her from bringing a hand up to her lips and whistling Indy’s command to guard; they exchanged a look before leaving the kitchen and heading down the hallway to their front door, and she spared a brief glance into the living room to see their senior German Shepard standing alert beside an unaware Carina as she continued to play. They passed by their entryway table – stopping for a moment to retrieve several stun discs they’d stashed away in its hidden compartment for emergencies – and Steve wrapped a protective arm around her waist as she unlocked the door and cautiously pulled it open.

Standing on their porch was a young woman, with long blonde hair intricately braided over her shoulder, numerous silver ear piercings decorating her ears and dressed in a stylish emerald-green winter coat. She looked to be in her mid-twenties and while her pale green eyes were outlined with dark blue liner, the makeup couldn’t mask the uncertainty and the hint of fear in her gaze; her lips were pursed and her hands were shoved into her coat’s pockets as she looked between them both, and after a tense moment she finally spoke. “I’m so sorry for imposing on your Christmas, but I was in the city on a work trip and I couldn’t leave without stopping by. My name is-”

“Yelena,” (Y/N) interjected, her eyes widening in surprise; Natasha’s description of her little sister was spot-on, but it wasn’t until she heard her thick Russian accent that she fully realized who she was.

Steve, who was doing a far better job of hiding his shock, opened the door wider and gave the young woman a tight-lipped smile. “Please, come in.” Yelena hesitated for a moment but stepped through the doorway, her eyes carefully scanning their festively-decorated entryway as she slipped off her coat and black leather gloves. She allowed Steve to hang her coat on their coat-rack and followed them into the living room, and (Y/N) caught the blink-and-you-miss-it smile that formed when she spotted Carina and Indy. “Would you like something to drink, Yelena? Water, hot coca, hot coca with a splash of whiskey…?”

“I won’t lie, the third option sounds very good right about now,” The former Black Widow replied with a wry smirk, although it was still easy to see the apprehension that she was trying so hard to hide. “Thank you.”

Steve’s azure eyes briefly met (Y/N)’s before he turned and headed into the kitchen, whistling the command for Indy to join him, and (Y/N) scooped Carina up before sitting on the opposite end of the couch from Yelena; the infant squirmed on her lap, seemingly displeased to have been taken away from her Mega Bloks, but she was quickly distracted by the stuffed Hulk – a Christmas gift from her Uncle Bruce – that (Y/N) wriggled in front of her. “If it wasn’t for this little gumball,” She patted the side of her baby bump with her free hand. “I’d have a spiked hot coca the same as you.”

Yelena smiled politely. “Congratulations. Do you know whether it’s a boy or a girl yet?”

“We actually just found out this morning; it’s a girl, and we’ve already decided on her name.” (Y/N) took a steadying breath before continuing. “Natalia Austen Rogers-(Y/L/N).” When they were initially brainstorming various baby names, she and Steve came to the agreement that they would find a way to name their little boy or girl after Natasha and Tony; Natalia, being the spy’s birth name, and Austen, being the long-lasting nickname that the billionaire bestowed upon her the very first time they met.

The younger woman’s green eyes misted over, but she was quick to duck her head to hide her emotional reaction. “That’s…um, that’s a wonderful name. Natasha would like that.” She anxiously began to twirl one of her many rings around her finger. “I’ve been working up the courage to speak with you for quite some time. I came close earlier this week, at the pizza parlor in Greenwich Village, but I…” Trailing off, Yelena’s eyes flicked up to meet (Y/N)’s, carefully reading her before continuing on. “Judging by the overwhelming tension that is emanating from you and your husband, it would be safe to assume that you’ve been in recent contact with Clint Barton.” When (Y/N) mutely nodded, Yelena sighed to herself and threaded her fingers together in her lap. “Firstly, I would like to assure you that you and your family are not in any danger. I was hired to remove an obstacle and while it was an assignment that I was admittedly eager to complete, I ultimately decided against completing it; Barton was not responsible for my sister’s death, and I couldn’t see that until it was almost too late.”

“But you did see it, and that’s what really matters,” (Y/N) reassured her as she gently smoothed out her daughter’s hair, smiling when the infant waved at the former Black Widow and babbled away in excitement when she waved back. “And if it makes you feel any better, Clint’s not really the type to hold a grudge…well, except for that one time when Nat bit him during a fight. He still likes to bring that up from time to time.”

The corner of Yelena’s lips briefly twitched upwards before she sobered. “Secondly, I would like to thank you for helping my parents arrange for Natasha’s memorial. Ohio was…it was the first place where she was truly happy, and I’m glad that there is something there to honor her memory and her sacrifice.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, (Y/N) adjusted her hold on Carina and cast her eyes downward. “It was the least I could do. Nat told me a little about her past after she went on the run and helped take down the Red Room, but she opened up more in the years after you Vanished.” She glanced up and met Yelena’s gaze with a sad smile. “She was so proud of you, Yelena, for traveling around the world and making it your mission to give all those Widows their freedom. Everything she did to help us reverse the Snap she did because she loved you, and she never once gave up trying to get you back.”

Yelena, overcome with emotion, nodded in thanks as she wiped a wayward tear from her cheek. A moment later, Steve walked back into the living room with a full mug of hot coca cradled in his hands and Natasha’s old knapsack slung over his shoulder; the former Black Widow murmured her thanks when she accepted the mug and while she took a cautious sip, Steve shrugged the knapsack off and leaned on the arm of the couch beside (Y/N). “I’m so sorry for your loss, Yelena. Your sister wasn’t just one of a kind, but she was a hero.” One of his hands moved to rest on (Y/N)’s shoulder and she briefly brushed her lips against his knuckles in comfort as he continued. “As I’m sure your parents already told you, Nat left you a message before she died; we’ve kept it safe since then, along with a few of her things that survived the Battle of Earth.”

After another sip of hot coca, Yelena set her mug down onto the coffee table and gingerly accepted the knapsack, her expression unreadable as she examined the faded name patch sewn onto the sturdy canvas. “Can I…?” She cleared her throat and looked up at them, her green eyes tinged with red. “Would you mind if I listen to it now?”

“Of course not,” (Y/N) assured her with a tight smile, allowing her husband to help her stand and positioning Carina to sit against her hip. “We’ll, um…we’ll just be in the kitchen, if you need anything.”

Yelena nodded and while she tentatively reached into her sister’s knapsack, the (Y/L/N)-Rogers family made their way to the kitchen to give the younger woman some much-needed privacy to finally face her grief head-on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, what’s Yelena like?” (Y/N) asked, reaching into her satchel for another apple and offering it to the massive rhino behind the wooden fence; the Border Tribe had been gracious enough to allow both the visiting members of Wakanda’s new outreach program and the fugitive Avengers to visit their impressive herd of rhinoceros and since (Y/N) hadn’t seen the spy since she’d gone on the run after Siberia, she invited Nat to join her at the enclosures.

“She’s strong, much stronger than she realizes. She’s funny, smart as hell and although she can be a little bit of a pain in the ass, she’s the kind of person who’ll have your back no matter what.” Natasha’s sincere smile turned playful as she arched an appraising brow at her. “Come to think of it, she sort of reminds me of another person I know…”

(Y/N) sighed in exaggerated exasperation. “You better not let Sam hear you saying that, ‘cause his ego’s inflated enough as it is.”

Rolling her eyes, Natasha lightly shoved her shoulder as she burst into giggles. “You know damn well that I was talking about you, hot-shot, and I meant every word of it.” Both women shared a look of understanding and while her heart burst with affection for the spy, (Y/N) patted the rhino’s neck and fed her another apple. “She likes music almost as much as you do, you know, and lately, she’s turned into a bit of a fashionista. Hopefully, you’ll get a chance to meet her someday; you guys would totally get along.”

“I think so, too. We can talk about music, clothes and all the best ways to annoy the hell out of you,” (Y/N) chuckled as Natasha shook her head in disbelief, giving the rhino one last pat before looping her around hers and smiling brightly, “C’mon, we should head back to Bucky’s farm and make sure he hasn’t fed Birdbrain to his goats.”

(Y/N) smiled to herself as she recalled her conversation with Natasha so long ago and leaned down to kiss the top of Carina’s head. It had been nearly a quarter of an hour since they’d left Yelena alone in their living room with Natasha’s final message for her, and they were trying to distract themselves from the emotionally-fraught situation with their daughter and their dog; Steve was crouched on the kitchen floor and scratching a pleased Indy behind the ears while (Y/N) entertained Carina by singing various Christmas songs, beaming with pride as their daughter sat on the kitchen island in front of her and happily babbled along with her.

“At this rate, she’s gonna be singing her ABC’s before she even turns two,” Steve remarked with a proud grin, standing up and watching Indy stroll over to his water bowl for a moment before leaning against the kitchen island and jiggling her stuffed Hulk in front of her. “Aren’t you, angel? You’re so smart, just like Mama.”

“Mama smart!” Carina exclaimed and clapped her chubby hands together in glee.

“Yep, but so’s Dada! He’s very, very smart, lemon drop, just like you.” The infant giggled when (Y/N) gently booped her nose with her index finger, and she glanced over at her husband and smirked when she saw the bemused expression on his face. “Don’t sell yourself short, sweetheart; your intelligence is one of the many, many things that I love about you.”

Steve’s brow playfully arched and he hummed in interest as his arm not-so-subtly moved to wrap around her waist. “Is that so? Mind tellin’ me what the rest of ‘em are, or is that classified intel?”

“Not necessarily, but it is the sort of intel that comes with a hefty price-tag.”

“I’ve got a pint of A Hunka-Hulka Burning Fudge and two Three Musketeer bars stashed in the downstairs freezer-”

“Sold!”

Just as a chuckling Steve leaned in for a kiss, Yelena hesitantly entered the kitchen and cleared her throat, giving them an awkward sort of smile when they both looked over at her; her pale green eyes were puffy from crying, but (Y/N) could see that for the first time since entering their home, the younger woman’s features were free of any anxiety and trepidation. I hope that Nat’s final message helped her find some closure, she thought to herself as she watched Yelena gently place the empty mug onto the counter before finally speaking. “I want to thank you both, for the delicious hot coca and for inviting me into your home so that I could accept my sister’s personal items.” She hugged the knapsack close to her chest and gave them a tiny smile, and (Y/N) could’ve sworn she spotted a hint of longing in her steely gaze as she continued. “I’ve taken up enough of your time, so I should leave you to enjoy the rest of your holiday.”

Steve and (Y/N) exchanged a look as the former Black Widow turned to leave, an unspoken agreement passing between them before Steve spoke up. “Yelena?” She turned back around to face them and Steve gathered Carina up into his arms, his trademark smile of sincerity spreading across his face as they walked around the kitchen island to stand before her. “I know that you’ve only just met us and that there’s probably other ways you’d rather be spending your Christmas Day, but we’d be honored if you joined us for dinner.”

Yelena froze, seemingly unsure of how to respond to their invitation. “I…that’s very cool of you to ask, but I-I wouldn’t want to intrude…”

“You wouldn’t be intruding at all,” (Y/N) promised as a smile of her own began to form. “It’ll be great, so long as you don’t mind listening to a fifteen-month old incoherently sing along to Christmas songs and fending off an adorable German Shepard as he begs for some of your dinner.”

As she looked between them both, Yelena’s pale green eyes softened and a softer, more genuine smile slowly illuminated her features. “Well, I do like your American Christmas songs and adorable dogs…”

At the start of the holiday season, (Y/N) planned on spending her picture-perfect Christmas with her beloved Steve and Carina, and she assumed that the biggest surprise in store for them would be finally learning the sex of their new baby. But after over ten years of living the life of a superhero, it should’ve come to no surprise that even the best-laid plans could change in the blink of an eye; in a week where she’d watched a Broadway musical loosely and hilariously adapt her husband’s entire life, helped her favorite archer and his biggest fan take on one of New York City’s most notorious criminal organizations and finally met her deceased best friend’s mysterious little sister after she nearly killed their friend, it just made sense that they’d add another place setting to their dining room table and enjoy their Christmas Day dinner alongside a talkative and overall happy Yelena Belova.

Neither (Y/N) nor Steve dared ask Yelena about Natasha’s final message to her, both unwilling to dampen the younger woman’s cheerful mood, but if her sparkling eyes and joyful laughter was anything to go off of, then (Y/N) knew that the message succeeded in helping Yelena finally find some closure. Yelena, being the sort of person that was quick to open up once she felt at home, was a delightful guest; while they enjoyed their dinner, she regaled them with stories of hers and Natasha’s childhood in Ohio and her journey of self-discovery since being freed of the Red Room’s chemical subjugation and in turn, (Y/N) and Steve shared their happiest memories of Natasha with her. If this is any indication of what the future Rogers-(Y/L/N)’s Family Christmases will be like then I’m all in, (Y/N) thought to herself with a smile as Steve and Yelena laughed at her story and Carina nodded off in her highchair, stroking a hand over her growing bump and basking in the cozy holiday cheer that occupied their home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: And there you have it, a little Christmas fluff for ya'll in April! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk @momc95 @savedbystyle @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @becausewelie @outoftheregular @junipermurdock @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley @username23345@crist1216 @capswife @lilmschild @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell @y-napotat @mary1raven @groovyqueer @ljej95 @innersublimefury @prettysbliss

9 notes · View notes

tllgrrl · 6 months

Text

Sweet Potato Pie by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones

SarahBucky Fleur De Louve Month 2023 - Week 1, Day 2 Prompt: “Sweet Potato Pie” | SFW

Sarah Wilson/Bucky Barnes, and Special Guest Cameo: Sam Wilson

* * * * * * * * * *

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Sarah’s boys were already at the grandparents in Atlanta, and the original plan was that Sam would be in NYC with Misty, the restaurant would be closed until Friday, and Bucky would be home with her for a nice, quiet (maybe not so quiet) Wednesday, then the two of them would make a Thanksgiving Day drive to Atlanta to stay until Sunday, when the boys would come back with them to Delacroix.

That was the plan.

Then came the phone call, and there she was hearing about how some shit had popped off on the other side of the world in a place that she wasn’t privy to know for her own safety, and in the blink of an eye she was on the front porch, kissing Bucky goodbye before dawn…again.

“I’m sorry, nandi,” he said softly, his forehead touching hers.

“I know, baby. It is what it is,” she answered, pulling his dog tags over her head and onto his neck. “Just come back to me in one piece.”

“I will.”

“You better.”

“Save me some Sweet Potato Pie,” he says over his shoulder, walking toward the van.

“Me too!” someone yelled from the passenger seat.

“Ha! I’ll think about it, Cap.”

“You’re the meanest sister ever!”

“No she isn’t.”

“Yes, she is.”

“It’s called Tough Love, Samuel.”

“Just get in the car. You and that Tough Love bullsh—“

“Language!”

“What?!?”

She’s used to it by now. It’s sort of The Other Family Business: Superheroes.

This time, however, when the SUV drove off with her brother and her lover, the second the vehicle made that turn out of the driveway, she sat on the front step, and had a good, angry cry.

After a few minutes, she dried her eyes on her (on Bucky’s) t-shirt, and took a deep breath. “Okay. Enough of that…”

She got up, went into the house, picked up her cellphone, a notepad and pencil, pressed a speed dial number, and started making plans.

Evening, on the Other Side of the World…

Bucky dragged himself into the tiny old hotel room, dropped his backpack on the dresser, closed the curtains, checked the room for bugs...and bugs, then he turned on the old school TV set (complete with rabbit ears) and clicked the old remote until he found a futbol match.

He could still smell the light fragrance of Sarah’s hair conditioner, and feel her body against his when he kissed her goodbye.

“Damn…” he mumbled, reaching deep into his backpack and pulling out a small brown bag of plums.

“Happy Thanksg—“

Someone knocked on the door.

He retrieved one of his fixed blade knives from a compartment in the backpack, and waited.

Another knock, this time in a familiar pattern.

“Yo, Buck?”

Bucky opened the door to find Sam standing there with what looked like a box wrapped in a thermal blanket. There was also a smaller flat box sitting on top of it.

“Hey, come in. What’s all that?”

“It’s a special delivery. This goes with it.”

Sam handed him a six pack of a local beer, and pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket.

“I got one too. Seems like we weren’t going to be spending the holiday away from…well, go’on open your envelope. I’m heading back to my room for mine.”

“What—?”

“Don’t ask me. Just open this envelope. Have a good evening, Buck.”

“Um…Thanks?”

“You’re welcome, Cyborg Man.”

Bucky heard Sam chuckle as he closed the door.

He moved his laptop to the bed and placed the boxes on the small table in the corner, opened the envelope, and picked up his cellphone, smiling as he dialed the encrypted number on the StarkTech phone.

“Hey, nandi.”

“Hey yourself, mthandi.”

“Can I see you?”

“Of course. Hold on…”

Their screens both go black, then they see each other.

He gently touches her cheek on his screen, and she touches his cheek on hers.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. Wait. Have you…? James. Open the boxes.”

“Boxes? Oh!!”

Bucky unwrapped the large box first and when he opened the seal, steam wafted out, and delicious aromas filled the room.

He couldn’t believe his eyes, or his nose.

It was a whole meal of turkey, dressing, greens, cornbread and slices of his favorite: Sarah’s meatloaf. There was even a separate container of a serving of gumbo.

“Baby…” he chuckled, eyes beginning to brim, “what…what did you—?”

“I figured, since we couldn’t be together like we planned, we could at least…well… shoot, I wasn’t gonna cry…”

Bucky was wiping his eyes as well.

“Sarah…this is just…did Sam get—should I go get—?“

“No. He’s good. Probably on the phone with Misty right about now. The two of us got together. She arranged to have a QuinnJet bring me to New York not long after you left. She knew the team’s prep schedule, so we did our shopping, spent a day cooking, and had the boxes loaded onto the transport before departure.

I asked Torres to make sure neither of you knew about the boxes until you were at your destination. Misty and I made him a combo plate from both of us.”

“I don’t know what to…Thank you, intanda. This is…”

“Close the box, put the heat blanket back on it, get cleaned up and comfy. I’ll wait, so we can have dinner together. Okay?”

Bucky wiped his eyes and picked up the small brown bag, showing her what was inside, “I was gonna have these plums.”

“Have them for breakfast. Your dessert is in the pie box.”

“My dessert is in Delacroix, where I should be right now,” he says in that tone that makes her toes curl in that good way.

“Boy, stop!” she giggles.

He hears Sarah giggle and it makes him want to run all the way back to Louisiana, Secret Empire wannabees and the Atlantic Ocean be damned.

He opened the box and she watched him bite his lip in anticipation. Bites his lip in that way.

She sees him bite his lip and she wants to run to him, Louisiana swamps and the Atlantic Ocean be damned.

“You’re still saving me a slice for when I get home, right?”

“Of course! I brought you over to Team Sweet Potato Pie. No way I’m letting you backslide back to pumpkin! Not as long as we’re—“

“Come’ere, you,” he laughs, walking the phone into the bathroom.

“Where are we going?”

“Getting ready for a quick shower.”

She can see his metal hand and the bathroom ceiling, then the phone tips forward and now she can see him. Most of him. He repositions the phone again and now she can see a goodly amount of him.

He reached into the shower, turned on the tap, then faced the camera, took off his shirt, and started unbuttoning his jeans.

“Want to tell me what you’re doing, mthandi?” Sarah said, before draining her entire glass of sweet tea because The Thirst was real.

“Taking a shower so I can get ready for dinner with my intanda,” he smiled. “Care to join me?”

“Are you taking your phone into the—“

“Sure am. What! It’s waterproof.”

* * * * * * * * * *

@fleurdelouvemonth 2023 - Week 1: “Food” - Day 2: “Sweet Potato Pie”

Also posted on The AO3.

Thanks for reading!

#bucky barnes #sarah wilson #sarahbucky #buckysarah #sarah x bucky #bucky x sarah #sarah wilson x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x sarah wilson #sarah wilson/bucky barnes #bucky barnes/sarah wilson #sam wilson #fleur de louve #fleurdelouve month #fleurdelouve month 2023 #week 1 #prompt food #sarahbucky fanfiction #fan fiction

24 notes · View notes

real-jane · 2 years

Text

poet laureate

part 2 - [prof bucky barnes x fem!reader]

summary: bucky embraces the chaos of a new job, and his girl finishes the project.

warnings: rampant fluff.

a/n: this is posted. i have been trying to finish it for literally ages and finally just forced myself to stop fiddling with it. I hope you enjoy!

series masterlist

Bucky awoke to two furry paws palpating his chest, Alpine’s sharp talons prickling like they did when she was being affectionate. There was something else waiting for him on his phone screen, which he didn’t see until he had squeezed every last drop of coffee out of the grounds in his french press, plopped a heaping spoonful of wet food into Alpine’s dish, and knocked his shin into the open dishwasher door. Bruised and under-caffeinated, Bucky sat at the kitchen table and blinked wearily at his phone. His eyes widened.

PL: Are you dead?

“Shit-shit–Alpine, this is your fault!”

Bucky was late to meet her at his office. They had finally set down solid plans: Saturday at nine o’clock sharp. In his cat’s defense, she had tried to rouse him from a particularly lurid dream, so that he could meet ‘PL’ to start cleaning out the tiny storage room in the guise of an office he had occupied for four years. But he had slept poorly since the night he saw her at Howler’s, and he was an enemy of early mornings.

He hit ‘dial’ before he could think twice and touched the speaker phone, so he could throw on a shirt at the same time.

“You had about two minutes before I called Search and Rescue,” she said, amusement coloring her tone.

Bucky huffed, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. “I overslept–”

“Let’s try again tomorrow?”

“I’ll be fifteen minutes, doll–”

“Bucky, it’s already eleven-fifteen. I gotta go.”

“Wha–you said you were free.”

“I was free. At nine,” she said gently. “I can give you a few hours tomorrow morning.”

Bucky sighed. He was in the wrong–he knew that. Over two hours late, of course she had something else to do! Oh–

“Your thesis.” He scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Among other things. Are you okay?”

Bucky ignored the question, to which he did not have a sufficient answer. “Do–uh–you need me to look it over?”

“...I’m meeting up with Wilson for final edits.”

He sat down slowly on the bed, with his buttons askew and one side of his hair attempting to stand straight up. “Oh. Good. He’ll set you up for success, no doubt. Glad you took my advice.”

“I usually do,” she chuckled.

“Don’t let him trap you in a lecture about cult fantasy authors from the 1960s, or his career playing college football. Trust me.”

“...you’re serious?”

“Deadly. Sam ‘the Falcon’ Wilson will hold you hostage talking about the differences between wizards and sorcerers.”

“Noted. Hey, have you called Mike, yet?”

“No. I don’t–ah. No.”

“I won’t push. When you get here, I didn’t touch any of your files. I wasn’t sure if that was a breach of confidentiality.”

Bucky groaned. “...you are not standing inside my office right now.”

“The cleaner let me in. Bill likes me. I tutored his granddaughter last semester. I hope you don’t mind wine boxes, that was what Mike had to offer. They’re sturdy at least–”

“Doll… I’m so sorry.”

Her laugh bloomed in his left breast, cushioning his heart from slamming against his ribs in self-flagellation. “Hey. I’ll put it on your tab.”

“I’ll be there at nine tomorrow, I swear.”

“Let’s make it eleven, you bring the cold brew.”

“Eleven it is.”

“Oh–if you’re not busy tonight. I’m having a thing. Well, Mike’s throwing me a thing–I won’t let him call it a party. To celebrate me being done with my Master’s. It’ll be low-key.”

“You know I’m not busy,” he said.

“Then I guess I want you to come. Eight thirty?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Mmkay. I gotta go. I don’t know how one man owns so many copies of Our Town, but they’re safely packed away.”

Bucky carded a hand through his hair. “Thank you.”

“Pssh. I’ll see you tonight.”

“If I’m up to it.”

“Call me cautiously optimistic.”

She hung up without any ceremony, leaving Bucky to stare at his phone on the dresser in defeat. Not only had she waited for him, she had asked someone to let her in–and then took it upon herself to start packing up his books, as if she had any inkling about how he wanted them organized. Who was he kidding–she probably had a better idea than he did. Nevertheless, the shame curled around his ankles like weights.

It had been three days since he asked to kiss her.

Of all the sensations from their fleeting night together, he couldn’t remember what her lips felt like, and it seemed like something he might never know again. She had wanted to kiss him back, but she didn’t trust that it wasn’t the whiskey talking. I still want to kiss you seemed like a contrived message to send via text, and calling her just to say ‘about that–kissing still sounds great, if you could just pencil me in’ was just about the most mortifying idea he could think of. So he kept that admission on the tip of his tongue. In-person delivery was the only acceptable option. People don’t write about kissing, much, he thought. The yearning for it, yes, but not the act itself. Maybe with good reason.

Imagine typing out such a thing with his thumbs on the world’s tiniest keypad: I want to memorize what your lips feel like with mine. No tongues need even be involved. Just touching. And if we could do it three or four hundred times, that might be enough to start.

His phone buzzed.

PL: Stop overthinking.

Oh, sure. It was that simple. Just stop–easy.

Trouble was, his organs all seemed to be functioning on the same train tracks, for better or for worse, and his brain was that pesky third rail. Deadly for sanity, electrified… all because his heartlines couldn’t stop thrumming her name. Her telling him not to overthink was like lightning telling thunder not to crash. I’m not me without you.

He let out a slow breath. Bucky hadn’t been in that much danger–of losing himself, going under–since he was a skinny twerp in too-big fatigues, far from home. And where had that gotten him?

PL: If you don’t text back, I'll call you again.

Bucky snorted. ‘You’re not the boss of me,’ he replied, imagining her wrinkled nose when she read it.

PL: I'm not keeping score, you know. PL: There won't be a test.

‘what if I am?’

PL: How am I doing prof?

‘at annoying me? top marks’

PL: There he is.

‘i am really sorry about this morning,’ he sent.

PL: One of these days you’ll stop punishing yourself for being human. ❤️

The audacity of that little heart…

He didn’t go to the office, no. He laid back on his bed and let that sweet emoji run circles between his ears.

“What do you think?” she asked as Professor Wilson flipped over the last page of her gargantuan thesis. Wilson sat back in his chair and shook his head.

“I still think it could be about ten pages shorter.”

“You sound like Barnes,” she snorted. “You’re lucky. He probably read a hundred bad poems before we got here.”

“Must be stressful finishing without his insight,” Sam said. His sincerity hit her square in the chest.

“Nah, it’s my fault,” she murmured. It was stressful, but less so for her than for the man in question.

“What is?”

“Putting revision off to the last minute.”

“Girl, your advisor did not quit because you were procrastinating. I’m sure his reasons were his own.”

She smiled. “No, I know. Still feel like it’s my fault a little bit. Can’t help it. Anyway. Here are my acknowledgements, and the Table of Contents. I’ll revise it if you think it really needs it, but I think this order makes the most sense.” Y/n produced a small stack of papers from her binder and slid them across the table.

Sam took them, but he gave her a soft smile. “It’s okay to be annoyed with him. Heaven knows I am, between you, me, and the wall.”

“Hmm. You talk to him at all?” She tried not to sound eager–she could talk to him, she had his phone number, but being stood up to help him that morning had rankled enough that she packed all of his books spine-down so he wouldn’t be able to see what was what when he reopened the boxes again. It wasn’t felonious retaliation, but it would make him sigh and roll his eyes… and send her a grumpy text.

“Have you?” Sam muttered.

Her face fell out of the unwitting smile which pulled at her cheeks as she pondered annoying her former mentor. She bit her lip guiltily and shook her head.

“Hmm.”

“Wilson–” Y/n stopped. She hazarded a glance at the professor who had so graciously agreed to help her with one of the most important projects of her life at the last minute, and found him studying her with narrowed eyes. “Thank you. Really. I, uh. Sorta thought I was on my own with this thing.”

“Believe it or not, I thrive under pressure. Unlike my pal Barnes.” Sam sat back with her list of acknowledgments but it was clear he wasn’t reading it as much as he was analyzing her.

“It wasn’t that, for him. I don’t think. Pressure.” She shrugged. “He just doesn’t ever think about what he wants, and when he finally did… teaching wasn’t it.”

“Maybe so.”

“He’ll figure something out. A mind like his can’t be idle for long.”

“Right. Sure we’re talking about the same guy?” Sam asked. They shared a little laugh at the expense of Professor Barnes, though neither of them thought the least bit ill of him.

“You work with somebody long enough and you see a side of them that they don’t even know, themselves,” Y/n said. “He’s got a purple heart, but he doesn’t talk about it. His classes are full within minutes of enrollment opening. And he never makes somebody feel like shit just because he doesn’t like their work, like–do you know how many of these he hates? But they’re my work so he doesn’t talk about them like my feelings don’t matter. He critiques the form, or the word choice. But not me, not the heart of it. You can’t know how much that makes a person grow when somebody believes in their work like that. I’m not–I don’t blame him for quitting, I just wish I could bottle that time we had.”

Her cheeks warmed when Sam remained silent, but he cast his focus onto the papers in his hands, and didn’t press her to go on. Which was for the best because she probably could’ve gone on all day about how special Bucky Barnes was to her. How beautiful he made her feel without ever telling her that she was, because his hands once hovered around her face like a makeshift halo. And Sam was the one who’d monologue? She wondered what Bucky would say if he knew how intensely she ached every minute they were apart.

And what she would do if he showed up at Howler’s again, on second invitation. She needed him close, to surround herself in whatever the expansive knowingness was which bloomed whenever he was in proximity. To smell cedar and sandalwood and know it was because he stood nearby. In arm’s reach. Maybe reaching back, if she was lucky.

Yes, she was sad he had resigned because working with him had changed her life, but… she didn’t want Bucky because he was a good professor. His intuition and wit fit with hers like two halves of a wishbone. Bucky quitting was not their breaking point. It was the wish which would allow him to be more to her than a dream, than her muse.

She had written more intensely about love since meeting him than she could have fathomed possible, and watched that image shift from childish butterflies to a steady flame. She wasn’t sure if she loved him, but she could. If he let her.

Consequences be damned.

She watched Professor Wilson shuffle her papers together in the right order to finalize the body of work she had amassed over two years as a fellow of the program, and she was hit with a stunning realization:

If I have to give this up to have him… I’ll do it. Two years of work? No price at all. It was an investment in someone who gave words new meaning. Words like ‘sorry’ and ‘thank you.’

It made her palms itch to rip her phone out of her pocket and call him right at that moment–I want you, I don’t care what happens!--but she wanted to give him a choice. She wanted to see him make it. Hopefully tonight.

“I don’t even like poetry, but this is incredible,” Sam said finally. “You should be really proud of yourself. I’m sure Barnes is.”

“I know he is,” she murmured. “Hey, I’m having a celebration thing at Howler’s in Bed-Stuy tonight if you and your lady-friend wanna come!”

Sam chuckled. “We could be convinced. Who’s going?”

“I dunno, really. Whoever I ask. It’s my cousin’s idea, he owns the place. I don’t know a ton of people.”

“You say the word and I’ll have my senior lit TA’s all over that bar. Nobody likes to drink like overworked undergrads with Senioritis.”

“Sure,” she smiled. “I’m game.”

“What time?”

“Eight-thirty? Barnes might be there, actually. So.”

“If my man shows up to a bar, that would be a miracle,” Sam scoffed. “That’s a homebody if I ever seen one.”

“He might surprise you!”

“When pig’s fly. Do you wanna do anything else to this before we seal it? Or are we calling your thesis done-zo?”

“Done-zo? Why did I ask you to help, again?”

“For that, you’re over!” Sam slid the finished manuscript into the padded envelope, which he had pre-addressed to the company who binds all theses for the university. “There! You make fun of me, you get no more edits.”

“...did we put my name on it?” Y/n asked in mock seriousness. Sam glared at her.

“Get out of here, you! I will see you at eight thirty sharp with a beautiful woman on my arm! And no sooner.”

“Okay, okay!” She stood up, but Sam stopped her with a hand extended. She wrapped her fingers around his and squeezed. “Thanks,” Y/n breathed.

“Welcome.” Sam waved her out the door, and she practically skipped down the hall… past the office which used to belong to Professor Barnes. Her fingertips brushed the plaque bearing his name as she silently thanked him for helping her get there.

Someday soon, she’d be able to hand him a bound copy of the legacy they made, together.

Mike had been almost relieved to get Bucky’s call, enquiring after the barback position. Bucky had stopped by to pick up his shirt early that afternoon, and so Mike could give him some official-looking papers to sign, and take a photograph of Bucky’s ID with his cell phone. Standing outside the bar on the small patio (smoking an anxious cigarette) was the perfect opportunity to question why he had sought out this job, why he ever thought it was a good idea.

But he had to be okay with life not being quite so cut-and-dry for a while. He was bad at spontaneity. Going with the flow was not his forte. Practice would certainly help… in theory.

And she was inside. He had already spied her through the window on approach and developed an instant arrhythmia at the thought of seeing her again.

Is this what addiction feels like? he wondered, as he took another hit of the lesser drug. He could probably stop smoking in a weekend.

“If it isn’t Mr. Free Agent!” Sam Wilson came out of the bar through the side door.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky asked as his friend joyfully shook his hand.

“Didn’t you hear? My mentee finished her thesis today. Submitted and everything.”

Bucky looked down at the ash he flicked from his cigarette. Sam’s mentee. “Right,” Bucky breathed.

“I gotta ask you a frank question. I think I already know the answer but I’m curious what you’re going to say.”

“Shoot.”

Sam made certain there was no one within hearing distance and then leaned close. “Did you sleep with her?”

“Jesus,” Bucky breathed, closing his eyes. He brought the cigarette to his lips, and he inhaled until his chest burned. At first, he didn’t look at Sam, but the other man held out a fresh beer. Bucky took it but Sam didn’t let go.

“You’re a stupid fucker, I’ll give you that,” Sam growled.

“Careful–”

“You have no idea the shit being thrown around the water cooler about why you quit, professor.” Sam pushed Bucky back further into the shadows as a flock of co-eds filed out of the bar. “You showing up here is only gonna fuel the fire. Do you know how many of your former students are in there sipping Old Fashioneds? Are you prepared for the firestorm of questions about to come your way?”

“...Are you finished?”

Sam scoffed. “Yeah, I’m done.”

Bucky undid the zipper on his coat and held open the placate. “You’re looking at Howler’s new barback. And yes–I am aware how stupid I am, thank you. Which is why I quit.” Bucky ground the remnant of his cigarette beneath his boot. “And thank you so much for your concern.”

“Man, I–shit.” Sam rubbed his face. “I’m sorry.”

Bucky shook his head as if to say forget it. He and Sam shared a look of regret, which cooled Bucky’s mortification. But Sam leaned against the brick wall, sipping his beer. Waiting. Bucky mirrored his posture, and handed Sam back the unopened can, however tempting it was to chug the drink before throwing himself into the lion’s den.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Bucky said, with a heavy shrug. “I didn’t have a drop of alcohol in me. I just–for once, I listened when the idiot–” he tapped his temple– “had a wild impulse.”

“Ah.” Sam drank deeply.

“Yeah. And it was the best night of my fucking life.”

“...so you quit.”

“What was I supposed to do?”

“You love her?”

“What does that even mean?” Bucky asked.

“You’re the poetry guy.” Sam finished his beer and crushed his can against the brick. “For what it’s worth, her thesis is brilliant.”

“I know.”

“Wait until you see the bound version. I sent it off to the printer this afternoon. It’s a beast. Even the acknowledgements are beautiful.”

“Good. God–you should’ve seen her symposium, Sam.” Buck scratched his chin. “Two hundred people… dead silent while she read. Never been so proud in my goddamn life.”

Sam whistled, low and slow. “Sure sounds like love.”

“She packed my office today, before she saw you,” Bucky sighed. “She suggested this job, and she invited me here. She doesn’t know that I got hired though, so.”

“You were gonna surprise her.”

“I dunno, man. I’m trying to just… do things that feel good. Somehow, she has aligned with that. And I’m scared out of my mind, but she’s clever, so I figure if it’s her idea…” Bucky trailed off. “If anyone asks, just tell ‘em I had a quarter life crisis, and all i've ever dreamed of is sweeping up broken glass in a whiskey bar.”

Sam chuckled. “You’re gonna be late, mister barback.” Bucky saluted and turned down the alley to make his way to the front entrance. “Buck–”

“Hmm?”

“If this is you stupid… I hope you’re happy. You’ve been a miserable bastard.”

Bucky smiled. “We’ll see.”

He tucked his chin when the bell on the door tinkled; it was just as busy as it had been the first time he came, and he felt several sets of eyes settle on him, but he just pushed through the crowd until Mike caught sight of him, motioning for him to go through the kitchen door. Bucky stepped to the side to allow someone past him, but–

“You’re two-for-two, Barnes.” If she hadn’t grabbed his elbow, her words would’ve been enough to freeze him in place.

Bucky couldn’t help the smirk which pulled at the corner of his mouth, and he looked up at her–the woman of the hour. “Yeah.” She was beautiful, but that word failed to portray just how radiant she really was, especially with a look of happy surprise.

“You came.” She slid her hand down his forearm, but she didn’t link their fingers like he wanted her to. “Dare I hope you did it for me?”

He straightened and gently shook his sleeve from her grasp. He presented his new shirt. “I do have bills to pay,” he murmured. “I’m late, though.”

“Oh my god. You’re just full of surprises.”

“Call it a new leaf,” he said softly.

“Talk later?”

Bucky chuckled. “Tomorrow, remember?” Of their own volition, his fingers brushed her chin, and he ducked behind her. The moment he was on the other side of the kitchen door, Bucky sighed heavily… happily. Her expression had betrayed some kind of pride. If he had just shown up for her little gathering, he was sure she would be pleased, but this brought another reaction, one he hadn’t anticipated.

“You good, brother?” Mike stuck his head back into the kitchen.

“Yeah, sorry. Where can I throw this?” Bucky shucked off his coat.

“Hooks behind the door. Hey, uh–it’s a bit of a mad house right now, so can you help me 86 empties from the tables? Don’t take orders, just send ‘em to the bar. Take a rag with you. Any tips left on the table go into the jar behind the bar, anything handed directly to you is yours. Questions?”

Bucky blinked. “Where do empties go?”

“Glasses in the sink, bottles and cans in that recycle bin. If you think you can handle washing glasses and pressing ‘start’ on the dishwasher, you can attempt to tackle dishes.”

“I can handle that.”

“Oh, uh… you’re gonna get hit on. Comes with the territory. Don’t care if you flirt back, but don’t be a creep, and don’t fuck anyone on-property.”

“I’m not much of a flirt, but noted.”

“So I hear,” Mike chuckled, but he shrugged when Bucky’s eyes widened. “My cousin likes you. And that’s rare, so. I figure you’re a decent dude.”

“Rare how?” Bucky pressed, even as he fished a clean rag from a bin labeled FRESH in red marker.

“I don’t know, man. You should ask her. I got a line forming–you good to stay until bar close?”

“Sure.”

“Great. I hope you don’t live too far. Hard to catch a cab at two am.”

Mike disappeared again into the belly of the busy bar, and Bucky winced. Fuck. By the time they cleaned up and he got himself home, he’d only catch a few hours of shut eye before he had to be up again if he was going to make it to the coffee shop before his rescheduled packing date. What the hell, right? Either way he would’ve stayed up late–the insomnia had been stretching the limits of exhaustion for months, now, and at least she was out there. He had something to prove. He was rare. Rare sort of guys had to earn the designation, and if that was going to be the gig which kept the lights on, he had to make the most of it.

Bucky slung the rag over his shoulder and tugged at his shirt sleeve. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually showed his scars in public. Heck, he rarely walked around without them covered at home, but the bar was way too hot to wear the flannel he had brought over the top, and… well, it was dark, and probably nobody would notice.

“Hey, newbie–” Mike called through the doorway– “can you grab the broom and dustpan? Broken glass near the door.”

“On it!” Bucky looked around the cramped kitchen until he located the scraggly broom with mangled bristles, and hastened out through the crowd to find the spill.

The night progressed with much the same level of chaos; it turned out that a fair number of the patrons were in fact his former students, most of whom had been wrangled there by Sam. None of them knew the guest of honor very well, but his–the woman Bucky very much wanted to be His Girl, that is–mentee mingled through the room with ease. He envied the way she could open herself up to new people, as if they didn’t have one hand behind their back with a hungry knife. Bucky didn’t have any idea what that felt like. To him, new acquaintances were unwelcome unless they had no ulterior motives. Mike seemed alright, but Bucky couldn’t imagine himself becoming close to a guy who owned a whiskey bar–

“Think I could get a refill?” Bucky shrugged off a handsy woman and pointed at the bartender.

“Gotta ask him.”

“Ugh. But you’re right here!” she huffed.

“Candace–it’s not his job. Walk to the bar like a big girl.” Sam appeared at Bucky’s side and gave the woman a knowing look. She rolled her eyes and pushed off the hightop which she had been using to stay aloft.

“Whatever Wilson.” She flipped Sam off, but then a mischievous smile pulled at the corners of her eyes. Sam sighed dramatically and held out his hand for her empty glass.

“The things I’m willing to do for a pretty face,” he mock-whispered to Bucky.

“You never do things for me,” Bucky snorted. Sam narrowed his eyes.

“My suddenly heavier class load disagrees, bud.” Sam nudged him with his elbow. “Your naïveté is cute though, I’ll give you that. Want the same thing, ma’am?”

“Thanks, Sammy.” Candace stroked a finger down the buttons of Sam’s shirt, and the professor winked at her. Bucky put Candace on the list of things to bring up to Sam, along with just how much he had taken onto his plate with Bucky gone, but… that was for later. He followed Sam towards the bar, snagging bottles along the way, only to catch a startled look from Mike. He nodded over Bucky’s shoulder, and held out both hands to receive the empties. Bucky handed them over and whirled around, only to see a huge guy looming over one of his former students. Natalie? Natasha–someone else beat him there, and Bucky’s heart dropped into his feet.

He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he knew that sudden hand-on-hip posture meant Y/n had inserted herself. The man straightened and Bucky launched forward at the same time. He had a lot of people to push through to get to her, all the while watching the man’s face twist in anger.

“--I’ll give you five seconds to get the fuck out of here,” Bucky’s girl growled, just as he reached her side. The moment he realized that the attention of the bar was turning on him, the disruptor turned on his heel and left.

Natasha reached out for Y/n. She was mortified by the attention, even if she was relieved to be rid of the man. Y/n made eye contact with Bucky. Her face lit up. Water? she mouthed. He held up a thumb. Bucky jogged back to the bar, through the crowd which was happy to part for the hustling barback. Without needing to be asked, Mike handed him one water… and an Old Fashioned.

“Thought I wasn’t serving,” Bucky snorted.

“Wouldn’t deny my cousin her drink, would ya?”

No. No, he wouldn’t.

Bucky returned to the table where Natasha and Y/n sat, now surrounded by a passel of concerned women. He silently delivered the water to Natasha, and slid the cocktail in front of Y/n… much to the delight of several women–blessedly none of whom were his former students.

“What a gentleman!” a woman with bright pink lipstick cooed. “I bet you gotta girl who swoons over you.”

“I don’t know about that,” he chuckled, deliberately avoiding eye contact with his girl at all costs.

“Awe, he’s shy!” Another woman said, in a tone which made Bucky bristle.

“You got somebody, honey?” The first woman wrapped her fingers around his left elbow. Bucky flinched, but she didn’t seem to notice. For reasons he couldn’t conjure, Bucky couldn’t force himself to move. He was frozen, like a deer in headlights, under the scrutiny of women old enough to be his mother.

“Leave the poor guy alone,” Y/n said lightly.

“It’s okay,” Bucky coughed. “I do have a girl, ma’am.” Then, he looked up. Y/n could mask her surprised expression. “I don’t know if she swoons, but she sure knows how to bust some balls. I like that about her.”

“Oh, she’s a broad!” one of the women exclaimed, as if that were the highest compliment on this side of the Hudson.

“Is she pretty?”

Bucky scoffed. “Prettiest girl you ever saw.”

The women giggled, including Natasha, who seemed quite relieved to no longer be the center of attention.

“How long you been together?” This time, it was Sam who spoke, and all the blood fled from Bucky’s cheeks. His friend clapped him on the shoulder, effectively trapping him into giving an answer.

“It’s new. I’m trying my best not to fuck it up. Almost did.” He scratched his chin and looked over his shoulder in the hope that Mike would throw him a Hail-Mary–but the bartender just shook his head with a big grin.

“Bring her flowers! My Stan knows that a good apology comes with flowers. It’s a garnish.”

“Huh,” Bucky said. “I don’t know if she’s a flower kinda girl.”

“Pssh. All women are. If you don’t know what she likes, then bring her something small. It’s the effort.”

“Good to know. I gotta get back to work, but uh–thank you, ladies.” He backed out of the small circle, and out of Sam’s teasing grip, but not before he caught Y/n taking a sip from her cocktail. She smiled softly, as if she had greatly enjoyed watching him get grilled by all those gathered. As he turned away, he saw her pull her cell phone from her pocket. A moment later, his back pocket buzzed.

PL: so you got a girl, huh

‘I'm so sorry, it just came out’

PL: you’re cute when you’re flustered. PL: sunflowers are my favorite.

Bucky looked over his shoulder once he was safely concealed in the doorway of the kitchen. Over the heads of rowdy bar patrons, the girl who liked sunflowers smiled at him. Then, she turned back to Natasha, who she had defended from a big creep, and Bucky was overcome with a feeling of pride in her.

It was strange… to feel young and embarrassed, and like the only worries in his life were answering invasive questions from nosy women.

Y/n waited him out until bar close; she nursed a few old fashioneds, while her new acquaintances got progressively drunker, and she dutifully helped pair people up for shared taxis back to campus. Sam departed without much pomp, but with the woman named Candace. For Bucky’s part, he got the hang of running empties back to the kitchen, and putting glasses through the dishwasher, and he thought that he might actually have fun with this job… even if it wasn’t intellectually stimulating. It still forced him to quiet his mind. He couldn’t worry about things outside of his control when he had spills to clean and bathrooms to restock with paper towels.

When the front door locked under Mike’s thumb, Bucky sat at the bar beside a woman who looked exhausted… but happy. She traced over the mottled scar, which peeked out from under his left sleeve, as if revering his skin. With a familiarity which wasn’t forced. Bucky put his shoe up on the footrest of her stool, and their knees pressed against one other. Mike drew no attention to the special privileges granted to his cousin, or to the obvious affection between the two of them. He merely handed Bucky his share of the tips, and then shooed them both out the door.

Once they were outside in the cool evening, Bucky put his hands in his coat pockets. Y/n curled her fingers around his elbow.

“Help me catch a cab?” she whispered, leaning closer to him when a chilly breeze swept down the street.

“I’ll take you home,” he said quickly. “I drove. Didn’t know how late I'd be here.”

She dipped her head so her laugh at his eagerness wouldn’t appear at his expense, but Bucky nudged his shoulder against hers. She peered at him through exhausted eyelids, but she nodded. “I know better than to argue.”

“I’m not sending you home with a serial killer,” Bucky said. He meant it sincerely, but it only made her laugh harder–a sweet, sleepy giggle.

“I already said yes.” She thumbed over her shoulder as if to ask where he had parked. Bucky nodded in the direction of his car (he had lucked out catching a spot just a few blocks away, so he wasn’t far.

They walked slowly. She hummed a bit. Bucky pressed his hand over hers at his elbow. Eventually, she hooked her fingertips with his.

“Mike said something I’ve been wonderin’ about,” he said, as they waited out a turning cab on the corner.

“Shoot.”

“He said it’s rare. For you to talk about anybody to him.”

“Oh boy, he’s giving away all my secrets,” she breathed. “Yeah. It’s true. You gotta be pretty great for me to tell Mike.”

“You told him about me.”

She shrugged. “Everything.”

Bucky switched their postures for the remainder of the walk so his arm was around her shoulders. She sidled her own arm under his jacket, to warm the small of his back. Every once in a while, he brushed his nose against her temple.

The car ride was shorter than Bucky hoped–just fifteen minutes on fairly deserted streets. For once, he wished traffic was bumper-to-bumper, so he had an excuse to sit beside her while the street lights bathed her in a golden glow every thirty feet. But she held his hand over the console, and that was consolation enough.

She directed him to her apartment building, and Bucky pulled up beside the curb. He sat back against his chair. She just watched him. He raised a brow.

“What?”

Y/n shook her head. “Sort of wanna kiss you, but I’ve been drinking. You know how I feel about that.”

Bucky held her hand up to his mouth to cover a grin. “How’d it go with Sam today?”

“Wasn’t much to do. Just choose the final poems and put them in an order which made sense for my thesis.”

“He said it’s a beast.”

She laughed. “Yep. I refused to cut anything.”

“Surprise, surprise.” Bucky studied her face. “I uh. ‘M glad you were there tonight.”

“You were nervous.”

He shrugged. “What the hell do I know about being a barback? Nah. I just… forgot how good it feels to be in a room full of people, doubting myself, only to catch you smilin’ at me.”

She groaned. “If you don’t want me to kiss you, you better cut that out.”

“I mean it, doll. You make me brave. Don’t know why.”

Y/n brushed his jaw with her free hand. “Do you wanna know how many people talked about you tonight?”

He rolled his eyes. “Fuckin’ rumors–”

“No, not like that! Just… how cool it was to see you relaxed.”

“I guess I was.”

“And who this mysterious girl is.” She wrinkled her nose.

“Fuck, I really didn’t handle that well.”

“You were fine. And if people assume, then so what? I’m almost outta there–”

Bucky turned in his chair so he could better look at her. “I was serious about the Dean finding out, doll. Or the board. I–shit. Should’ve dropped you off around the corner–”

“Ooookay. Listen–we’re consenting adults. Yeah? And unless you kiss me in public, it’s all just rumor. I can take a little talk. Besides… it’s not like you’ve asked me to be your girl. You just… hold my hand academically.” She squeezed his hand, which at least warranted a small smile from him.

“Once you’ve graduated,” he whispered.

“Then you’ll ask me?”

Bucky sighed. “Then I’ll stop looking over my shoulder for Stark, and worrying about kissing you–”

She cupped his jaw with both hands and silenced him with thumbs over his lips, so that she could press her own close without giving in to the joy of a real kiss. He felt her huff of frustration not to kiss him for real, and the rub of her thumbs over his bottom lip.

“A kiss is not a commitment,” she said lightly. “What if we just make that how we say goodbye and hello, and that’s all it has to be?”

Bucky folded forward, engulfing her in a tight hug. She turned her nose into his neck, and sighed. He fought the words he wanted to say–because he needed her to hear them, but more than that, he needed to actually say the thing he meant to for once in his life.

“Trouble is: that isn’t enough,” he mumbled into her temple. “Not when it’s you.”

“Bucky…” she breathed.

“I’m tired of doing the right thing. You told me to do something for myself–so here I am.” He rubbed his hands up and down her back, memorizing the texture of her sweater. “I want to kiss you. And when invasive old ladies ask me if I’ve got a gal, I want to point across the table at you. I’m scared shitless. I’m–shit. It doesn’t matter.”

“God, Barnes…” She paused enough to push back, so she could brace her hands on his chest and look him in the eye. “You are so hard on yourself.”

“Yeah,” he huffed. “I’m acutely aware.”

“So, you’re fighting yourself because of Dean Stark? The guy who wears gold goggles for sunglasses?” she giggled. “No–hush. Maybe you’re worth taking the risk for. Huh?”

Bucky straightened, determination thrumming through his body. “Tomorrow.”

“What about it?” She couldn’t stifle a delighted grin.

“I’m gonna kiss you. And it’s going to mean something.”

“Don’t have to convince me, Buck.” She peeked at the time on her phone and winced. “We should be asleep. We have somewhere to be in the morning.”

“Eleven,” he confirmed.

“Okay. I’ll see you then.” She patted his cheek, and slid out of the car before he could break his own promise to wait on that meaningful kiss. Bucky pressed the button to roll down the passenger window. He leaned over the seat.

“Hey!” he called. Y/n turned back to him with raised brows.

“What?”

“You’re gonna get kissed tomorrow.”

“Consider me warned,” she laughed. “Oh!” Y/n fished something out of her bag and jogged back over to the car. She held out her hand to him, with a folded up paper. “This is the only one I didn’t put in. It was ‘too indulgent’, according to Wilson. So.”

She winked, and unlocked her building door. The last thing he saw before it shut again was her fingers waving him off.

He unfolded the note–a poem, of course.

switching hour there was never a lonelier hour than three never a bleaker time never so uneasy a body and yet there never was a falser stretch where intrusive thoughts feel like gospel than three to sunrise.

Indulgent, maybe. Certainly nothing like her other pieces, which focused so much on her inner life, but… it was still special. He could remember the origin clearly–a conversation about a series of hers, based around who she was in the morning vs. the night. He had said to her–early mornings are bleak–something so simple, and watched her eyes sparkle with an idea.

He glanced at the clock on his dashboard. 3:18 am. Hmm. For once… she was wrong. This 3 am had been a turning point.

Bucky drove home in a daze. Alpine mewled at him indignantly when he nudged her off his pillow. He fell asleep, and he didn’t dream. What could his mind make up which was better than reality?

Morning came quickly. Bucky was delirious in his determination, but he managed to stumble into the shower and acceptable clothes, and feed the other woman in his life in her little dish before dashing out to meet her.

He swung open the office door, and there she was. Y/n sat in his leather desk chair, looking out the window across the quad, but she swiveled towards him when she heard the latch slide in the lock.

Bucky had spent years of his life chasing one good rush, and he had never found anything close. Until her. Looking at her then was like watching every failed happiness in his life fall away. He was sleep-deprived, and the cold brew cups sweated in his hands, and he had barely run a comb through his hair, but Bucky still felt like everything was perfect in that moment… especially with a small bouquet of sunflowers tucked under his elbow. He nudged the door shut with the sole of his sneaker. He set the coffee on the desk. Neither of them spoke.

He knelt beside the chair, and handed her the sunflowers. The tissue crinkled as she accepted them. She placed her hand on her forehead in a mock swoon.

One kiss brought her hand to his lips, and then those blessed fingers slid into his hair so she could fully lean forward. She kissed him on the mouth, soft like a whisper. Bucky raised up on his knees to cash in a third, and she hummed–she moaned. He knew very little in the grand scheme of things, but it was certain that he wanted her. He didn’t know if he deserved her, but that seemed to be irrelevant because their lips fit. And her fingers wound into his hair, scrubbed at his scalp, tugged him back to her the moment he seemed in danger of stopping.

As such, neither of them heard the knock, or the door opening, until heavy knuckles rapped on the doorframe. Y/n pulled away from Bucky with a start, fingers clasped over her lips, while Bucky cleared his throat.

He looked up into the face of Dean Stark.

Part 3

tag list: @peterhollandkait @honeywithemoney @nahthanks @emmabarnes @dracris33 @dracosluvbot @searchf0rtheskyline @cjand10

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #professor bucky #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

167 notes · View notes